I had a great season with grayling. Had a bunch over two pound with a high of three pound. Now the hunt for a big brown starts. The new moustache style. Night grayling. Three pound? On the look out. Prepping for the next round in the river.
These nights when big trouts rise. What they feed on you don't have a damnfuckingmaddafakka clue about. You can't move. Then they spooke. I love it.
Fishing from bellyboat give you advantages. No doubt. It also make you look like a toad. Impossible to take a leak from looking like you actually have a wiener. Impossible striking a nice "pro fly fisher" pose from. At least you reach those damn trouts you been giving names so many times. Strike a pose... Continue Reading →
I walked the river for 10 hours. Spying for rising trout and grayling. Nothing. The river was floating its way down without any surface disturbance. I dropped dead on the ground under the bridge and fell asleep. I woke up to a party with caddisfly pupas. Seven beautiful two pound grayling could not resist my... Continue Reading →
Just came back from a trip with friends John and Kalle. This helicopter trip to the swedish highlands was a birthday gift to Kalle. It would become more of a bromance trip than chasing personal records. Though Kalle caught the biggest grayling of the trip, 2.4 pound. The wine was perfectly temped and the beer... Continue Reading →
For some years now I have been cursed by the river Rena. I have treated her good, been worshiping her and done everything to be a good kharma part of her. Her answers has been demonising my attention. A shadow of curse has been following my footsteps along the river bank. Tonight I graduated her... Continue Reading →