Yesterday I felt the need for a Grayling trip and knowing how quickly the last weeks of the season can pass I was soon heading up the motorway to a little urban river I found a few seasons back, after scraping the ice off the car of course, no Grayling trip would be complete without that.
The river greeted me much lower than last time and whilst the water was gin clear and looked drinkable the obvious signs of the urban environment suggested this wouldn't be a good idea. It seemed dirtier than two seasons ago and with a certain brand of beer can left on the bank I feared the fishing was going to be hard, thankfully however I was soon into the fish and the first 'lady' was in the net.
Although every bit the lady in appearance the Grayling were more like Whirling Dervishes as they boiled on the surface hitting my feed, so much so that nothing much was caught when running through full depth. Fishing dead shallow was hard due to the speed of the bites so the best compromise was trotting three quarter depth holding back hard, this coupled with a really light float 'wafted' the bait and the tight line resulted in many a fish, with not many lost too which is always good.
Working my way downstream catching fish in every spot I needed a sit down so just plopped down in swim that was comfortable but dead shallow, I would have walked past it were it not for my aching knee but I figured I'd whittle out a few more here in comfort then have lunch. First handful of maggots were smashed by a shoal of Grayling that seemingly came out of nowhere, they were all around a pound and a half so all thoughts of lunch were put on hold - just a couple more casts!
These fish were joined by a good sized Trout and were feeding with reckless abandon given that I was right on top of them and in full view, I couldn't imagine a shoal of chub or dace being this carefree and so it was that one after the other found it's way to the net. Soon Mr Trout was on which was inevitable but what wasn't was it wrapping me around a tree on the opposite bank after I almost had it beat, a dead weight drifting across the fast water with ease. Whilst trout wasn't the quarry no one likes loosing a good fish so I did think how jammy I am at times when it came free and graced the net. I don't mind catching good Trout now and then, (ssshhh don't tell anyone) especially urban survivors over 5lb, a stunning long brown fish that was returned to fight again.
I wanted to get a few more Grayling before stumps but had a nasty kink by the reel so it was now time for a bit of Tenkara style fishing with the line tied to the bottom ring and the reel packed away. I used to do this as a kid when I knew there was no big fish about and is great fun. The Grayling in the fast water were something else however, hitting my freelined maggot almost on the surface, especially when I managed to time the bait hitting the water at the same time as the feed. With no reel the fight each time was awesome and direct, the rod was like a wand and the fishing - well it was just magic!
