After a lifetime so far, of an indulgence in the fly fishing industry I’ve heard every story that there is to tell, as exciting as they are to hear, it still makes me cry with laughter when a fisher drops a complete unknown clanger into their story. When the old Colonel came into the tackle shop on the beginning of a days fishing when I was a teenager, and started to tell me that conditions were hopeless for a hatch of fly, I responded with, ” a gold bead hares ear might get down to em'” to which he replied, with the utmost modesty “I’m not much of a nymphomaniac”… each to their own.

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