Carl Hier Casts A Fly In The Heart Of Wales

Staying a few days in mid-Wales offered me an opportunity not to be missed. The River Irfon tumbles over the Cambrian Mountains on its way to meet the Wye. Usually, at the height of summer, one can expect a gentle meandering thread of water, perhaps dimpled with the occasional rise of a small wild brown trout. This time, several days of persistent rain have put paid to that idyllic image. I am welcomed by a turbulent, tinged river. Locals advised to ‘give it a few days’ but I didn’t have the luxury of that time so decided to face the challenge and give it a go. 

Walking across a lush green meadow towards the noise of rushing water and glimpsing the river for the first time, it offered numerous attractive runs and pools. It was very apparent however, that getting a fly into the ‘hotspots’ and likely-looking lies would be extremely difficult. It was certainly ‘up’ and the colour of tea, uncharacteristically so for mid-summer. The increased water levels, firstly, meant the majority of access into the river was difficult and secondly, had brought many overhanging trees into play that otherwise at this time of year, would not have presented any issue.

It had been a long while since I had dabbled with a fly rod in pursuit of wild brown trout. Once in the water, I battled with the bedrock. The treacherously slippery, sloping surfaces afforded me no comfort. Extreme concentration and care were needed as I slowly waded, experimented with a few different flies, returned to the bank, walked a little, waded in at other likely looking spots and repeated the process, methodically working my way up-river. Long stretches of water were ‘out-of-bounds’ either due to steep banks dropping into dark, deep water, or the sharply sloping bedrock appearing not too dissimilar to ice-rink conditions. There were, however, a number of slower, calmer areas, some of which allowed me to venture out into the river and to present a fly or two along some very attractive runs.

There is nothing quite like exploring a river for the first time. I have the same feeling landing at a new airport or arriving in a new city for the first time. Not knowing what’s around the corner is so exciting; the anticipation, the interest, the butterflies in the belly. Sometimes a slight disappointment is felt when new features are revealed, at other times joy and jubilation. In this case too, thanks to the water conditions, there was a mix of emotions through the day. Some areas prompted the heart to skip a beat. “There simply MUST be a fish or two there” I thought. Other areas gave rise to frustration. Perfect-looking little pools and back-eddies were out of reach on the far bank, with deep gullies on the near bank preventing safe navigation.

Areas Of Calmer Water Still Had Their Challenges

Beaded nymphs were the order of the day and a degree of fining-down was noticeable as the day wore on. The sun eventually made a welcome visit but nevertheless it remained a challenging environment for one who is perhaps more at home with lily pads and a quill float. 

Kingfishers and wagtails heralded my presence wherever I ventured. A startled heron lumbered into flight and gave a loud, disgruntled call as I continued to explore. Buzzards called and argued overhead from time to time when nuisance-crows interfered with their serene circling aboard the friendly thermals.

At one point in the sun-drenched afternoon, I took a rest from my walking and wading routine. Sitting on the bank I counted a dozen red kites and a number of buzzards all sharing the same thermal, gracefully circling without a care in the world. Just wonderful!

Had I been permitted a small float, a few split-shot and perhaps a handful of worms then I am sure the river would have opened up like a new book and the possibility of success, as well as my confidence, would have soared. On this day however, I was limited to fishing with a ‘bait’ that had neither smell nor flavour.

Spending the day casting with imitation insects presents a very different challenge but it’s no less enjoyable. Everything I needed, aside from a small landing net, was in the pockets of my waistcoat. 

‘Matching the hatch’ is always the aim but when there’s no discernible hatch the challenge grows in size. Bankside entomology is always interesting and no matter what conditions prevail, stones can always be lifted in the margins to look for indications of what’s on the daily menu for inhabitants of the river.

Attractive To The Angler, But The Fish?

Freshwater shrimp, caddis-fly larvae and miniscule bloodworms can all be imitated and attempts made to cast your offerings to likely lies. Comparing a real insect or larva to the imitations in a fly-box is a lovely way of spending time at the water’s edge. Ultimately, tempting a wild fish to take a self-tied fly is surely one of the pinnacles for any avid angler.

On this day, there was no hatch. With little or no visible insect life around, I continued to search for the calmer areas with my wet-fly approach, the imitation insects sinking close to the bottom thanks to the small ‘bead’ of metal at the eye of the hook. 

In certain places, access at least allowed me to get into the water without risking my life. These were few and far between and somethat showed themselves invariably presented difficulties with no room for a back cast. Whilst the water-side vegetation was perfectfor the birds, animals and insects that called this place home, it certainly added to the degree of difficulty for the angler.

All Sorts Of Creatures Call The River & Its Banks Home

Perseverance was required. Despite the sun warming up the afternoon, no appreciable fly life showed itself. Beaded nymphs of various guises trundling along the stoney bottom gave way to black gnats, grey duns, March browns, the representations ever-decreasing in size and being fished closer and closer to the surface of the water as the sun’s warmth increased. Numerous larvae and pupae imitations were presented, a range of bloodworm patterns looked great to me, but no interest below the surface was forthcoming.   

Despite the River Irfon beating me hands-down on my debut, it was a thoroughly enjoyable day. I was reminded of several ‘lessons learned’ when talking to some locals in the hotel that evening. 

Firstly, an imitation fly in the box may look beautiful and enticing to me but the only thing that matters is its appearance in the water. Secondly, comfortable spots for the fisherman are not necessarily where the fish can be found, and thirdly, overhanging branches are capable of lunging forward (even without a breeze) and reaching out to grab your fly in the back-cast!  

Most importantly, you really don’t need fish to enjoy a day beside a river. A challenging environment it may have been but a great time was had trying.

Writing & Images – Carl Hier, South Wales, February 2024