Sunday, 13 July 2025

Stark Contrasts

The title of this post has a simple explanation.  At home in Yorkshire it stopped raining in February and less than an inch has fallen since, against a normal average of 9 inches.  The garden is a desert and I'm struggling to keep alive the collection of specimen plants and Acers established lovingly over the past 28 years.  Virtually every plant and tree in the garden is stressed apart from the two giant walnut trees (which I'd cheerfully fell but can't without planning permission, despite planting them myself).  In stark contrast, whenever I've gone salmon fishing, it's poured down - in Norway in late June and on the Tweed in early July as I describe below.  Consequently there isn't much to say about fishing, but I have some tackle points to share.

The Orkla 22-26 June

 
The Orkla at 0400 hrs 23rd June
Langholen Pool
The sun hasn't set, it's just behind the mountains

 
As I report last year we carried forward our booking at Grindal Lodge to 2025, helped by Krister the manager giving us the fishing for free and only charging for food and accommodation. Freebies go down well in Yorkshire.  Despite the extra costs involved, going to a catered lodge is an appropriate solution at our age, and John and Patrick had enough of my cooking.  Mindful of last year's experience of government-driven closure, every booking - flights, car hire, airport hotel - was cancellable and refundable.  This was of course more expensive, but provided protective peace of mind.  
  • Tip
    - As before I hired a golf club transport box from the local driving range at a cost of £20 to carry rods, boots and waders: as sports equipment this was on KLM's standard 23kg allowance despite its 4' length.  The rest of my clothing, reels, flies and bits fitted into a 9kg walk-on bag.
  •  Tip - For more general advice on travel to and fishing in Norway, have a look at 'You want to go to Norway'.
 



Pollen cascade at +85cm
Flowing at almost 12kph - serious temperature barrier

  
As our departure approached the catches in the research bag nets in the fjord were poor, but not as disastrous as 2024.  Those fish that did enter the Trondheim rivers were moving slowly in the face of the effects of the coldest and wettest spring in 50 years.  On the Upper Orkla the water temperature didn't reach double figures until 24th June, making both the Bjorset hydro intake dam and the Pollen falls temperature barriers.  Catches at Grindal were low and slow, but the average size was 23lbs, a compensating encouragement.  With government-regulated catch and release in force we assessed that there was only a low risk of another outright stoppage.
 
 
The flights from Leeds to Trondheim were uneventful and we checked into the airport Radisson, where we encountered two parties outbound from their early weeks on rivers just to the north.  Both had caught average numbers and seemed broadly happy.  We picked up the hire car from Sixt first thing the next morning:
  •  Tip - I had originally booked a Skoda Octavia Estate back in January on a 'pay at collection' basis.  Car hire everywhere in Europe is now very and unavoidably expensive.  However, by watching Sixt's special deals arriving in my email, a week before departure I was able to re-book a top of the range Volvo XC60 plug-in hybrid for £180 less than the Skoda.  In the event the Volvo used only 12 litres of petrol in 370 km of driving, courtesy of recharging at Grindal.
 We drove up the Orkla valley to Grindal, with snow from 10 days before still evident on the mountains to the east.  To our surprise, during the drive we didn't see a single angler on the river or car with rod clamps.  The level of fishing pressure was far below expectations for Week 26.  The general view is that mandatory C&R (killing salmon for the freezer is a deeply embedded Norwegian culture) and heavily publicised poor prospects had put the locals off.
 
 
Grindal - the view from my room
Grindal Lodge is perfectly located right beside the river, with 6 named pools within easy walking distance, and a further 11 within 10 minutes' drive.  My room was a good size, comfortable and with its own shower room across the corridor.  Our cabin also had a drying room, fitted for waders and boots.
 
The open plan main facility comprised dining and sitting areas and a bar, sized for a maximum of 24 people (12 rods with partners).  The food was excellent and the bar prices extraordinarily modest by Norwegian standards.  A small hut opposite the front door hosted a well supplied compact tackle shop, where you recorded your purchases on the honesty sheet (this is Norway!).
 
In our enthusiasm we had arrived 4 hours early.  With only a few rods out, Krister let us loose on the Home pool (Aunholen) as soon as we had finished disinfecting our waders and boots.
 
 
Aunholen on a dull first afternoon
The water was perfect and standard Norway clear.  The guide's advice was to fish a sinking line with a 15' S3 tip, with a #6 double.  He considered the MCX Dark spot on.
Aunholen is a lovely pool, with a fast neck and 250 metres of primary fishing length within sensible casting range.  The wading line ran outside the rocks in the photo and was relatively easy once you were out of the faster flow.  However, in that situation you had to strip rapidly from the dangle to avoid hooking the rocks.  It was a real pleasure to fish.
 
 
 
 
 
On my first run down the pool I inevitably hooked a rock at the dangle.  There's no point pulling directly, so I stripped off lots of running line and sent it off downstream to pull the fly from the other direction.  This worked a treat so I then started recovering a copious length of runner, far more than I need for the next cast.  To prevent another snagging I roll cast the main line out at 45 degrees and set about sorting myself out.  This sort of shambles is the perfect way to induce a take, and so it proved.  As the fly came round towards the dangle, a hefty thump from the tail-kick of a good fish proved the point.  I had no choice but to manage the first stage of the contest from the three loops of line arrayed on the fingers of my left hand.  The emergence of the fish onto the surface suggested that in my fear of a tangle, I was being much firmer than I would from the reel.  It did, however, allow a good look at a fresh salmon in the range 15-18 lbs.  Unfortunately this thrashing proved to be a good escape strategy, and after 10-15 seconds it came off.  I was disappointed but not downhearted, having hooked a good fish within 30 minutes of starting.
 
 
Frona - Patrick fishing down
We then went upstream, and changed banks to fish Frona, another lovely pool with 250 metres of fishable length ample for two rods and easy wading on pea gravel.  The running line was in the centre, well within easy casting range.  It was so lovely, a delight in salmon fishing heaven.
 
At around 1815 we called it a day and went in for a beer and a hearty supper, where we met the other 10 rods in the Lodge.  They were a cheerful and eclectic group of Swedes, Norwegians, Danes, and a charming Irishman.  Together they provided amusing company throughout our stay.  Remembering our lessons from 2017 we didn't fish into the night, but predictably I rose early to fish the Langholen pool at the top of the post before a hearty breakfast.
 
 
Korsholen
Half way down the upper section
We then went up to Korsholen, which is one of the best fish-holding pools on Grindal.  The top section is classic streamy water with lots of evident lies, while the bottom is massively deep - more than 25 feet in places and full of complex eddies - making it a real challenge to fish well.
I started on the top section, picking my way along the edge of the rocks.  The white water in the centre of the photo, generated by a couple of boulders, marks the transition from top to bottom.  As the MCX came round to the inside of the bigger boulder towards the dangle, my line gently headed off downstream, before parting company from an unseen salmon.
 
 
To fish the bottom section most effectively Krister recommended increasing to an S6 tip to work the depths on the far side.  Reaching all of them required some fairly heroic casting, but the 14' 7" Hero was well up to the job, which earned me my first even compliment on my casting from a guide or ghillie - unexpected but very gratifying.  As we were winding up for lunch the weather started to break into another stark contrast.  By 1400 it was near-biblical, coming down in sustained stair rods, with splashes rising 4" above the surface of the water.  Determinedly we went down to the bottom of the beat to fish the legendary Igdholen, another fish-holding pool.
 
 
Igdholen
Looking down to the tail from the left bank
The photo doesn't really show the full horror of the conditions.  The last time I fished in such rain was in 2015 in a downpour on the Deveron in my old Snowbee Prestige jacket, with water streaming in through the failing seams.  At least on this occasion, clad in a brand new Patagonia ST, I stayed completely dry, albeit I hate fishing with the hood up, depriving me of spatial and situational awareness, while creating constant feedback in my hearing aids.  It was absolutely miserable.  There were good numbers of big salmon moving and running in the rising water.  A moving 30 pounder is a majestic sight.  After battling the elements for 3 hours we called it a day, returning to the Lodge to meet Team Sweden who had decided to have a party rather than fish, and so were in excellent humour (and voice).
 
 
Kotterholen in spate
The normal wading line is down the left bank
By the next morning the Orkla was big, brown, ugly and downright dangerous.  We had no choice but to pass a quiet day in and around the Lodge: there are no extramural activities within 20 miles.
The following morning the river had fallen somewhat, but reaching the start point on Aunholen required 200 metres of wading up the bankside path.  Neither of us felt comfortable with the demands of the wading in the pool, so we called it a day at 1200 and set about packing up and loading the car.
 The return flight to Leeds was uneventful, despite the issues caused by Donald Trump attending the NATO conference in Amsterdam.
 
 
So what did I learn from the three days on the Orkla?
  • All salmon fishing is a gamble with the weather.  You just have to stay philosophical, even after your third Norwegian disappointment.
  • The Orkla is a beautiful river, which in normal conditions (i.e. not in the current downturn in runs) offers fantastic fishing.
  • The pools and fishing at Grindal are as good as they come.  The beat comprises the longest contiguous salmon fishery in the lower half of Norway, which offers a refreshing change from the long-haul driving between pools on the Gaula.  We never had to wait or compete for a pool, nor did we encounter another angler while fishing.
  • The Lodge is great in every respect - rooms, facilities, food, atmosphere - with outstanding staff.  And to our surprise, much cheaper than we anticipated.  My extras bill for three days' food, accommodation, guide tips, beer and wine, and two packets of Mustad Strong #6 doubles amounted to less than £120.
  • I'll cover the tackle and technique points later. 
 

 A Week on the Tweed

A very old friend invited me to join his 4 rod party at Boathouse on the Tweed in the first week of July. I accepted quickly and joyfully: another friend of the same vintage was in the party (the three of us started our Army training together in the same platoon 56 years ago); our host is an ace cook and bon viveur; the main objective was a holiday with fishing rather than a pure fishing holiday (if you get the distinction) and the location adjacent to Berwick offered numerous diversions; the Boathouse lodge is excellent; and there were opportunities to fish new water.  It promised to be a happy and fun week, and so it proved.  We arrived in searing heat and clear blue skies, fishing in T-shirts on the Monday.

 

Boathouse & Canny Middle Section
Ladykirk middle hut opposite
 
The Boathouse & Canny is a quite short, less than 1/2 mile, right bank beat that marches with Ladykirk and divides into three sections.  The top is around a lazy bend with slow-moving water that is deep in places, and offers little fishable length from the right side.  Moreover, the wading is ghastly.

The middle section known as the Flats, shown here, is broad, shallow and quite slow, especially in the lower water that favours the Bottom Tweed beats.

The short bottom section, which starts opposite the Ladykirk hut is the most interesting and productive. 

 

 

Pedwell
Island run down towards Norham Bridge
Fortunately our host had also booked slots on Pedwell and Horncliffe downstream, both of which are longer, more interesting and much more productive. 

I really enjoyed fishing the Island on the dull grey Tuesday, with a high level of expectancy and anticipation, albeit in a gusty 20-25 mph wind.  The second time down I moved a fish with an MCX pattern Sunray in the usual sequence of visible turn in, follow and turn away short of the fly.  It wasn't large, perhaps 6-7 lbs, but its nice bright sliver livery flashed in the turn away.

 

There weren't many fish running, but each tide produced another small flight, including the occasional large salmon making a majestic appearance.  Catching remained possible, provided that the river didn't rise.   Inevitably, driven by that dependence and in stark contrast to Monday, the heavens opened on Wednesday.  Unlike Grindal, I didn't even attempt to fish in the conditions to catch the early part of the lift.  Overnight it went up 2-3' with lots of pale Till mud reducing visibility to zero.  Thursday and Friday were washed out, so we did lots of tourism (Alnwick Castle Gardens, Bamburgh beach) and I laid on a battlefield tour of Halidon Hill (1333) just over the river, where the evidence suggests that my Berkshire serf forebear fought for King Edward III in defeating the Scots, before being forcibly resettled in Northumberland to garrison Warkworth.  Sadly the wash-out meant that we lost our day on Horncliffe, although I did go down to renew my acquaintance with Gary Hillary, previusly head ghillie at Bywell, and to walk the water.

On the Saturday I fished Pedwell once more, on the Island and the Castle Stream below the bridge, yet again in a stiff wind.  The water was still too high to help the pools, and unfortunately, at about 1000 it started to rise again and show more colour.  Even with boatman Peter Lee's effervescent enthusiasm, we knew we were on a lost cause and finished in time for an early tea.

So it was another disappointment, coming hot on the heels of the Orkla, and following several last year.  Hopefully the cycle will break at some point.  Nevertheless, while disappointed I wasn't downhearted.  We enjoyed a tremendous fun week in great company and I had the pleasure of exploring new water.  The party all agreed that the formula was a great success in everything but fish, so we're going back next year, but with more slots on Pedwell and Horncliffe added.

Understandably I don't have many original learning points to offer from the truncated week.  Both are drawn from the adverse conditions:

  • A strong wind from any direction will always trigger us into trying harder.  We have to guard against this by consciously taking it easy and sustaining a strong high stop.  Don't fight the wind, work out how to use its effects to our advantage, and always remember that it's the stop that makes it go, not extra effort. 
  • On the Saturday afternoon the height of the water and the difficult wading kept me very close to the right bank on the Castle Stream.  The 20-25 mph wind was downstream and about 45 degrees into my face.  The options were either a right handed Snake Roll or Double Spey.  Given the strength of the wind, the Double Spey with its waterborne anchor was the safest and most reliable choice.  In addition, the very limited D-loop space forced me to compromise on distance and angle by placing the anchor further out and making the cast more of a roll than a Spey.  With less than 6' of space behind me I was quite happy to use the wind to reach the flow line at 45-60 degrees, rather than fighting the combined foes of bankside grass and wind with a big square cast.  Generally most fish are caught on your side of the river, so don't fret about distance.

 

Tackle & Techniques

Vision Hero 14' 7" #8/9

 

I used the big Hero exclusively on both the Orkla and the Tweed. Originally I took this rod to the Spey in 2022 as a demonstrator and liked it so much that I bought it.  It also did sterling service on the Tay in 2023.  On the Orkla it was in its element with sinking heads, hefty tips and big flies.  It made the whole exercise so easy, reliably exploiting three good loops of running line to reach the target.  On the Orkla I used the 650 grain Gamechanger I/S2/S3 with a 15' S3 or S6 tip (more below) or a 10' heavy MOW; and on the Tweed either a floating 37g Scandi with an S3 or S6 tip, or the 38g Guideline 3D I/2/3.

The action and hand feel are delightful: you know everything that's going on, yet it has the muscle to cope easily with sinking heads, in both extraction and back-cast (the acid tests) and delivery.  Despite being only 5" shorter than 15 footers, it just feels lighter in the hand and more wieldy.  It's easy: even at my advanced age I was able to fish this rod for an hour without feeling tired or stiff.

For an entry level rod it's remarkable, and it has the best value-engineered reel seat in the business.

 

Rio GameChanger Sinking Head


The prevalent advice was to get something for the Orkla that would cut down through fast water more reliably than the Guideline 3D that I've had for 10 years and more.  With the discontinuation of the sinking Rio Scandi heads, I bought the new GameChanger I/S2/S3 for the 2024 trip but only had the chance to use it this year.

 At heart it's a Skagit, just 23' long, but you have tremendous flexibility through your choice of tips, because the entire Rio family achieve balance at all lengths.  With a 15' InTouch it's the same length as a Scandi but with greater weight shifting capacity endowed by the head's profile.  And with a fast sinking 10' 3D MOW it's a pure Skagit, ready to shift anything.

 

I found its longer range casting performance to be far better than I anticipated (based on experience with earlier Skagit profiles), delivering reliable turnover of 15 foot tips and weighted tubes.  And it doesn't arrive with the unseemly crash that was characteristic of its predecessors.  Only in the slowest water did I have to roll the tip onto the surface, otherwise there was enough weight in the back of the head to power reliable extraction with a Snap T.  Double Spey was a doddle.  It's versatile and the wide range of tip choices gives you plenty of flexibility for adapting quickly to the conditions. The GameChanger matched the requirements posed by the Upper Orkla exactly, and it's become a fixture in my armoury. 

Rio Powerflex Ultra Shooting Line


I needed a new running line of appropriate breaking strain for Norway (i.e. >30 lbs).  As my old favourite coated line with the orange gripping section is no longer made (why not Rio?), I selected the Powerflex Ultra and on arrival, carefully eased and straightened it on the lawn before winding onto the Control #9/13.  My version is electric blue and slicker than a greased weasel.

I should have taken a hint from the colour.  The last time I had a blue Rio running line it proved to be a tangling horror on the Dee a decade or more ago.  This was worse.  Within 2 hours of starting on the Orkla I was reduced to swearing at Rio owing to the frequent tangles in the first or second ring.

 

Wading in moderately quick water my carefully measured loops (3, 4, 5 draws), first twisted themselves, and then irresistibly, with each other.  About 85% of the time they sorted themselves out on release, but the balance of 15% (or 1 in 6) is about 6 times too high for my liking.  In quiet water there wasn't a problem, and you can shoot an awful lot of Powerflex (by my standards at least).  It floated well and was clearly visible.  The next issue emerged over a day or so on both the Orkla and the Tweed while retrieving to re-cast: it eats flesh.  It cut through the top joint seam of the middle fingers of both hands, causing discomfort and bleeding that required attention with electrical tape.  No doubt some tyro in Idaho can do great things with this line, but mine's going in the bin, as in all conscience I just can't inflict it on anyone else.

I continue to believe that slickness in a running line is an overrated quality, and have a strong preference for tangle-free reliability and easy handling, even if it does cost me a few yards.  For that reason I always buy one level higher breaking strain for its greater diameter and reliability.  Of course, in Norway you need a strong running line: with a 30lbs abrasion resisting leader you don't want to be losing an entire head.  Breaking a 30lbs leader requires a Herculean effort: get your rod out of the way; tie a clove hitch of running line around your wading stick, apply your thumb to stop it slipping and use both hands; then dig your heels in and sharply apply your full weight in a shock pull.  And that still didn't break it; my fly came free. 

 

Looking Ahead

Yorkshire is still locked in drought with a hosepipe ban in force.  The struggle to preserve my garden is becoming intense.  We are hoping for a break in the weather next week, but as that's driven by thunderstorms there is a likelihood that they could miss us completely.  Wherever they may go we desperatley need rain in all out rivers, and especially those in the Ouse system (Swale, Ure, Nidd, Wharfe, Aire and Calder) to clear the oxygen block at the head of the tide between Selby and Goole.  Without that no salmon can run.  I don't wish to upset my farming friends, but for many reasons the state of our rivers is a matter of the deepest concern, so please let's have some proper rain.

We'll need a lot of it over a period of 2-3 weeks to get salmon well up the Ure.  In any event August is devoted to grandparent duties (all 6 in relays with overlaps) so taking a day off to fish Thoresby is a most unlikely prospect.  However, there is more fishing ahead in early September, when the amazingly kind TTMN has invited me to join him for a week on the Helmsdale, a river that I absolutely adore at a time of year when snow is unlikely to be on the agenda. I am fortunate indeed.

If you manage to get out, tight lines and have a wonderful time.

Helmsdale Sunset