05/12/2019 - Grayling time again!

I really enjoyed those two sessions on the River Soar at the end of September. There's something really satisfying about going back to basics and catching what most people would consider "tiddlers". For those of us not born into an era of matching carp outfits and waters stuffed with enough idiot fish to make you an instant "expert", it's where we started and learned our craft and it's what I find myself hankering after more and more as I get older - plus I can't be arsed to carry the same amount of gear around that I used to!

However, I failed to wet a line in freshwater again for two whole months, the obvious reason being the weather. No sooner had the local rivers started dropping when the next weather front came barrelling in and we were back to square one. It was a relief when December brought with it a period of cold but dry, settled conditions that allowed river levels to return to somewhere near normal. Early Thursday morning therefore saw me heading East into Staffordshire with one species on my mind.

Arrived at the venue at first light and got togged up in my neoprenes before squelching over the still-waterlogged fields, burdened only by my float rod, landing net and small bag of bits. The river was low and clear and I could see that some more "remodelling" had been done in my absence by the recent floods, with one of more unusual pieces of flood debris being a very wet and bedraggled ogre!

Sneaking into the top swim I was soon watching the blaze orange tip of my float being tugged at by the boils and eddies as I allowed it to search its way down through the pool. Second or third trot down it disappeared and my strike was met with the familiar thumping and banging of a hooked grayling that had been tricked into taking the single, red maggot.

Had a couple more grayling out of the swim before saying goodbye to Shrek and moving on downstream, pausing to look at the various animal movements recorded in the newly exposed mud. Once again it was a case of dropping into all the familiar spots (and some not-so-familiar ones, newly-created by the floods) in order to try and locate the fish. I had thought that the recent conditions might have shaken them up a bit and this seemed to be the case as I struggled to catch in normally prolific swims, just winkling out the odd fish here and there. By the time I got to end of the section a few hours later I certainly felt that I'd worked very hard for my 18 grayling and solitary brownie.

Back at the car I found that another angler had arrived after me. Spotted him walking across the field in the gloom, so waited to have a chat. Whilst he'd been fishing the fly, he too had struggled, with just half a dozen fish to show for his efforts. Made me think that they'd not really been in the mood rather than anything else, but it had been good to get the first grayling trip of the winter under my belt. Simple pleasures!