There is something good when you get a fishing tradition going with a friend. Kris Kent tells us about one he shares with his friend Charles
It has become a bit of a tradition for Charles and I to open the local fishing season, on the 1st April, on his beats on the Loddon near Basingstoke. After a long winter bugging for grayling we are both keen to get out for the, mostly, wild brown trout in the upper reaches of the Loddon. We always go full of optimism and usually leave disappointed. There must be some irony in the start of the season also being April Fool’s Day.
The night before I was staying at my sister’s. It’s sort of on the way from my place to the Loddon and I hadn’t seen much of her of late so I killed two birds with one stone. Just before I went to bed I switched over to the local news. Their parting news item was the fact that the M4 was going to be completely shut that weekend between Reading and Newbury, urgent repairs. Unfortunately, that is the stretch that I needed to use to get to the Loddon. For a moment I thought it was an April Fool’s stunt. It wasn’t. Some re-planning was required, and an earlier start. Things were further complicated by some local roads, that went under the M4, also being closed. It felt like the Gods really didn’t want me to go fishing.
My new route wound through the Berkshire countryside up hill and down dale, criss-crossing the M4. It was spooky looking down on an empty motorway from the bridges. The narrow country lanes were still quiet as I made my way into the Loddon Valley but I still had to pull in from time to time to allow others to pass. Whilst waiting in one passing point I noticed a group of Hares boxing across the field. They are normally so shy but their urges were obviously getting the better of them and they tolerated me watching them over the hedge.
Mad March hares
In the end my worst fears of traffic chaos weren’t realised and I arrived at the farm shop before it opened. I spent the time sorting through and tidying my fly boxes. Time well spent. So engrossed was I, I didn’t notice the shop doors open. Armed with bottles of beer and a large pork pie I headed off to meet Charles.
There is a routine to these days. As usual we made our way across the rough horse pastures to the bottom of the wading section, from where we would get in and make our way upstream. Charles would have first cast, well it is his water. We share the rod, passing it over after a few casts or if we catch a fish. Charles was extra excited this year as he had a new rod for the occasion. It was an Epic 8’ 4 weight fibreglass rod, made up by our friends at Rawson & Perrin. The call of nature suddenly called so I sought out a tree whilst Charles made a start. When I caught up with him the bright orange Epic rod was hooped over, I assumed he had snagged the bank. But then the rod pulsed.
Charles into his first fish
Much to my surprise he was into his first fish. Much to his surprise it wasn’t the fish he was casting at. The Loddon has a huge head of chub, the previous May we saw hundreds shoaling on the gravels ready to spawn. Charles had found a small pod sitting in a back eddy below a fast run. Despite his best efforts they were ignoring his pre-emerger, but a small trout had other ideas.
First fish for Charles
Charles looked pleased, if surprised. This wasn’t the way these opening days usually unfold. I took the rod and cast into the fast water, one eye on the fly line and one on the chub milling around to my left. The Epic was a joy. Light in the hand. It loaded quickly and shot line easily. I didn’t need to watch for the take, the line stopped sharply and another small trout was pulsing unseen below the broken water. In the end we took half a dozen trout from that first run before the fish spooked. We never did fool the chub.
As we worked our way upstream between high, steep banks of soft loamy soil we scanned the surface for hatching insects or rising fish. It was still early and despite the clear skies and bright sun there was a chill in the air. Just before the bridge we saw a couple of rises and Charles manged to fool one of them into taking his CDC emerger. I was too busy rooting around in the margins to notice. Like many of the rivers in the south east, the Loddon has a population of invasive signal crayfish. They like the soft banks that they can easily burrow into. The upside of having these crayfish is that they are a great food source for the local otters.
Big crayfish picked clean
Below the bridge the Loddon hugs the edge of woodland, its shallow waters overhung by alder and ash. This makes casting trickier and landing fish on a high held rod interesting.
Working up through the woodlands
The fish here are pewter grey with dark markings and small scarlet spots.
Woodland trout
It is tradition to have our lunch sitting on the sleeper bridge, feet dangling, whilst watching the bridge run for rising fish. The beers and pork pie were well received and the fish put on a good display for us.
Lunch on the bridge
Above the bridge the Loddon narrows and deepens. In places it disappears into dense woodland before emerging into more open scrub. Three stretches had been generous to us in the past. Would they be today? The first is a long straight, waist deep in places. The fish usually hold deep hard against the banks. Once again, these fish were generous, hammering the fly. The next spot is just above a fallen willow. I was pleased that it was my turn when we got to the willow. Sure enough my cast was rewarded by a bright little trout.
Happy fisherman
On the more open sections the fish are paler with fewer spots. A function of their environment.
Paler trout
The last banker runs into the woods. We had caught a lot of fish here in the past. It is a pretty spot, the blackthorns in full flow. But on this occasion we couldn’t tempt a fish up to the surface. It was starting to feel like the river was falling asleep.
A promising run
We pressed on but the fish petered out as the weather reminded us that it was still early spring. We had arrived hopeful but with memories of tough opening days. We left with a dozen fish each, optimistic for a good year ahead. No April Fools this year.
Kris Kent has been fly fishing and trotting for brown trout and grayling for over 20 years in the UK, Europe and Scandinavia. He is Chief Guide at Chalk Stream Dreams, Fishing Manager at Orvis in Stockbridge, PR Officer for the Grayling Society and helps out The Wild Trout Trust with their online communications and events.