Paul Reddish and I took a trip along the Pisuerga River yesterday, meeting the river in Aguilar de Campoo and following it upstream towards its source in the Cantabrian Mountains. The road can only take you so far — we pretty much ran out of tarmac in the little village of Santa María de Redondo, home to dogs that sleep in the street and begrudgingly allow you to drive on. There’s an ample car park for those who want to hike further, but it was a little late in the day for us to do that. That hike follows the course of the river initially before separating, but it eventually leads to the river’s source, said to be a spring called Fuente Cobre.
Continue readingCategory: Natural history
I don’t know which one of us is more stupid — me or our dog, Sable. The two of us have taken to wandering the local tracks of the campo and trekking across open fields in the moonlight, when anybody with half a brain would be tucked up in bed.
Continue readingWe have just come back from a hike up the tops of some of the peaks that we had seen when previously walking the caminito del Rey, Andalucia´s famous cliff edge walking path. There were three of us, my daughter Pippa, myself and Sable the black labrador that, you may recall, had disgraced herself during her audition as my fishing companion. Today, to her credit, she did not put a foot wrong and was excellent company throughout. She is knackered now though, and is fast asleep at my feet.
Continue readingHere in Cantabria there are some areas where trout fishing is available to anyone with a licence, provided they follow the appropriate rules. Around our base here, the town of Reinosa, this is true of much of the Río Ebro, particularly the catch and release section between the town and the reservoir. There are other regions, however, where fishing is restricted and numbers limited and where a special permit is needed (and this applies to hunting too) and such regions are called cotos. I had never fished anything other than public water here before Friday but I did manage to acquire a permit to fish one of four cotos within walking distance. As a member of the Reinosa fishing club I bought it for the discounted price of 5 euros and 20 cents. This coto that I could access was the Coto de Fontibre and covers the stretch of the Ebro between Reinosa and the source of the river Ebro at Fontibre.
Continue readingI have spent a few hours recently stalking barbel and carp at the point where the river Ebro flows into the Embalse del Ebro. This is a beautiful place and I have been fortunate enough to have it all to myself.
Continue readingI was a little surprised when fishing the upper river Ebro at how abundant the barbel were. This area I had imagined would be home primarily to trout. The river source is not far away and the water is cold, just the way trout like it. But the barbel are here in good numbers and it is lovely just to watch these fish in the clear river water. Armed with a fly rod, however much fun they were to observe, I could not resist having a crack at catching one. As a result I have been fortunate enough to look at these fish from up close and they are absolutely stunning.
Continue readingAt the river inlet into the Embalse del Ebro reservoir the Ebro splits into two channels, each heavily weeded up in places but the clear water pushes through the weed growth, often in clear seams revealing the stony substrate beneath. Both flows converge before the water flows into a narrow tongue which extends to the west from the main body of the reservoir. From above it looks as though the embalse had extended an arm to greet the inflowing river that sustains it.
Continue readingOnly an idiot would go fishing on a Monday or, for that matter, on a Thursday. Where I am in Cantabria, if the guardia civil caught you in the act of trying to catch a trout in the local section of the Ebro on either of those days they would land you with a fine that would make your head spin.
Continue readingIt´s a few weeks now since I started noticing the new generation of toads put in an appearance as the dogs and I walked the quite roads and tracks of the campo in the early morning. They were tiny – about the size of the nail of my little finger and, if they were inclined to stay still, they could be tricky to spot.
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