The guides were waiting for us when our Icelandair flight from the regional airport in Reykjavik touched down at northern Iceland’s airport in Akureyri.

The guides, provided by Iceland Fishing Guide, would transport us to the Arnes Lodge where we’d get our room assignments and drop off our duffle bags full of gear. We’d then suit up in our waders, grab our 6-weight dry fly rods and maybe a nymphing rod, and head out to fish the “evening” shift, which runs roughly from 4 to 10 p.m. After the fishing, we’d return to the lodge for dinner and hit the sack while it was still light outside. That’s summer in Iceland.

The fishing shifts were reminiscent of a trip I made to Argentina where we fished the mornings, came back to the lodge for lunch, took a siesta and fished a late shift after which we returned for dinner.

We stopped for lunch in Akureyri and made a quick stop at the liquor store (the lodge doesn’t provide alcohol) before the one-hour drive to the lodge.

At the lodge, we settled in quickly, uncased and assembled our fly rods, geared up with all the other necessities for fishing the evening shift and were assigned a guide.

Our guide, Valdimar Halldorsson, told Dale Coy and me we’d be fishing the Presthrammur beat of the Laxa River. “Vald’s” last name and the name of the beat we’d fish were my introduction to the world of long, hard-to-spell and unpronounceable Icelandic words. He advised us to dress warmly because we’d be wading deep. I took his advice and put my long johns on under my fleece pants. I also added an expedition-weight fleece top under my shirt and grabbed a jacket to be left in the truck for backup

It’s difficult to describe how wide the Laxa is at the Presthrammur beat. The current was barely discernible from the high bank where we parked the truck. It looked more like a lake. The beat is renowned not only for Atlantic salmon fishing, but also for one of the strongest brown trout populations in the country.Our Iceland visit was timed for a chance to fish for brown trout rising to dry flies, but we also had a chance at Atlantic salmon that were just coming into the rivers. For those wanting to travel farther north to the Arctic Circle there would be shots at Arctic Char and sea run brown trout. I was drawn to the trip specifically to catch brown trout on the dry fly, but understood that nymphing and streamer techniques would also be productive.

Before we walked down to the river Vladimar pointed out a series of long glassy slicks in the river.

“This is where the trout will be,” he said. He pointed out a rock about halfway across the river and said we can fish the slicks out to the rock. I was thinking that rock is pretty far out there, and assembled my wading staff.

The river bottom was solid with occasional lava rocks as I waded out to the first slick. Vladimar suggested we start off nymphing and switch to dry flies when we see rising trout. Dale caught and released the first trout using a modified euro-nymphing setup. I stuck with a strike indicator nymphing rig. I hadn’t caught a trout yet when Vladimar waded over to me and pointed out a few rising trout. He suggested we try them and switched out my nymphs and strike indicator for the famous Icelandic dry fly known as the Galdralopp. It’s tied on a #12 or #14 hook with a short red 8mm diameter foam cylinder tied in at the bend of the hook. The body is black wool or Ice Dub with a brown palmer hackle. He said it doesn’t represent anything in “the nature,” but the trout can’t resist it. He was right. I caught a chunky 15-inch brown trout right off.

Before we finished fishing, Dale and I both had to go back to the truck to put on more clothes. The combination of wading in chest-high, cold Icelandic water took it out of us. By the time I cried out “No more,” I was shivering in a kind of pre-hypothermic jig.

Before the trip was over, I fished the Laxa in Adaldal (The Big Laxa) Hraun Beat, the Myrarkvisl river, and the Reykjadalsa. The Myrarkvisl and Reykjadalsa are smaller rivers with great nymphing opportunities and hatches of tiny chironomid midges and that, at times, provided decent dry fly fishing.

There had been an historic, late-season snowstorm a few weeks before we arrived in Iceland. When the snow melted into the rivers it cooled them and slowed down the dry fly action a bit, but the nymphing and streamer fishing was good every day.

Observing the bird life in Iceland filled in the few times when the fishing slowed. Many species of shorebirds were nesting during our stay. The Arctic terns busied themselves dive-bombing us to warn us off their nests.

Nick Conklin, the Temple Fork Outfitters Fly Product Category manager, who came along on the trip to fish and showcase some of TFO’s rods, commented at the end of an especially good day of fishing that it wasn’t likely any of us would be giving away Iceland’s fishing secrets because we couldn’t spell or pronounce any of the river names.

That’s probably true, but we’ll all remember a special trout or two that we caught and released.

For more information, contact Iceland Fishing Guide (icelandfishingguide.com). The service is a family-owned business established in 2009 by Matthias Por Hakonarson (Matti). It’s a full-service guide service that can help you plan your trip, provide fishing licenses and a skilled fly fishing guide. In addition, the service operates lodges where anglers can stay during their fishing trips.