Day Four in Swedish Lapland — When Tiny Flies Make the Difference 🎣🇸🇪

We woke up around 7 AM, had breakfast, and started pondering where the next adventure would take us.

The weather hadn't changed much from the previous day. Steady rain, although it a little less aggressive. It was cloudy, but the temperature was comfortable, around 18°C.

At least we couldn't complain about being cold.

My son Tristan decided to stay at the cabin. The lake fishing and the rain from the previous day had finally taken their toll on him.

So today it would be just me and my friend.

We opened the map and started looking for somewhere new.

Our destination was Ammarnäs, a village approximately an hour's drive northwest of Sorsele.

A New River

We left the cabin around 8:30 AM, giving us enough time to arrive at the local fly shop around 9:30, where we could buy our fishing licenses and get some information about the area.

As we had experienced everywhere else in Sweden, the people were incredibly friendly and helpful.

They gave us advice about where to fish and explained the access points. They also assured us that we could leave the car in the parking area and start fishing almost immediately — the river was only about 100 metres away.

By the time we were ready, the rain had almost disappeared.

The temperature was around 16°C, there was practically no wind, and the cloudy sky made the conditions feel perfect for another day on the river.

This kind of weather immediately made me think about dry-fly fishing.

So, as well as my Euro-nymphing setup, I prepared my dry-fly rod.

I had a feeling that it would only be a matter of time before the fish started rising.

By 10 AM, we were ready.

The river was right in front of us, and we decided to start fishing a river section near the village.

The water looked promising and, once again, completely different from the rivers and sections we had fished during the previous days.

Right up the bridge where we parked, the river was deep and fast, with powerful rapids.

But as we looked upstream, the river gradually became wider, slower and much easier to wade.

We decided to start at the bridge and work our way upstream.

I began fishing the deep water in front of us with my nymphing setup.

First cast — fish on!

A beautiful 40 cm grayling.

My friend was also into fish almost immediately.

Things were looking good.

I moved a little higher, toward the head of the rapids, and on only my second cast there, another grayling took.

This one was considerably better.

48 cm.

It gave me an incredible fight, especially because I was fishing my new Soldarini Full Contact Euro Nymph 10'6" 2/3 wt rod.

I wanted to put some pressure on the fish and see what the new rod could handle.

It performed perfectly.

After about five minutes of fighting, I finally brought the 48 cm grayling to the net.

Another beautiful wild fish.

Exploring Upstream

After catching a few more grayling, we slowly started moving upstream, following a trail along the riverbank.

Every few hundred metres, we stopped whenever the water looked interesting.

At one point, we found a larger pool.

As I had already learned during this trip, the river's configuration here was completely different again.

The water was much shallower and the wading was actually quite easy.

And the fish were there.

We caught several more grayling — probably around four each from this particular section.

But honestly, at that point, who was counting?

We were in fly-fishing paradise.

Still, I was constantly looking for one thing.

Rising fish.

So far, nothing.

The First Rise

We continued upstream.

Eventually, the river changed again.

It became more like a uniform channel, with the water appearing almost the same depth across the entire width.

But something caught my attention.

On the far bank, I noticed that the water looked slightly darker.

That usually means one thing:

Deeper water.

I told my friend to stop.

I had a feeling this could be the place where I would finally get my dry-fly opportunity.

And as soon as we stopped...

A very subtle rise appeared.

Then another.

I knew immediately that this was going to be different.

These fish weren't attacking large flies.

They were feeding on tiny emergers.

I'd heard plenty of stories about Swedish fish being happy to eat relatively large dry flies, sometimes size 12 or 14.

But this situation was completely different.

The rises were incredibly delicate — just a tiny touch of the nose breaking the surface.

I knew I needed to go much smaller.

Size 18. Maybe even 20.

But first, I had to prove my instinct right.

The Scruffy Caddis Test

I started with my Scruffy Caddis.

A few casts. Nothing. Another cast. Nothing. I wasn't surprised.

The fish were clearly focused on something much smaller.

So I changed the fly. I selected a size 18 emerger, tied on a Hanák 390 BL hook.

The fly touched the water. Almost immediately...

Fish on!

That was all the confirmation I needed.

I had read the situation correctly.

Luckily, I had kept a few small emergers in my fly box. And they were exactly what the fish wanted.

One Hour of Dry-Fly Magic

For the next hour, the fishing was incredible.

I probably landed more than 10 fish from that small section of river.

The rises remained incredibly subtle, and every take required concentration.

But that's what makes this kind of fishing so addictive.

The fish were feeding selectively, the flies were tiny, and the presentation had to be perfect.

Eventually, the surface activity stopped.

That wasn't surprising.

After catching several fish from such a small area, the fish had probably become cautious, and the hatch itself appeared to have ended.

The productive section was probably only around 30 metres long, but I knew there were more fish there.

My friend, meanwhile, had moved about 100 metres upstream and was still having fun with the nymphing setup.

So I decided to switch back to Euro-nymphing.

Back to the Nymphs

The water wasn't really ideal for Euro-nymphing, but I wanted to try anyway.

As expected, the initial results were poor.

But I'm stubborn.

And years of competition fishing have taught me that sometimes you need to approach a difficult piece of water differently.

I decided to use a long Euro-nymphing cast, combined with very small size 20 nymphs with 2 mm bead heads.

One of my confidence flies — the Gasolina.

A fly that has never let me down.

This section was also restricted to one fly only, which made casting and fly control even more challenging.

But almost immediately...

Fish on!

I was happy.

I'd found them again.

We continued fishing for another 30 minutes before deciding it was time to head back to the car.

It was already time for lunch.

The Afternoon — A Completely Different River

After lunch, we decided to explore another section of the river, this time below the village.

We had been told that some trophy-sized fish were caught there, so naturally we had to investigate.

Around 2 PM, we arrived.

The river was much wider and deeper, and the water looked much more like the sections we had fished during the first days of our Swedish adventure.

The beginning was slow.

We needed a few minutes to adjust after fishing the much shallower water upstream.

But eventually, I found the fish.

A few beautiful grayling came to the net, including several notable fish over 40 cm.

Once again, the river had delivered.

Another Day, Another Adventure

As always, time seemed to move twice as fast when I was fishing.

Before we knew it, it was time to leave.

We packed our gear, headed back to the cabin, and started preparing dinner.

Another incredible day in Swedish Lapland was coming to an end.

We had fished deep rapids, shallow pools, dry flies, tiny emergers and Euro-nymphs — and once again, the river had taught us the same lesson:

Don't fish the river you expect. Fish the river that's actually in front of you.

Tomorrow would be another completely different adventure.

This time, we were heading back to a lake.

But not for perch.

Tomorrow, we would be hunting trout. 🎣🇸🇪🏔️