I parked the Land Rover by the club house and made myself a cup of coffee. After a lunch of banana and cake, I wandered around the lakes and down to the last lake in the chain of five, Lower Figgs. The wind was steady from the South and it was overcast. The wind was a little too chilly to remove my coat. I perched on one of the little seats and watched the water. Trout were rising everywhere, taking something very small from the surface. The wind was blowing a line of leaves, algae and twigs from my left to right and the Trout were inspecting every floating item to see if it was edible. I started with a small dry Olive with a white wing. I had a take first cast and lost the fish after a very brief struggle. It was more of a wriggle than a struggle, then it was off ! I decided to be selective and cover only the bigger fish, there were several about 2-3lbs and lots of other smaller fish. I sat and watched, waiting for a monster.

After two hours of watching and being selective, I had lost another six fish. Some I missed, some threw the hook and one got in the marginal weeds. By this time the fish were getting suspicious of my fly and were turning away at the last moment. I swapped the fly for a Dark Olive with no wing and had two fish in two casts. On the take I lifted into the fish very slowly and carefully. Both fish were well hooked and fought like tigers. The first fish nearly made it to the other side of the lake, covering about twenty yards in a mad dash for freedom. A brace was enough. Time to leave.

I gave my fly to a lady member and wished her luck. The walk back wore me out so I had another coffee before leaving. I’m back in ‘dry fly mode’ ready for the river.

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