A mixed bag on the last official trout session

I was determined to catch one last whopper before the trout season ended; a late start for work gave me a morning to try my best. On the last couple of trips I haven't seen my nemesis or the other two fish I've previously caught, I have however seen a new large trout of around four pounds.

A new fish, but I've only seen this fish twice

On my last session I fished in the afternoon. As I was heading towards the car at the end of the day, I stumbled across a small group of barbel. I knew there were barbel in this stretch; I regularly used to see one small individual shoaled with a group of bream and roach. That was some three years ago, and I hadn't seen it since coming back to fly fishing last year. This time not only were there more barbel - more than half a dozen - there were some substantial fish in the shoal; I'd estimate a couple of six pound plus fish. The last half an hour of that afternoon yelded two small barbel, one around a pound and a half, the other slightly larger; tremendous fun on an eight foot four weight.

As my car was parked near the barbel hot-spot, I went to have a quick look before I headed anywhere else. I found most of the shoal where I expected, but certainly not as many as before. A stiff downstream breeze ruffled the water surface, hindering my ability to spot the fish. It wasn't long before a small barbel intercepted the fly as it slowly fell through the water. A spirited fight ended with me landing my third barbel on the fly.

My third fly caught barbel, just like mini exocet missiles

I tried to catch another - two hand-sized rudd were all I could entice - this species of fish perhaps reflecting that this part of the river is not fast paced as you'd expect for barbel to take residence.

I dropped into a weirpool without much hope due to the water clarity; the only way you can enter and approach this pool, leaves you liable to be seen when the water is this low and clear. One dace was the small but pleasant reward for this spot.

A small section of river upstream revealed rising fish. I watched for ten minutes as numerous grayling quartered and intercepted small items trapped in the surface film. Leaves scattered across the surface led me to tie on a size 24 green paraphid. Two grayling agreed with my choice.

Further up towards the lethiathon stretch and my nemesis'  lair, I was left wanting as nothing was in residence. Three weeks now I have not seen the nemesis, I fear my chance may have gone, but I hope it is still around.

I visited another weir that holds much more depth and seemingly has a stronger flow than the weir further down, despite the water volume being the same. A french leader and small fluorescent orange indicator, teamed with a duo of JP pupas proved a good choice as I landed three trout and the same number of grayling. Satisfied at finally catching some trout - I was beginning to think it was going to be a coarse fish only day - I headed back downstream.

On route I came across a group of primary school children. They seemed fascinated that someone would fish in their local river, one teacher commented that there must be fish in the river as someone is fishing for them. I kindly posed for a picture they could put up on there board back at school.

I walked ahead of them trying to pick off fish as I headed back to my car. As I stopped to fish, the children would catch me up, tell their teachers there's the fisherman again, say hello to me and walk past heading downstream. After a couple of times of overtaking each other I found myself ahead of them and with a fish in the net. I waited until they arrived at where I was and showed them a lovely chub of around two pounds. The kids loved it, they were completely entranced seeing a fish first hand come from their river. Another pose, providing proof of the existence of fish in the river to be displayed in the board.

The last place I looked at was the pool below the white bridge. A couple of trout could be seen cruising around the pool, rising occasionally. I already had tied on from earlier a JP pupa, and despite a couple of interested follows nothing took the fly confidently. I changed over to something lighter, and a killer bug succeeded in seducing a decent trout. This was in front of another audience of school kids, a different group this time but they were no less impressed. They watched me play, then land the trout, which was just shy of a couple of pounds, then asked to take a picture too.

That was my day done, no logs, but I was thrilled that I had shown the children some fish that live in the river flowing through their town. I hope I have inspired some of them to pursue their own monsters in the future.