From way up high (above) it’s easy to dismiss tiny ribbons of water as pathetic trickles, barely capable of holding fish. Though clambering down a steep escarpment proved well worth it whilst exploring the upper parts of an Icelandic stream. Admittedly, not every pool held char, but a stealthy approach paid off and put me on a number of solid fish. As you’d expect, having fattened up out at sea these fish took off like a greyhound out of trap one when hooked. And in the skinny water they often resort to a series of spectacular leaps in a bid for freedom.
…If rods could talk, my 5-weight outfit would be complaining of a bad back following the brutal tussles with Icelandic char…
It never ceases to amaze me when specimens like this stunner are discovered in water all of knee depth. Such fish also bolt when you tighten, often tearing off line at an alarming rate. The best bit though is the visual aspect of watching a lump like this slip inches from its chosen lie to meet your fly…magic
