Late June in Norway

On the way up the weather was threatening and we met some rain as we drove north. When we passed the border into Norway the sky had turned gray but it was still reasonably warm so the hopes for a pleasant walk to the first camp were still high. That changed while we waited for the boat ride to take us across the lake, the wind picked up and the temperature dropped 10 degrees in just 20 minutes. We had a white-knuckle ride going across the chop blowing in from the northwest. Fortunately we could rent a cabin for the first night and could avoid setting up the tents in pouring rain. We spent the evening looking out the window at a raging lake and rain coming horizontally across the whitecaps.

The next morning the weather had improved and we strapped on the backpacks and walked up the mountain towards our first camp. The first camp was by a lake that holds some good arctic char, but the biggest one we managed to catch was around 12 inches. There was not much of a hatch on and the bigger char only showed occasionally. In the morning we broke camp early and walked down to the river where we planned to stay for the rest of the trip. By now the weather had changed totally and the sun was hammering down from a clear blue sky. I had naturally forgotten the sun block and managed to burn my neck and hands in the few hours it took us to get to the new camp. A late spring had suddenly turned into high summer and we came unprepared.

Our first day by the River we had dropping water levels and reasonable hatches. The first order of the day was, nevertheless to get a good camp set up. Our tents overlooked a long slow curve in the river and we had a good pool just 50 feet downstream. We had hauled 70lb packs in over sometimes rough terrain and even though no one complained, it makes you sort of appreciate a good camp where you will stay for a few days. After we got everything organized that day and had lunch, we got the gear together and sat down at the head of the pool, looked for rising fish and smoked cigars. There were some rises and we had a smattering of Olives and Sepia Duns coming downstream, That first day promised great fishing and we saw a few good size fish take spinners in the late evening. There is a certain joy to sit up late when the sun just dips below the horizon before it comes up again, where dusk and dawn merges into one long sunrise.

We had great expectations for the upcoming week of fishing. But with the warming weather came heavy snow melt which brought higher water and sinking water temperature. The next morning we talked to the Norwegians that had their tent a bit upstream, they had hit the whisky a bit hard yesterday and needed a sleep-in to recuperate. They've been up here every summer for more than twenty years now and all agreed that this was among the highest water they had seen.

The rest of the trip was reflected in the high water and the really big trout were hard to get in touch with, the hatches were sparse and the weather too good for the Olives or the Sepia Duns to get going. We fished persistently with varying success. The smaller trout were everywhere but the big ones just didn't show. Janne did best catching a couple of really nice fish, both in the small lakes and in the river, while my best chance was a short contact with a really heavy trout in one of the favorite pools.
Meanwhile the weather remained beautiful, we drank water straight from the melting snowdrifts on the slopes, ate well and has long discussions about fishing, trout and everything else important.

Nothing can be as peaceful as a place where the cell phones don’t work, with black coffee, good conversation and good company. Even the smallest of trout can make a rise that fills our souls with joy and the dark blue sky in the evening is endless over our heads.
The scent of wood fire, coffee and cigars is wonderful.