Another Day In Paradise

“Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters.”
― Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It and Other Stories

… I am haunted by waters. Often the night before fishing, I dream about the water in question, sometimes even about fish. Same happened to me a few days ago and when the first rays of sun dragged me out of Hypnos cave, I knew it would be a good day, full of achievements for a fly fisherman.

I decided to fish a river I fished last time 5 years ago. The water section where fishing is allowed extends over a length of almost 20 km, a true jungle you’re not able to fish during a single day. Considering that a few km are sufficient to get enough joy, I made my homework the night before (Google Earth has been very helpful) and I have chosen a segment I might like. 

This river is really something special, being a few years ago known for big grayling specimens but also for the presence of Danube salmon in his waters. Cormorants made havoc here and I was curious to find out the actual stage of the fish population. Many years ago, in other words in 1908 were signaled the first great fish damage of this river made by otter, now being faced with this bird, a real black plague that decimates the European fish funds.

I spent a few minutes on the river banks, near a mill to analyze the situation. Fish were not rising so I turned a few stones to see what kind of candy to lure. Food was abundant, cased caddis, gammarus and small dark nymphs were hiding behind stones sharp corners. Last prevailed, so I opted for a black BH nymph with a silver ribbing, tied on a hook size 12. The results were not long expected and the first rainbows and brownies knowledged the fly. 

Mostly I’m fishing upstream of the start site, this time I got downstream and let the mill behind, entering a tunnel formed by tree crowns. There were just the two of us, me and the river, isolated from the rest of the world and he shared with me the secrets he holds. It was like in a tale, the rays of light that made it through the clump of trees were dancing on the water surface like fairies.

 

What I would have been able to wish more from that day of July than all of these beauties with which nature was honoring me, but soon this dream was ended by the rapid growth of water, waking up in the middle of a torrent without to be able to get to shore. In a few minutes the water level had increased by approximately two palms. I hardly went on shore about 100 feet  below, imaging what was causing this unpleasant surprise. First thought that crossed my mind was: 'I wonder if they open the weir gates every time they see fishermen?'

I had no chance to continue fishing were I was and went upstream to analyze situation on the spot. Obviously above the dam the water level decreased and the river formed a stream, flowing behind a big rock which was now sticking out of the water. I thought the place is worthy of attention and after the first cast I felt action on the other end of the line. This time it was a grayling about 12 inches long. There followed more of them but no one like five years ago when 14-16 inches fish were not a rarity.

 

I took a break on the grass with a cup of tea and a short nap. With fresh forces I went downstream to explore the last part of river set. Then I said goodbye to the river in the hope I’ll return sooner than this time and he’ll share more of the secrets hiding under his stones.