The hike in revealed the sort of water we'd been looking for. We'd all been here before, but I'd only explored upstream. Tim had come here years ago in exploratory mode. Jase and I had dropped in a couple of years ago after a hair raising climb down a bank. On the way South we'd hatched the plan - get into the watershed and head to the confluence of the three streams, below which the river takes on a new name. That should put us in water that was relatively untouched this season, most day-trippers probably only walking down a few pools. Its rugged in here. The river looked skinny, low in flow. We passed gorges early before the valley opened, allowing us to exit the river bed and travel through the adjacent beech forest. Deer sign littered the sandy beaches and blue ducks abounded.
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| Whio |
We estimated we had 2 hours of travel before reaching our goal. With light rain forecast from late morning, we were keen to be fishing while we had some light for spotting, although uniform cloud against high banks gave us more than acceptable visual conditions. Despite some turns that took us through thigh deep bog we made good time and arrived at our destination. What a spot! A return trip to camp out was promised. Ahead of us we spooked a spiker and hind, our noisy approach covered by the sound of running water allowed us quite a close approach, and shortly a Canada goose took to the air. Tim was first to be set up and took the first glide. First cast and he was on, landing a fat fresh 'bow. The theme for the day turned out to be plentiful rainbows, unusual according to the lads who mentioned that low fish numbers had been experienced in the past.
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| Photo credits: Tim Angeli & NickF |
In one turquoise pool, wide and deep, slashed and gouged from papa rock, a procession of fish lined up nose to tail or in pods. Jase hooked and landed 4, Tim hooked and landed 2 and I hooked a couple and banked one before they all took to sulking on the bottom.
We'd tried to keep to a schedule to ensure we exited the valley before nightfall but even so, managed to fall behind such was the engrossment in the fishing. Arriving at the truck wet and cold, we stripped off damp layers and donned spare clothes. Once on the road in the warm truck we pulled off to buy beer and snacks. At the hut the potbelly stove raged as we ate venison steak with fresh bread and salad, washed down with Pilsner.
