The huge brown trout of Minnivallalaekur
Husabreida on Minni, at the narrows where the fence reaches the bank. Photo from Strengir.
Minnivallalaekur is noted in Iceland for its huge brown trout. There are some breathtaking specimens in the river and the biggest recorded there in recent years was a fish that was actually found dying of old age and thus found itself on the scales, which it tipped to 10 kilos. In other words, it was a 20 pound wild native brown trout. Reflecting on a trip to Minni three years back the editor of this web found himself guessing just how heavy the one that got away had actually been. But I’;ll never know will I?
This took place late in September in 2006. Few fish the river so late in the season. Which is a big mistake. I go there late in the season each year. With few fishing, the trout are not so easily spooked as they get as the season wares on and with the spawning just around the corner, the males in particular, become very aggressive. Often to the extent that they will not allow a burly streamer fly to pass without a violent reaction.
I was there over the space of two days and kept the Husabreida for the twilight on both evenings. It’;s a nice place to end the day, just off the porch of the lodge. Fish hold over the length of it but far down the pool, where the fence reaches the bank, the pool narrows a bit and turns deeper. That is the place I love on Husabreida. To fish it as dusk sets in with a roving streamer often weaves magic.
The former evening I had one of my very best sessions on the pool. Just off and below the fence I hooked and landed three big browns in quick succession, each of them estimated at 5, 6 and 7 pounds respectively. The action was so hectic that I was a bit taken back as things calmed down.
Two of "Minni's" elder statesmen. Photo from Strengir.
But the next evening I was back and ready. I had in fact been dead lazy all day and not even tried other pools. Slept late and gone hiking. At the end of the season, a two hour session on Husabreida would be more than enough for me.
The same streamer from the evening before was attached to the leader. The name I do not know, but it is a greenish yellow fly with a golden cone head. Size 8. This time nothing happened so I tried a local favorite called Heimasaeta and within a few casts a fine brown nailed the fly. It turned out to be a brilliantly colored cock fish, perhaps 4 pounds or so. After releasing it I felt really content. I took a seat on the beat up old wooden bench on the riverbank, took a deep breath and watched as dusk once again settled. I almost dozed in the timeless aura, but was jerked back by the whizzing sound of twenty or so mallards hurtling downstream. That brought me back to Minni and Husabreida. As my eyes rested on the mirror surface, a huge boil of a moving trout appeared right off the fence! A huge fin cut the surface. This was more like something out of Jaws than any trout I had seen.
This was of course too much to put up with. I decided to go for it but first I changed the fly. I choose a very large cone headed Black Ghost with a bright orange sun burst hackle. A fly that had given me a 16 pound sea trout on Tungufljot several days earlier. Big fly- big fish, so they say. I flung the heavy streamer at the huge brown. Nothing happened. Three casts, four casts, ten casts, twenty casts. Nothing. Daylight was on the vane at a rapid rate.
A mounted 16 pounder looks awesome in the twilight of the lodge! Photo by gg.
Then, as I had completed a cast and was stripping the fly back over a more shallow stretch a huge splash almost gave me a heart attack! It was almost as if a full grown human being had fallen into the river. The brown had been following the fly and suddenly decided that it was not going to let it get away. It dashed after it, head, back and tail sticking out and struck it not three meters from the bank! In one rabid run, all my slack line was torn out and three stunning leaps right in front of me ensued. It was anywhere between 15 and 20 pounds. Probably closer to the higher number. Black and brown and close enough for me to see that it was a cock fish.
What happened next took the best part of the next half an hour. It was almost in a daze. I never had any semblance of control over this fish. After the initial violent flurry it went to the bottom and pulled out line nonstop. It went downstream where the river widens over the next 2-300 meters. I was equipped with a weight 6 Sage fly rod and a twelve pound tipped so I was not exactly priced out of this fight. But despite me holding on for dear life, there was nothing I could do. As we were approaching the broken water just above the hatchery station, my vivid memory is of this huge brown trout is of it cutting across the flow, showing me its full flanks, upper part of its body above the surface film. Despite the oncoming twilight, the view was great as the final light of day lit up the mirrored surface of the river.
At that point, the hook pulled free and I was left with nothing. Nothing? Well only if you can call this everlasting memory nothing!
