Fly Fishing in Germany, Part 8 (The Nidda River and Fishing Clubs)

Well, it's finally over.  Yesterday, after traveling 2 hours by train, I assembled my four-piece five weight rod (made, if I may brag, by my day and repaired after being broken in New Zealand), attached my reel, tied on an Adams and, well, missed three strikes before finally landing my first German trout.

But before I get into my experience on the Nidda River in Hessen, Germany, let me tell you what I've learned about fishing clubs (Angel- or Fischenverein) in Germany.  Stefan, the head of the club in charge of the Nidda (and a few other fisheries) was an amazing help.  I called him on Friday of last week and asked exactly how I could go about getting an certificate of permission (Erlaubnis) to fish the Nidda.  From what it appears, that's the way to go about it.  Well in advance of your trip to a specific river, call the club and set up a time that day (or a day at your convenience) when you can purchase the Erlaubnis.  [Make sure to have your German license with you.]  He met me at the train station and kindly drove me and my bike 6 kilometers out of the city, right in the center of the 16 km they manage.

During the ride, I was able to ask him several questions, and out of his answers I learned that the best thing to do is join a club.  Here's why: if I want to fish a river here, I need an Erlaubnis, and in the western states that can be expensive.  It cost me 20 EU to fish the Nidda for the day.  [Now, I also noticed that trout fisheries in Thueringen are considerably cheaper, between 8 and 15 EU per day.]  If I were a regular in that area, and foresaw myself fishing the river regularly, a yearly membership is 60 EU.  Simple math says I start benefiting from membership on the Nidda after my third day fishing.  So, look into joining the club that manages the river/s you would like to fish often.

With that said, I don't plan on joining the Nidda fishing club, and I probably won't return to fish the river.  While Stefan was amazing, the river was underwhelming.  I didn't expect a large river, so it's meager size didn't exactly surprise me.  But, the discrepancy in the size of the fish I was seeing and catching compared to the photos they posted on their site was considerable.  The impression the site gave me was that the water offered enough opportunity for a population of fish of varied size and age.  That didn't play out in reality.  The average trout was about 7 or 8 inches, and I came across one pool directly after a bridge that held trout around the 12-15 inch range.

In this situation, size didn't matter.  I finally caught a German trout, and the picturesque traditional house and farms, the mustard fields along the river, and even the burny-itchy weeds (you know, the ones that burn your legs when the touch and then itch like crazy for the next two hours) were enjoyable.

Once I strapped on all my gear and walked a piece of the river, I fished up to the confluence of two brooks.  There were three fish rising, and all of them small, and all of them made a move on my Adams.  I came up empty each time.  I might have been pulling the fly out of their mouths, but I also noted how fast they went silent.  The hole was well fished, and even if they were small trout, they were smart ones. 

Note to me: bring back floatant.  I could have dry-flied the whole afternoon, but it just became frustrating trying to keep my flies on top of the water, and I forgot floatant back in the State and didn't think to find a substitute here.  My bad.  So, I worked with wooly buggers down the river, and in between two farm towns I hooked into my first and second.  Both relatively the same size.  The river was really not a river.  It was more like a Colorado brook...real clear and real cold. 

And so the rest of the day was spent getting burnt, singing songs out loud, thanking the Lord for a cool life, and dragging my bike down the shore of the river.

Stefan remarked, as he left me by the riverside, "You're the first who's come by train and bike."  Well, I might be starting something new in Germany.... the non-auto fly fisher.  The only problem is that I have to find rivers relatively near train stops.  Hey, I'm up for a little adventure.