Finally, after spending the entire winter in pursuit of a decent grayling, worthy of a post of its own, I am able to present this Gentleman of the Stream.
Not, by any means, a particularly pretty fish, I'll grant you - he carries the battle scars and curmudgeonly air of a grayling that has loved, and lost. He represents, nonetheless, a clunker in my book; in my estimation a very good two pounds. Having snaffled the proffered nymph, he yawed this way and that with his head upstream before deciding to do one in the opposite direction. I found myself running dementedly downstream in hot pursuit as he took a lot of line and not a little of my dignity.
It will, no doubt, come as small consolation to him, but I tweaked my back in the process. He was, however, worth the pain.