Sometimes you go on a fishing trip and feel there is little worth reporting once you get home. This was true of our trip to Lake Þingvallavatn this past Friday. The reason is likely the disappointment over the lack of bites, but of course, there is always something to tell.
Near Arnarfell, two older men sat chatting with a third. They had clearly had a successful outing, as they had several char with them. We began by casting in the same spot where I had caught seven char back in June, but nothing happened. We then decided to walk south along the lake toward Mjóanes, fishing here and there on our way back. I have hiked out that way twice before, but my wife never had.
In Lake Þingvallavatn, there are 550,000 snail-eating Arctic char swimming around, yet not one of them struck the bait we offered. There are also 23 million ‘murtas’ (small plankton-eating char) in the lake; they were far more interested and were constantly nipping at the fly. Only one fish made it into our food chest after this trip: a poor little brown trout that took my wife’s spinner, and it didn’t even weigh a pound.