We woke up around 7 AM, just like the previous days, and started preparing breakfast and getting our equipment ready for the fifth and final day of our Swedish Lapland adventure.

The night before, after dinner, we had checked the weather and discussed our options for the last day.

We had one idea in mind. A big lake. And some trophy-sized rainbow trout.

A friend had previously sent us some pictures of the fish caught there, and honestly, we were impressed by their size. These weren't the kind of rainbows you see every day. Our friend also gave us the contact of a local guy who could take us out on the lake.

We called him that evening, and luckily, he was available. He wasn't a full-time guide, but he knew the lake extremely well.

The plan was set.

Our Last Adventure

The drive to the lake would take around an hour, and we arranged to meet our host at 9 AM. By 8 AM, all three of us — me, my son Tristan, and my friend — were in the car and ready to go. When we arrived, we met our host, Mr. Aldo Silva, and his son, Gabrielle. They arrived with two boats.

My friend decided to try spinning, while Tristan and I stayed loyal to fly fishing. For me, there is something particularly special about catching a trophy rainbow on a fly rod. Aldo took me and Tristan in one boat, while Gabrielle went with my friend in the other. Later, we would understand why Aldo had chosen to stay with us.

From the very beginning, I could tell that he had a lot of fly-fishing experience. The way he prepared his equipment said everything. This didn't feel like a traditional guided fishing trip. It felt more like three fishermen going fishing together. Within minutes, we already felt like friends.

Lake Storuman

Around 9:30 AM, we jumped into the boat and our trophy-rainbow adventure officially began.

Before getting into the fishing, it's worth understanding just how impressive this lake is. Storuman is actually a large hydroelectric reservoir covering approximately 171 km² (66 sq mi), making it one of Sweden's largest lakes. It's also extremely deep, reaching approximately 135–148 metres (443–485 ft) in some areas.

The Ume River flows directly through the lake, creating a huge and incredibly rich aquatic environment.

And that's what makes the rainbow trout here so interesting. They aren't native to the lake. The Storuman and surrounding Ume River system have historically been associated with commercial fish-farming operations, including rainbow trout and Arctic char. Over the years, some fish escaped from open-water aquaculture cages into the lake. The cold, deep waters of Storuman provide an incredible environment, rich in insects and smaller prey such as lake whitefish. The escaped rainbows adapted to life in the lake and developed into powerful, wild-looking fish, with some reportedly reaching 5–6 kg or more.

And we were about to find out just how powerful they could be.

The First Drift

We drove the boat for about 30 minutes before reaching a bay where the water was much calmer. The wind was just right — enough to create a perfect drift along the shoreline without making the fishing uncomfortable. As soon as we stopped, we saw the first rises. My heart started pounding. This was exactly what I had been hoping for.

Our Equipment

For the lake, both Tristan and I went with our 7 wt, 10 ft rods. I used my Arcay Otter 10' 7 wt, while Tristan was fishing an older Maxia 10' 7 wt. Tristan started with a fast-intermediate line, while I chose a slow-intermediate. For leaders, we initially went with 0.20 mm fluorocarbon. Our fly selection was simple: leech patterns.

One black and one olive. We were fishing two flies. Aldo, meanwhile, had a completely different approach. He was using a 5 wt, 9 ft rod with a floating line. His plan was simple. He wanted to catch them on dry flies.

And while we were setting up, we discovered something completely unexpected.

A Small World

Aldo noticed my Maxia rod. He looked at it and immediately started talking about the brand.

Then he told me something I couldn't believe. He was the original owner of Maxia rods. He had eventually sold the company to its current Spanish owner before moving to Sweden, where he now lives with his wife and spends his time fishing and hunting. His son Gabriele was visiting for the summer.

Suddenly, the world felt very small. Here I was, sitting in a boat in Swedish Lapland, holding one of my favourite rods, fishing alongside the very first owner of the company that made it. Fishing really does have a way of bringing people together from completely different parts of the world. And what an honour it was for me to share a boat with him.

The First Cast

We positioned the boat for the drift. Everything was ready. Finally, our first casts on the enormous lake. The flies had barely hit the water when Tristan was already into a fish. And then...

Gone. He had been broken off by a big fish only seconds into the fight. I didn't even get that far. My first fish broke me off almost immediately during the retrieve. That was enough information. 0.20 mm fluorocarbon wasn't going to be enough. Unfortunately, the strongest fluorocarbon I had with me was 0.24 mm. Hopefully, it would be enough to keep these monsters attached. 

We changed the leaders and started again.

The Power of a Swedish Rainbow

This time, Tristan got the first one to the net. A beautiful 45 cm silver rainbow trout. Not long after, I landed my first Swedish Lapland rainbow. It wasn't particularly large, perhaps around 50 cm, but the fight was unbelievable. That fish took me straight into the backing. I brought it close to the boat probably four times before finally getting it into the net. The power was incredible.

Once I had the fish in my hands, I understood why they looked so different. They were thick, healthy and incredibly powerful. They looked and fought much more like steelhead than the typical stocked rainbow trout I was used to.

Finding the Right Depth

For the next hour, we hooked and landed around five fish each, with several others breaking us off. Aldo was also having success on the dry fly, landing two fish before the surface activity suddenly stopped. But I wasn't surprised. I had a feeling the fish hadn't stopped feeding. They had simply changed depth. The rises were gone.

Time to change tactics. I switched to a D3 sinking line, while Tristan moved to a D5. Five minutes later... We were into fish again. We had found them. The biggest challenge wasn't finding the fish. It was keeping them attached.

And believe me, even 0.24 mm fluorocarbon didn't feel like enough. We probably lost some of the biggest fish simply because we couldn't put enough pressure on them. These fish behaved like truly wild fish. They constantly tried to get away from the boat, and their feeding depth changed throughout the day. That meant we had to constantly adjust the presentation, depth and retrieve. Nothing could be taken for granted.

Three Hours Gone in a Flash

Three hours passed almost without us noticing. That's the strange thing about fishing. When you're having a good day, time seems to move twice as fast. Around midday, we decided to stop for a 30-minute lunch break.

The spinning team — my friend and Gabrielle — joined us. It was the perfect opportunity to exchange information about what everyone had discovered. They had also caught plenty of fish, probably even more than us.

So everyone was happy. It had been an incredible morning.

The Afternoon Change

Right after lunch, the weather started to change. The wind picked up slightly. The clouds became thicker. And then... The rises started appearing again. The fish had moved back toward the surface.

Aldo became much more active with his dry-fly setup. I switched back to a floating line and dry fly, while Tristan stayed with a slow-intermediate and leech patterns. Once again, it became clear that it wasn't necessarily about which fly you were using. It was about finding the correct depth and using the right retrieve.

For the next hour and a half, the action continued. Aldo landed four fish on dry flies. I landed another two and missed several more. Tristan added three more fish and also lost a few.

The lake continued to keep us guessing.

The End of the Adventure

By around 4 PM, we finally decided it was time to head back to shore. We packed everything away and started preparing for the drive back to the camping ground. But this time, there was something different in the air.

It was our final evening. The next morning, we would have to leave early for the 10-hour drive back to Stockholm and our flight home. Five days had passed. Five days that somehow felt like both a lifetime and a few hours. We had fished rivers, lakes, rapids, deep pools and shallow riffles. We had caught grayling, trout, perch and pike. We had fished nymphs, Euro-nymphs, streamers, leeches, dry flies and tiny emergers.

We had learned new water, experimented with new techniques, met incredible people and created memories that will stay with us for a very long time. 

And most importantly, we had made new friends.

Until Next Time, Swedish Lapland

That evening, back at the cabin, we prepared our final dinner and poured ourselves a glass of brandy.

We talked about the trip.

The fish.

The rivers.

The crazy fights.

The flies.

The mistakes.

The moments when everything came together.

And, even though we hadn't left yet, we were already talking about coming back next year. There is something about Swedish Lapland. Something that gets under your skin. I've fished in many places around the world, but this place was different.

The wild rivers.

The enormous landscapes.

The powerful fish.

The silence.

The people.

The endless daylight.

And the feeling that around the next bend, another adventure is waiting.

Swedish Lapland got under my skin.

And I'm already dreaming about going back.

Until next time. 🎣🇸🇪🏔️