Clochfaen River, Wales

I pretty much blinked at the start of 2014 and before I knew it, it was August.

Deep into the trout season I found myself getting excited for my first fly fishing trip of the year. My work had kept me occupied during a busy period and I missed the mayfly in May and June which is a shame, for there is no more enjoyable time to fish for trout than when they fling themselves about in careless abandon during a hatch. 

It had been far too long but at least I got to watch the Natal Sharks play rugby on TV most Saturdays. Having said that, the Sharks are possibly the most frustrating sports team in the world to support and another semi-final exit after yet another Super Rugby season of so much promise leads me to wish I spent my Saturdays fishing instead.

I had plans to travel by train to "River X" on Saturday, but a rain warning in Wales and a snap decision at 6am on Saturday morning put paid to that. I may have been suffering fishing withdrawal symptoms but I didn't fancy fishing in the rain all day. The decision was made easier in the knowledge that I had another fishing trip lined up the next day with Laszlo, and having a car meant the freedom of finding a river in a suitable condition if the weather was still playing up. 

As it turned out, the forecast for Wales on Sunday was fine and clear. 

In Birmingham, Sunday morning dawned warm and mostly cloudless. I couldn't find my camera after much frantic searching (even with the additional 20 minutes afforded by Laszlo's now customary text of "Morning, I'm running 20 minutes late"). I thought to myself that if ever there was a day to catch a memorable fish Murphy's Law would see it happen today. A bittersweet outcome, if you know what I mean.

We made our way to the River Clochfaen between the village of Llangurig and the town of Rhayader in Wales. 

Wikipedia told me that Llangurig is the highest village in Wales at an altitude of 1,000 feet/300m - which didn't seem especially high. 

Despite rain the previous day the Clochfaen was running clear. As we gazed at the river from a road bridge, a stiff gale rippled the water and I had to hold on to my hat. We spotted two trout rising, lending promise to the day. 

We headed down to the lower end of the bottom beat which is described in the Wye & Usk literature as presenting wading and access difficulties. The riverbed is mostly bedrock with deep gutters and holes with the distinct possibility of a dunking if not careful. The banks were mostly tree lined but Laszlo and I are used to that. We don't expect manicured lawns when we visit Wales. The wilder the better. Indeed, we hoped the trees would shield us from the wind. 

The water looked perfect and as we rigged up Laszlo and I both felt that all the signs were pointing to a very good day's fishing ahead.

An hour later when we met up again neither of us had caught a fish or seen a rise. I had at least seen what looked to be a good fish but only when it darted away, spooked by my clumsy presence. 

I had to conclude that the fish were very spooky, especially in the bright light, and this caused me to slow everything down and spend more time on my knees. 

My fortunes changed in the afternoon when I approached a pool and sat and watched it for 5 minutes. My patience was rewarded when I spotted a rise against the opposite bank. 

I crawled into the water on my knees and waited another 5 minutes for the water to settle. There wasn't any further sign of the fish but I covered the area where it had previously risen with an olive CDC pattern and sure enough, the fish sipped in the fly and I broke my trout duck for 2014.  

The fishing improved thereafter without becoming easy. Strangely, the nymph garnered no takers. There were very few rises. An olive CDC pattern caught the attention of the odd trout here and there. 

I lost what felt and looked to be an enormous trout, certainly over 3lbs. I had cast to what I thought had been a small fish judging by the small splashy rise type. I was stunned when a huge snout cut the surface, quite casually, and almost disdainfully engulfed my fly. I struck and immediately felt a solid resistance, like hooking into an immovable boulder. My first thought was salmon. In a split second I felt the fish realise its predicament and it began to move in the opposite direction in haste. Then my tippet parted ways with the leader. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. If anyone had been in earshot they would have heard some choice language. Fish of that size don't come along too often. 

It left me thinking about leaving my camera at home more often.

My disappointment didn't last very long. A little way upstream, I managed to hook and land my best Welsh trout to date, a beautifully spotted, chunky trout which I estimate at 2 lbs and around 17 or 18 inches long. 

Rises had been rare throughout the day so when I spotted one in a near impossible lie guarded by three separate overhanging trees, I accepted the challenge and spent the best part of twenty minutes attempting a cast. I eventually landed the fly in just the right place - upstream of a boulder on the opposite bank. The shaded water looked far too shallow to hold a good trout and I was expecting a little fish to be in residence. I had not taken in the lesson of the previous fish.

After a brief drift past the boulder, a trout sipped in the fly and again, as soon as I lifted my rod and tightened the line, I realised I was into a good fish. The fish turned into the pressure and presented its generous flank and I prayed this time that the tippet with fresh knot would withstand the trout's weight. The trout stripped out line by running upstream. I had to play the fish with side strain to keep my rod under the low hanging tree branches. 

I shouted for Laszlo who by this stage was only about 50 metres downstream and he came running over just in time to snap a few photos with his phone. 

I'm glad to have a photographic record of the catch. There may just be something in leaving home without your camera next time you go fishing. Why not give it a try (but make sure your fishing buddy has a camera at the ready)? 

After that trout I didn't have any further joy but then I didn't really try too hard or mind at all.