flee

flee

Tuesday, 17 January 2012

Was I asking too much?

Yesterday I had the pleasure of swapping my Edgar Sealey Cane Rod and Centre pin for a Purdey Over & Under 12 Bore, My friend and myself had the pleasure of a wander around an estate that he does some work for and managed some good sport, whilst there I got chatting to some of the locals and told them of my intentions of fishing the river today and many gave me looks of disbelief and even heard a few murmurs of The boys not right in the heed!
As I drew back the covers at 8am I knew it was cold I could feel it in the air but nevertheless I was fishing the river this morning after the ladies. As I defrosted the car the thermometer said -6, but it was a dry morning with a definite crispness in the air. As we arrived at the river we could see that it was very low, crystal clear and a lot of the river had became bunged up with floating sheets of ice which was coming  down the river in vast quantities, things were not looking good!

After an hour of constantly being clobbered in the back by these floating sheets of ice, having to clear the ice forming from the rings of my rod and the ice which had taken fancy to my line and making it look like a tow rope, I hooked into my first fish, a small Grayling which  I could not have been more happier to see as I thought it was going to be a blank day.

With more faith now knowing that there were fish there I felt a bit more confident in myself and continued to fish on and it wasn't long before the float dipped under again, this time something with a bit more muscle, an out of season Scottish Brownie.




 By this time my back was aching from the constant onslaught of sheets of ice and in need of some refreshments we called a halt to fishing but some passers by called it something else as we stood on the bridge admiring the ice flows with a hot coffee in hand.

There was only an hour of fishing left before we had to call it a day as I had to get back and pack the car for our journey home so round 2 into the ice cold waters we went.

Nothing for almost the full hour and just as we were about to call it a day the float dipped under again and there was a fish on, this time I knew it was a Lady they way she turned and twisted and sure enough the river had rewarded me for my efforts with a nice Grayling.
 

I have to say this was without doubt the hardest fishing session I have had for a long time, but one I will remember for a while.

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