When thinking about the Krka River, most people envision a larger karst river, its floods, and the picturesque Dolenjska landscape. In Slovenia, it is renowned as the only major river with limestone thresholds, and within its stream lies the romantic Otočec Castle. However, for a fly fisherman, its main beauties lie beneath the surface.

It was a chilly Saturday morning, and as I glanced out the window in the early hours, darkness still enveloped everything. Despite the early hour, I quickly got ready, organized myself, had a swift breakfast, and headed to the meeting point by the main road, waiting for my fishing colleague David to pick me up. Along the way, we picked up two more friends, so within twenty minutes, the whole team of five fly fishing enthusiasts was approaching the Krka River. With only one car at our disposal, logistics were a bit tricky, but with some resourceful rearranging of gear, we easily overcame this challenge. Upon arrival at the fishing spot, we were greeted by friendly guards who checked our permits, offered local advice and fishing information, and wished us good luck. Due to our numbers, we split into two groups, eagerly heading to the water with the first rays of sunlight.

It is crucial to highlight that the upper reaches of the Krka River represent a smaller water body characterized by a consistently steady flow, typically remaining below 10 cubic meters per second, owing to the presence of karst springs. The rocky bottom is dark and covered with moss and algae, which has often proved challenging during fishing, as the apparent water depth can be deceiving. Besides the numerous lost nymphs, this illusion has led to some surprises while crossing the river. I cautiously stepped into the dark water without seeing the bottom, only to realize that the water didn’t even reach my knees. However, most of Krka’s cascades disappeared long ago due to dams built by people to harness the power of water. Throughout the day, we passed at least five dams, their mills and sawmills long abandoned, offering no benefits anymore. Instead, they contribute to the decreased complexity of the river, lower oxygen levels, especially in the summer months, and consequently, poorer conditions for fish and other water organisms.

We continued fishing, moving towards the source, and reached the first riffles. Despite the very shallow water, I cast the nymph into the first small stream, driven by the principle and the desire to thoroughly fish the water. Baamm! A tug, and a small wild fish soon showed itself on the surface. The young rainbow trout seemed genuinely cute and appeared entirely healthy and in excellent condition. Unaware that the day would be full of juvenile catches, I covered the remaining runs and began stringing adorable small rainbows. We crossed a weir and reached a slightly larger pool with two main runs, allowing us to fish without disturbing each other.

While observing the depth, a desire to catch something larger overwhelmed me, so I adjusted my cast. I threw a bit more upstream, lowered the nymph closer to the bottom, and waited. Nothing. I repeated the process once. Twice. Reflexively, I set the hook and felt the rod shake. A more extended run followed, and a few seconds later, I glimpsed the fish for the first time. It was a slender and long rainbow of medium size. I was lucky to land it soon as during the fight, it dangerously approached a submerged tree. My fishing buddy and I agreed it was a wild female, slightly scratched on the side, most likely from the just-concluded spawning. After a brief photo session, I gratefully let her swim back into the depths and continued fishing with even greater enthusiasm.

The upper part of the river was covered and by noon, we called the other part of the team to arrange a move to the next location. We drove to one of the weirs, took a short break, and had a snack. We chatted about the water conditions, shared pictures of recently caught fish, and congratulated each other. Although fishing in a group may yield less water for each angler, it fosters competition and camaraderie in a positive sense. When a friend catches a large fish, you’re genuinely happy for them, yet you simultaneously wish to catch an even bigger one, driving yourself to be more precise, cautious, and focused during the fishing.