Running Down a Dream...
It is the first morning on the Laxá í Aðaldal River in Iceland.
My good friend Larry Richards and I are fishing with our American Guide, Vinny McFarlane. We start on a wide, clear, knee-deep pool full of rising brown trout. Five weights, light tippet, and classic dry flies are the order of the day. On my third cast, a gorgeous brown sips my parachute adams and comes to hand.
Larry moves out into deeper water and catches three nice brown trout on less than ten casts. I am amazed not just by the scenery, the cool clean air, the snow-capped mountains in the distance, but also by the amazing volume of rising trout.
“Mike!” our guide exclaims, as we are separated by a bit of distance.
“Yeah Vinny?”
“I am going to stay with Larry. Switch from dries to a streamer you like and go down to that little island and see what you can do.”
“Okay.”
Two casts later…
“Vinny!”
“Vinny!”
“Vinny! I need help.”
“What is it?!?!”
“I don’t know but I am about to be spooled!”
Vinny splashes and stumbles at full speed in my direction as I gain some line. I see a flash of silver and hold my breath.
“Holy Shit Mike! That’s a salmon!”
“Dammit!”
“What?”
“My net is not big enough. I will have to tail it.”
Larry, “Don’t lose him you lucky bastard!”
Time slowed and my senses became more acute. My knees grew weak. I tried to do everything right but was terribly under-gunned with a five-weight and 5x tippet. Vinny moved downstream of the fish without his net. I was sure this was going to end in a lost fish.
I was wrong.
And the happy successful release made it that much better.
It was May the 8th, in the Year of our Lord Jesus Christ 2021. My good friend and fly-fishing mentor, Larry Richards, was pushing seventy years old and was not yet retired. He sent me an email highlighting the fly-fishing opportunities in Iceland. In all our adventures, there was an undertone of necessity. Larry was not getting any younger, but he could see his retirement now and was lining up the adventures that would follow.
Larry is one of the most accomplished outdoorsmen I have ever met. He has hunted literally all over the world. He has been a guide in the Rocky Mountain west. He has been a licensed Professional Hunter on the Dark Continent of Africa. There are very few things he has not done. So, when he started talking to me about adventures that he still had on his “list” I could feel the weight and Iceland was heavy.
We worked slowly and easily toward the Iceland trip. We were not in a hurry to plan, yet it was part of almost every conversation. The discussions were hopeful and cool, the way you would walk in the park with a beautiful woman. We were in a hurry and at the same time, we were not.
Finally, in 2023 we got serious. We contacted the best guides and outfitters in Iceland. They returned our inquiries with cushy package deals for tourists. None of their offerings caused us to bite. We were certain of one thing – the normal package deals were not for us.
Finally frustrated with the continued “encouragement” from the Icelandic outfitters to sign up for one of their “experiences” we sat down over a bourbon and put pencil to paper. Larry’s goal was to catch an Atlantic salmon on the fly, something he has been trying to do for over forty years. After that, a sea-run char was the secondary goal. I was agreeable to all his fishing goals, but insistent on making it “our trip” and having a good time.
We made a plan we were happy with, and we sent it to the person we considered the best outfitter for approval and a price quote. We would fly into the Capitol of Reykjavik and catch a shuttle to Keflavik to catch a domestic flight to Akureyri. From there, we would rent a car and drive to a guest house to fish the Laxá í Aðaldal River in the north. The first day would be guided and the second day we would fish on our own. Then we would drive south all the way across the island to a lodge Larry found near the town of Selfoss. From there we would fish two different rivers, the River Sogið for salmon, and the Holaá for char. On each river the first day would be guided and the second day we would fish on our own. The outfitter agreed and sent us a contract.
We were finally going to Iceland.
In the fall or winter of your life the days pass slowly, but the weeks and months pass quickly. Before we knew it, the Iceland trip was upon us and like a flock of sandhill cranes headed back North after the winter we were on our way North too. After landing in Reykjavik, we caught a shuttle to Keflavik. We took a short stop at the best fly-fishing shop in the Capitol City before boarding our domestic flight. The flight to Akureyri was without incident and before we knew it, we were at the guest house overlooking the Laxá í Aðaldal River.
We toasted our good fortune and enjoyed an excellent dinner before catching some much-needed rest. We met our guide the next morning at breakfast and were off to fish.
Our guide, Vinny, was an American fitness enthusiast who guided trout and salmon expeditions with equal vigor. We drove through the countryside, pulled into a field south of the river and prepared with the same kind of anticipation that children view Christmas. As we approached the river, Vinny asked us to slow down and watch the rising brown trout. We were so anxious to fish, we almost failed to see the spectacle. I’d never seen so many trout rising in a single stretch of river. I am not sure how long we watched in astonishment. Finally, Vinny snapped us back to reality. We were instructed on which fly to tie on, how to present it, and where in the river to start.
As I waded out trying not to spook the rising trout I wondered if I could be quiet enough, stealthy enough, and just lucky enough to get one. A few casts later a big brown came to the net and answered all those questions.
How Vinny tailed that salmon is something I will never comprehend. All I know is that I prayed hard for his skill to make it happen and it did. A hooked fish is one thing. A landed fish is something totally different. A landed fish without a net, even for an experienced guide is something special.
While I was lost in the euphoria of my good luck, Larry caught several nice rising browns. It was not long before Vinny said, “Reel ‘em up,” and we went to a local café for lunch. Vinny knew that the following day we were fishing on our own, so he was resolved that we should leave and check out other areas. We spent the balance of the afternoon fishing other spots on the beat. We drove through ancient lava fields, farmer’s fields, down paved roads, and dirt roads. We hiked and looked at gorgeous water from every angle. Vinny gave us his best advice, and we soaked it in. A few more fish came to hand that afternoon, but the real goal was reconnaissance.
The Icelandic fishing schedule is different than the American schedule. They enjoy a casual breakfast and wander out to the river sometime between nine and ten in the morning. Larry and I are not on the Icelandic schedule. On the second morning, we had our coffee and a meager breakfast early. In the face of a cold sideways drizzle and a strong wind we made ready. We were on the river as soon as the light from the growing day allowed.
We started on the upper pool where the trout were rising the day before. We caught a few but it was a different program in the wind and rain. It was not long before we moved down to the lower sections of the river. The lower sections were broad, deep, and fast. It seemed very much like salmon water. We gave it our best effort, and a few browns came to hand, but we did not even see a salmon. We fished all day without a break and as the light faded, with broad smiles on our faces, we dragged ourselves out of the cold water, proud for having given the Laxá í Aðaldal our best effort.
The next day we were up early and on our way south to fish the River Hólaá. The six-hour drive from the northern part of the island to the southwest coast would give us a chance to “see” the island. The center of the island is very rural, almost absent of people and game. Yet, there are farms where the terrain permits. It is readily apparent that the island was born of volcanoes. It is beautiful, yet rugged. We arrive late in the afternoon to the Alvidra Lodge and are pleasantly surprised that the neighbors are Icelandic horses.
The new lodge is much nicer. We will be fishing the River Hólaá for landlocked char and brown trout and the River Sogið for Atlantic salmon and sea-run arctic char. We will be here for 4 days. We have the place all to ourselves, and are cooking our own meals. So, a trip to the wonderful town of Selfoss for provisions was the last mission of the day. Larry was very happy to be in our new accommodation and thoughts about the possibility of an Atlantic salmon were all we could talk about.
The River Hólaá is the conduit between two lakes. It flows from Lake Laugarvatn to Lake Apavatn. We arrive early and meet our guide, Anton. He is well appointed and well versed in fishing the River Hólaá. We get our waders on and our rods ready but are not prepared for the advice we get on a fly. He asks if we have any size 18 or 20 zebra midges. Larry looks at me and smiles, and I return his gesture with a shrug of my shoulders. No, we do not have the diminutive flies. Well, our guide proceeds to tell us that it is ‘the fly of choice’ and is the only fly we will be using. We are instructed to put an indicator on the stronger part of the leader and then add some five-weight tippet before tying on the tiny silver and black midges he provides.
Our plan to fish each river with a local guide on the first day pays off. The tiny midge is catching char after char with a sprinkle of brown trout mixed into the mess. We are catching so many fish that other guides and anglers are taking their lunch to watch. Larry is the real champion here, catching three char to my one and giggling like he is forty years younger. We would never have thought to fish a tiny silver and black midge under an indicator, but that is why local knowledge wins.
We end the day with more fish that we can count. I believe Larry put just shy of forty in the net. There were no giant fish caught, but it was fish after fish after fish. No other fisherman on the river put more than five in the net. It was an incredible display of “matching the hatch” and it helped us catch more fish than we thought possible.
The next morning in true American fashion, we are up early and gone from our lodging with the rising sun. We enjoyed having the River Hólaá all to ourselves for over three hours before the other fisherman and guides showed up. Larry and I discussed our previous day’s success over a steak and drinks the night before. I put more than two dozen fish in the net and Larry doubled my total. There was a slight difference in our technique and presentation the day before. I made the adjustment and that simple change has us catching “fish for fish” the second morning. By the time the guides, their clients, and a few locals wade out into the river, Larry and I have more than twenty fish landed between us.
Anton, our guide from the previous day, shows up with his clients and gets them started. He then drifts over to Larry to explain that he is an overnight celebrity. It seems that the Icelandic fishing guides have a private forum to discuss where the fish are, what techniques are working, and how to be successful. The question of, “Who was the white-haired American who caught more char than anyone in recent memory?” apparently came up repeatedly. Well, things did not change on the second morning. Guides, clients, and locals were all watching Larry catch more fish than any five anglers on the river. He had an uncanny reflex to see even the slightest movement of the indicator and raise his rod straight up, setting the hook, to bring yet another char to the net.
By lunch, the wind picked up, the fish shut down, and that was just fine because we were almost tired of catching fish. You could not wipe the smiles off our faces as we trudged through the half mile of ankle grabbing bog back to our car. As we drove back to the lodge, we realized it was a good thing the day ended early, because on the morrow we would be throwing bigger rods and bigger flies on bigger water. A chance at an Atlantic salmon or a sea run char on the mighty River Sogið was the next challenge.
We can see the River Sogið out of the lodge’s living room window as it flows deep blue aqua marine into the silver silt of the glacial river Hvíta, before it flows out to sea near the town of Selfoss. Anton is also our guide for the first day on the River Sogið. He picks us up and as we are making the short trip to our beat, he explains that this river is big and dangerous. At one point he slows down his Landcruiser to show us a beautiful deep blue pool just upstream from a bridge. He explains how that spot kills multiple anglers annually and those who fish it for salmon sometimes die by stepping just one step too far into the deep blue water. They are swept first into impossible cold glacial runoff that is the River Hvíta and then out to sea.
A short drive further north brings us to our beat. Here the river widens into what is called Lake Álftavík. Our beat is on the northern end of the lake and is a mixture of deep pools, gravel bars, riffles, and small islands. It is wide and daunting. We make ready and Anton explains the plan. He will take Larry upriver to a deep pool the salmon lay in to rest before going further north to spawn. Then will take me out into the river to “hunt” for salmon and sea-run char.
Larry’s pool is in a small corner on the west side of the river. The pool is almost a crater in the river bed. The river flows along here deep, slow, and strong. The mouth of the crater is about eight feet deep and the bottom is over twenty. The crystal-clear aquamarine water sets the rock layers in the crater ablaze. It is a stunning palette of layered yellow, black, gray, orange, and green rock. When Larry arrives there are no salmon resting in it. With Anton’s help, Larry begins his vigil for the fish we came all the way to Iceland to land.
I am fishing a small pool along the bank with the same tiny zebra midge we caught all the char on in the River Hólaá the day before when Anton returns. I have neither seen a fish, nor had a take. Anton explains that we are going to wade all the way across the river sight fishing in the deeper pools.
Wading across the River Sogið requires the wisdom and experience of a local guide. We cannot simply take a compass bearing, nor pick an island and make our way. The river is half a mile wide here but the route is a meandering coil of twists and turns. We must put ourselves in position to see a fish before they see us, while avoiding a fall into a deep cold pool that would at least ruin the day. After two hours of “hunting” for salmon or sea-run char, I have one take and no fish landed to show for it. Anton and I are exhausted when we arrive back on the west shore of the river. He gives me instructions to fish the deep pools along the riverbank, while he hikes back up to the kaleidoscope pool where he left Larry.
I am standing on the riverbank watching the deep pool in front of me as Anton hikes over the hill to the north. As soon as he disappears, I see it. A big fish rolls in the pool right in front of me. Anton told us, “Just because a pool is empty now, does not mean it will be empty in ten minutes. These fish are moving upriver. They move in. They move out.” Carefully I work to the side of the pool, making sure not to cast a shadow over the fish before I cast my line. I can see three very large fish resting in the pool. It is time. As I gently laid my presentation at the top of the pool to let the current bring it in front of the fish, I have a familiar moment of doubt. The same feeling I have had so many times when I can see a big fish and realize all the things that can go wrong.
The fish eats.
I raise the rod.
The drag sings.
I want help.
“Anton!”
The drag sings.
“Anton!”
The drag sings.
“Larry!”
The drag sings.
“Somebody!”
No one is coming.
This is when the praying starts.
“Dear Lord help me land this fish.”
What seems like an eternity of doing my very best to fight the fish, while screaming for help passes.
Finally, the fish gives me its head, and he glides into my net.
I remove the hook, lay the rod down, keep him wet in the net, and hit my knees exhausted. Moments later, I catch my wind. I wade out past the hills on shore where Anton and Larry can see me. I scream repeatedly, but it is apparent they cannot hear me. Finally, I see Larry point in my direction and Anton starts running. I take the gorgeous sea-run char to the fastest moving water I can reach and point him into it. Anton is by my side in a minute. We get the picture. We get the char revived. We get the release. The char lives another day. I am ecstatic. One big fish is my ‘butcher’s bill’ and I proud to pay it.
I follow Anton back to Larry. He has been swinging a big rod with a big fly for hours with no luck. I show him the picture of my sea-run char and he says, “Damn son, what a fish. That will do for today.” And with that we head back to the lodge. We saved steaks, potatoes, and red wine for a celebration meal in hopes that Larry had completed his forty-year quest for an Atlantic salmon on the fly. My sea-run char would have to do, because the steaks and red wine would not wait another forty years.
As the sun set, the wind picked up into a gale and overnight it became a tempest. Our lodge wailed and groaned against the force of the wind all night. When dawn broke, there was a cold driving rain and our hopes of fishing one more day to catch Larry’s Atlantic salmon were dashed.
All adventures must have a beginning, middle, and end. This cold front marked the end of this one.
Recipe –
Ingredients:
____ A willing soul, a stout heart, good legs, back, shoulders, feet, and hips – priceless
____ A good fishing partner – double priceless
____ Time Off – up to 10 days, start to finish and including travel
____ $2,800 to “Go Fishing Iceland” for guides and beats
____ $550 for rental car ($1,100 split two ways)
____ $937 round trip airfare
____ $1,200 for lodging, meals, and provisions
____ $700 for tips, gas, and incidentals
____ If you don’t have good waders, wading boots, rods, reels, leaders, etc. the cost increases
Total Cost of this adventure: $6,187
Directions:
We were able to make contact with a couple of Icelandic fishing outfits. All of them were willing to help us plan our own trip and make it great. Our best contact, Eiður Kristjánsson, was very responsive and helped us get everything in Iceland reserved easily.
Our plan to fish the first day guided and second day on our own on each river was a stroke of genius. Without local knowledge, we would have used the wrong flies and fished the wrong sections of each beat. Their “first day lessons” helped us have second day success.
Also, the plan to fly into the international airport at Keflavík, ground transfer to the southern domestic airport at Reykjavík, then catch a flight to the northern domestic airport at Akureyri turned out to be a fantastic decision. Then we rented a car and drove to the guest house on the banks of the Laxá í Aðaldal River. Where we fished the first two days.
Then were able to drive all the way across the island and see the sights on our way to fish the River Hólaá and the River Sogið. The rental car provided us our freedom and access to the rivers, our lodging, fly shops, grocery stores, etc.
Fishing this way in Iceland is for intermediate to experienced fly fishers. Only the River Hólaá was something beginners could safely enjoy. And even then, if you did not know how to fish a midge below and indicator, you might struggle.
The Icelandic people are extremely friendly to visitors. The country is the cleanest I have ever visited. There is no crime, nor worries of such issues.
The overall schedule was simple.
Day 1 – Travel to Iceland
Day 2 – Travel to the guest house on the Laxá í Aðaldal River
Day 3 and 4 – Fish the Laxá í Aðaldal River
Day 5 – Drive south across the entire island to the Alvidra Lodge near the town of Selfoss
Day 6 and 7 – Fish the River Hólaá
Day 7 and 8 – Fish the River Sogið
Day 9 – Travel home
One of the first questions I am always asked after I tell someone about a trip like this is, “What did it cost.” If I tell someone, “$6,187.” They often say it is too expensive.
What they are really asking is the cost to the outfitter, which was $2,800 each. That is usually made in two or three payments. A deposit at the time of booking and then subsequent payments over the year leading up to the trip. The plane ticket and rental car are booked well after you book the trip. So, that is a separate cost at a later day.
So, you pay for it over the period of a year – NOT all at once.
Once you are in Iceland it is smart to use a high-quality credit card that does the exchange rate for you based on the daily published rate. If you attempt to use cash, you are at the mercy of the local cashier to know how to convert Euros or Icelandic Króna to USD. If you exchange USD for Króna or Euros, then you must make yourself an expert on how to spend the foreign cash.
At the time of this writing the exchange rate is 1 USD to 126.58 Icelandic Króna. The math gets serious using Icelandic Króna. A simple meal might be over $6,000 Icelandic Króna. Carrying that much cash is a mess.
Life is short.
Life without adventures ain’t worth living.
If you enjoyed the story and found the recipe at the end useful, you should check out my book, “The Hunt of a Lifetime: The Practical Guide to Planning and Executing Your Dream Hunt.” It is loaded with ‘how to’ go on adventure advice and recipes on how to cook up your own similar adventures.
You can purchase it on Amazon at this link - Get the Book.
Contact via Instagram DMs @ the_slow_hunt
