Fly fishing at La Serpentine & Val d'Allos
A fisherman retires from the water’s edge, collects his equipment and begins walking back to his car. On the way, he crosses a farmer who, seeing the rod, net, sling, rucksack and various other accessories smiles at the man facing him.
“You know there are no fish in that river?” The fisherman responds; “Why did you have to tell me that!? You’ve just ruined a great day’s fishing”
A fisherman retires from the water’s edge, collects his equipment and begins walking back to his car. On the way, he crosses a farmer who, seeing the rod, net, sling, rucksack and various other accessories smiles at the man facing him.
“You know there are no fish in that river?” The fisherman responds; “Why did you have to tell me that!? You’ve just ruined a great day’s fishing”
To fish is to play nature’s algorithm. Algorithm is the modern-day internet buzz word. Google, Facebook, every trading company on the stock market has their own world-beating secret super computer trick. If you don’t have an algorithm, you can’t demand the big bucks.
Nature's algorithm came first, and it's still the one fly fishermen (and us cyclists) love to play the most. No river, no lake, no fish, no fly behaves the same way on any given day. Things change with every cubic metre that flows every second down the river bed, every single day. And that is the point.
To fish is to be in nature, to stay in nature and to try to understand nature. Whether we can fully comprehend all the variables is a rhetorical question and one that keeps outdoor lovers coming back for more. To fish is to rise early and be there before the sun lights up the river.
Up in the mountains, across the departmental line from the Alpes-Maritimes and into the Alpes-de-Haute-Provence there is a river that flows from a glacier lake into an amphitheater that is a slice of nature's finest offering. A waterway that twists almost as much as the Col de Turini, hiding in the mountains somewhere around 2,000m and surrounded by peaks that extend much, much higher. It is known as La Serpentine, and it rests just below Lac d'Allos, one of France’s most spectacular natural lakes.
To fish is to read the river and the environment around you. Where is the sun, is there a blanket of valley floor fog, what is the water temperature, what is the stream flow rate? Where are you on the river; the small pocket flow in the beginning or the traditional runs, riffles, rapids and holes where the river plunges down the mountain side? Are there boulders providing shelter and feeding opportunities for fish in the fast flowing water?
Riding the environment is also reading the environment and it is a familiar experience. From the Allos valley up the side road, through the forest and past the tree line to the car park at the trail head that leads us to the river. The climb reminds us that dead-end side roads are usually steeper than the cols that connect the valleys.
The rewards are worth the pre-dawn effort. It is pure pleasure to read the environment at La Serpentine. Look up to the towering peaks of Mont Pelat, look down at the dying flowers that have turned from bright purple to ochre brown to indicate the end of both the fishing and competitive cycling season. But look mostly at the magical gradient of colours and textures from the autumn valley floor to the brilliant yellow and blue sunrise lit sky and thank yourself for that 5am rise.
To fish is to think like the fish. It is the art of imitation. For a fly fisherman that starts with the fly. You might think the type of fly is the only variation but you would be wrong. For a start we must consider at what stage in the fly's life the desired fish are interested. The nymph, the emerger, the adult. Or the streamer, the bait, the grasshopper. We're told some fishermen can get caught in a fly-tying obsession so badly that they forget to actually go fishing....
At La Serpentine the experienced fisherman (maybe not the cyclist) would recognise the overhanging edge and the undercut of the river's flow which provides the perfect hiding place for the trout. It's relatively shallow, relatively slow moving water. Would you take a nymph instead of an adult fly to tempt an aggressive fish out from beneath the banks?
To fish is to perfect your cast. Like fly tying, this is in itself an art form. Search the internet or the never-ending fly fishing guide books and you'll find full dissertations on the methods and the masters of this element of piscary. How will you cast to get a fly pattern that might resemble the real thing? Where will you land the fly? How will you get a good drift towards the hungry prey?
Even amateurs can have fun, with the backlight of the sunrise, making shapes with their lines. The leader and the tippet snake their way through the air like the water cuts through the ground. At La Serpentine the swoosh is the only noise that compliments the sound of the river. Like planning a ride, you cast far or short, fast or flowing and see what it brings.
To fish is to select your equipment. Rod, reel (or no reel), backing line, leader, tippet, hook, fly, fly box, waders, polaroid sunglasses, net, knife...the list is endless. Preparation is key for success at the water’s edge.
For cyclists, Tenkara fly fishing makes a lot of sense. A rod with no reel, a line tied to the end and all foldable into a tube that fits easily on a rear rack or across a handlebar pack. Lightweight and flexible for any opportunity that arises on a gravel ride.
To fish is to explore your region and beyond. River basins of the main waterway, fed by the more minor rivers, each river has its different sections. From the source to the sea, rock pools to rapids through boulders. Rivers are a whole book in themselves.
Which is why gravel riding and fishing go hand in hand. Away from the road and its temptation of speed, the lure of going far, the ever watchful Strava eyes, gravel slows things down. There is an argument to say the slower you go, the more you appreciate your surroundings. And it forces you to look at different parts of the map. From the Lac d’Allos road, further south there is a dotted line leading to the Cascade de la Lance. Once all the fish are aware of our presence at La Serpentine it is time to change it up – a faster river, more pools, a completely different feeling.
To fish is to forget. From one river to the next, from sunrise to sunset, from hiding in the reeds to standing in the pool. Immersing yourself in the activity and its setting. Concentration on the moment to the exclusion of all other things.
Like the focus required to climb an hors catégorie climb at the end of a hard ride or to pick a line between the roots and the rocks on a steep chemin. To keep turning the pedals and understand how to conquer the road ahead.
To fish is an excuse. An excuse to buy equipment. An excuse to spend hours on maps looking for new locations. An excuse to go to the mountains. An excuse to be by yourself.
Does that sound familiar?
If nothing else, to fish is another reason to ride.
09/05
