A river somewhere

Each year, when the cicadas are chirping, we paddle up a river to chase bass on fly. 


It was a hot day on this trip and the bass were active. We caught a few casting from our kayaks at the top of the river, where the water is deep and dark up against the rocks lining the banks.

When we could paddle no further we tied up our kayaks and continued on foot.

The best fishing spots take effort to discover and this was no exception. After climbing over boulders as slippery as ice and bashing our way through thick foliage, we fished a few pools that were full of bass.

The fish weren’t big but they were aggressive. Most of my strikes happened when the fly was sitting still on the surface. Greg took a few on a spin rod with a cicada lure.

After a night camping in the bush we paddled back down the river. Greg caught and released an impressive flathead which was hiding under a dead tree that lay in the middle of the river.

I managed a few bream on surface lures. Interestingly, the fish were out in the middle of the river rather than hiding in deeper water at its edges. The fish were caught in clear, shallow water.

And then, before we knew it, we were back at the car park, with cicadas buzzing above us in the gum trees. Another fishing adventure etched into our memories.

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