Fishing With The Adams Family ... of flies
Morning, I have a confession to make. I've spent the last four months staring at a strike indicator. Not by choice, you understand. The Grayling demanded it. And Grayling, as anyone who's fished for them through a Yorkshire Winter will tell you, are not a fish that reward stubbornness. You put the dry fly away, you go deep, you watch a small piece of fluorescent orange/pink/yellow mono like your life depends on it, and you try to look like you're enjoying yourself.