There is an Olde English saying “Ne’er cast a clout, til May be out” referring to the uncertain English climate and not removing warm clothing, until the May flowers are out on the hawthorn trees. Well, they were out in force, as I approached the river this week, but the single figure temperature from the strong north wind and the rapidly darkening sky, said something different.

Unlike last week’s warm spell, there were no airborne flies and the river was running fast with a tinge more colour, but I decided to give my size 16 Black Klinkhammer a try at a tree shrouded pool, hoping to avoid the gusting wind. Wading up from the shallows,  my first cast latched into a small brown from the tail of the pool, which was released without fuss. A cast further up resulted in a splashy take and a similar sized 4 oz trout. The wind was really difficult, swirling around the pool and I snagged my fly a few times in the branches, before I succeeded in dropping it in behind an overhang, where I didn’t see a take in the ripple, but saw the surface flatten with a boil and my leader disappearing into it. I lifted into a very large fish, which dived to the depths of the pool and came off. Thinking I’d been broken, I checked for the fly and found the the hook had opened out, maybe the fish, but more likely the last tree I’d pulled out of.

The Klinkhammer was now waterlogged and decided to try shock tactics with a size 12 Yellow Humpy further downstream, prospecting the big buoyant fly in all the likely places without an offer. Walking across the meadow, the wind was getting up and black clouds were approaching fast and I decided the next pool would be my last try of the day. Like the others, there were no signs of rising fish and this pool was more exposed to the gusts,with the fly dragging across the surface. When the Mayfly are being taken, this will often bring up a trout, but not today. A quick change of tactics saw my Black Devil nymph tied on and shortly after, I responded to a slow 4 inch draw of the leader, to find a hard fighting wild fish on the end.

Having released this little brown to dart back into the pool, I could see black streaks advancing across the fields from the clouds above and decided to get back to the van before the shower hit. With three hundred yards to go, big hail stones began to fall, getting one straight down the neck for my trouble.

This was enough for me and the hail was turning to heavy rain by the time I reached the van.

Reaching the comfort of the van, I considered sitting it out, but with freezing hands and fresh hail pounding on the roof, I decided home was the best option, only to be greeted by bright sunshine on my arrival.