Grayling fishing | Pickering Beck

You win some, you lose some


Fed up with failing on the fly I slunk up to Pickering with half a pint of maggots and a trotting rod. A splendid winter’s afternoon with a watery sun and most of the frost burned off. The river looked in nice nick:

I tooled around for an hour without a touch. While I was fiddling with some tackle I took a step and heard an ominous crack:

Bloody amateur, that’s what I am.

Anyway, the bore of snapping the landing net handle was ameliorated somewhat when the float disappeared and this was on the end:

I foul-hooked a much nicer one but got it back in the water asap without taking a pic. A score draw then. Sort of.

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    1. haha true Matt. the period of grieving would have been considerably longer…

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