Out in the boiling heat yesterday on the lower beat of the Seven. The river was little more than a trickle in some places; low, slow and clear:
I didn’t think it was going to be easy and I was right. There were fish aplenty rising, but unsurprisingly picky. I worked my way through a handful of small flies trying to get some interest: IOBO at 18, midge at 22, deer hair emerger at 16. No dice. Eventually, as ever, I stuck on one of my foamy emergers as I was getting fed up with the others sinking. To cut a long story short I ended up plucking four small ones out, and lost what seemed like a better fish, which snatched furiously at the fly and the knot unravelled. Poor show. Here are a couple of the fish – all four were of the same ilk:
Four little fish in three hours. Could have been worse. Quite happy that my waders leak a bit – nice and cool on the lower leg at least.