More in frustration rather than hope, I headed to the river for another dose of frostbite… With plenty of snow blanketing surrounding hills the drive down dirt tracks to a favoured beat was pictureque if nothing else. Tackling up pretty much prompted the arrival of more snow too. With eyes stinging and numb hands, I eventually found a willing trout, tucked up in a secluded corner and quietly sipping down the odd midge. Thankfully, he couldn’t resist a size 20 Shuttle-smut and was duly released. Hanging about proved fruitless though as even more snow piled in. With the water temp of 3oC and a wind chill of minus something or other, I called it quits at 3.20pm.
~Arctic temperatures had caused ice to formed on trailing branches and boughs~
…The only thing to fill the icy air was snowflakes and not olives…
