A stiff easterly breeze, bright sunshine and a cloudless sky were not ideal weather conditions for trout fishing. I woke up early to see the boys off to school and to feed my furry friend. He stayed at home guarding the house against pesky squirrels.

I left the house and drove south towards Petworth through the school run traffic. I wanted to catch a trout using a mayfly. The start of the mayfly season is triggered mainly by the length of daylight hours. The earliest I had seen mayfly at the lakes was 30 April, St Georges Day was a bit early.

Little Springs was deserted and the trout were cruising in the shadows cast by the oak and lime trees along the east bank. They were gently sipping down the flies, occasionally head and tailing for buzzers. I fed the fly line through the many rings on the #3 10′ 6″ Sage ESN and checked that I hadn’t missed any or twisted the Rio line around the rod. The rod and line are a perfect match although not designed for my style of fishing.

I started with a teal winged mayfly, dropped ahead of cruising fish. It was carefully inspected and rejected by several fish. I changed to a French partridge pattern, that was also rejected. There were lots of Alder flies fluttering in the breeze but few landed in the water. It occurred to me that the fish might be focusing on buzzers but I persevered with a selection of mayflies.

I changed the tippet to 3lb and tied on a size 14 mayfly. Aiming high and ahead of a cruising fish, it fluttered down slowly and produced a positive take. The trout became airborne before running down the lake. It was in fin perfect condition and the fly dropped out of its jaw in the landing net, a perfect release. Job done. As the sun rose, the tree shadows faded and the fish retreated to the deeper water. I followed and missed a few more takes before heading back to the car for breakfast and a Red Bull, my substitute for coffee.

I sat on the bench at Great Springs, flicked a parachute pheasant tail into the wind and watched for a swirl. Tree debris, bud scales and petals, were being blown across the lake towards me and the trout were testing them to see if they were edible. The fish were only a few feet from the bank and I eventually hooked one which wriggled free after a few seconds. Never mind.

The wind and hot sun had exhausted me and I drove away from the lakes in a trance. It was twenty minutes before I realised that I was heading in the wrong direction. I could have caught a few more fish if I had switched to a buzzer but I had achieved my objective and all was well.

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