Quick note before we start:
- What I cover: where I fished, what I used, what I caught, good and not so good, and a few tips I wish I knew.
First glance… wow
The first time I stood at Balmaha, the water looked like glass. Then a breeze showed up. Ripples. A little chop. It changes fast on Loch Lomond. Big sky. Tall hills. Boats bobbing like little toys. I felt small, in a good way.
I came to fish pike, trout, and maybe a salmon if I got lucky. I wasn’t trying to be a hero. I just wanted one good fish and a story that stuck. For an even deeper dive into my tactics and results, you can peek at this extended hands-on Loch Lomond fishing write-up I put together after a later session.
Permits and the boring bit (that matters)
I grabbed my permit through the Lomond angling group folks — you can sort yours in advance via their membership portal to skip any faff on the day. Paid, signed, kept it in a zip bag. The rules are clear by the water. No messing about. Some parts need extra care. Seasons matter. If you want to read them line by line, the full angling and camping byelaws lay everything out. If you’re not sure, ask at a local tackle shop in Alexandria or Balloch. They’ll set you straight in two minutes, and you’ll leave with fresh hooks and a smile. Travelling up from the capital? My notes on making the hop from Edinburgh to Loch Lomond cover trains, buses, and the quickest car routes.
Where I actually fished
- Balmaha and the islands (Inchmurrin and Inchmoan): boat days
- Luss pier and beaches: easy shore sessions
- Rowardennan to Milarrochy Bay: drifts for trout
- Endrick Mouth: when the river was up and brown after rain
I rented a small boat at Balmaha. Simple tiller outboard. Life jacket on. Spare oar in the boat. I launched on a calm morning and stayed close to shore when the wind picked up. That wind turns fun into “nope” real fast.
If you’d prefer a guided paddle or need to rent kit, the folks at Can You Experience are based right on the loch and make the whole process painless.
My setup, plain and simple
- Pike: 9 ft spinning rod, 30 lb braid, wire trace, big soft shads (green perch pattern), and a couple jerkbaits
- Trout: 10 ft 7-weight fly rod, floating line, flies like Kate McLaren and Peter Ross
- Perch and roach: light spinning rod, small float, size 6–10 hooks, and worms
- Tools: big landing net, long-nose pliers, unhooking mat, and forceps
- Clothing: waders, a hat, and Smidge for the midges (trust me)
Real days, real fish
You can stack the tales below against those in another honest first-person Loch Lomond fishing review — same loch, totally different mood swings.
The pike that made my hands shake
Early May. Cloud cover. Water a bit stained. I drifted beside Inchmurrin, near a weed edge I could see in 8–10 feet. I cast a 15 cm soft shad in a green perch pattern. Slow pull. Pause. Tick. Then—bang.
The fish ran hard. It stayed deep and sulked, then rolled once. I saw the back and thought, “Please stay on.” Net felt heavy. She went 19 lb on my sling. Broad head. Clean. I took a quick photo, held her till she kicked, and let her go. I sat down and just laughed. You know what? That fish carried me for weeks.
Perch fun at Luss
One warm June evening, the loch was calm and midges were having a feast. I set a small float rig near the pier. A worm on a size 8 hook. Two split shots. First cast—tap, tap, gone. Little perch. Then a fat one, maybe a pound, with tiger stripes. I kept two for dinner and let the rest swim off. A wee kid watched and asked for a turn. He caught one too. Big grins. That’s how you make an angler.
Trout drift near Rowardennan
Wind from the south. I let the boat drift and cast a Kate McLaren on the top dropper and a Peter Ross on the tail. Short pulls. Pause. The take came like a nip on the line. A 2 lb brown trout, butter yellow with red spots. Simple joy. It took the Peter Ross. I bled that one for the pan. That night, I cooked it with lemon, butter, and a pinch of salt. It tasted clean, like cold water and spring.
The salmon I didn’t land (and the one I watched)
September rain pushed the Endrick up. The water went tea brown. I swung an Ally’s Shrimp on a light sink tip. Step, cast, swing. Nothing. Then one strong wrench and a bright boil. The hook held for five seconds, maybe seven, then nothing. I stared at the water and said some words I won’t type.
A man upstream landed a bar of silver on a copper tube fly. About 12 lb. We cheered for him. That’s fishing—your turn, my turn, maybe not today.
Good things I loved
- Variety: pike, perch, trout, salmon—one loch, many moods
- Access: shore spots at Luss, Balmaha, and lay-bys with short walks
- Local help: shop folks shared tips that actually worked
- Food: a hot bacon roll from the Oak Tree Inn after a cold start? Yes, please
Not so good (but fair)
- Wind builds fast; the loch gets rough and weirdly bouncy
- Midges in summer will test your soul—bring spray and a head net
- You’ll blank some days, even with good gear
- Parking fills up at Luss and Balmaha on sunny weekends
If all that sounds a bit too wild, I once swapped Scottish gales for Lake Loch Lomond in Bella Vista, Arkansas. Same name, blue-bird weather, and a week of laid-back fishing that felt like another planet.
Little tips I wish I knew sooner
- Check weather twice: morning and midday. If whitecaps show, tuck in or get off.
- Wire trace for pike, always. And crush barbs if you can. Your thumbs will thank you.
- Keep a tidy boat. Hooks under your feet ruin a day.
- Early and late light help. June sunrise is wild early, but it pays.
- Bring a spare set of dry socks. Sounds silly. It’s not.
- For kids, go perch with floats. Quick wins build love.
- Respect the seasons and rules. If you’re unsure, ask locals.
While you’re sitting on the bank killing time between bites, chances are you’ll be firing off a few texts and photos of your “monster” catch to friends or a partner. If you’d like those messages to go beyond a simple fish selfie, this straightforward beginner’s guide to sexting explains how to keep things playful, get clear consent, and add a little sizzle to your updates without ever crossing a line.
And if all that playful banter leaves you craving in-person company—especially for anglers who shuttle between Scottish waters and business trips near Chicago—you might appreciate the curated options listed at Carol Stream escorts where you can arrange discreet, friendly companionship that turns an ordinary layover into a memory as satisfying as landing a trophy fish.
Gear notes that stood out
- A 15 cm green or gold soft shad got more pike than my flashy jerkbaits
- Mepps size 2–3 spinners found perch fast when I needed them
- Kate McLaren on top, Peter Ross on the tail—great drift team on a choppy day
- Smidge kept me sane when the air went still and buzzy
Safety—say it again
Life jacket on the boat, no debate. I carry a throw line and a phone in a dry bag. One day, I turned back at Rowardennan because the wind pinned me. It felt lame, then right. The loch will be there tomorrow.
Final take: would I go back?
Yes. A loud yes. Loch Lomond isn’t easy, but it’s honest. It gives you what you earn. Some days it’s quiet. Some days it roars. But when that float dips or that line pulls deep, the whole place lights up. I still think