Kelly’s Lough Co. Wicklow

thumbWe set off one warm afternoon in August from County Kildare and drove for an hour or so before we arrived at Glenmalure in County Wicklow on Ireland’s east coast. We parked the car by the Avonbeg River, got the gear out and made sure we had everything; fishing gear, tents, food and of course, a bottle of wine or two. We trekked up the zigzag path by Carrawaystick Brook, which is a hell of a climb, especially with 50lbs of backpack.

There was a hint of a southwesterly blowing and it looked as if the weather was going to hold out for the night. The forecast said it was going to be fine, but in the Wicklow Mountains the weather changes minute by minute so we were prepared for rain too.

We’d brought only a minimal amount of fishing gear; rod, reel and a small box of dry flies, wet flies and nymphs, and as we’d heard that the fish were only quite small here, we didn’t think a net was necessary.

Now, as I mentioned, the climb up the zigzag path, which is actually called just that, is tough going and as we’d been here before, we knew what to expect and had hiking boots that supported the ankles as it’s very rocky and injuries could easily happen. Kelly's Lough1 There’s an immediate elevation of about 300 metres and then it levels out and begins to follow the stream through the glen for the next mile and a half. This stretch to Kelly’s is pretty flat but it’s very easy to lose the path in the tussocks and it’s more of a stumble than a walk as the long grasses hide a lot of dips and rises. Also, at this time of year there are a lot of flies in the grass and the air so take repellent as they can be a pain.

The last bit up to the lough itself becomes steep again; here, you cross the stream and there’s a forest track to follow up for about 200 metres to a fence that can be crossed easily by a stile.

We walked over the last summit and here the lake sat, serenely, calmly and very blue, reflecting the summer skies. Around half of the lake, there are cliffs straight down to the waters edge and these only allow the angler to fish a small part, but the rest of the lake is all fishable from the grassy banks; very shallow at the northern shore but deepens towards the south. There was very little wind and we decided to pitch the tents behind some boulders, on a little grassy patch about halfway down the northernmost shore where we’d be out of the wind if it happened to pick up in the night. We were only about 3 metres or so away from the waters edge and could see that the water was crystal clear.Last Light1 Little flecks of gold in the mud on the bed of the lake sparkled in the afternoon sun. After setting up camp and having a bite to eat, we fished into the evening, using floating lines  and dry flies at first and after no results I changed to some tiny caddis nymphs, one on the point which was weighted and a smaller one further up in the water on a dropper. On the first cast, I had a bite, but unfortunately missed this fish, but this was all we needed to excite us into fishing until dark. The sun was setting over the mountains, creating fantastic orange skies streaked with red and it was still pretty warm although  cooling slowly.

Once more I must stress how important insect repellent is, as there are thousands of flies and biting things around in the grass.

We had a small fire going which kept some of the flies away when we settled down to open a bottle of wine, and we talked rubbish until the early hours.

Sleeping here is so cool and restful, but the occasional stag calling to their mates in the night on the surrounding hills woke me with a start and after figuring out what they were I soon nodded off again. If you’ve never heard them before, it can be a bit unnerving. We woke to a magnificent sunrise, the sky was blood red and it was a bit chilly with early morning dew on the grass.Sunset1

After a cooked breakfast of sausages, beans and eggs, we fished on for a few hours and, using a weighted caddis, again on the point,  and a Greenwell’s Glory on the dropper, landed six perfect little brown trout from Kelly’s Lough. All of them took the Greenwell’s. Four fish, about a quarter of a pound in weight, and a couple of smaller ones too were absolutely perfect with golden flanks, bright red spots and large yellow fins.

You can catch huge rainbows in lakes nearby, and salmon run up the local rivers. These little wild browns weren’t the best fighting fish or, by far, the biggest, but this sort of wild fishing brings me more joy than any other. We packed up the gear and said farewell to the lough and some of the resident deer and headed home. The trek back to the car is easy, as it’s all downhill but you still have to watch your step going down the zigzag.

Being out overnight, drinking wine under the stars, waking up to the spectacular sunrise and seeing these beautiful little fish in this location certainly takes a lot of beating and is hard to forget, but if I do, I’ll go back and I’ll do it again.

Paul Kay is a keen photographer, travel writer, sailor, diver and rock climber. Most importantly of all  Paul fishes  for Salmon and Trout in Scotland, England and Ireland where he lives with his wife Alison and their son Charlie.