With thoughts of heading back to the vastly overpopulated UK, my final days were spent on far away waters hunting trophy trout. Clear skies and zephyr like breezes made for near perfect conditions though a generous slice of good luck helps too. Streams where big trout care to dwell generally mean fewer fish and therefore less opportunities. So when staring down the barrel at a potential specimen, it’s vital to stay composed…easier said than done believe me… Already rising when I found her, this hen fish (below) did me a huge favour by taking my fly first cast. Anything else would have been pure torture and probably resulted in heart failure! As you’d expect the battle was a twitchy affair that lasted far too long for my liking, but eventually my net closed round this solid lump, dropping the scales to 9lb 6oz. A true trophy and my PB to date…
If that wasn’t enough, later that day another slab stationed tight to an undercut bank slipped across the current to meet my cicada. All the while the usual 50 ways of how to lose a trout raced through my mind, but again, lady luck favoured me. Heavily spotted with broad shoulder this cock fish topped 7lb 12oz.
