There’s something brilliantly perverse about fly fishing in winter. While most sensible anglers have packed away their gear until spring, those of us chasing grayling are wading into freezing rivers, watching our breath hang in the air, and having some of the best sport of the year. Gear Used in This Article View on Amazon […]

I’ve spent enough wet mornings on Derbyshire streams and Scottish lochs to know that your fly line matters more than most anglers think. While we obsess over which size 18 CDC dun to tie on, we’re often fishing with a line that’s completely wrong for the conditions. The truth is, having the right fly line

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve watched a decent fish slip away at the net. Sometimes it’s because I’ve rushed it, sometimes the hook just falls out at the worst moment, but more often than not, it’s down to using the wrong net or no net at all. After thirty-odd years fishing rivers

I’ve spent enough mornings stood thigh-deep in the River Usk to know that cheap waders are a false economy. The first pair I bought lasted three trips before springing a leak right in the crotch seam. Not ideal when you’re two miles upstream and the water temperature is hovering around eight degrees. Gear Used in

The first time I properly understood river currents, I was stood knee-deep in the River Usk, watching my dry fly drag across the surface like a tiny speedboat. I’d been fishing for three seasons and catching the odd fish, but mostly through luck rather than judgement. An old boy wading past stopped and pointed at

Right, let’s talk about leader setups because I reckon this is where a lot of anglers make their fishing harder than it needs to be. You’ll see blokes on the river with all sorts of complicated rigs, and half the time they’re not entirely sure why they’ve set things up that way. The truth is,

I’ve lost count of how many fish I’ve seen come off because of dodgy knots. There’s nothing worse than watching a nice brown trout shake free on the Test or seeing your fly ping off mid-cast on a blustery day at Grafham. After twenty-odd years fishing across England and Wales, I’ve learned that your knot

Getting started with fly fishing in the UK can feel a bit overwhelming when you’re standing in a tackle shop staring at hundreds of different flies, or watching someone effortlessly cast thirty yards across a chalk stream while you’re still trying to work out which end of the line does what. I remember my first

Learning to cast a fly rod can feel awkward at first, but once you get the rhythm sorted, it becomes second nature. I remember standing on the bank of the River Test watching other anglers make these beautiful loops while my own line collapsed in a heap at my feet. If that sounds familiar, don’t

There’s something slightly mad about standing waist-deep in a river when your breath’s making clouds and there’s ice forming in your rod rings. But if you’re like me, you can’t just pack it in until spring. Winter fishing on UK rivers can be absolutely brilliant, with fewer anglers about and some surprisingly willing fish. The