FLYLIFE^11pools and the challenge of fish cruis-
ing many metres under the surface.
Through sheer perseverance we
caught fish, though our progress
upstream was slow. It was not till
lunchtime, with the sun now high in
the sky, that we first saw the quintes-
sential Rangitikei experience. At the
head of a deep and slow flowing pool
we counted eight fish parked across
the lip in water between a foot and
three feet deep, all rising to a prolific
hatch of small mayflies. For a while
we simply stood and watched, taking
in the scene and letting our excite-
ment reach a crescendo.
It was Tim’s turn on the rod, but
I honestly didn’t know which of us
was the lucky one. It is one thing to
fish in a situation like this, and quite
another to see the magic unfold as a
spectator. Thus it was that I saw the
drift of Tim’s Purple Haze interrupted
by a heavily kyped set of jaws. After
being thoroughly towed around the
pool Tim succeeded in bringing to the
net a cracking green backed and pink
striped rainbow jack.
PURE AND SIMPLE
We managed a few more fish that
afternoon, but the fishing slowed as
the river grew tighter still and the
light dropped. Increasing our pace,
we made for the campsite Russell had
recommended and upon arriving set
about gathering wood for a fire and
preparing dinner before venturing out
for the evening rise. Opposite camp
was an immense pool with water so
still that daytime presentations would
be challenging, yet perfectly suited
for the evening rise. Backcountry Cui-
sines in hand (roast lamb this time...)
we sat by the water and waited.
Like clockwork, as the last rays of
light fell behind the ridgeline, the trout
began to show. Though slow at first, asthe hatch ramped up, so did the rises
until the trout became targetable —
holding station and letting the emerg-
ing mayflies simply come to them.
After releasing each fish we’d rest the
water, take another bite of dinner and
a swig of whisky, and let the next fish
give away its position. Fishing like this
was pure and simple. No fly changes,
no stress: willing fish, deep in the wil-
derness, doing just what they’ve been
doing since their introduction.
Knowing we would camp at the
same spot for two nights afforded us
the luxury of ditching the contents
of our packs the next day and taking
just the bare minimum. It seemed the
energy of the day’s fishing mirrored
our own in the face of unburdened
packs. From the start of the day the
sun shone bright and by mid-morn-
ing we found a comfortable rhythm
throwing large terrestrial patterns to
fish sitting high in the column, glow-
ing under the summer sun. Fish after
fish rose to the dry and each blended
into the next in my memory. Such
was the experience that at one point
I forgot about the fishing and took
the opportunity to strip naked and
dive into the frigid waters, washing
the grime from the hike off me inElation as a good fish finds the net.A typical Rangitikei rainbow.
Luxury or necessity?