I just thought I’d remind myself as to what grayling look like. A visit to the Test then the Avon has proved them to be somewhat illusive.
So what happened to all the glorious cover that was the ranunculus I doth wonder?
If they weren’t trying to kill each other like this pair (and one of them actually did), they were swanning (ha!) up and down the river causing total mayhem… all told we counted 28 of the blighters.
The result of which, and by getting any where near to but a sniff of a fish saw it dart in every direction and in doing so spook every other it cared to encounter.
Then there’s that yolk of an egg in the sky, barely did it get above the tree line to offer any hope of minimising our woes so as to avoid us casting long shadows over the water, water of which we couldn’t physically get away from.
Not a man to shun a challenge, Tony’s perseverance is tested yet rewarded to a fish having cunningly spotted a shoal lingering in the channel off the apex of a sweeping bend.
Beggars can’t be choosers, just to have hooked into a fish thus far was great, all be it a trout.
Nothing was coming quick or easy. Lot’s of walking & stalking… I exaggerate by saying ‘stalking’ as there was little visible to actually stalk. Tony’s carbon bending moments were pretty much restricted to fast pools where depth and cover seemed a likely lie to otherwise baron glides.
Tony bends into an absolute lunker on a silver quill nymph for a minute or two before the fly was discarded in distain from said resident.
Moving swiftly through deeper pools proved successful if only but for fleeting takes to our fly before…
…that damn egg in the sky at last drew a veil on what was a disappointing grayling-less afternoon
Today with Simon. The intention was to spend a glorious afternoon on Broadfield, unfortunately Jack Frost had other ideas, at an inch thick and but for a small open plot kept clear by Coots there was not a hope of fishing any of the 3 lakes.
So to the murky and still brimming Avon as an alternative. A river that’s seen better days, and one that’s regressing for the fly angler as each season passes. Although it’s our first meeting, Simon and I are both members so share the concern.
We’d spent a few hours looking at his cast initially, some tracking, hauling and presentation stuff before deciding to get in and see if the water was as cold as it looked for the last few hours or so.
Holy mother, how cold?… Simon chilling his nads trying to pluck a fish from a usually fruitful chub lie
The river almost lifeless and with enough shot weight to stun a charging rhino we hoped for the best.
Stone me, and with the changing of the guard which in this case was a #16 beaded pink bug, a fish comes to the second cast, leaping and thrashing we’re surprised to see a lovely but pale looking trout. How it warmed thy cockles if only but for a minute or two.
Why not hold this fish under water and I’ll see if we can capture it before your fingers turn blue?
Simons first ever fish from the river, and my first experience of having seen a trout, let alone caught one so far downstream on this stretch of club water… fingers crossed there’s a change a comin’
Look forward to seeing you again in early March Simon. This time on a river with something in it.
As the forecast suggests that’ll probably be the last of the fishing for the remainder of this week and the weekend. More rain unfortunately, as if we needed it.
Especially looking forward to early next week and viewing an amazing stretch of the Lambourn… nice!
Enjoy your weekend and fishing should the opportunity arise ~ Jim