The Twig

There seems to be a fascination with big fish. Across the globe, it’s a goal of many to seek out the largest of a said species on a regular basis. I’m not going to lie, this desire is embedded within me too, often yearning to go one better or achieve a personal best. At the other end of the spectrum, however, is the long-forgotten little ones. In Tasmania, for example, there is an abundance of miniature brown trout that thrive in minuscule environments and the smallest of micro-climates. A place where your Average Joe would typically drive past or even step across without giving it a thought. A place where casts are often measured in inches, not feet. Sometimes casts are not even measured at all, relying just on the perfect amount of tippet out the end of your rod to allow for a bow-and-arrow cast. I re-visited such a water the other day with my favourite two-weight, Sage TXL. It was literally crystal clear, gently tumbling down a stone bed and holding a good population of small brown trout, with the most gorgeous markings. Mini-mayflies were doing their thing while a pink robin kept a close eye on me, fluttering from tree to tree. I even witnessed a giant Tasmanian stonefly narrowly escape the jaws of a mini-trutta. I love this stuff and every ultra-lightweight ‘twig’ session takes me back to my childhood – throwing unweighted insects to tiny trout or galaxiids in the smallest of water and being utterly content in my element, in their element. It is, you could say, elementary.



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