I envy all you fishers who, when ‘times is right’, flip down to your local stream, fish, catch, and then, post pictures of your great catch.
Be aware that when you do, I am in London where my local stream, the mighty Thames, looks brown, because it is mainly, and I envy the local fisher here, too, the cormorants, who float by, on the ebb tide, one with a dab in mouth, another a small eel, both shaking their heads madly side to side, in their attempts to swallow their catch, for even these marauders must eat.
I have to plan my trips, and having plotted and planned many, it is a harsh reality that some are shortened by the inclement. Often my pre season intention to fish at least this many days, is constricted.
I had surfed the net and discovered almost by accident that a tackle shop in Bridgend sold day tickets for the Ogmore Angling Association‘s water on the Ogmore and a call to them, connected me with a very enthusiastic, Dean, who confirmed “yes, we do”, so it was a “see you tomorrow, then” from me.
A bit like golf, when ones confidence is high, you just know that this would be a good day. And so I felt when I set off, and according to my weather App, the Gods were likely to be on my side, too!
Coming off the M4 at Junction 36, it proved easy for my SatNav to find Keens ’Tackle & Guns’, where I was greeted by Dean, and he proffered that there was a “ Bit of rain coming…should be good, you will ‘clean up’ “
The whole team in this traditional store, a rare Aladdin’s Cave of a shop, was helpful and whilst there were fish in the stretch just behind the shop, the recommendation was that I drive toward Bridgend and park in the Tesco car park, walk downstream toward the Ogmore estuary, albeit seven miles away and walk back up and fish the various pools. But I couldn’t easily wrap my mind around this bit, but then the Welsh adore sewin!
My first view of the Ogmore was from leaning over the town bridge, where I noted rocks and stones, riffles and pools…deep pools…which resonated of salmon and sea trout, the local ‘delicacy’!
Back into the car I headed for Tesco, but I was distracted by a narrow turning to my left, and the explorer in me took over. In the narrow lane I found a wide layby which was obviously a fly tippers’ delight but the only litter I saw were signs advising prospective tippers not to, with suggestions that if they did, the security cameras hidden in the foliage would surely spot them!
I peered through said foliage and spotted likely looking lies and no Theo Pike, since I prefer the solitude and leaves, to shops, concrete and people, I was persuaded into this slippery rock arena, by what I saw.
And I was pleased I did. Running a duo down a fast run, a tug on the weighted nymph reminded me that this was to be my day! Turning to move upstream with the same rig, I rose a small fish close to the bank, and continued upstream.
It was to be my day.
My first Ogmore and (County of) Bridgend trout came very soon, after I switched to a parachute Adams.
And then in the middle of a longer pool I noted several fish swirling and managed to connect with some more, from under some large trees canopying the far, true left bank. One was an absolute ‘corker’, too.
I felt so confident, that I was sure that a drive to the Ebbw in Newport would be productive, but I have already written about that, because it was.
Funny thing, confidence!