I've probably said before that grayling are my favourite fish and normally the majority of my time over the winter is spent in their pursuit. I would argue that there isn't a prettier freshwater fish in the UK, with their slender, tapered silver bodies turning to pewter as they get older and bigger, the unique pattern of lines of spots, the delicately striped fins with shades of purple and violet, the large, tear drop-shaped eye and, of course, the crimson and orange, sail-like dorsal fin of the males.
Having only managed just a couple of short sessions so far this season due to all the rain we've been having I was suffering from withdrawal symptoms and in need of a fix.
With the rivers eventually starting to fine down to a fishable level I therefore loaded up the car nice and early and headed west on the A50 into Staffordshire, the rising sun a red disc in the rearview mirror.
Ahead of me the Dove valley was shrouded in mist and at one stage the temperature dipped to 1 degree Centigrade! However, when I reached my destination the sun was starting to burn through the gloom and it promised to be a fantastic day. The river looked in good nick as well, with the gravels clearly visible off the bridge. Squeezed into the chest waders and made my way upstream to the first swim. The club only has a short section of river here and there are only really a couple of spots suitable for trotting in the winter, but having never seen another club member there I fully expected to have it to myself anyway. Therefore sat for a bit trickling in a few maggots whilst waiting for the sun to climb a bit higher before sliding down the bank into the river.
Sent two maggots on a size 16 Kamasan widegape on their way under the Avon hoping for a first cast fish. A modest grayling duly obliged and I was off the mark, in fact the next six trots down all produced a fish, including a couple of handsome but out of season brownies.
Things calmed down a bit after that and I got into a rythhm of trotting and loosefeeding. By 10 o'clock I was bathed in full sunshine and felt like the proverbial pig in shit, not only enjoying the fishing but just being out in the wilds enjoying the surroundings with a dipper and a grey wagtail to keep me company.
When the bites eventually died away to nothing I moved down to the other swim and started again. Fished that spot out and then went back to the car for some much-needed scram, having had 28 grayling, including a cracking male of 1lb 6oz, and 12 nuisance brownies. By now it was 2 o'clock and I had a decision to make - try the swims again having given them a rest or go somewhere else. In the end I opted for the latter and headed further downstream to Tutbury. In hindsight I should have stayed where I was because I struggled to find any fish and was only able to add another three grayling to the tally, although one of these was another nice male. Did have a bit of excitement in my final swim. Had just bumped a fish and decided to have one last cast before packing up. When the float disappeared at the end of the run I struck and nearly had the rod pulled out of my hands as a massive trout jumped about three feet in the air before hitting the water like a brick!
By some miracle I still found myself attached and hanging on for grim death as it shot downstream. However, no sooner had the thought "I'll be lucky to land this" flashed across my mind the fish suddenly turned upstream and started swimming towards me faster than I could get line back on the centrepin. When I managed to take up the slack I found everything had gone solid mid-river, the line possibly caught around some debris on the bottom. Tried everything to try and get it free but suspected that the fish was long gone anyway and had to pull for a break. Oh well, another one to add to the list of tales of "the one that got away" to bore the wife and kids witless. Despite having had a fantastic morning I was feeling a bit deflated when I got to back to the car.
However, that didn't last long as I was treated to a fantastic starling murmuration over the coffee factory at Hatton and a stop at the chippie rounded off the day nicely. Hopefully be out again at the weekend.
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