Tonight I was swiping absentmindedly through photographs on my phone as I often do, when I faltered on a handful of shots from last September: pictures of a tiny, boulder strewn Cumbrian beck. Unassuming in appearance, but possessing a wild, intimate beauty, and, as it transpired, a plucky population of beautiful wild trout. Immediately I…… Continue reading Scaled Down.
Ten more days. Ten more tedious days until the trout season opens here in Yorkshire, and I am free once again to set about tangling leaders and missing takes. The beginning of the season is typically a leaden affair, notable mainly for its distinct lack of fish. The river is cold, hatches are fleeting and,…… Continue reading Early Start.