It rained throughout the drive back to Devon. It was wet enough to discourage the mid-week drivers but not enough to fill the rivers. Dartmoor soaked up every drop of rain.

After five years of ownership I still hadn’t figured out how to tune the Volvo radio and I couldn’t be bothered to change the CD. I lapsed into zombie-driving mode. My mind wandered. Which river should I fish, which beat ? The lower beat on the Tavy was calling and the rota assigned it to me the following day. I took that as a sign.

I left the cottage after lunch, the old Defender started on the first attempt and on the way to the river, a young girl smiled and pointed it out to her Dad. I returned her smile. The beat was deserted and the river looked perfect. I was quietly confident that I would catch a trout or two.

After flicking a nymph into a tree I settled into a rhythm and from the top of the beat, I worked all the usual pools and riffles downstream. The prolonged hot weather had stressed the trees which were shedding leaves. The river had just enough ash and hazel leaves tumbling around to make life difficult. The back eddies and slacks were unfishable, it’s amazing how easy it is to hook a leaf !

A few small trout were rising for midges but none were interested in my dry fly. It was a pleasant walk and the scenery was beautiful. We need prolonged heavy rain.

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