I did something out of character yesterday. After a particularly tricky winter I’ve had a bit of a falling out with my local stretch of the Wharfe, and when I rolled out of bed early on Sunday morning, the prospect of another tedious expedition combing the water in the hope of a solitary grayling was…… Continue reading Frosty Success.
If I’m totally honest, I really don’t like fly fishing for grayling in winter. Standing waist deep in frigid flows for hours at a time dragging heavy bugs along the bottom is dour, torturous work. Besides, I’m not awfully good at it either, so while a more gifted or perceptive angler may fill his boots…… Continue reading Fluke.
Someone, presumably a lunatic, once said that in order to fully appreciate nature one must experience it in its best and worst weather, and it was these questionable words I held at the front of my mind on Christmas Eve as I trudged grimly along the river. I had no business being there. Since October…… Continue reading Into The Storm