For the third time, the “Carpentry Club” headed to The Lakes. They certainly have another name besides The Lakes, but I was sworn to a promise not to reveal either their name or their location. Naturally, I intend to keep that promise and will refer to them simply as The Lakes. I can disclose, however, that it is a very long journey for a city dweller. It is certainly tempting to write about the mountain names and the surrounding nature in this post, but due to my oath of silence, I must refrain from that as well. This is a pity, as the setting of the lakes is magnificent. It would also have been interesting to discuss the origin of the lakes, but the oath of silence prevents that story too.
We fished Saturday afternoon, all day Sunday, and until noon on Monday. The weather was on our side the entire time. The sun shone in a clear sky, and the wind was favorable for fly fishing. For a while, the wind even dropped to a dead calm. One of the things commonly done on fishing trips is to reminisce about past outings and argue over who caught the most and the best. Such discussions are quickly settled in the Carpentry Club. One member of the group has kept a detailed log of his fishing for many years, if not decades. When we need to recall past catches, he pulls out his Excel spreadsheet, and that settles it. Before the final shift, it became clear that there was a possibility of breaking the previous record. According to the Great Excel Sheet, the previous record was set at Steinsmýrarvötn in 2009. Back then, the group landed a total of 106 trout. The catch was quite good on Saturday and Sunday, and it was clear we had a chance to break the record. To do so, each member of the club needed to land six trout during the final shift.
I mentioned that the wind was favorable for fly fishing. Were we actually wielding our fly rods, given that previous trips had made us think it was unlikely to yield results? Yes, of course we tried, even though our faith was low. On Saturday, I managed to land two brown trout on a Black Nobbler near the end of the session. I hadn’t thought to try earlier due to my skepticism. When I met my companion, he told me he had landed several on the fly and was in high spirits. As it turned out, it was indeed possible to get the trout to take the fly.
On Monday morning, we scattered here and there across the fishing area. I headed to lakes three and four, which are quite small. I caught one decent brown trout on bait in lake three. After casting my fly all over the lake with no luck, I gave up and moved to lake four. I started by setting up my “lazy rod” (bait rod) and then began casting the fly. In that spot, I believe it’s essential to let the fly fish near the bottom. Some of the lakes seemed deep enough that a sinking line was the way to go. Consequently, I put the reel with the slow-sinking line on the rod and retrieved slowly. I started by trying some rather flashy flies I had bought at Vesturröst specifically for the trip, but I quickly gave up on them. They were a nightmare to cast. I tied on a Red Nobbler and, lo and behold! Soon, a nearly four-pound Arctic char struck. Shortly after, another two-pounder followed, and then two sizable brown trout. Throughout all of this, the fish didn’t even touch the bait. This just goes to show that one should never leave the fly rod behind when heading out to fish.
During this final shift, I landed six fish, all of which were quite substantial, and in the end, I landed a total of 22 trout. Although I landed the fewest fish among my companions in the Carpentry Club, I’m not crying about it; I’m very satisfied with the trip. On the final day, I managed to land the six trout needed to help break the club’s fishing record. It was a relief, as I couldn’t be blamed for the record not being broken! My companions did much better, and the record was smashed—thoroughly. In total, the trip ended with 126 trout. Most of them were brown trout, but there were several Arctic char in the catch, some of them quite large.
