After an enforced lay-off of about 8 weeks, I finally made it back onto the Eden. It wasn't planned that way though, my intentions had been to visit the remote Pennine moors to fish Cow Green Reservoir. However, as I drove northwards through Upper Teesdale, it became apparent that the weather was going to play a part - a heavy drizzle was being blown at increasing speed across the road in front of me.
Sure enough, when I crested Widdybank Fell and pulled into the visitor's car park, I was greeted by a huge grey ghost of an inland sea, with white horse crested waves being driven forcefully onto the shore below. This immense sheet of water melted away into the blanket hill fog before me, creating a seemingly impenetrable bank of intimidating whiteness. When I got out of the car to take a closer look, the wind lashed stinging rain into my eyes and slammed the car door shut behind me. I'll be honest - I just didn't fancy it!
Leaving Cow Green behind for a fairer day, I drove onwards through Alston and down toward Langwathby, hoping for more gentle conditions in the valley bottom. I was lucky - the wind was little more than a breeze and the sky was overcast, but unthreatening. I found the Eden at Little Salkeld to be in fine nick, with a few inches of glowing, amber water running through. Setting up a pair of nymphs, I headed off upstream hopeful of sport.
As it turned out, I had a decent - if not spectacular - session. The nymphs brought regular interest from the native brownies and grayling. Mainly small fish, but with a few around the 12" mark and one better trout of well over the pound. I finished with around a dozen fish to my name (and an awful lot of parr!), which I don't think was too bad for the time of year and banished the memory of my previous trip out, when I couldn't have caught a trout if my life had depended on it!