|The river Rye|
As I work my way upstream several fish are taken. My casting is the best its been for months . I am picking the right flies and everything is working as it should. If only every visit worked as well. The fly keeps floating and the tippet keeps sinking. Its wonderful when everything comes together . I love this river it offers a wonderful mix of long streamy glides and hidden corners . But the cream of it is the bridge pool, when approached from downstream this pool is hidden until you are almost upon it high banks and trees hide it from prying eyes.Tonight the evening sun was framed in the centre arch. The tail of the pool was alive with rising fish but the fish here are the most difficult an upstream cast to the fish means that drag from the faster water sets in almost instantly and wading upstream to keep your line of the water is a dangerous game . The only way is to skirt the pool to the right there is room behind and above for a short backcast
|The Bridge Pool|
I am tucked in under the bank the cast is an improvised spey sort of a thing. False casting on these little streams is kept to a minimum the clear and shallow glides mean the fish dont miss much. But tonight my casting is perfect. a roll and a single back cast with a bit of a haul and the line clears the high bank behind me, The forward cast stabs out and the quick check puts some slack onto the water. A short drift over the small group of fish and a rise and take ,The group of fish scatter as the hook takes hold fish tear of in every direction. The little bow waves marking their track like a pod of torpedos. A short struggle and a lovely little wildy comes to hand , After exhanging looks we part company .