Woke up at six, cast my first line at seven-thirty, fished until I got hungry, and then went home. That is the brief description of an uneventful fishing trip to Lake Þingvallavatn. The weather was fantastic. The air temperature was around eight degrees when I arrived at Þingvellir, with a gentle southwesterly breeze and the sun breaking through the clouds every now and then.
I was hoping for the first fish of the summer, but it seems it will have to wait until the next trip. I started by trying my luck just north of Ólafsdrátt. I cast there for over an hour and a half with no success. Just before nine-thirty, I pushed my way through the brush up to the road and drove to Vatnskot. There were eight anglers already trying their luck, and I became the ninth. I fished there for two and a half hours and accomplished nothing except losing flies. During that time, I didn't see a single one of the fishermen there land a fish. In the parking lot, I met a man who had visited the lake a few times this spring. He said the spring had been poor. The Arctic char should have arrived by now, but the water is probably just still too cold.