'twixt the moorland villages of Clapptrap and Skandal there runs a lovely stretch of the Twaddle. The lively river flows through the limestone gorge at Poppycock Cut, and once past Yakking Mouth it discharges its clear waters in spectacular fashion at Fayrelady Falls. Tis a sight for sore eyes to behold such wild, foaming torrents - I courted my dear wife there and it's a good spot for trout.
I usually commence fishing at the foot of the falls, and then make my way downstream until I reach a most dastardly stretch known as Snagg Bottom. It was on passing one of the more challenging straights thereabouts that I chanced upon Wilbur Wilberforce, an angler of fine repute who could tempt the most fickle of brownies to take his hand crafted nymphs.
Although, to my …show more content…
By no means a huge fish in Yorkshire and even the British all time record is under four pounds, but the plucky fellows are well respected nonetheless. They're handsome creatures too and you'll not find many aquatic species that can match the grayling's good looks.
"He has the current in his favour," Wilberforce exclaimed. "If he makes the tree roots I'm done for."
"Then turn him, Sir, turn him."
Not a straightforward task on light tackle - and that's the sport of it! To save the day, Wilberforce had little choice other than to leap into the water, up to his waist he was, but he kept his line clear and such a thrilled expression came upon his face when he finally succeeded in turning his bold adversary.
Although, the fight was far from won, line screamed from Wilberforce's reel on several occasions and he couldn't much bully the fine fish for fear of a break. Every inch of line gained came with high risk, and only skill and a measure of good fortune kept the fight going. Until finally, the quarry tired and its uniquely shaped dorsal fin broke water.
"I think I'll require your assistance to net him," said Wilberforce.
"At your service,
I usually commence fishing at the foot of the falls, and then make my way downstream until I reach a most dastardly stretch known as Snagg Bottom. It was on passing one of the more challenging straights thereabouts that I chanced upon Wilbur Wilberforce, an angler of fine repute who could tempt the most fickle of brownies to take his hand crafted nymphs.
Although, to my …show more content…
By no means a huge fish in Yorkshire and even the British all time record is under four pounds, but the plucky fellows are well respected nonetheless. They're handsome creatures too and you'll not find many aquatic species that can match the grayling's good looks.
"He has the current in his favour," Wilberforce exclaimed. "If he makes the tree roots I'm done for."
"Then turn him, Sir, turn him."
Not a straightforward task on light tackle - and that's the sport of it! To save the day, Wilberforce had little choice other than to leap into the water, up to his waist he was, but he kept his line clear and such a thrilled expression came upon his face when he finally succeeded in turning his bold adversary.
Although, the fight was far from won, line screamed from Wilberforce's reel on several occasions and he couldn't much bully the fine fish for fear of a break. Every inch of line gained came with high risk, and only skill and a measure of good fortune kept the fight going. Until finally, the quarry tired and its uniquely shaped dorsal fin broke water.
"I think I'll require your assistance to net him," said Wilberforce.
"At your service,