Skip to main content

Cheesy Trout!

A number of years ago while fishing in the North West Highlands My friend Scott and I stopped off at a bothy for the last night of our weekend fishing expedition. There were two English lads staying there also and they too were fishing the nearby rivers and lochs.  

We arrived about 9 pm, got talking flies and tactics and told them of our exploits with the trout on the nearby lochs then set about cooking our well-earned dinner. They appeared to be very decent and knowledgeable blokes. We offered them some food for Scott as ever had made generous helpings of his special macaroni cheese. They said they would love to but they were keener to get out fishing and that they'd get a bite to eat on their return.  So off they went chasing troots into the night. A little later, two Munro baggers arrived, very tired and foot sore. They weren't that chatty - too tired really, and one just sat down whilst the older one made dinner. Afterwards, the younger one was moaning about the blisters on his feet and his mate suggested soaking them in hot water and germoline. They got this mixture going in their pan but then found it too small to put their feet in. Looking around, they saw an old frying pan hanging by the fire and poured the liquid into that and took turns soaking their feet. A short time later, they announced they were turning in for the night. They gave the pan a quick rinse and put it back.

Scott and I just hung around after dinner lit the fire, shared a bottle of fine malt and enjoyed the afterglow of fantastic day fishing among magnificent Highland scenery. It was about 1 am when the hungry English fishermen arrived back at the bothy. They had a very successful night on the loch and had caught countless amounts of hard fighting wild brown trout and had kept a couple for their supper.

Scott and I gave wry smiles to each other as we watched the lads gut their trout then
happily cook their freshly caught trout in the frying pan on the open fire. Faced with the snap decision of whether to say something or keep quiet, I kept quiet! They kindly offered Scott and I some fish but we declined on the premise of being full of pasta. I’m not sure whose meal tasted the most cheesy!


Popular posts from this blog

The Clan Chief

I have been at the tying bench tonight tying up a few Clan Chiefs. This fly is a favourite of mine. It is a modern day traditional fly created by an Orcadian man,John Kennedy. it was originally designed by him for migratory fish. It also has a good reputation on the mainland for brown trout. Its creator was clearly inspired by the Kingsmill - Moore bumble patterns. This version I have tied tonight is a little bit over dressed as it was originally intended to be tied sparsely. I will let the trout decide.

Hillend Loch

Hillend Loch is a 350-acre loch lying halfway between Airdrie and Armadale. It was constructed in 1799 to supplement the Forth and Clyde canal system. The average depth of the loch is 8 feet, but the depth does drop to around 14 feet in the narrows between the Whitehill wood and the Braco wood. Feeding is rich in the loch and apart from the shoals of fry which abound here the underwater fodder includes snails, shrimps, nymphs of varying species, corixae and caddis. Above the surface the angling season will see hatches of hawthorn flies, chironomids, buzzers, daddies and sedges. There is plenty of space to fish around the loch no matter whether your preference is to wade and explore the little bays and weed beds along the shoreline or take a boat and float along some of the favoured drifts. The loch fishes well all over its expanse though I would recommend the bank angling at the following areas, The big moss, the wee moss, the braco burn area, the boathouse bay, the point of the woods,

Loch Ericht

After visiting wintery Hillend today it reminded me of a fishing trip to Loch Ericht early last year. Here is an account of the trip I wrote once I had thawed out. My first serious fishing trip of the season got underway at 4am last Sunday morning. Our destination was to be the north end of Loch Ericht near Dalwhinnie. We wanted to be there for first light so hence the very early rise and journey up the A9. The trip up was uneventful until we got to the roadworks at Balinluig as by the time we reached there the countryside had taken on a rather winery feel as the hills and fields had a light dusting of snow. Onward we drove but as we got further north the weather was really starting to get serious. The snow was falling and it was lying really deep, the road ahead just got treacherous and at times very dangerous. By the time we reached the Drummochter pass we were right in the middle of a blizzard. It got to the stage where we couldn’t see four feet in front of us and it was becoming