On Topic: Fly fishing the Nera in Italy

ROFFistanians,

Sorry to interrupt all the political and scatological content, but
I just got back from our trip across the pond and thought I'd share.
I'll post more photos of the trip in general once I have time to go
through them all, but here's a bit about the day I spent fly fishing
on the Nera River in Umbria.

We were in Hungary and Italy for two weeks, and Carol encouraged me
to take a day to go fishing while we were there. As it turned out,
Carol's contact in Cortona (who we rented a house from) has a friend
whose brother (Luca) is a fly fisher, and he was more than willing to
take me out for a day on the water.

I had researched the Nera a bit before the trip, and identified an
area that looked like my kind of fishing. As it turned out, Luca took
me to the exact area I had been researching, a beautiful stretch where
the river is narrow, crystal clear and densely overgrown, and the
fishing is mostly dry fly, and all catch and release.

We got an early start, and after stopping at a "bar" for coffee and
some sandwiches to throw in our vest for lunch (nothing much, just
prosciutto and aged provolone on freshly-baked focaccia), we went to
the Lengambiente (environmental protection agency) "office" to buy my
daily license. (This stretch of river requires that you check in
before fishing, as it limits rods in that stretch to 10/
day.)

With that done, Luca, his friend Luigi and I hit the water. It was
almost like being back in the Smokies. The stream was about 30' wide
at its largest, completely overgrown with various deciduous trees, and
it runs fast and cold. (Pics of the Nera: http://uweb.txstate.edu/~cv01/nera01.jpg
and http://uweb.txstate.edu/~cv01/nera02.jpg)

We all took off in different directions to get some room to cast
and explore, and I was totally enchanted by the place. The mountains
(foothills, actually) are beautiful (http://uweb.txstate.edu/~cv01/
nerahills.jpg), and I was so distracted by my surroundings that it
took me a while to even start to concentrate on fishing. When I did,
it was a bit frustrating at first, as I had been advised to use a 15'
leader, and with a stream that was not much wider than that, and no
room for a proper backcast, I was struggling with placing the fly.

Eventually I got back into it, and even managed a strike from a
small fish which I promptly missed. I continued exploring and after a
couple of hours, I came upon Luca's friend Luigi fishing an open area
with a minor hatch going on and rising fish. (A shot of Luigi at the
spot: http://uweb.txstate.edu/~cv01/luigi.jpg) I watched while he
caught several nicely colored "trota fario" (brown trout). They were
all in the 8-12" range, which evidently is common for that area, with
a few fish going upwards of 20".

I sat down on the bank to watch and eat my lunch and marvel at the
beauty of the place. (I was likely grinning ear-to-ear, and I
remember thinking "this is the life".) After a little while, Luigi
invited me to come and fish the spot, and even gave me a fly that was
a perfect match to the insects that were hatching. I don't know what
it is called, but it had a quill body, dark brown hackle and dark dun
tail and wings. I used that fly the rest of the day until the quill
was unwrapped, the tail was gone, and the hackle and wings are just
barely hanging in there. (In fact, I put it away at the end of the
day as a souvenir.)

In the next hour or so as we moved up stream, I caught a half dozen
fish, and had that many more strikes, while Luigi was catching 2 for
every one I caught. Towards the end of the day, we rounded a bend and
came upon a classic undercut rock ledge and pool, but this one had a
special Italian twist: Up on the hill above was what appeared to be
the remnants of an aqueduct (http://uweb.txstate.edu/~cv01/
nerapool.jpg). We fished that stretch for a while to finish out the
day, and were rewarded by more beautifully colored trota.

My hosts were very gracious, as they continually offered me the
best spots to cast to, and seemed just as happy when I was catching
fish as when they were. Luca spoke a bit of English, Luigi almost
none, and my attempts at Italian were spotty at best, but as cliched
as it sounds, we were proof that fly fishing transcends language and
cultural barriers. I felt like I had made two new and truly good
friends.

The river is as pretty as any I have seen, and I hope to be able to
return. In fact, when we got back to the house in the evening, I told
Carol that maybe we should consider retiring in Italy. :-)


Chuck Vance