Category: Goulburn River Talk

Fishing reports, seasonal observations and local knowledge from Victoria’s famous Goulburn River.

A Forecast That Never Arrived, a River Rising Fast and the First Flying Ants

Goulburn River Fishing Report: 13 October 2026

There are times in guiding when the responsible decision turns out to be the wrong one, at least as far as the weather is concerned.

A couple of clients from Perth were booked to fish with us for three days this week. Because they were flying across the country and had accommodation and flights to adjust, we needed to make a decision last week rather than waiting until the last moment. At that stage the forecast was remarkably consistent. We were being told to expect roughly an inch of rain on Monday, another inch on Tuesday and perhaps half an inch again on Wednesday.

Had that rain arrived across the catchments, the expectation was that the tributaries would rise and releases from Lake Eildon would be reduced to capture the incoming water and avoid unnecessarily adding regulated releases to natural flows downstream. The Goulburn gathers water from numerous tributaries below the dam, and river levels farther downstream can rise substantially even when releases from Eildon are modest. Goulburn-Murray Water also notes that releases can change in response to inflows, observed rainfall and updated weather forecasts. Goulburn-Murray Water.

Given the information available, cancelling was the only sensible call.

Naturally, the rain largely failed to arrive.

As I write this, conditions have been mostly mild and overcast, with very little rainfall. Instead of the river dropping, releases are now climbing rapidly. It is frustrating for the clients who changed their plans and frustrating for us, but this is the nature of working outdoors. Decisions have to be made using the forecast in front of you, not the weather that eventually arrives.

The river is coming up

The most recent Goulburn-Murray Water schedule was issued at 10 am on Monday 12 October. It showed the Lake Eildon release at 1,900 ML/day, rising to 2,300 on Tuesday, 3,400 on Wednesday, 4,800 on Thursday and 5,300 ML/day on Friday. These are releases at Lake Eildon, and the changes will take time to work their way down the river. But today it is coming up with more rises scheduled.

Date	Forecast release
12 October	1,900 ML/day
13 October	2,300 ML/day
14 October	3,400 ML/day
15 October	4,800 ML/day
16 October	5,300 ML/day

These are forecast releases from Lake Eildon. Actual releases may change without notice, and the increase takes time to move through downstream sections of the river.

Goulburn-Murray Water has 40 GL of inter-valley trade water planned for delivery from the Goulburn system to the Murray during October. The published information does not specify exactly how much of each daily increase is attributable to environmental water, customer demand or inter-valley trade, so we can’t label this simply as an irrigation rise. What matters from a fishing perspective is that the river is now moving towards something resembling its summer height.

That will change the fishing considerably.

Before the latest rise began, sections with a reasonable concentration of trout were fishing ok. Other stretches were exceptionally difficult. We have worked hard using streamers, nymphs, dry-dropper combinations and straight dry flies, and it has been eye-opening to see how little fish activity there has been in places that otherwise appeared close to ideal.

The river was below 1,500 ML/day for much of that period. Water temperatures were around 13°C and dissolved oxygen was above 10 parts per million. From a water-quality perspective, it does not get much better. There was a little colour left in the river after the previous week’s rain, but that has largely disappeared. As the higher release pushes through over the next few days, I expect the river to become extremely clear again and remain that way for the foreseeable future.

Good conditions does not automatically mean more fish, of course. That remains the underlying question in many of the sections we have been fishing over the past few weeks.

Rising water has unsettled the trout

Even comparatively small changes of 200 or 300 ML/day have been enough to unsettle fish during the early part of the season. As water begins covering additional gravel, edges and side channels, trout move into newly available water and once again must jostle for position and reestablish the pecking order. This takes time. Feeding lanes alter. Current speed changes. A comfortable lie one day may be less useful the next.

The latest increase in flows is much larger, and it will take the fish some time to settle into it.

The positive side is that once the river reaches these higher levels and remains reasonably stable, a great deal more habitat comes into play. Fish can move towards softer edges, flooded grass, backwaters, current breaks and bankside structure. These are the sorts of positions that make summer drift-boat fishing on the Goulburn so interesting.

The rise will also give us a much clearer opportunity to assess what is actually in the river. At low water, fish can remain concentrated around a handful of deeper runs, access points and stocked areas. At 4,000+ ML/day, there is enough water for trout to redistribute through much longer sections. It also opens the entire river up to drift boat access and scares off most of the wade fisherman who relocate to nearby smaller streams.

If the release remains reasonably stable for any length of time, we should begin seeing fish take up recognisable summer positions. We are also only a few weeks away from the larger terrestrial insects becoming genuinely important, which should encourage more trout towards the edges.

Rising fish are becoming more common as we move further into Spring.

When you find a rising fish, stay with it

The main advice I would give anyone fishing the Goulburn at present is simple. When you find a worthwhile rising fish, take your time.

Do not rush the first cast. Do not make a poor presentation simply because the trout has risen twice and you are worried it may stop. Watch the fish, work out its rhythm, identify the best position and only cast when the opportunity is right.

We spent roughly an hour on one trout this week.

We anchored the boat nearby, altered the leader and tippet, selected the flies and watched. For perhaps forty minutes we simply tracked the fish through the seam and backwater with polarised glasses. It moved from one feeding line to another, occasionally slipping into a position where a cast was possible, then drifting back somewhere the presentation would have been compromised by drag almost immediately.

The clients may initially have wondered whether I had lost my mind by devoting so much time to one fish. At one point I was sure it was gone and stood on my rower’s seat for about 15 mins before finally sighting it again, which gave us the confidence to persevere with it.

We cast only when it moved into exactly the right place. Eventually, on one of the few occasions when it zigged rather than zagged, the fly arrived perfectly and the trout ate.

It was probably the largest trout the client had hooked in Australia, and understandably he became nervous during the fight. The fish was brought close to the boat too early while still very green. I broke one of my own rules and took a swipe at it with the net because I was concerned about the amount of pressure being applied and could sense the tension that it might be lost.

For a moment the fish was inside. Then, as I lifted at full stretch, it slid forward over the lip and back into the river. That produced another anxious five minutes before we finally got it into the net properly.

The landing was untidy, but that is not the important part of the story. The important part was everything that happened before the fish ate. We did not waste the opportunity. We watched, waited and made the cast only when the odds were as favourable as we could make them.

That matters at present because those opportunities can be a long way apart.

There are access points and bridges where recently stocked fish have remained in greater numbers than elsewhere. At the right time of day, particularly during an afternoon hatch or near evening, anglers may catch two or three good fish within a relatively short period. Away from those concentrations, the river has often required much more searching.

When you locate a quality wild fish feeding steadily, it deserves proper attention. Stay with it until you catch it, spook it or learn enough to know that continuing is no longer productive.

The hatches are still developing

Up until now the changing flows have unsettled the fish more than they have interrupted the insects.

We are still seeing spinner falls during the afternoon, which means mayflies are emerging somewhere through the system, perhaps close to last light or after dark. Caddis are becoming increasingly noticeable, along with grannoms, dragonflies and beetles. We have also seen the first flying ants.

This ant activity is worth noting. Flying ants are one of the most anticipated events of every Spring. They can produce very selective surface feeding by large numbers of fish, and the feeling is that the next warm, humid evening may bring them properly into play. Carry a few termite imitations in the box at all times.

You’ve been warned.

There are few things more frustrating than finding trout rising confidently to insects you knew would eventually appear but neglected to carry.

Don’t forget your ant patterns. You don’t always need them, but when you do, they are crucial.

As the weeks roll on, the caddis numbers will accumulate through a much larger section of the river than they currently appear in. There are more and more of them every day, but they aren’t in such enough numbers yet to properly excite the trout. It’s close. But it’s not quite here yet.

All of these bugs: the duns, spinners, caddis and terrestrial insects will begin arriving in new feeding lanes along the banks and across submerged gravel as the river continues to rise. It may take the trout a little time to find those slots, but the broader direction of travel is encouraging. More water. More bugs. More opportunities to find a good riser tucked in behind a line of willows or swinging to and fro in the bubble line.

More of the river is now available

At the lower flows, we deliberately limited ourselves to particular sections. Some gravel bars were extremely shallow, and there was little room to pass bank anglers without interfering with their fishing. At the forecast levels, almost every regular drift section comes back into consideration. The extra depth gives us room to pass anglers on foot without pushing through the water they are fishing.

In truth, I have seen remarkably few bank anglers during the past several weeks. On some long drifts, the river has felt almost empty.

As the water rises, the drift boat becomes increasingly useful. We can cover the quieter kilometres, search long banks, explore side water and stop when we find something worth working at. The boat also allows several rods to remain rigged for different situations, which is particularly valuable when moving between slow pools, gravel bars, boulder fields, rock walls and bubble lines.

Drift boating will be the most effective way to explore the Goulburn for the remainder of the season.

Small streams are providing another option

The smaller rivers are fishing reasonably well at present. I have received reports from several anglers, and some of our guides have been out over the past four days across streams between Alexandra and Marysville. Most have managed to locate fish.

That is a welcome addition to the local fishing options.

The small streams allow anglers to fish elsewhere through the quieter parts of the day, while the Goulburn can be targeted during its better afternoon or evening windows. The main consideration is finding a stretch without another angler already working it, though lately that has not been especially difficult. Only the rivers closest to Marysville have been particularly busy.

The smaller water is also a good place to watch the season develop. Beetles, ants, caddis and mayflies often become more obvious to the fish on these waters before they do on the larger river. A short walk along a small stream can tell you a great deal about what is beginning to happen across the district. You can stand in a tail out and clearly see everything that is ending up on the water as the rivers drains past your legs from one pool to the next.

Beginners on the water

We had another beginner workshop running over the weekend, along with several private lessons on the Goulburn and smaller streams. A few trout were landed, but perhaps more importantly, everyone saw fish.

There is nothing quite like watching a live trout feed. You can explain reading water, presentation and drag on a lawn or through diagrams, but the learning curve changes completely once a beginner watches a fish move within a current.

They see the body language. The small adjustments. The way the trout shifts sideways to inspect one presentation and ignores another. They begin understanding that the fish is not sitting motionless waiting to be caught. It is continuously making decisions and using the current to its advantage.

Watching that happen is one of the quickest ways to improve, and it is also one of the best ways to get somebody genuinely interested in fly fishing.

The outlook for the coming week

After the forecast that failed to arrive, I would treat any longer-range prediction with a little humility.

The current outlook is for cooler, cloudy conditions early in the week, followed by a mostly dry and warming run. Wednesday is presently expected to reach around 18°C, Thursday 20°C and Friday 22°C, with some possible rain or drizzle early on Friday. The weekend then looks warmer, with approximately 23°C on Saturday and 24°C on Sunday, followed by a possible 27°C on Monday with the chance of afternoon showers.

That sequence could provide for some great opportunities across the region.

The initial rise in river level will probably make the fishing unsettled. Once the bulk of the increase has passed through and the river begins stabilising, the warmer weekend should see more bugs on the water and help trout establish themselves in the new water.

I would not expect the fishing to switch on everywhere immediately. The next few days are likely to be about exploration. We will be checking edges, side channels, slower water and new feeding lanes, while also revisiting the sections that have held fish during the lower flows.

By the weekend we should have a much clearer picture.

Drift boats and group bookings

We have drift boats available through the coming weeks and once again have enough guide capacity to run proper multi-boat days.

For groups of up to six anglers, we can generally organise several boats without too much difficulty. With sufficient notice and subject to existing bookings, we can sometimes accommodate groups of eight.

Drift boating is the best way to fish the Goulburn River.

That opens up the possibility of fishing several river sections simultaneously, or running a longer progression down the Goulburn over multiple days. It is particularly useful for groups of friends who want to fish together.

Call us with your preferred dates and we will give you an honest account of the conditions and guide availability.

New Zealand and Montana

We have been concentrating heavily on New Zealand during the past couple of weeks. In that time more than 130 information packs have gone out to people who have enquired about the coming Southland season, and bookings are now moving quickly.

Anyone seriously considering joining us this summer should get in touch so we can look at the remaining weeks and find suitable dates.

Southland trips running January, February and March.

Southland will provide a valuable alternative for anglers wanting to escape what may become a warm, difficult summer across parts of Victoria, New South Wales and Tasmania. Cool rivers, long daylight hours and the flexibility to move between different catchments give us options that can be difficult to find at home during prolonged heat.

Montana bookings have also begun moving, including a couple of larger groups and a number of individual anglers.

We are offering four departures across two months. Each trip runs for 13 days and 12 nights and includes three distinct fishing regions, with four nights based in each. That is important. We do not remain at one lodge and hope the local river happens to be fishing well. The journey is designed around variety, allowing us to fish different rivers, experience different hatches and make the most of the conditions as the trip develops.

Each hosted group is kept to a maximum of four anglers. On selected departure dates we can run two separate groups simultaneously, using different hosts, accommodation, vehicles and guide teams. Anglers are welcome to join individually, and groups of four or more can also speak with us about arranging a private departure.

For now

The river is changing quickly.

By the end of this week, the Goulburn may be running at almost three times the level it carried only a short time ago. That will create disruption before it creates opportunity, but it also brings much more of the river back into play.

Expect a few unsettled days. Watch the edges as the water rises. Carry ants and termites. If you locate a rising fish, slow down and make the opportunity count.

We will have boats on the river through the week and should develop a much better understanding of the higher water opportunities. Anyone coming to the district is welcome to call for an up-to-the-minute report.

You can phone, text or send a WhatsApp message to 0418 995 611. When I am guiding, calls will go to voicemail, but I will return them at the first opportunity. Usually when we stop for a coffee. In any case, I am usually off the river by around 8 pm.

I hope this helps with your planning, and I hope you manage some time beside the river soon.

Tight lines,
Anthony

Goulburn Valley Fly Fishing Centre
0418 995 611

Clear water, streamer fishing and a river coming to life

Goulburn Valley fishing report – Friday 25 September 2026

With the Grand Final long weekend underway, here’s an update after two full days of drift boating on Wednesday and Thursday. I fished with a father-and-son team across several parts of the Goulburn, finishing Thursday with five fish in the net and around twenty hits or follows on streamers. In the clear water, we could often watch the whole encounter unfold.

We also sighted around twenty platypus on Thursday alone, some within a couple of rod lengths of the boat. Between watching flies, looking for fish and having platypus surface alongside us, there was plenty to keep everyone occupied.

The river is rising gradually, insect activity is building and the willows are filling out. Fish are still thinly distributed through the stretches we’re covering, but the past two days have given us a better picture of how to approach the fishing, along with some good reasons to get out.

Streamers have been the best option

Wednesday was warmer, with less water in the river, and the fishing was challenging. Thursday’s increase gave several runs more depth and made manoeuvring the boat across the shallow gravel bars noticeably easier.

Fishing streamers has been our most productive approach, and also the most exciting. In the clear water, you can track the fly from the moment it lands all the way back to the rod. Sometimes a fish appears behind it and follows without committing. Sometimes there’s a sudden flash and a hit. It’s extremely exciting and almost entirely visual – quite different from the picture many people have of retrieving a submerged fly through a lake. You see the approach, the hesitation, the change of direction and, sometimes, the take. There’s much more to the day than the final tally in the net.

Thursday’s five landed fish came from around twenty hits or follows. There was enough interaction to keep us experimenting and paying attention, but those numbers also need some context. Two or three years ago, a day fishing this way could quite readily produce a dozen to fifteen fish, with forty or fifty follows, bumps, hits or looks along the way.

To me, that comparison points to substantially fewer fish in the river. We’re still finding opportunities, but we’re covering plenty of water to find them.

With fish spread out, streamers let us search successive banks and runs while watching how the trout respond. The interest doesn’t always turn into a hooked fish, but each follow gives us something to work with.

I first walked into Kelly Galloup’s Slide Inn in Montana in 2010, after an American friend made me promise I’d stop by. I came away with a bunch of new flies and some fresh ideas for fishing the Goulburn. We spent a few weeks experimenting between summer dry-fly sessions in Idaho. While the timing wasn’t ideal for streamer fishing, those early outings changed how we approached our home waters. We’ve been refining that approach ever since.

I’ve recently put together half a dozen outfits covering three different systems, with line and fly combinations suited to different water levels and presentations. They’ll allow us to get the best out of the conditions as they change over the coming months. If you’ve been interested in trying a day of streamer fishing from the boat, this is a good opportunity to get a feel for it.

There are rising fish, too

On Thursday, I bumped into GVFFC founder and my former business partner, David Pickering, at the boat ramp at the top end of Breakaway. He was fishing with our guide Chad and drifting down towards Alexandra. They found a few fish rising throughout the day. Their best was a rainbow of around three pounds, which took about an hour of attention and several fly changes before it finally ate the fly.

There are opportunities on the dry fly, but they’ve been scattered. At present, I’d come prepared to search with streamers and stop when a rising fish gives you a reason to change.

When that happens, take a moment to watch. Where is it feeding? How often does it rise? What is the current doing between you and the fish? David and Chad’s rainbow was a reminder of how much patience can matter once you’ve found a worthwhile trout.

A lot of the rising fish we’ve found have been in mirror-like water, where stealth and presentation are paramount. Don’t be afraid to extend your leader and go finer with the tippet when the fly and fish warrant it. A 10–12-foot leader down to 5X is a useful starting point, but we’ve gone longer and as fine as 6X to tempt fish in the slower pools.

In the boat, it’s handy to have several rods rigged for different situations so we can swap methods quickly. When wading, you need to be more proactive about making those adjustments yourself. Take the time to alter your leader or tippet rather than persevering with a setup that isn’t giving you the presentation you need.

The river is coming up

Heading into the long weekend, releases from Eildon are forecast to continue their gradual rise. They were around 800 ML/day on Wednesday just gone, to approximately 1,100 ML/day yesterday, with 1,300 ML/day forecast for today, Friday.

These small increases make a noticeable difference at the lower end of the flow range. They put more water over the gravel bars, give us additional clearance for the boat and open up more room for fish to hold and feed. A little extra depth can make an exposed run feel considerably more comfortable for a trout.

The release forecast issued at 10 am on 23 September sets out the following:

Date	Forecast release
Friday 25 September	1,300 ML/day
Saturday 26 September	1,450 ML/day
Sunday 27 September	1,500 ML/day

These are releases from Lake Eildon, rather than measurements at every point downstream. Changes take time to travel through the river, and actual releases can vary from the forecast. Check the latest Goulburn–Murray Water release forecast before heading out.

Significant rain could change the picture and see releases reduced again. We’re not yet into the main summer irrigation period, but the river is beginning to have that feel about it, with releases edging upwards.

With the lake lower than we’d like, my hope is that summer flows remain moderate – around the 3,000- 5,000 ML/day mark for much of the main season – rather than reaching the much higher levels we sometimes see. That’s a hope from a fishing perspective, rather than a release forecast. We’ll follow the actual operating updates as the season develops.

A note for anyone rowing below Gilmore’s Bridge

There are two dangerous shallow runs over gravel bars below Gilmore’s Bridge where the current sweeps hard from left to right, pushing boats towards the willows.

The difficulty is that the water on the left can be too shallow to get an effective stroke with the left oar, just when you need it to counter the current. A boat can be swept into the trees before the rower has much opportunity to recover.

The first of the two is particularly awkward late in the day, when the low sun can obscure your view on the approach and through the run. Discretion is the better part of valour here. If you’re unfamiliar with these passages at the current levels, stop well upstream and inspect them. My preference would be to walk the boat through where the footing, depth and current allow that to be done safely, rather than commit to rowing through without a clear line.

I know most readers won’t be rowing this stretch themselves, but if you are and would like a heads-up, drop me a line. I can send Google Maps pins identifying the two locations.

We’ve drifted the upper river several times since opening, along with stretches around Breakaway and Alexandra. This week was our first drift below Thornton. We waited until the river had risen enough to give us more room to pass wading anglers without disturbing their fishing.

Despite plenty of traffic crossing the bridges, we saw only four or five anglers along roughly fifteen kilometres of river.

The insects are the early arrivals

The insect activity is what feels particularly advanced for September. Across Wednesday and Thursday, I saw an extraordinary number of dragonflies – possibly more than I can remember seeing in any comparable 24 hour period. There have also been large numbers of grannoms.

Those two stand out as perhaps a month ahead of what I’d normally expect. Mayflies have been sparse during these sessions, with only a sprinkling of other caddis. Earlier in the week we saw some spinner falls, and beetles have been landing on us in the boat.

The willows are closer to their usual schedule, perhaps a week early. They’re putting on leaf quickly, and I’d expect them to look fully bushy within another five days or so.

It’s an interesting combination: a familiar spring change along the banks, with some insects appearing unusually early and in remarkable numbers. That gives us plenty to watch over the next few weeks, although abundant insects don’t automatically mean trout rising everywhere.

A cooler change for the weekend

The forecast we’re working from has Alexandra reaching 23°C today (feels warmer than that), followed by 18°C on Saturday and 16°C on Sunday. Saturday brings showers and a southerly change, with 1–5 mm indicated.

Monday and Tuesday look mostly dry, with tops of 18–19°C. Farther ahead, the forecast shows showers on Wednesday 30 September, followed by 10–20 mm on Thursday 1 October and 5–10 mm on Friday 2 October.

Those later rainfall totals are still several days away and may change. If the rain arrives across the catchments, we’ll need to reassess the smaller rivers.

The cooler spell may interrupt some of the insect activity, but it will be interesting to see what happens when the next run of warmer days arrives.

Finding fish remains the challenge

On the way home, I ran into a former local guide while getting fuel, and we had a lengthy chat about what we’d both been seeing.

He’d spent a week camping and fishing here, wading, stalking the edges and backwaters, and working through the runs and pools. He’d found very few fish away from the areas immediately around the access points and bridges where trout had been stocked for opening.

Nearly all the fish being caught in those areas were rainbows, which was consistent with his impression that the recent stocking was providing much of the activity.

I’ve also had a report passed on from an angler with Australian team experience who struggled to locate fish away from those main access areas.

These are observations from particular anglers and stretches, rather than a population survey, but they agree with the amount of searching we’re doing and the difference we’re seeing compared with a few years ago.

It’s worth knowing that before a visit. Good-looking water won’t necessarily hold the number of fish you remember from earlier years. Moving, exploring and making the most of the fish you locate are all important at present.

The boat gives us options through the quiet stretches. We can cover more water, reach places that are difficult from the bank and stop when we find something worth working on. The clear water also makes that search absorbing: even a fish that follows and turns away can teach you something.

There’s plenty happening beyond the trout, too. We’ve been seeing azure kingfishers along the river, and Thursday’s platypus encounters were exceptional. Having one surface close enough to watch it properly, then quietly disappear again, is a lovely interruption to a day’s fishing. Seeing so many, along with the kingfishers and everything else happening around us, made it a memorable outing.

Keep an eye on the smaller streams

The smaller rivers may offer some of the more interesting opportunities over the coming weeks.

The figures I’ve been looking at put Lake Eildon at around 61% of capacity, with combined inflows of roughly 2,000 ML/day. That doesn’t tell us the condition of every tributary, but it gives us a reason to check rivers we might ordinarily expect to be running higher at this point in spring.

On the Rubicon, we often associate the first reliable dry-fly fishing with November. During some of the drought years, however, we were fishing dries from opening day, with insect activity seemingly brought forward by as much as two months.

If suitable flows persist and another warm spell follows this change, there could be worthwhile small-stream fishing well before the usual calendar suggests.

Start looking now. Check the individual river, spend a few minutes watching the quieter water and let what you find guide your approach. Next week’s rain may change the picture, so stay flexible.

Looking towards summer

Our recent Montana trip is still in the back of my mind. It was among the hottest, driest visits I can remember. By mid-July, a number of rivers were facing restrictions on fishing hours, with some closures following as heat, low flows and water temperatures became increasingly difficult.

Basing our fishing around tailwaters gave us access to good fishing despite those wider problems. Even so, it reinforced my feeling that June through to around mid-July is becoming the better window for the variety of fishing we want to do there. Later summer can still produce excellent fishing, but I’m increasingly reluctant to assume we’ll have the same range of options.

That experience doesn’t predict our summer, and early dragonflies don’t tell us exactly what February will bring. I’m sharing these observations because they’re worth keeping in mind as we decide where and when to fish.

I’m optimistic about the Goulburn over the next few months. Last November, December and January produced some exceptional sessions, and there is potential for very good fishing again as food becomes more available and the flows give us more water to work with. How consistently that happens will also depend on the fish available in each stretch.

Although Eildon at around 61% is lower than we’d like, my assessment is that there is ample stored water to carry the Goulburn through this summer with cold releases and good fishing opportunities. The longer-term concern is what happens if we don’t receive adequate rain next winter and spring to replenish it.

We’ll continue watching river temperatures and releases. Very hot air temperatures may also influence the hours we choose to spend on the water, particularly in January and through February, even when the river itself remains cold.

The smaller streams may offer their best opportunities earlier, with the Goulburn becoming increasingly important as summer progresses. Beyond that, I’m also looking forward to the fishing that March, April and May can bring.

Come for a drift

We have multiple boats on the river most days and more capacity for local bookings this season. Whether you’re considering a half-day drift, a full day or a few days fishing and staying locally, you’re welcome to get in touch.

If the streamer fishing appeals, let me know. The outfits are ready, the water is clear, and watching a trout appear behind your fly adds another dimension to the day. It’s also a lot of fun and can easily replace a cardio gym session if you’re worried about a ‘sedentary’ day of drifting in the boat.

We’ll give you an honest account of the conditions and help choose an outing that suits your experience. Short-notice enquiries are welcome too – if a day opens up at your end, it’s always worth asking.

Enquire about a drift-boat day

Enjoy the long weekend, whether you’re watching the football, heading for the river or fitting in a bit of both.

Tight lines,
Ant

Goulburn Valley Fly Fishing Centre
03 5773 2513 | 0418 995 611
gvflyfishing@gmail.com

Clear water, rising flows and the first signs of an early dry-fly season

Goulburn Valley fishing report: 22 September 2026

There were beetles landing on us while we fished yesterday. We’ve already seen a few weak spinner falls, caddis are starting to appear, and another run of warm weather is approaching. For the fourth week of September, there is quite a bit happening.

After today’s cooler conditions, Alexandra’s forecast climbs to 20°C on Wednesday, 23°C on Thursday and 25°C on Friday, with temperatures staying in the low twenties through the weekend. There is very little rain indicated before early next week. Combined with a gradual increase in river flows, that gives us something to look forward to.

The Goulburn is very clear. Releases from Eildon have been around 400 megalitres a day, but the forecast issued on 21 September sets out the following increases:

Date	Forecast release
Tuesday 22 September	600 ML/day
Wednesday 23 September	800 ML/day
Thursday 24 September	1,000 ML/day
Friday 25 September	1,000 ML/day

Beyond Friday, we’ll wait for the next update. These are planned releases from Eildon, and they can change; check the latest Goulburn–Murray Water forecast before heading out.

That extra water should make a useful difference. As the river rises, more of the gravel bars and their edges come into play, giving fish additional feeding water and a little more cover. We’ll be watching for trout moving into those areas as more food becomes available.

It also opens up our drift-boat options. Being able to work along a bank, cover successive runs and spend time out in the bubble lines where fish are feeding gives us more opportunities across a day. With the river clear and insect activity building, drift boating is becoming a much bigger part of our week again.

The fishing itself still requires care. The Goulburn has had a difficult couple of years, and the recent low, clear water has been demanding. We’ve brought a few fish to the fly this week, but our recent beginner sessions, including two boat days, have finished without a fish. The trout we are finding rising are asking for a good approach and an accurate, drag-free presentation.

That is worth knowing before you arrive. Give yourself time to watch a fish, work out its feeding rhythm and choose your position before making the first cast. A few well-considered presentations are often more useful than repeatedly covering the same trout.

We started the season doing more streamer fishing, but have increasingly moved towards dry-dropper rigs and straight dry-fly setups. From the boat, a nine-foot leader – and sometimes something shorter – with a stronger tippet can work well when we can position ourselves for a controlled drift. For stalking fish from the bank in the current clear water, I’d be starting with a 10–12-foot leader down to 5X.

Keep an eye on what is actually arriving on the water. The spinner falls have already given us reasons to stop and watch, caddis are becoming more noticeable, and yesterday’s beetles were a reminder to have a few terrestrial patterns handy. Flying ants are something I’ll be watching for next. If the warmth continues, it will be interesting to see how early the cicadas appear.

The smaller rivers deserve attention too. On the Rubicon, we often associate reliable dry-fly fishing with November. During some of the drought years, though, we were fishing dries from opening day, with the usual progression of insect activity seemingly brought forward by a month or more.

We may see some of that again. My advice is to start looking earlier than you ordinarily would. Visit a favourite stretch, spend a few minutes watching the quieter water and let what you see determine how you fish. There could be some very worthwhile small-stream fishing over the next couple of months.

Looking further ahead, the Bureau’s latest climate update confirms an established El Niño, while emphasising that its strength does not translate directly into the severity of local conditions. That’s spoken like a true politician. A warm, dry season is something we need to prepare for, but September cannot tell us exactly how every river will look in February.

Our recent Montana trip was a reminder of how much water choice matters in a difficult summer. It was among the hottest, driest visits I can remember. We found good fishing on the tailwaters while other waters were affected by heat, low flows and fishing restrictions. That experience has me thinking carefully about the coming season here.

If our smaller rivers become low and warm, their best fishing may come earlier, and there may be periods when we should leave them alone. The Goulburn’s cold releases from Eildon give us an important option, although we’ll still be watching temperatures and flows rather than assuming conditions will remain suitable everywhere.

For now, there is plenty to watch with interest: clear water, a measured rise in flows, insects appearing and warm days ahead. I have five consecutive days with experienced fly fishers coming starting tomorrow, which should give us a better picture of how the river responds.

We expect to have boats on the river most days from now on. Whether you’re thinking about a half-day drift, a full day on the water or a few days fishing and staying locally, get in touch. It’s always worth asking if an opportunity comes up at short notice.

We’ll keep you posted as the flows change and the fishing develops.

Tight lines,
Ant

0418 995 611

Goulburn River Fishing Report

Opening Week — September 2026

Lake Eildon: 60.7%
Inflows: 3,500 ML/day
Goulburn release: 1,000 ML/day
River temperature: 13.1°C
Dissolved oxygen: 10.0 ppm
Rainfall, past 24 hours: 0 mm
Eildon Pondage: 49%

The trout season has begun in fairly typical September fashion: a little chaotic, a little frustrating and with enough signs underneath it all to remind us that the good fishing is not very far away. Rain on Friday afternoon and evening made a mess of the river almost immediately, with dirty water right up through the upper river below the Pondage. We deliberately stayed away from the opening-weekend circus, although we did have a boat out for a reconnaissance run. We weren’t interested in flogging the river. The idea was simply to have a look, see what had changed over winter and find out whether anybody was home.

There were fish willing to move to streamers. We had a few bumps and managed one to the net, which was enough to open the account for another season. Through the week the Goulburn crept up to around 1,000 ML/day and gradually began to clear. By midweek there was enough visibility to fish properly through the upper sections, and by the end of the week we had fishable water all the way down below Alexandra.

That extra 600 ML/day over the winter minimum makes quite a difference. At 1,000 the river covers a lot more gravel, reconnects edges and side water and gives trout considerably more room than they have at 400. It also makes them a little less exposed and, in places, a little less nervous. I am not entirely sure how long this slightly higher flow will remain, but while it does, there are certainly opportunities there for anyone desperate to get out and have a look.

The fishing itself has been modest rather than spectacular, which is about what I would expect in the middle of September. We have taken fish on nymphs and had some interest in dries (one landed), with small, slim copper-bodied nymphs proving useful. On most sessions there have also been at least a handful of fish rising somewhere, and there are a few duns beginning to appear in dribs and drabs through the day, with some evenings showing a little more activity.

It is not boiling yet.

In truth, it is not even simmering.

But the first bubbles are starting to appear.

That is often how September feels. You can watch a pot of water for what seems like forever and nothing much happens. Then one small bubble rises from the bottom. A little later there are two or three. Then a few more. Before long the whole thing is moving and suddenly it is boiling. The river feels much the same at the moment. There are a few duns, a few rising fish, water temperatures creeping in the right direction and longer afternoons beginning to do their work. Nothing has really taken off, but for the first time this season you can see the first signs that it is about to.

The river temperature is sitting at 13.1°C with dissolved oxygen around 10 ppm. Another couple of decent high-pressure systems, a little more warmth and some stable water, and things can change surprisingly quickly. My feeling remains much the same as it does most Septembers: Grand Final weekend and beyond is where I would rather have my days in the diary.

We had another enquiry only this morning asking whether I would recommend fishing in the next week or pushing the booking back. My answer is always much the same at this time of year. If you only have one available day, go fishing. There are trout to be caught now, and at 1,000 ML/day the river is in much better shape than it is at the winter minimum. But if you have the luxury of choosing, I would save the day of annual leave for a little later. September rewards patience.

What sort of spring are we heading into?

There is plenty of local speculation about the season ahead. The current climate outlook is pointing towards a warmer and generally drier spring across our part of south-eastern Australia, with the present El Niño expected to persist into autumn next year. That does not automatically mean poor fishing. In fact, for the Goulburn it could produce some very interesting conditions.

Lake Eildon is currently at 60.7%, so we are beginning the season with a substantial amount of stored water. A warmer, drier spring should also bring terrestrial activity forward, particularly ants, beetles, grasshoppers and eventually the larger summer insects. Irrigation demand is also likely to become important as the season develops. Exactly what that means for river flows will depend on allocations, demand and water-management decisions, so I would not pretend to know in September what the Goulburn will be running at in January.

What I can say is that some of our most consistent drift-boat fishing occurs when the river settles into solid, moderate irrigation flows rather than the very highest releases. A season with extended flows somewhere in that middle range can make an enormous amount of the Goulburn accessible and productive, and from a drift-boat perspective it can often produce more consistent fishing than a season dominated by the very highest water. So there are reasons to be quietly optimistic.

The smaller rivers may be the other interesting part of this spring. If the warmer, drier pattern develops as forecast, the smaller streams may come into condition earlier than they do in a cool, wet year. The trade-off is obvious. The same streams that benefit from an early warm spring can become difficult later in January, February and March if the summer turns genuinely hot and dry. For now, though, they are worth watching and they may come alive quickly.

More boats available this season

There has also been a bit happening behind the scenes. Tony Edwards has established a base here in Alexandra and will be spending considerably more time on the Goulburn this season while continuing to guide the Tumut as well. He now has a drift boat based at each location, so if you particularly want to fish with Tony on either river, sing out.

We have also had one experienced guide become available again after a couple of years away and another tell me he can give us considerably more time this season. I will introduce them properly when everything is settled, but the important consequence is that we again have considerably more multi-boat capacity. Tony and I will be available through most of the season, and with the wider guide team we can now put together two, three and, with enough notice, four-boat days.

That opens up something we have been doing in various forms since the 1990s.

The Goulburn River Journey

For a group of friends wanting something more substantial than a single guided day, we have formalised one of the trips that has effectively been part of GVFFC since the early years. The Goulburn River Journey follows the river progressively downstream from the Eildon Pondage towards Molesworth over three or four days.

The standard group is four anglers in two drift boats, although with enough notice we can organise up to eight anglers. The idea is not simply to fish four unrelated sections of river. You travel through it. At the top, the Goulburn is colder, tighter and more obviously influenced by Lake Eildon. Farther downstream it broadens, tributaries enter, islands appear and the surrounding country changes. Eventually you reach sections below Alexandra that very few anglers ever see properly on foot.

The three-day version moves through the river more quickly, beginning each morning around where the previous day finished. I prefer the four-day version. It gives us time to overlap some water from one day to the next. You see a piece of river twice, perhaps under different light or at a different time of day. You get another chance at the fish somebody missed yesterday. You begin recognising bends and runs instead of simply passing through them.

In the 1990s we sometimes camped beside the river on these longer trips. These days we have become slightly more civilised. We pull out each evening, get everyone back to comfortable accommodation, find a decent meal and begin again the following morning. For four friends looking for a proper fishing trip without getting on an international flight, it is worth considering.

Link to the Goulburn River Journey at the bottom.

New Zealand this summer

For those who do want to get on a plane, we still have some room in Southland this coming summer. At the moment there are three weeks where we could still accommodate a complete group of four.

Our New Zealand weeks run Sunday to Sunday through January, February and March, with seven nights at Dunrobin and six full guided fishing days. Five days are fished at one guide to two anglers, and every guest now gets one full day of individual 1:1 guiding. If four friends take the available places in the same week, that week effectively becomes your own small-group trip.

There is no need to put a group together before contacting us, though. Individual anglers and pairs are equally welcome and we can usually find the right group for them.

Workshops are starting again

We also had a small workshop running this weekend. The regular beginner workshops begin properly next month and will run each month through the season.

If your own fly fishing has become a little rusty over winter, or you know somebody who has always said they would like to learn but does not know where to begin, point them our way. The workshops are two days, all the equipment is supplied, and importantly Sunday includes actual river fishing. We spend the first part building the fundamentals and then begin putting those skills to work on real water.

That distinction matters. Fly fishing makes a lot more sense when the casting, flies, currents and trout are finally all in the same place.

For now…

So for the moment, September is doing what September usually does. If you are desperate for a fish, the Goulburn at 1,000 ML/day is clear enough now to make a day worthwhile, and that extra water is certainly preferable to scratching around at the winter minimum. If you have flexibility, however, keep accumulating those brownie points.

Mow the lawn. Finish the jobs you have been promising to do. Be an exemplary husband. Be unusually productive at work. Perhaps do not mention that you are doing any of it because you are quietly banking a fishing day.

There is a cooler change moving through before conditions improve again later in the week, but the river is beginning to show those first little signs. A few duns. A few rising fish. Clearer water. Longer afternoons. Magpies swooping again.

It is a little like watching that pot of water.

For ages, apparently nothing happens. Then the first bubble rises. Then another. And another.

Before long, you look away for a moment and the whole thing is boiling.

We are not there yet. But the first bubbles are visible. After a long winter, that is enough for now.

Thanks, as always, to everyone who has supported us through the quieter months. It is very good to have some sunshine again, clear water flowing out of the lake and another trout season underway.

Tight lines.
Anthony

Goulburn Valley Fly Fishing Centre
0418 995 611
info@gvflyfishing.com

Links

Goulburn River Fishing Report

Opening Week — September 2026

The trout season has begun in fairly typical September fashion: a little chaotic, a little frustrating and with enough signs underneath it all to remind us that the good fishing is not very far away. Rain on Friday (4/9/26) afternoon and evening made a mess of the river almost immediately, with dirty water right up through the upper river below the Pondage. We deliberately stayed away from the opening-weekend circus, although we did have a boat out for a reconnaissance run. We weren’t interested in flogging the river. The idea was simply to have a look, see what had changed over winter and find out whether anybody was home.

That extra 600 ML/day over the mandated minimum makes quite a difference. At 1,000 the river covers a lot more gravel, reconnects edges and side water and gives trout considerably more room than they have at 400. It also makes them a little less exposed and, in places, a little less nervous. I am not entirely sure how long this slightly higher flow will remain, but while it does, there are certainly opportunities there for anyone desperate to get out and have a look.

The fishing itself has been modest rather than spectacular, which is about what I would expect in the middle of September. We have taken fish on nymphs and had some interest in dries, with small, slim-bodied nymphs suspended beneath a dry proving useful. On most sessions there have also been at least a handful of fish rising somewhere, and there are a few duns beginning to appear in dribs and drabs through the day, with some evenings showing a little more activity.

It is not boiling yet.

In truth, it is not even simmering.

But the first bubbles are starting to appear.

What sort of spring are we heading into?

There is plenty of speculation about the season ahead. The current climate outlook is pointing towards a warmer and generally drier spring across our part of south-eastern Australia, with the present El Niño expected to persist into autumn next year. That does not automatically mean poor fishing. In fact, for the Goulburn it could produce some very interesting conditions.

Lake Eildon is currently at 60.7%, so we are beginning the season with a substantial amount of stored water. A warmer, drier spring should also bring terrestrial activity forward, particularly ants, beetles, and eventually the larger summer insects. Irrigation demand is also likely to become important as the season develops. Exactly what that means for river flows will depend on allocations, demand and water-management decisions, so I would not pretend to know in September what the Goulburn will be running at in January.

What I can say is that some of our most consistent drift-boat fishing occurs when the river settles into solid, moderate irrigation flows rather than the very highest releases. A season with extended flows somewhere in that middle range can make an enormous amount of the Goulburn accessible and productive, and from a drift-boat perspective it can often produce more consistent fishing than a season dominated by larger variations between the higher and lower water levels. So there are reasons to be quietly optimistic.

More boats available this season

We have also had one experienced guide become available again after a couple of years away and another tell me he can give us considerably more time on the oars this season. I will introduce them properly when everything is settled, but the important consequence is that we again have considerably more multi-boat capacity. Tony and I will be available through most of the season, and with the wider guide team we can now put together two, three and, with enough notice, four-boat days.

That opens up something we have been doing in various forms since the 1990s.

The Goulburn River Journey

For a group of friends wanting something more substantial than a single guided day, we have formalised one of the trips that has effectively been part of GVFFC since the early years. The Goulburn River Journey follows the river progressively downstream from the Eildon Pondage towards Molesworth over three or four days.

New Zealand this summer

For those who do want to get on a plane, we still have some room in Southland this coming summer. At the moment there are three weeks where we could still accommodate a complete group of four.

There is no need to put a group together before contacting us, though. Individual anglers and pairs are equally welcome and we can usually find the right group for them.

You can read more by clicking the links at the bottom of this update.

Workshops are starting again

We also had a small workshop running this weekend. The regular beginner workshops begin properly next month and will run each month through the season.

If your own fly fishing has become a little rusty over winter, or you know somebody who has always said they would like to learn but does not know where to begin, point them our way. The workshops are two days, all the equipment is supplied, and importantly Sunday includes actual river fishing. We spend the first part building the fundamentals and then begin putting those skills to work on real water.

That distinction matters. Fly fishing makes a lot more sense when the casting, flies, currents and trout are finally all in the same place.

For now…

It is a little like watching that pot of water. For ages, apparently nothing happens. Then the first bubble rises. Then another. And another. Before long, you look away for a moment and the whole thing is boiling.

We are not there yet. But the first bubbles are visible. After a long winter, that is enough for now.

Thanks, as always, to everyone who has supported us through the quieter months. It is very good to have some sunshine again, clear water flowing past Alexandra and another trout season underway.

Tight lines.
Anthony

Goulburn Valley Fly Fishing Centre
0418 995 611
info@gvflyfishing.com

Yellowstone at First Light

For years, Yellowstone had been a fishing place to me. I knew it through the Lamar, Soda Butte and Slough Creek, through long days walking into isolated lakes and mornings spent searching for cutthroat in water that seemed almost too beautiful to spoil by wading. Some seasons I fished inside the park for twenty or twenty-five days. In others, only five or six. Either way, it was always one of the high points of the trip. I knew where to stop, where to walk, which stretches were worth the effort and which roads would be clogged by midmorning. I knew which valleys held their cold longest, where the bison tended to gather, and how quickly a quiet roadside pullout could become impossible once the traffic began.

I had spent first light in the Lamar Valley with a long lens, tripod and teleconverters, scanning the hillsides for bears and wolves before turning my attention back to the rivers. Wildlife had always been part of Yellowstone for me, but usually as an opening act. Once the light strengthened, the camera went away, the rod came out and the day reorganised itself around water. I thought I knew Yellowstone.

This time, I was seeing it through my children. We had been moving through the park and the surrounding country for almost two weeks. We entered first from the south, after driving through Grand Teton National Park and stopping at Schwabacher Landing, where my wife and I had been married years earlier. We stood there again with our children beneath the same mountains, looking across the water towards the Tetons. The scene was familiar, but not in the way I expected. Memory had held it still. Life had not.

Returning with the children changed the place. It was no longer simply the backdrop to an earlier part of our lives. The four of us were standing inside the same landscape years later, trying to reconcile memory with the people we had become. There is something strange about returning to a place that has carried such importance in your mind. You expect it to unlock the earlier version of yourself, but it rarely does. The mountains are still there. The reflections still gather in the same water. What has changed is the person looking at them. My wife and I were no longer the couple who had stood there alone. We had arrived with two nearly grown children, each seeing the place without the weight of our memories. To them, it was simply beautiful. To us, it was beautiful and crowded with time.

Nearby, we visited Jenny Lake and the overlook above the Snake River, then spent time hiking in the country between Jackson and Victor. Later, we drove around and entered Yellowstone through West Yellowstone, beginning a more familiar circuit through Old Faithful, Grand Prismatic, Yellowstone Lake, Hayden Valley and the canyon. The children were interested in the fact that we were driving inside a volcano. As we moved through the park, I tried to explain the caldera, pointing out sections of its rim and showing them on Google Maps and paper maps. It is one thing to tell someone that Yellowstone sits inside one of the largest volcanic systems on earth. It is another to show them that they have been driving across it for hours without reaching the other side.

The scale is difficult to comprehend because the landscape does not present itself as a single crater. It arrives as forests, rivers, lakes, valleys, geysers and long roads. You pass through it piece by piece, never quite able to hold the whole thing in your head. I explained the magma chamber, the ancient eruptions and the continuing movement beneath the ground. I pointed towards steaming hillsides and mineral terraces and tried to make the invisible machinery beneath us feel real. They listened, asked questions and then, quite often, fell asleep. That became part of the rhythm of the trip. I would begin explaining some geological or historical detail with the confidence of a man delivering essential information, glance into the rear-view mirror and find both children asleep against the windows.

Our mornings began at four. To see Yellowstone properly in summer, you need to move before most people have left their beds. By first light, we were already in Hayden Valley, binoculars raised, searching the slopes and timber edges for grizzly bears. At that hour, the roads were quiet and the park still belonged largely to the animals. The light arrived slowly across the valley floor. Bison moved through the grass, and every dark shape near the timber demanded a second look through the binoculars. The mind begins playing tricks in country like that. A stump becomes a bear. A shadow becomes a wolf. A distant bison lying in the grass can occupy ten minutes of serious discussion before finally standing up and resolving the matter.

The forecasts had suggested temperatures in the mid-thirties, but we were fortunate. Most days remained overcast and rarely climbed beyond the high twenties. The cooler conditions kept the animals active for longer and gave us more time before the heat, traffic and crowds began to take over. At first light, the park felt almost empty. We walked along raised timber boardwalks above steaming mud and mineral-stained ground with barely another person in sight. The smell of sulphur hung over everything, sometimes so strong it turned the stomach. Steam moved across the path in slow sheets, briefly hiding the landscape before lifting again. The ground hissed, bubbled and breathed beneath us.

There are few places where the earth feels so visibly unfinished. The surface looks temporary, a thin crust stretched over heat and pressure. Water appears in impossible colours. Mud boils. Fumaroles breathe. Entire hillsides seem to be decomposing in front of you. The boardwalks are there for good reason. Wander a few steps in the wrong direction and what looks like solid ground may be little more than a fragile lid over boiling water.

Our first close bison encounter came near one of those thermal areas. It moved beside the boardwalk with the complete indifference of an animal that had seen thousands of people and been impressed by none of them. The size of a bison is difficult to appreciate until one is close. Photographs flatten them. From only a short distance away, the weight of the shoulders, the thickness of the skull and the quiet authority with which they move become impossible to ignore. There is no hurry in them. They move as though the rest of the world will make way, which, generally, it does.

Later, we watched them walk between stopped vehicles, bringing traffic to a standstill while people leaned from windows and held up their phones. Some got out and moved far closer than any sensible person should. That part of Yellowstone never changes. The wildlife is extraordinary. The human response to it can be equally remarkable, though not always for the same reason. Every year, people are warned to keep their distance. Every year, someone seems to interpret a bison standing beside the road as an invitation to move closer for a better photograph.

The children loved the bison, elk, deer and the few moose we managed to find. They slept between sites, waking when something appeared beside the road or when we reached the next stop. Their days developed a rhythm of early excitement, midmorning exhaustion and sudden revival whenever an animal came into view. For me, the pleasure was not simply in seeing these things again. It was watching them see them for the first time. There is a particular expression children have when something exceeds whatever picture they had formed in their minds. It is not quite surprise. It is recognition mixed with disbelief. The animal, mountain or geyser is suddenly real, but larger and stranger than expected.

Before this trip, Yellowstone had been organised around opportunity. Which river was fishing well? Where were the cutthroat rising? How early could I reach the second meadow without running into a bear? There were still fish, of course, but they fitted around everything else. This time, the park itself was the point.

If we happened to pass a river and saw fish rising, it did not take long to pull over. I could be out of the car in shorts and sandals, vest on, net in one hand and rod in the other. I might catch a few fish and be back on the road within half an hour. Those brief sessions had their own appeal. There was no time to overthink them. You saw a rise, found somewhere safe to pull over and stepped into the river with whatever you already had rigged. A few casts, perhaps a cutthroat or two, and then the vest came off, the rod went back in the car and the journey continued.

There is a freedom in fishing without trying to build a day around it. You accept the water as you find it. There is no pressure to solve everything, no need to stay until the last rise. You are simply passing through and lucky enough to be holding a rod when something happens. There were also a handful of more serious sessions, when the fishing became the purpose and we walked some distance from the road to reach quieter water. For the most part, though, it happened only when it fitted comfortably with the rest of the day. That was new for me. In other years, everything else had been arranged around the temperament of trout.

There is something special about standing in a river in Yellowstone, especially with your family nearby. It feels different from fishing with a mate who understands the country, knows the risks and is responsible for himself. When your children are with you in bear country, your attention stretches well beyond the water. You look over your shoulder more often. You listen harder. You notice the wind, the timber behind you, the smell of the air and any movement along the bank. All the senses seem to sharpen at once.

Bear encounters are not as common as people imagine, and bear spray, sound judgement and knowing how to respond make the risk manageable. But none of that entirely silences the older, more instinctive part of the brain that keeps rehearsing the worst possible outcome. You begin calculating distances without meaning to. How far are the children from the car? Which direction is the wind carrying our scent? How thick is the timber behind us? Where is the bear spray? Is it still clipped where it should be? It heightens the fishing rather than diminishing it. The current against your legs, the rise of a cutthroat, the sound of water over stone and the knowledge that you are standing in a genuinely wild place all seem more vivid. It makes you feel intensely alive.

We also did the things I had often passed by. We sat on bar stools and ate a classic American breakfast in one of the tourist places near Old Faithful. There were eggs, bacon, coffee and the familiar low hum of travellers discussing routes, weather and what they hoped to see. We waited for geysers, walked among thermal basins and stood with everyone else above the canyon and waterfalls. In other years, those places had often been something to move past on the way to a river. This time, we allowed them to become destinations in their own right.

Old Faithful is easy to dismiss because everyone knows it. Its eruption times are predicted, the seating fills and hundreds of cameras are raised before anything happens. Yet when the water finally surges into the air, it is still extraordinary. The familiarity of an image does not make the real thing ordinary. The same was true of the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone. I had seen it before, photographed it and passed through with fishing gear waiting in the car. Standing there with the children, with no immediate need to hurry elsewhere, I understood how often purpose can narrow a place. You see what you came to see and overlook the rest. None of it was new to the world, but much of it was new to us as a family.

By ten in the morning, the park began to change. The empty boardwalks filled. Cars appeared from every direction. By the time we reached Grand Prismatic, we had to park hundreds of metres away and walk back towards the access points with crowds moving in both directions. The difference between dawn and late morning was extraordinary. Only a few hours earlier, we had been walking through thermal country with barely another person in sight. Now every car park was full, the roads were slowing and the quiet of the morning had been replaced by doors slamming, engines idling and people trying to work out where to go next.

At first light, Yellowstone feels enormous. By midday, it can feel strangely confined. A single animal beside the road can stop traffic for kilometres. One full car park pushes vehicles onto the shoulder, then farther along the road, until the landscape begins to look less like wilderness and more like an event everyone has arrived late for. When we left through West Yellowstone around midday, the line of incoming vehicles stretched from the entrance, through the traffic lights in town and beyond its outskirts. It was difficult to look at that line and imagine it as sustainable forever.

Still it remains one of the most extraordinary places on earth, but it is becoming increasingly clear that a place can be loved too much. Not through neglect or indifference, but through the sheer number of people who want to experience it. We were part of that number. My family had every right to see the park, just as the people waiting in those cars did. That is what makes the problem so difficult.

It is easy to complain about crowds when you are already inside the gate. It is easy to imagine that your reasons for being there are somehow more legitimate than everyone else’s. The angler believes he understands the rivers. The photographer believes he rises earlier and behaves better. The family has crossed the world to be there. The retired couple may have waited their whole lives. Everyone has a reason.

The challenge is not keeping people away. It is finding a way to let them in without slowly destroying the very experience they have come to find. Perhaps the answer begins with time: earlier mornings, longer stays, shuttle systems, fewer cars in the most congested places, and a willingness to accept that some landscapes cannot absorb unlimited access simply because demand exists.

Perhaps it also begins with the visitor. Move earlier. Stay longer. Walk farther. Give animals space. Accept that not every sight needs to be approached, photographed or converted into proof. Let other people experience the place without becoming part of their experience.

At dawn, those ideas feel possible. The roads are empty. Steam moves across the boardwalks. Bison graze without an audience. For a brief hour or two, Yellowstone appears untouched by the pressure gathering beyond the entrances. Then the sun rises, the cars arrive and the spell begins to thin.

That may be why first light has become the Yellowstone I remember most clearly from this trip. Not simply because the animals were active or the roads were quiet, but because it allowed us to see the park before it became an attraction again.

For years, Yellowstone had been a fishing place to me. This time, fishing became one small part of something larger. I still remember the cutthroat rising, the rivers slipping through meadow country and the familiar pull of wanting to stop at every piece of likely water. But I remember just as clearly the children waking when a bison appeared beside the road, standing again with my wife beneath the Tetons, steam crossing an empty boardwalk and four of us driving through the caldera before sunrise.

I had thought I knew Yellowstone because I knew its rivers. It took my family to show me how much of it I had been passing by.