Join Kris Kent on a road trip to fish some new rivers.
As the almost full moon came round past the wing tip for the fourth time I was starting to wonder why I’d committed to going fishing tomorrow. My flight back into Heathrow from Stockholm was delayed and we were now stuck in a holding pattern over London. At this rate I wouldn’t be home till nearly midnight and I would have to be up at 05.00am to be in Powys for the rendezvous. No lie in for me this weekend.
One of the great things about joining organisations like The Wild Trout Trust (WTT) and The Grayling Society is the opportunities it provides to meet like-minded individuals. The WTT has its Annual Get Together, 2016's will be on the Wylye at Langford Lakes, and the Grayling Society has its Symposium, 2016's will be near Winchester. They also provide the opportunity to go fishing with like-minded individuals. As I write this I’m looking forward to the WTT's Grayling Weekend on the Derbyshire, always a good do. The Grayling Society has a network of Area Secretaries many of whom arrange fishing days on local rivers for members from their area and sometimes members from other areas too.
My early rise and three hour drive was so that I could join Roger Smith’s Area 4 Grayling Day on the River Severn and its tributaries around Caersws in Powys. Roger arranges three or four days each year, weather allowing, and they always attract a good crowd with opportunities to fish some wonderful stretches of river. My early start meant there wasn’t much on the roads and I made good progress west into the principality. The sun rose just as I crossed the border and bathed the rolling hills in a gentle autumn light. Early morning mist lay over the forests like net curtaining. TomTom led me a winding route through a myriad of small villages and towns, the names increasingly unpronounceable. Eventually I dropped down off the high hills into the valley of the upper Severn and turned right into Caersws.
First glimpse of the Severn at Caersws
I got my first glimpse of the Severn as I crossed the ancient narrow stone bridge. It looked low with mist clinging to its surface, a light frost glistening on the sheep meadows. The forecast was for a beautiful early autumn day; high pressure had settled over the UK. Whilst I wished I’d put a jumper on when I got out of the car to look over the bridge the forecaster promised we would be in t-shirts by lunchtime.
Red Lion Inn in Caersws
As I walked in through the back door of the Red Lion Inn the smell of fresh coffee filled the public bar. I was first to arrive so I grabbed a mug and settled down to study the excellent map Caersws Angling Association provided on their website. The club has an extensive stretch of the upper Severn above Caersws with day and season tickets easily available through a number of local outlets. The other members started to arrive as the bacon rolls appeared, perfect timing. We munched away as Roger briefed us on the fishing before sending us on our way. Many rods had travelled some way to attend the day, testament to the quality of the fishing and the excellence of the bonhomie. The insider intelligence from Andew Cartwright, local guide and Caersws AA bailiff, was that a few Large Dark Olives and Small Olives had been coming off and that the fish were responding. Great news for us lovers of the dry fly.
I had a special plan for the day. Some while back I was fishing with cane rod builder and furled leader supremo Luke Bannister on the Ottery in north Cornwall.
Luke Bannister on the Ottery
As we worked our way upstream Luke told me about all the rivers he had fished. For some time he had been stuck on 99 rivers fished and he had desperately wanted to make it to 100. During a conversation with one his fishing buddies he was reminded about fishing a river he had forgotten about and he suddenly realised he had already reached that magic number. This got me to thinking about how many rivers I had fished. Being somewhat anal I keep a record of every beat on every river I have fished. It used to be in a diary, it is now on a spreadsheet which is a source of much amusement to my friends. So when I got back from Cornwall I totalled up the rivers I had fished. If I included all the international rivers I fished it came to a rather satisfying 118, when I excluded rivers outside the UK it came to just 93. I became determined to get to 100. Caersws Angling Association have fishing on the Upper Severn but also two tributaries the Afon (River) Trannon and the Carno Brook. So if I could fish all three I would increase my total to 96.
River 94. I pulled up in a lay-by on the outskirts of Caersws and squeezed into my waders. I wasn’t sure what size of river to expect so I went for a mid length rod, my Sage Circa 8’9” for a 3 weight. I climbed over the old rusty gate and crossed the rough pasture gingerly making my way around a herd of frisky Holsteins. They were curious and a bit too highly strung for my liking. Someone once told me that cows are more scared of us then we are of them, I’m not convinced. The map suggested the first of the tributaries was close by but I couldn’t obviously see where exactly. I stumbled around over rough ground that looked like the flood plain of a spate river. I climbed up and down through various dry channels and navigated through a thicket of scrub willow and thorn bushes eventually coming to a massive stand of Himalayan Balsam, this made me think I must be close. The seed pods exploded violently as a pushed through the forest of Balsam. Dropping into a ditch I went up to my knee in mud and it took some effort to extricate myself. I pushed on and all of a sudden the Trannon appeared.
The Trannon
I was less than enthused. At some point the Trannon has been straightened and dredged. It stretched out in front of me straight as a die, its banks cut 90⁰ to the flat bed; it hardly flowed. I dropped in and made my way upstream, I flicked a generic dry fly ahead of me in case something might rise, it didn’t. On the bright side the wading was easy, the bed a mix of small rocks and gravels. As I neared the bridge the river was trying its hardest to restore itself. Banks were falling in recreating meanders and narrowing the channel with a few faster runs and riffles. Under the bridge the river had scoured out a deep holding pool to one side of the stanchion. There were plenty of fry basking in the warm sun which raised my hopes of finding a fish. I didn’t. Whilst the Trannon was becoming more interesting the further I went upstream the lack of fish forced my hand and I headed back towards Caersws. Not a good start to the day.
River 95. The Carno Brook was a little easier to locate, it joins the Severn just above Caersws a few hundred yards from the junction of the Trannon and Severn. It tumbles into the Severn through a series of tight meanders. As I stood at the junction and looked upstream I felt more enthused.
The Carno Brook
A series of slow pools and fast runs lay before me.I tied on an olive quill bodied Klinkhammer, a good searching pattern. In front of me the river was funnelled into a fast run which ran through a semi-fallen willow. A lovely looking bubble lane emerged from the willow. I tossed the Klink as close as I dared to the willow trying to land it on the seam between the fast and slow water. I missed the first rise, too slow. I persevered and a few casts later a game little wild brown trout lunged at the fly; I was off the mark. There is always a great sense of relief having that first fish to hand. Pressure off, for the time being.
Carno Brook Brown Trout
As I made my way upstream the river widened and became very shallow. Tricky fishing in low water and bright sun. There were a few deeper pots under the road bridge and just above the bridge under the willows. I should have tried a nymph but I was enjoying casting a dry fly. Above Caersws the Carno Brook meanders tightly through sheep pastures. Lots of fast narrow runs that I felt should have produced a fish. They didn’t. I found a shoal of small grayling dimpling on a slow slack pool and tried a dry fly over them. They splashed at the fly but I could connect. I slumped back on the bank and watched them as I had a coffee. Time for the main event.
River 96. My fishing buddy Charles fished the Severn with Andrew Cartwright some years ago and said it was a cracker. Why I hadn’t given it a go before now is a mystery to me. So many rivers, so little time. I walked up into town and made for the stone bridge. I’d seen a fish rise below the bridge that morning when I arrived. When I got to the bridge I found a coarse angler ledgering the pool. My initial plan scuppered I headed upstream from the bridge.
The first run on the Severn above Caersws
A few fish sporadically rose on the wide shallow run between the stone bridge and the railway bridge. I tried upstream and downstream presentations to no avail. Then I spotted a rise close by the railway bridge where the river deepens. I dropped the Klinkhammer into the centre of the spreading ripples. I waited a moment and just as I was about to lift off, the head of a grayling emerged from the mirror surface descending on the fly, its dorsal fin clearly visible as it porpoised back into the depths. For once I didn’t strike too quickly letting the fish take the fly down. I lifted the rod and the fish was on. My first Severn grayling. Not huge but a nice fish and very welcome.
First Severn grayling
Keen to find more risers I headed upstream past the football ground. I spotted the next risers opposite a large willow that spilled out over the river.
A promising run
The remnants of a fallen tree had created a deep scour on my bank and the fish was rising just off the trunk. I had to get down a steep bank first, an old sheep fence threatening to tangle me up. I pricked the rising fish but as I cursed myself the pool came to life with regular dimpling rises all round me. The warming sun was bringing the insects to life. Small olives, stonefly and caddis filled the air. I switched to a small quill bodied F Fly dun pattern that had proved itself that season. I managed a handful of small grayling from the shallows before spotting a better fish on the far bank below the willow. It was a tricky cast. I managed to get some slack into the cast with a bit of an upstream reach and missed the trailing willow branches. The fly disappeared in a swirl and my best grayling of the day was on.
Best Severn grayling of the day
Above the willow what I guessed to be trout were rising hard under the trees. I couldn’t cast to them from below so I got above them and drifted the fly down under the trees. Drag set in just before the fly covered the fish so I adjusted my position and tried again. This time I got another few feet of drag free drift and a brownie wolfed the fly down. As I was landing the fish one of the Caersws AA members happened by and we chatted for while about the fishing. He showed me a photo of a 3lb grayling he’d caught from nearby. This somewhat took the shine of the fish I’d just caught. It was getting to be time to head to the pub for the post fishing day drink and catch up with the other anglers. I was just about to reel in when I saw a fish rise close up against a large tree branch hanging in the water. The F Fly dun didn’t stir the fish so I tied on a big foam beetle. I plopped it hard onto the water and as it drifted down the head and shoulders of a large brownie emerged from below the branch. The fish followed the beetle downstream before turning aggressively and heading back to its lie. I’m not sure if the fish was thinking of eating the fly or if it just wanted to make sure it went away. Either way it didn’t come out for a second look.
Here lurk big fish
Back at the Red Lion Inn everyone had caught fish, bar one, and had had a wonderful day. Over 30 grayling and 30 trout between us. I was enjoying the craic but everyone else seemed more interested in getting home to watch the rugby, England versus Wales.
End of day beer
I soon found myself abandoned and feeling very hungry. I’d been so busy fishing I’d forgotten to eat and it was a long time since those start of day bacon butties. Luckily Caersws has a most excellent fish and chip shop. I sat in the car reflecting on a wonderful day's fishing in great company as I dipped my chips in ketchup and savoured the moist cod. It then struck me that being an Englishman in Wales might not be a good idea if they lost the match so I headed home. The only question on my mind, where to find four more rivers for the make the hundred?
For further information on the fabulous fishing available around Caersws checkout the CAA’s website:
http://www.caerswsanglingassociation.com/
Andrew Cartwright, CAA bailiff, guides on the Upper Severn, further details are on his website:
http://www.acgameangling.com/
Biography:
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 PR Officer for the Grayling Society and helps out The Wild Trout Trust with their online communications and events.