fishydreams

If a person had even half a brain, they would not have given a second’s consideration to walking from Reinosa to Fontibre yesterday afternoon. The rain did not let up for even a moment, and that would have come as no surprise to any of those half-brained people who had kept an eye on the weather. So yesterday afternoon — as you will not be surprised to hear — I decided to leave Reinosa and walk to the source of the River Ebro at Fontibre.

If you walk as the crow flies, this is a modest distance of around four kilometres — but there were no crows flying yesterday. At every opportunity, I followed any track that could lead me to the river itself, and in the modest village of Salces I crossed the river and climbed the hills on the opposite side. These hills separate the drainages of the nascent Ebro and the Río Hijár, and both of these rivers will unite just downstream of Reinosa.

The Hijár and the Ebro ultimately emerge from the same source and part company before reuniting. The Hijár, though far less famous, can really be considered the true source of the Ebro. I have written about this in the past and, if you are interested, you may like to look at something I posted earlier called “Where does the River Ebro begin?”, which can hopefully be found via this link.

What is certainly true is that the Ebro, at its official source at Fontibre, appears from several cracks in the rocks, and it is hard not to think of this place as the beginning of a river — and to ignore the hidden flows upstream.

The snow was melting yesterday, and the meltwater — along with the sediment it swept from the surrounding fields — coloured the river to such an extent that later in the day, when Catriona and I went to the stretch we like to spot trout from in the centre of town, the river carried too much colour for us to see even the stones on the bottom of the shallow water.

Why spend hours walking in the rain? Leaving aside any consideration of brain size (you probably have your mind made up about this), I was keen to test out a new pair of hiking boots. My old boots have been worn out and now leak like sieves. I blame my dog for wearing them out during our walks and hikes — although, technically, I accept they were on my feet, rather than being worn by the dog.

Beyond stress-testing wet weather gear, I was keen to observe the river a little more. I have now got a much better idea of which parts of the river I can access when I get to fish this stretch again. Much of the river is crowded out by trees (and this is where many of the big browns hide away), but there are accessible glides and riffles where at least one bank can be reached. I think I know enough now to leapfrog the stretches where I would struggle to access fishable water.

When the season opens, and if I manage to get a day permit to fish this beautiful stretch of river, I will have a much better idea of where to go.

Rain or no rain, that walk not only was helpful in piecing together this stretch of the upper Ebro, but it turned out to be a very fine way to pass an afternoon!