On the long journey in (the final section an hour on narrow gravel “road”) I anticipated a relatively sedate, perhaps boring day, casting and retrieving streamers on a high country lake.  The experience proved to be substantially different.

And boring? Certainly not.

With access to the lake across a private station, the first task was to drop in and sign in; a bottle of wine left as a token of access appreciation. Geared up, a short walk over the hill provided the first view of the lake. There were promising signs, with the sight and sound of rising fish occasionally breaking the mirrored surface.

We stealthily stalked the lake edge, searching for cruising trout; the overcast conditions making spotting difficult. Eventually, potential quarry was sighted and the game began.  On my knees to stay low, only the leader and tippet on the water ahead of the feeding fish. A twitch, the trout turned and took the nymph. A good start.

Then the sun hit the lake…

…and the surface activity accelerated. Every 10 metres along the shoreline there were rises, including fish leaping clear of the water in spectacular fashion.

Dry flies were the lures of choice now, starting with the ubiquitous Royal Wulff and variants, sometimes with a small dropper nymph. Frustration mounted as several changes in fly failed to unlock the secret behind the feeding frenzy.  Damsel flies, dragonflies and moths filled the air, but associated flies were ignored. Finally, a fish took a sinking brown beetle fly – we were close but had no further success.

The wind whipped up

Charging across the lake was the famed nor-wester. Surface activity ceased – it was time to change tactics once more.

The only weighted streamer in my arsenal was an orange rabbit, which seemed a bit gaudy but worked a treat when slowly drawn through the weed beds. Dad quickly followed, tying on a micro sex-dungeon, which was disturbingly alluring to the fish!

Small wind-driven waves afforded cover and and fly movement and each cast was filled with promise. In one memorable moment, I watched the fly to see how it was moving in the water, only to see not one, but two trout following.  In a short period, 7 fish were landed – the majority released.

With a decent drive ahead back, we called it a day, satisfied with a day’s fishing that rewarded the time taken to change tactics to suit the conditions.

Epilogue

A couple of fish were taken for the table.  On inspecting the innards, green beetles were abundant – a veritable belly full of beetles.  Mystery finally unlocked, we were hit with the thought that this great day could have been so much greater…