Driving a few hundred miles up the road to Scotland to England I managed to see first hand the countryside changing to one covered with snow. The borders were probably the worst and the news went on about people being trapped in cars and only to travel if absolutely necessary. However that was a few days ago now and most of the snow has now disappeared and that is the problem – it will all have gone straight into the rivers meaning a distinct lack of grayling action. Armed with this info when I was asked by the gruesome twosome Alex and Alan if I wanted to accompany them for some grayling action I decided to stay in my bed. There is always a danger in doing this as days where you think everything might go wrong can possibly turn out to be fantastic however I decided to go with my instincts and got out of bed at a leisurely 1030.
Turns out I was spot on – I gave them a bell in the afternoon “oh sure” said Alan “I have just had two, combined weight around 2lb” Yegads, I thought, my highly tuned anglers sense has let me down (not for the first time have I cursed that flabby muscle) should I immediately start planning a drive up to a local grayling haunt. However, it turns out they were merely pulling my leg, after arriving at the river to find a flood of biblical proportions they turned around (a round trip of almost 200 miles) and ended up at Harelaw. They are obviously of sturdier stuff than me; I would have probably suggested a light pub lunch and a discussion of tactics for this coming year.