Guiding Service

My guiding services are now available to assist fly fishermen on both game and coarse rivers. I'd be happy to advise and arrange your special day anywhere from one of Derbyshires finest trout and grayling rivers to your own local coarse river. Email Mick Martin for details and options. Please copy and paste into your own email

Wednesday, 29 April 2009

Rise! Sir Michael

Well tonight was a toss up between Champions League or Church Mayfield and boy did I make the right choice. Conditions were fare on arrival but the river is close becoming desperate for a good dousing, I also suspect the fish are non too happy about it. With spotting only 1 single rise on my slow walk to the weir I began fishing the fast water below the mound of stones which resemble Mam Tor at the moment. After a frustrating hour losing flies to a fish under a tree against the bank I admitted defeat and fished back up to the weir. On went my Klink and this brown below walloped it on the fringe of the riffle, just where I expected him to be, ah ah!

After another small brown under the weir things fell quiet and frustration set in so I went walkabout to the top of the stretch. There were a few small rises nearing the brook and after frantically ripping through my flybox, a small 18 Elk Hair Sedge tricked 2 grayling into my net.
Again things became quiet for sometime and towards the end of my session I noticed crashing rises far upstream on the left bank and unfortunately in a place I could not reach - bummer.

I made my way back downstream and to my amazement I found the lower stretch alive with trout, they were jumping clear of the water snaffling everything resembling a food item floating along the scum lanes. Wow! This was an opportunity I was gonna have to take, even at dusk I couldn't resist a crack at these fish, so I quickly made my way back into the river. I tied on my Balloon Caddis and the fish snatched it instantly and too be honest I think they would have taken any fly choice presented to them. I put the evening rise down to sulking during daylight in a shallow river but by night the they became supremely confident and they were having a real Ramadan. I quickly managed to catch a few trout but missed loads as the night was falling and after fumbling with my camera this midnight rambler below was forced to endure the flash of my camera before I decided pics were a bad idea at night.

Now I admit that fishing alone into dark is foolish really but knowing the venue very well and feeling an overwhelming pull, like some kind of crack addict, I just couldn't resist. The atmosphere was truly electric and after carefully finding my trusty scaffold pole in the bank, I pulled myself up the bank completely satisfied. Just to let you know what the experience meant to me, I was laughing at myself shouting strange things like " Come on Micky" and "You did it boy" and as I neared the bridge/checkin box I spotted a dog walker looking down at me like I was some deranged terrorist suffering from turrets.

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