Sadly, I had to attend a funeral as my first act of business for the day. The ceremony took me up to lunchtime by which time the drive back to my office seemed a chore just to eat some food as I would be just driving back to the area I was in to visit clients anyway.
So I had a 45min lunchtime that I took next to a burn that runs past some high rise flats in the Clydebank area.
It just so happened I had my rod in the boot and after a brief thought about whether I really needed to eat I strung that bad boy up and armed only with a pair of forceps and a fly box I had some exploratory casts – we are talking about really minimal fishing here so minimal that all my gear fitted in a suit trouser pocket.
Within two casts I had a lovely wee trout on the bank. I knew there were trout in this burn as I have heard of them as well as gazed at them anytime I have been passing – what I have never actually done is make that leap to getting a rod strung up and having a cast at them.
The water was higher than normal and was running with a tinge of color – it made the runs beefy and full and made long pools that gave these trout a lot of cover – pretty much every other cast I would watch a shape drift up from the depths to swallow my fly..
Of course, remember that I am decked out for work with a shirt and tie on at this point – next to me some golfers stopped for a chat and they all had a tale to tell about the trout in the burn – seemingly further up the river it gets better.
I walked another pool up and caught some more trout.
I wont bore you with a blow by blow account of every trout that I caught however if I were to give a total tally for the 45 min session i would say at least the high teens – so roughly a trout every couple of mins. There were some bigger trout mixed up in the haul as well.
These trout took a dry fly with sheer maniac abandon – they were not only fighting the hunger but each other for survival as well. I am sure I pricked some even bigger trout however I can never really be sure – I mean they seemed big as they rose from behind a boulder to intercept my fly however they were pricked – always remember that a trout in the water will seem smaller than the trout in your hand – it is all down to refraction or something..
I walked back to my car at the end of that wee session a happy man – everyone I met on the way back to the car smiled and chatted about the burn – I spoke to a couple of golfers, a council worker standing with his top off and for want of a better word a Ned* with his dog.
*Ned is a derogatory term applied in Scotland to hooligans, louts or petty criminals, latterly with the stereotypical implication that they wear casual sports clothes. Such usage in Glasgow dates back to the 1960s or earlier.