Paul Procter peers through misty waters on the lovely River Lambourn in Berkshire
WE CAN PROBABLY all agree that good planning is vital when arranging a fishing trip, but that things fall apart with heavy rain. That’s what occurred on my jolly to the southern chalkstreams this summer. I don’t need to tell you how unsettled our seasons have become. Unprecedented downpours in July and August should have convinced you.
My first two days had been a dry-fly bonanza on the Wylye and Kennet. With a head full of CDC dressings and Griffith’s Gnats — the killing flies — I’d set myself up for a final day on the Lambourn, a chalkstream that wends its way through Berkshire before joining the Kennet east of Newbury.
A check of at least half-a-dozen weather apps that clutter my phone’s screen is my regime before bedtime. For once, the consensus was light rain overnight with cloud clearing at dawn. As my head hit the pillow, instead of sheep, I counted images of trout lifting to my flies.
A wake-up alarm was redundant. Rain pounding the windows woke me at 4am and continued until I crawled out of bed shortly after 7am. I was thinking of Cumbrian rivers and imagined a deluge hurtling down steep-sided fells accompanied by levels that quickly make rivers unfishable. But chalkstreams, largely fed by underground aquifers, are different. At least, that’s what I thought until a few hours later when I looked down at the Lambourn.
The water wasn’t exactly tanking through, but its milkiness suggested a lift had occurred. I stepped into the margins. If I can see my boots at mid-thigh depth, the water has sufficient clarity for me to be confident of fishing dry-flies. I was still in business.
A trickle of blue-winged olives made my fly choice straightforward. With my chest puffed out after two days of top-drawer surface sport, I approached the first pool and a blipping rise seemed to rubber-stamp my decision. But 30 minutes of observation with the odd probing cast failed to produce a fish. If nothing else, wading up the pool indicated chillier water than the last two days, and dipping the thermometer confirmed that temperatures had dropped. Normally, a small fluctuation doesn’t bother fish. But this change had come on the back of a month’s dry weather when stable flows and temperatures had allowed the fish to get into a routine.
I’ve often seen this on my home rivers. When I regularly check the pools, the fish will be there like clockwork, feeding in exactly the same lies. It can get to a p
