Crikey, the rain has actually stopped and the rivers are starting to recede. About time. So it was up to the Seven at Sinnington to see if the trout were astir. There was still something of a nip in the air early doors, but when I arrived at the river at lunchtime the mist had lifted and pray what is that yellow orb in the sky? Why, it’s the sun! The temperature had climbed to a scorching 13 degrees and actually the water looked not bad – plenty low enough and while slightly coloured it was remarkably clear.
A few small olives and sedges were coming off, but fish rising there were none. Anyhow, I slid into the water close to the start of the beat – a fairly straight rather unexciting stretch of the river. I had my 9ft 4wt Hardy Ultralite with a leader of around 13 ft, to which I tied a fairly heavy copper-headed PTN. The water was cold and the fish absent. I flogged away for an hour without a touch before coming to the weir pool:
I’d taken a couple of out-of-season trout here in the winter, so had high hopes of getting a result. After fifteen minutes of probing likely-looking water without success the line twitched and I lifted into a little wild broon. Result!
A further twenty minutes in the pool proved fruitless, so I wandered upstream above the weir to see if anything might be doing in the slower, deeper water which is fishable only from the bank. Crow Wood was looking splendid in the rather feeble sunshine:
Nothing showing, and a few speculative casts failed, unsurprisingly, to entice anything. I lost my fly in a tree, and somewhat despondent decided to bung on a small emerger and have a quick recce upstream. If I saw any movement I’d give it a shot. I didn’t. But Spring is nudging Nature in the ribs and there are signs, along the bank at least, that she is waking up:
Called it a day after a couple of hours. I didn’t blank, I had time in the water and the sun made a rare appearance. That all makes me happy.