The editor’s cast
This season, Andrew Flitcroft has stepped away from familiarity in his fishing, and is feeling the benefits
DO YOU ever get tired of fishing the same water, or is it just me that needs to cast my line wider?
I have a gorgeous stretch of stream nearby that I’ve leased for the past 25 years and take for granted. Together with a small group of like-minded fly-fishers, we carry out working parties in the winter and fish it throughout the summer months. It’s stuffed full of small wild brown trout. A two-pounder is huge here — you can jump over it in places, or wade across it in wellies.
Yet I didn’t fish it once this year, despite the best of intentions.
Excuses varied from “It’s too hot — and not fair on the trout,” to “I’m too busy launching The Take.” If truth be told, I just didn’t get the urge. Normally, in May, when it’s at its prime and the insects are abundant, I love it. I think how lucky I am to have it on my doorstep and visit regularly, at least until the dog roses in the hedgerows signal the start of the sea-trout run.
Not this year. I missed my initial burst of enthusiasm and found myself fancying pastures new.
And perhaps that’s the point. Fishing on your doorstep can become too familiar — even, dare I say it, boring. When I find myself simply going through the motions, without that edge of excitement, I’d rather look elsewhere.
In fact, over the years, I’ve come to appreciate this stream more after a break from it. When I return, it has invariably changed. Perhaps a tree has fallen in, altering the course and moving fish from the same old lies. Suddenly, there are new things to discover and new problems to solve. The stream feels fresh and challenging again.
The trick, then, is not to fish more; it’s to seek variety that keeps fire in your belly
That has made me think more carefully about how I plan my fishing. I like having a few other options up my sleeve: new water to escape to when I need a change, different people to meet and unfamiliar places to explore. Variety brings back some of the excitement and mystery that familiarity can gradually erode.
I’ve recently joined a new syndicate on a river almost four hours from home. I’m learning it from scratch and it’s great fun. It’s also far enough away to feel like a genuine getaway. I’ve found some motel-like accommodation nearby, which means I can fish into the early hours — when the sea-trout have had enough — and return without disturbing anyone. I recently visited the river for the first time and, despite seeing the light from their head torches, have yet to meet the other fishers. We passed like ships in the night, but I like that. It’s a place of solitude. It feels personal. It’s different. And that, I think, is worth planning for.
Andrew’s local trout stream, at its prime.
Peter Gathercole
Good craic and a "proper" Guinness with friends and fellow fishers in Doherty’s Bar, Ballina, Ireland.
Andrew Flitcroft
So, rather than simply waiting for the fishing to happen, perhaps it pays to build some variety into your season:
Keep some familiar water, but don’t rely on it exclusively: Your local river, stream or lake is wonderfully convenient but leave it alone occasionally. A break can make you appreciate it again — and may even give the water time to change.
Have somewhere new to learn: New water brings back the uncertainty that is so much part of fishing’s appeal. Where are the trout? What will they eat? When does the fishing come alive? Even blank days can be interesting when you’re trying to work things out.
Plan short getaways: They don’t have to be extravagant or involve travelling hundreds of miles. Simply being far enough from home to break the normal routine can change your outlook.
Leave some room for fishing on a whim: I’m happy fishing in my own company, and that certainly helps with logistics. There’s no calendar table-tennis, no compromise over which beat to fish. If the conditions look right, I can simply go. That’s not to say fishing with others isn’t fun. It is. But having the freedom to fish alone adds another layer of variety when you need it.
Arrange something with friends: Fish further afield, either once or a couple of times a year with good friends. It can be the highlight of the season. The planning, the build-up and the preparation can be months in the making, and when the time comes the enthusiasm is heightened. Those trips matter because they give the season structure. They become milestones to look forward to rather than simply another day on the river.
The trick, then, is not to fish more; it’s to seek variety that keeps fire in your belly.
Have familiar water for comfort. Have new water for discovery. Have trips with friends for the camaraderie and leave space for the occasional day when you simply head off on your own.
As for my little stream, I’m sure I’ll be back next season. And I suspect I’ll enjoy it more for having stayed away — especially when I unleash my delightful new Ström 8ft 8in 3wt!
