A friend just came back from a trip to Utah and fished until he couldn’t fish anymore. He had tales of big cuts, bows and to top it off, he caught a Grayling. His descriptive relating of what it felt like when the fish took his fly and the surprise when he saw it was a Grayling – when he first saw that sail sized dorsal fin – well, I don’t know who was more choked up, him as he relived it or me, wishing I was there.
Fishing for Grayling has been a dream for a long time. When I was in Montana I thought I might have a shot at one, but the piscatorial Gods weren’t cooperating. But as they say, you have to have something to look forward to. There’s always next year.
TD