Issue 63 - A Midge Too Far
After a five-hour overnight drive,two hours fly tying with black and orange hairs,a high-speed hustle from west to east Scotland,I found myself,by kind invitation,on the banks of a very fine salmon river. Oh what a lucky man I was! Or so I thought as I was dropped off at crack of dawn on Beat One.Rain over the weekend had swollen the river to a good height and the ground was warm and damp with the still air hanging over the quiet,swirling,tumbling river. Was it too quiet and too early?
The first few midges nudged my ear lobes and then, attracted by my dark beret,started to take an avid interest in me.I had tied on my attempt at a Hairy Mary and was just learning how to cast my new 13-foot double-handed salmon rod, when the main force of midges arrived.
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