I felt the backyard was missing a storage shed, so I decided to build one this spring. That’s how my Sunday began. I spent the first half of the day building, but around five o'clock, my wife and I jumped in the car and drove to Þingvellir. My goal this time was to fish at Ólafsdráttur. The weather was fantastic, as it has been so often lately, though a strong westerly wind was blowing across the moor. We weren't entirely sure about the conditions, as we’d be facing the wind head-on at our intended spot. However, when we arrived at the lake, it was nearly dead calm, so we decided to stick with the plan and fish Ólafsdráttur.
To reach the fishing spot, one has to scramble quite a bit and push through thick brush. My wife was none too pleased with me for dragging her down there; she mentioned being both afraid of heights and too stiff for such a scramble. It was nearly dead calm when we set off, with the temperature at 16°C. It took us about fifteen minutes to reach the spot, but by then, the westerly wind from the moor had arrived as well, making it no easy task to cast the line.
There was no catch on this trip. I did hook a decent fish, but it broke off. In fact, I began to suspect that my leader was faulty, as I lost one fly after another—and it wasn’t because I was getting snagged on the bottom.