Greydar the Greyling

The title is pretty unrelated, but not entirely. This post is about the greyling but it ain’t about any greyling in particular. I just thought that Greydar would be what I’d be naming my child if my yet-to-be-found wife would (for some stupid reason) give birth to a greyling.

Am I insane?

A little bit, I’ve got some random ideas coming up in my head like out of nowhere today. I’m sure that they are related to the lack of sleep that my last 3 days of fishing have caused.

Usually, if one fishes a more sane area like New Zealand or south/mid Sweden, one would find themselves standing in total darkness after a good days fishing. Well, since the sun is going down that is.

But imagine what would happen to a fish-o-maniac if the sun was never to go down. He, or she, would get stuck at the river without any chance whatsoever to get out.

And if the river contains millions of greyling that ravage the fly on almost every single cast, some sleepless nights are sure to be experienced.

This happened to me, hence my lack in sanity.

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This is where I’ve spent my last three nights and where me, Niklas and Nils caught well over 150 greydars. It does sound a little bit more awesome than it is – I think three of all the fish measured 40-50 cm.

Most fish just came flying up and out of the water with my 4wt flyline as I pulled off a strike to set the hook.

On the last of these days something strange was going on under the surface. For some reason that might be that we caught, released and therefore scared all of the small fish away, we finally reached a point where way less small fish got hooked and quite a few better greyling seemed to fall for the charm of a tungsten nymph rolling in the depths. Nils is quite a fan of the nymph…

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With this badboy Nils claimed the title ”Harrkung” which could be translated into ”King Grey” in English. A staggering sight after seeing extremely mad amounts of small fish. I congratulate Nils for that title even though I don’t think the title will be too hard to confiscate, at least that’s what I believe.

Later, Niklas’s Graydar radar spotted a fish feeding in the utterly shallow water, the ”sail” went up and down in the spot that was almost unreachable while a cold gust was pulsating from the east. Although the wind was pulsating upstream, it wasn’t really that helpful, at least not for me.

Niklas made the cast on the second attempt, the streaking caddis submerged and found its way down the gap of a really fine greyling. Sadly, the fish managed to escape after a brief relationship with the sharp hook. I’m sure that would have been the end of Nils’s reign.

Moments later, while digging for grey coal and silver, I happened to stumble upon a piece of gold. The reckless fish came flying out of the water, this fish, unlike most others, didn’t get tossed out of the water by the strike, instead it flew up in pure rage.

The raging fish was not that big but it surely had quite a few horsepowers to unleash.

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My first brown since my arrival, hopefully not the last.

The place was also inhabited by furious pike that sliced some of the poor struggling greyling that we hooked. This never resulted in a landed pike but what to remember is that one needs to be pretty careful landing those greyling without a net – I’m sure they slice hands just as good as fish.

Long story short, the place was a really fun spot to fish. We slept in a caravan just on the river, we drank, we ate and we fished! For what more could we ask? Not to get hungover maybe?

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Pure magic! I’m not sure if god exist but if he does he must have been tripping while creating these.

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That’s one ugly king😉 .

Pizz!

 

 

 

 

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