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The weather is forecast to be windy, but on this closing day there's no doubt there'll be plenty of people at the water's edge. To avoid the crowds, I'm going to choose a river that's not very busy. I'm not sure I'll see any trout, but no doubt the chub will be there.
This sector has unfortunately suffered greatly in recent years, with its trout population melting like snow in the sun. Droughts, various forms of pollution, things have happened very quickly.
The river is wide and I know I won't have much fishing time. Once the wind picks up, it's all over.
I took my old Sage with me for the occasion, and she's delighted to be out of the closet. More than just a piece of carbon, she's a companion with whom we've shared many moments, and the very fact of walking with her again gives me pleasure on this last day of the season.
It's soon put to good use as I see two chub nonchalantly swimming upstream, just below the surface. I quickly tie on a large sedge and place it in their path. The more opportunistic of the two climbs up and gobbles it up extremely slowly.
The meter is unlocked, I will not be hood for this closure :
I'm going to get some more, alternating dry and nymph. I'll also try a barbel but without success. Then I spot a long fish on the bottom. After careful observation, I'm sure it's a trout.
The fish isn't feeding, but I haven't seen a single insect since I arrived. I hesitate to choose a nymph between a gammare and a pheasant tail and finally choose gammare.
The first pose is far too short and I'm afraid the fish will run away from the impact too close to him. But there's a good layer of water above him and he doesn't move. I blame myself, as opportunities like this are unlikely to arise again. I apply myself and the second pose is much better. My nymph drifts and I can clearly see the fish rise in the water and then stop, a sign I think that my imitation has been caught. I hook and the old Sage bends, it's hooked. Given the size of the fish, I expected the fight to be intense, but it wasn't. I understand it when I put it in the net, this trout is very thin. An old fish at the end of its life. It reminds me of an emaciated old lion.
A quick photo and he's back in his river for the rest of his life.
This will be my last first-class fish this year. The wind has invited itself in and ripples are appearing on the surface, preventing any visibility. Dead leaves swirl in the air and cover the river, and it's closing time.
