When I first took an interest in fly-fishing, way back in 1970, I was invited by a work-mate, an elderly chap, to come to Morehall Reservoir with him one evening and "learn how it's done".
After a couple of hours of flogging water, and a dead horse, I started getting rather bored and, as a diversion, asked to see the contents of his fly-box. He was very reluctant to show me his flies, so, I pestered his bloody life out until he gave in.
It was plainly obvious why he wouldn't show me them, he must have been embarrassed. His box contained five, size 12
Peter Ross', six, including the one he was using
I thought he was taking the p***, so I asked to see the
others. "That's all I need", he snapped back, "I always catch on those, I don't need any others".
Well, he didn't catch that evening so he started calling me a "bad luck c***".
When I finally took up fly-fishing, I started using and persisted with a
Peter Ross!
To this day, forty years later, I've still never caught a bloody fish on one
Leven
... ill get my coat 
Linear Mode
