Flyfishing FWSW

This morning we went for a short fishing session to one of the streams we fish.
The main goal was to check if the chubs would be present and willing to take flies.
Before fishing we went for the obligatory stop at the Bakers for coffee and bread.
With the football mania going on the Bakery had a lottery going on, main prize a football in the German colours.
I actually won something, one Kaiser roll.
When we came at our fishing location I offered the Kaiser roll to the stream, just to see if any chub where around.
Oddly nobody was picking up the bread from the surface, not a good omen.




Crow foot.

The stream was full of water crow foot, a beautifull sight to see.
My buddy spotted some rising fish among the crow foot and tried to nail them with the dry fly.
I started nymphing a riffle that was bordered by the crow foot which surely would hold fish.
After a few fruitless casts the nymph was intercepted, to my surprise by a brown trout which was very rare at that location.


Brown trout

The spot I fished yielded only one fish but this meant the day was saved and I could now spend time finding out
where all those chub where gone.
I walked quite a distance along the stream and was pleasantly surprised to see several storks circeling high above
me in the sky.


Storks

After a long walk I saw fish, maybe fifteen of them of a species I could not indentify exactly.
Due to the high banks the fish also spotted me and they all ran off.
In hindsight those fish where either large chubs or barbels.
When I spotted some smaller fish I made my way down the banks and entered the water.
Once I was standing in the stream the fish had all but gone, plan failed.
I headed back to the place I started fishing, along the way lots of mayflies where flying along the river bank – not on the water.



Mayfly

At the first location I tossed dry flies at the rising fish but I only caught one mini size Dace.
There where plenty of chubs swimming in the clear water, mostly small but also some sizable fish amongst them.
The odd thing was that they just would not take nymphs or dry flies, only the small stuff fed on the surface.
We ended the fishing session early in the afternoon, maybe we will hit a different spot next time to get more fish.

Since the last trip to the Harz mountains turned out
so well we still had a follow up trip in mind.
Despite the risk of very low water tables in high 
summer we went and where not dissapointed.
Normally we would catch mostly small trout there but
this time we appearantly arrived after the streams had
been stocked heavily.
So we spend four days in flyfishing valhalla as we 
caught loads of fish in very nice weather.
Most fish where caught on nymphs and streamers but on
the last day I also did extremely well with a balloon caddis
pattern. 
The pictures will tell the rest of the story….

We had promised Tom, the president of our flyfishingclub to take him on a
guided tour to the waters we frequented just over the border …. that was five years ago.
So finally after five years a date was set to redeem our debt to him.

We started fishing in one of the headwaters of the stream we fish in.
You should have seen the Tom’s face when we entered the forest and came
to the creek that resembled more a ditch.
His face red something like “you fish in that :huh: “
Like all non-jungle flyfisherman he foremost battled with the shrubs since he 
was used to places with a little more headroom.
Still he was utterly surprised when he saw a fish and behold after some casts 
he managed to catch a little trout in that “ditch”





After showing him around some more spots of the upper stream we moved 
further along the stream. 
It was late in the morning when we stopped at a bakery for breakfast with 
some good coffee and eggs and bacon omelettes.

The afternoon was spend way downstream from the place we had started the day. 
The small ditch had turned now into a small river and flowed through the open landscape. 




One of my friends had scouted the place a week before and had caught some 
nice chubs, now only minnows where around.
We tried our best but the fishing gods seemed to be against us.



Do we need hundreds of dollars of fancy equipment for this :kook: 

The river was also frequented by quite a few people with canoes so the shy 
chubs where probably gone.
I decided to toss small zonker streamers in the river and was rewarded with a 
few little perch.




In the evening we checked out a few other locations but the fishing was slow 
to say the least. 
With upcoming thunderclouds it was time to make it to our final destination – dinner at the pub.
The pub used to be the old haunt of my German fishing club built way back in 1794. 
Recently reopened and very popular with bikers it was also rediscovered by 
us, good food at good prices – you can’t ask for more.




We ended the day with good food and good company, once again a perfect 
fishing trip in my book.

Eifel 2010, Rur river Germany – day 2 

So with day 1 at the Rur rive r being not as good as we hoped for we adjusted our plans and skipped the second fishing day in the Rur.
After our dismal evening session we had at least a good meal to look forward to, since we where already stuffed from lunch we decided to take it slow at dinner.

The items we ordered from the “ Small hunger” list was more than we expected…


Farmers Omelet.

We would still stay in our rental house for a second night but would move out to the Kyll river further south the next day.
My thoughts that I would have a good rest in the little village unraveled when I was brutally awoken by racket outside at 03.00 hours in the night.
A car stopped in our little street, two guys came out and started hammering away at a watermain valve in the road. 
After 10 minutes they left, how weird was that ?

As I dozed off I was once again awoken by the villages only truckdriver who raced off in the middle of the night. 
So I tried again to get some sleep but at 04.00 hours the same car from before stopped, and yes the guys came out and hammered at the valve again and left after 10 minutes.

Sleeping further was no option so I was thinking of taken a shower but shoot, no warm water ….
The next morning at breakfast I inquired with our host what the heck was going on in that “ quiet” village. Turns out they had some issues with the watermain and that it was not the normal work procedure down there.

After breakfast we headed south to the camping at Kyllburg where we had rented a small cabin.
Before we drove to the camping we stopped at a supermarket first.
The other guys went shopped, I slipped away to the Kyll river that flowed right behind the supermarket.


Kyll river

Trainstation at Kyllburg

The Kyll river was recently in a flood stage but now the water had slowly receded, it was still a bit murky but it looked good enough for me to fish.
We drove through town and entered the camping where we unloaded our stuff in the little cabin we had rented.


Cabin at the Kyllburg camping

The first thing we had to do was to get our permits to fish the river so we got hold of the owner of the camping who promptly issued us the permits.
Permits for the Kyll river at Kyllburg where 1/5th of the price compared to the Rur river so I did not expect to much from the fishing there.
After all the unnecessary gear was dumped in the cabin we headed out to the river for our first fishing session in the Kyll river.

I was pleasantly surprised by the beauty of the river and the surrounding landscape.



Kyll river

The river flowed at a pace I was familiar with and so I had the utmost confidence that I would catch some fish.
With the slightly higher water I opted to fish with nymphs and soon was into the first brown trout on the Kyll river.



Brown trout






More action.

I was on a roll and hooked one after the other brown trout.
Since the Kyll also held grayling my next goal was to catch one of those.
According to literature Grayling had a weak spot for the color pink so I tied on one of my pink caddis nymphs.
The nymph aroused the interest of the fish but it turned out to be yet another brown trout.
At one deeper pool I managed to get several fish from the same spot.




On the pink caddis nymph.

In the distance I could see Alfons creeping up to my spot, he was fishing with the dry fly and also caught his share of fish.



Alfons into fish.

We had a little break and then both noticed that at a wide section of the river fish where constantly rising.
We fished in turn with dry flies and both had some good shots at the brown trout.







Fishing the dry fly.

With time flying by I remarked that it might be time to get something to eat to be back at the river for the evening session. 
If we would linger around to long we would be fishing in the dark – not a good idea.
So we assembled the rest of the guys and headed into town to hit the local Pizzeria.


Pizzeria at Kyllburg

A view of the Kyll in town – no fishing zone – home to enormous chubs and barbels.

To bad the place was still closed for an hour so we had to search for an alternative and ended up at a Kebap shop ran by Turkish immegrants.
That place also served pizza which we enjoyed on the terrace of the Café overlooking the Kyll valley.


One of my favorite beverages – Wheat beer.

Never seen teenagers going to the Pizzeria with their ponies but here they do.

The evening session would take place just upstream from the camping.
Despite the proximity of the camping the river looked good there.
Even more promising was the fact that fish where rising like crazy in the stretch we intended to fish.

I had not seen such a splendid evening rise in years.
Mayflies and Segdes where on the water but somehow we could not hook up to fish.
When I picked out a large brown segde from my flybox I finally had some good takes.
Still the sedge did not work always so I tied on a lot of different patterns in the hope of finding the right one.






The evening session.

When the light faded fishing got though and so I decided to cheat a little.
I could not see the fly so I tied on one of my barbless streamers, a pattern not allowed on the river although it was not clearly stated in the permit.
A black leach pattern with a green fluo bead did the trick and while the rest of the guys had no more action I continued to catch fish.




Fish from the dark.

When the last light was gone and temperatures plummeted we called it a day and retreated to our cabin preparing our gear from for the next day.
Tom tied up some big dries for next morning session while Alfons – obviously tired – was busy emptying his whisky bottle.


Luckily Alfons (in front) does not frequent foreign bbs 


Some of Toms handy work.

We where all pretty exhausted from this excellent fishing day, what a difference with the Rur river.
At first I was apprehensive to visit the Kyll river since it had no limit on the number of permits but in hindsight I must say I was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the fishing.

To be continued …..

Eifel 2010, Kyll river Germany – day 3

On our last day of our trip we would fish a short session on the
Kyll river before we had to go home.
The route home would be a little longer because one of us had
forgotten some stuff at the rental place at the Rur river so we had
to track back to get his stuff.
After breakfast the manager of our camping directed us to a
worthwhile spot by means of a rather impressionistic sketch.


Near St. Thomas

The only thing I could make out was that it was on near the village
of St. Thomas ( a stretch where you needed a different permit)
and a railroad bridge.
We entered St. Thomas but the bridge we parked at was probably not
the right one.
We opted to walk out in the fields until we found that split in the
river that formed the border of the stretch we where allowed to fish
in.
I had to get to the other side of the river but somehow there was
not a suitable spot to cross.
When I came at a railway bridge I decided I had walked enough and
cleared a path down to the waters egde.
I landed in one piece down the bank but the spot I choose was a bit
deep to cross, I made it to the other side safely but when I crawled 
up the other bank I saw that I had to fight the jungle to get 
downstream.
The other guys had found an easier stretch and where fishing right 
below a fast flowing stretch.
They also had caught fish, one trout and one grayling to be precise.


Kyll river.

Below the fast flowing stretch the two branches of the river joined 
and ended in a wide slow flowing stretch.
Since temperatures had plummeted the night before the insect 
activity was pretty low and no rising fish where to be seen.
I progressed down stream and tossed a dry fly close into the adecent 
bank but got no response from fish.



Downstream, slow flowing part of the river.

The other guys thought they where on a roll after their first fish 
but nothing happened anymore so they left for parts unknown.
When I positioned myself in their vacated spots I thought to myself 
that it had to be a perfect spot for nymphing.
I was very keen to get at least one Grayling from the Kyll river so 
I tied on a pink caddis nymph that was weighted with a tungsten bead.
I fished the deep bank of the river and after a while something 
curious happened, the nymph drifted past me with unbelievably a 
grayling racing after it.
I tried to slow down the drift of the nymph and behold the grayling 
struck.



Grayling

My day was made with this grayling, it was the largest one I had 
caught in years so the mission was an utter success.
The rest of the day did not go so well, it seemed like there where 
less fishing roaming these parts as in the section we had fished a
day earlier.

As I searched for other suitable spots I noticed that the forest 
floor was dug up pretty drastically, a sign that wild boar where 
probably around.
I checked out some sections downstream but they where wide and deep 
with no sign of rising fish.

Late in the afternoon the wind picked up quite a bit and leaves fell 
from the trees, I got a fall feeling.
Even though it was sunny at times the temperature in the shade of 
the mountains combined with the cold water where low.
I found myself once again in the path of my friends who decided it 
might be better to return to the places they had caught fish 
previously.
As my friends left I noticed that in the place they stood earlier 
fish where rising.
So I tied on a small dry fly and got several hits but I guessed the 
fish had the size of minnow since they could not drown the dry fly.
I switched back to a nymph and caught my last fish of the trip, a 
little brown trout.




Last fish of the trip.

A call on the radio came in that it was time to go so I climbed on the bank and took a good last look at the Kyll river.


Signs of fall.

On the way back to the car I ran into the Joop who was directing 
Alfons, still in the river, to a rising fish.
Alfons had a last good shot at a nice trout but missed the fish.
His tried to take the fast route out of the river by wading across 
but found that the river was a bit deeper than he liked it to be.
He made it dry to the other side but had quite some difficulties 
getting ashore due to the steep muddy bank.


The border between the Kyllburg and St.Thomas sections on the Kyll river.

We all met up in the field where we had parked the car.
As we where packing in the local farmer came along inquiring how the 
fishing was and if we where fishing the St. Thomas stretch. 
We told him we had just parked the car in his field which was 
sufficient information for the farmer.
The famer told us he was a member of cooperative than ran the St 
Thomas stretch of the Kyll river and that we maybe should try that 
stretch on our next visit.
Like in most of Germany they had also suffered from the uncontrolled 
increase in the Cormorant populations that ruined the rivers in 
Winter time.
The sad fact is that especially Grayling stocks wiped out at many rivers.

We drove back to the camping, cleared out the cabin and headed back 
to the Rur river at Blens.
We picked up the stuff that our friend had left in the rental 
cottage and decided to enjoy another good German dinner before we 
headed back to the Netherlands.

Although it was a rather short trip this time with only 3 fishing 
days we still had tremendous fun.
I learned quite a bit on this trip and will have to make some 
adjustments to my tackle and tactics when I will go there another 
time which is a very likely scenario.

Last Saturday I went on a fishing trip
to the Lenne river.
It was a hot sunny day and the stream carried
little water. 
Fishing was tough but we did catch a few fish.

Allthough it was nice the price for the permits
and the long drive made us decide it was the 
first and last visit on this section.

Early morning on a bright sunny summers day we stood on the
banks of our stream.
Once again we fished the upper reaches of the stream due to recent 
successful trips to that section.
Water levels had dropped even more than on the previous visit, some
of the sandbars where now exposed to the air.
There where a lot of flying insects about, most notably the big mayflies.
The mayfly action did not go unnoticed with the fish so many times
loud splashes where heard.
In one of the deeper pools I tried to nail a trout but instead kept catching
Rudd and Roach.


Roach on the Copper John.



Rudd on the San Juan worm.

A trip to one of the feeders was disappointing, I did not manage to catch
A single fish there.
Footsteps on the muddy banks probably meant that someone had cleaned
Out the trout from that section.
I returned to the main stream again to tangle with the fish.
One fish continuously rose under the same tree, almost impossible to reach.
Still I tied on a large mayfly that made a nice drift under the tree, just before
the current would drag the fly the fish pounded the fly.
I had expected a trout but it turned out to be a rudd.


Rudd on the mayfly.

Normally rudd where pretty scarce in the stream but this section had a lot of
them, this species was a surface feeder so perfectly suited for dry fly fishing.
Just before we left I had to catch a trout so I tied on a small zonker streamer
and probed some of the undercut banks.




Icing on the cake, rainbow trout at the end of the session.

The streamer did the trick and at the end of the fishing session I managed to
land a pretty rainbow trout.