As Autumn descends and seasons start to transition a trip to the river brings mixed emotions. Recent heavy rain has brought a tinge of colour to the river and there is hope of salmon and sea trout. The lower Taw and Torridge are both coloured and unfishable and so I have headed to a stretch of fishing on a tributary of the Taw.
I have thrown a heavy rod into the back of the car just in case I see a salmon but it’s the wild browns that I am seeking today with my ultra-light Snowbee Classic, a 4 wt thistledown line and a weighted nymph set up.
It is a delight to travel light to river and wander the bank flicking the nymphs into likely runs, pots and pools.
A cool North West Wind is sweeping clouds across the blue sky. Swallows and martins are swooping low over the grass undoubtedly feeding hard in preparation for their incredible migration to warmer climes. Large numbers of pheasants are strutting their stuff in the riverside fields oblivious to the rituals that await in October when the shooting season commences.
I work my way slowly up river and fail to connect over the first section. I change to a smaller nymph and shorten my leader slightly as the heavy nymph is catching the bottom too frequently.
I extend the line casting up and watching the bright orange section of my furled leader. I detect a twitch lift the rod and feel the vibrant life of a small brownie on the line. It comes off after a few seconds but my confidence is boosted and I fish on with renewed positivity.
A few casts later and a spirited trout of perhaps 6” is brought to hand and briefly admired.
Time is ebbing away as I reach my favourite pool and I work my way up working the nymph through the familiar waters. Connection comes as expected as a fine wild brown of perhaps 10” is brought to the net. I extract a further two beautiful wild browns of similar size but each is very different. Their flanks a sublime blend of rich colours, olives, golds, bronze and crimson. Their colours blending with the autumn hues to create a palette to please the most discerning artists eye.
I leave the river determined to return again before the season ends in a couple of weeks. Trouble is there are bass, mullet, tope and maybe a salmon calling from elsewhere. But still that constant beauty of the wild brown trout remains always there a reassuring presence for the past fifty odd years.
