Autumn On The Timbarra

Autumn On The Timbarra

Driving up towards Buchan on a late April morning the weather was best described as brisk. Autumn had taken hold, the nights were colder and the deciduous trees portrayed that amazing array of colours, produced just before their leaves drop. Best thing was, the sky was blue, the day would warm to about 20 degrees and I was heading for the Upper Timbarra. I normally fish the settlement area however, my thinking went along the lines of the healthy river flows and colder weather combining to initiate the Trouts push to higher stretches prior to spawning. The promise of a warm day “should” result in insect activity and just maybe these Trout, if there, would dine well in anticipation of the rigours of piscine courtship – what optimism exists within the minds of fishermen!

Just South of Buchan I turn towards Timbarra, but today drive up towards logging country before taking a discreet dirt track and commencing the slow 4WD descent to the hidden Timbarra River far below. The Trout here don`t see too many of us fishermen and there is a good reason for that, there is no bank access and you need to bush bash downstream for thirty to forty minutes in order to give yourself three hours or more upstream fly fishing. You travel light, very little gear and with the necessary water and first aid kit!

The water in this valley is magnificent, displaying so much promise and character with no need for complex fishing. As I tackled the assault course of thick scrub, fallen trees and Wombat holes, I reckoned a simple rig of weighted nymph below a bushy dry would allow me to search the rivers glides and deeper holes. Every day brings a different challenge and whereas in summer I would be sweating heavily and looking for snakes, todays challenge was to avoid the slippery surfaces of damp, fallen tree branches. Twice my feet had shot out at angles and I had to remain focussed to avoid this happening too often. At last a gap I could use to reach the river. A quick change into waders, drink, munchies and attach a size 12 Red Humpy. Hell, can`t be bothered to tie on a nymph as the water screams “Dry Fly”!!

 

How many times have I been here? Not the location, more this place in my mind! You know, it all looks so promising that you can`t fail to catch yet, whether through ineptitude, wrong fly or just some reason known only to Trout, it just doesn`t happen. You still have fun, the peace and scenery eases those inner stresses and you try to wonder why you only caught a couple, dropped the biggie and felt like CoCo the clown as you presented your fly to the best fish of the day. With these thoughts drifting through my mind I miss an “unmissable” take on the second cast – “Oh no! Here we go” my inner tormentor whispers.  “OK, focus, think and enjoy”. Next cast is to a spot just upstream of a large boulder and as the Humpy drifts past it simply disappears – Fly – No Fly! Rod up, no slack line and “Yes, I`m in”. In a split second the Trout is across the river, down the river and then airborne twice, showing me that light crimson flash that is only found on a Rainbow Trout. Strong flows, healthy fish, even a 10 incher like this gives a good account of itself until I slide into the net, admire its sheer beauty and quickly let it slip back into that cold, clear water to wonder just what happened to cause such panic in its normally predictable day to day existence.

Well, a good start gets better as I land 3 Browns, lose another Rainbow and then lose my fly  to the trees  that so densely line the  river banks. A good chance to reflect, admire the beauty of this hidden stretch of river and finally tie on another biggish Humpy, as why change a winning formula? It’s a commercially tied Humpy so I customise it to my preferred style – bottom hackles cut flush so it sits in the surface film and white posts trimmed to prevent the fly spinning  during each cast. Apply the mucilin, work out a bit of line and away we go again. The Browns had all been about 12 inches in length, fat, healthy and happy to slug it out against my light 4 weight rod using the vigorous high country flows to their advantage. 

For once it all comes together. I see very few rises to natural insects, but the Trout are looking up and happy to snatch my fly if I can avoid too much drag. One even pursues my fly when it is sprinting downstream under the forces of extreme drag! Three times the Trout grabs at it before finally seeing me and hurtling for the cover of the nearest boulder – always expect the unexpected! Three hours pass in a flash and I suddenly realise I don`t need to catch anymore. Fourteen fish landed, of which two were Rainbows. Most of these were between 11 and 13 inches and the biggest was just short of 14 inches, beautifully coloured and in prime condition for spawning – wow, what a special session that turned out to be. Looking up, I realised I still had nearly half a kilometre of water to fish. Instead I unrigged, waded up towards the gap that I knew was close to the Patrol and reflected that I had seen very little natural insect activity, or had I simply been too absorbed in my own activities? Either way, this had been a day to remember and reminded me that, despite the ravages of ten years of drought, the Timbarra River was now back in pristine condition, looking every inch the gem that it is.

Thanks to customer Glenn Strike (Great surname!) for this contribution.