The trout bites off Lambhagatá on Tuesdays, I thought last Tuesday as I drove over Mosfellsheiði towards Þingvellir. This perfectly illogical thought came to me following thoughts about all the advice that has not helped me on how to behave when fishing in Þingvallavatn.
When I arrive at the planned fishing spot, I remembered reading that one should wade out from the point (tá) there and cast towards the area where Bjarni Benediktsson’s cottage stood before it burned down. I did this, and on the third cast, I hooked a beautiful char. I thought at first it was a trout because it was quite powerful, but it was a char. I forgot the landing net at home, so I tried to drag the char to land, but the beauty escaped in the end.
While I was casting the fly to the area off Lambhagatá, pairs of mallards and tufted ducks were foraging along the bank behind me. Clearly accustomed to fishermen, because the birds did not let my actions bother them. After about half an hour, another char took, and this one I managed to land. It turned out to be a decent char, about two pounds. Shortly after, a third char took, but it escaped like the first one.
On the way back, I got into some kind of entanglement (flækjufót) and flew headfirst into the rocks with great bravado and broke the tip off the fishing rod. Nevertheless, I am not saying that I won’t put this Tuesday theory to the test and go out to Lambhagatá again next Tuesday.
