Enty after work...

And so to Enty,
A busy Wednesday at work was good enough reason to head up to Turton for an evening spell.

On arrival the usual hordes of joggers, walkers, and combo's of joggers & walkers with dogs were everywhere. The sh*t situation is getting a bit out of hand with most owners letting their flea-bag pooches relieve themselves all over the show, without even attempting to clear up the foul mess. Even those that do quite often bag it and then shove it into the walls, do they imagine someone will come along and clear it all up?

Anyway, rant over.

A few nights ago, the reporter on Look North said we were in the middle of a drought, she was right. Walking round to the far bank it wasn't hard to see the levels had dropped quite a bit and quite a long stretch of the stones were exposed.

At least it afforded a long space between me and all the dog walkers. Gradually as the evening wore on the all the doggies were taken home to stink out their owners places and a kind of peace was restored.

Almost flat-calm, I decided to try a few of my favourite buzzer patterns - all to no avail, not even a take. A change of plan and out came my current favourite dry-fly pattern. I've no idea what it's called, it came in a bit of a luck dip bag I picked up at a game fair a few years ago. (Answers - please).

Five minutes after tying it on the fly disappeared into a splashing take and a nice pound and a half Rainbow was soon on the bank.





As the sun began to fall the Herons flew home to roost in the trees just behind me. Their chicks kicked off with a terrible screeching din. It didn't put the fish off and soon number two and three were on the bank. Another fish rose about 10 yards out, I cast to it, (not a bad effort for a change) and head and fin appeared as it took my fly. The last of the night was about the best, not far off two pounds.

Time for home, just be careful I don't step in any dog sh**!

For the last several weeks I've been grounded from fishing activities. We've had a new kitchen fitted and other general building works have kept me away from the waters edge. Finally, the builders have gone and the job is all but finished and Ayesha (she who must be obeyed) informed me a shopping trip to Boundary Mills was on the cards.

Of course, I thought back to my recce to Roughlee Trout Fishery as previously mentioned in this blog.

So, to Boundary Mills in Colne. After dropping Ayesha so she could buy more stuff, I turned the trusty Shogun towards Roughlee, a short ten minutes drive away. Yippee!

Roughlee is only 2.5 acres, but it's the perfect oasis for the fisherman (or should that be fisherperson? Answers on a postcard, please). Terry, who owns and runs the fishery has provided every comfort, including a small lodge complete with coffee and tea making facilities as well as a microwave to heat any food you might bring with you. There are also toilets on-site, which is of course, very convenient.You can only fish from one bank, but there's plenty of room for your back-cast and every few yards there are chairs and benches to take the weight off, again, most convenient.

After a brief chat with Terry I was fishing and there were fish showing everywhere. Ten minutes later Terry shouted over and asked if I'd like a cup of tea, I did, and a few moments later he carried it over to me. Now, I ask you, when did you last visit a fishery where the owner not only made you a cup of tea, but carried it down the bank to you?

I remember years ago (1980's) traveling down the M6 with an old fishing chum for a day on a commercial coarse fishery, something quite new in those days. You bought a ticket and found your peg.

An hour or so later the fishery owner appeared on the far bank riding a quad bike. He stood up and screamed "Get your f****ing tickets out, so I can f****ing see them". It was the weekend, and the place was full of Dads with young sons. It put me off the commercial match type fishery, and I never went back. Call me old fashioned, if you will.

Anyway, pretty soon I was into a nice Rainbow, no monster, but it put in a nice performance and christened my new light fly rod, so I was happy enough.

I got the rod from a site on eBay for £50.00 (including the reel) with the idea of a bit small river fishing, hopefully I'll get round to giving Mike Duddy (he of Manchester Fishing Fiend, fame - a wonderful blog) a call for a few tips on his beloved River Irwell.

He seems like a very knowledgeable type, even though some of his 'friends' say he isn't - plus, I'm not sure about that hat he wears. (Just joking Mike, honest).

Anyway, I reached the 'top-end' and after yet another cup of tea was carried down the bank to me, I took Terry's advice - 'they like a big white dry-fly'. I found such a fly in my box, tied it on and chucked it out. Two fish saw it straight away, one won the race, sucked in my fly and once more a nice Rainbow was on the bank.

All too soon I knew I had to leave, Ayesha would be pushing a trolley full of stuff towards the exit and expecting me to be on the other side. I called it a day for Roughlee and headed back down the bank. Back at the little lodge, I broke down my rod, put away my reel and made myself a brew. I sat down and basked in the sunshine for ten minutes and drank my tea.

The fishing cost £10.00 (a sporting ticket is always my choice). An oasis, indeed. I'll be back, just as soon as Ayesha needs to buy more stuff - thanks Terry.