I have laid aside business, and gone a'fishing.

Izaak Walton

Saturday, March 3, 2012

Return of an old flame...

Last year I was working none stop, and I went fishing 6 times!!!

This year, I want things to be different....I want to go fishing a hell of a lot more. The main reason I started this blog was for my own satisfaction. So that when I'm confined to a home for the elderly, or the insane, or both, I can look at my blog and remember all those happy times when I was out there in the world, becoming some small part of it.

But if I'm not careful, I won't have too many posts to read while I'm being spoon fed sago by an eastern european nurse who began life as a man called George but after some strong medicine grew breasts, became a "woman", changed her name to Magdalena and won an olympic bronze in the shot putt.

With that in mind I cleared my diary for Friday and got the hell out!
I fancied a trip to the River Goyt in the hunt for some of the Grayling.  If you can see beyond the rubbish littering the banks and the odd shopping trolley that lies in wait on the river bed to snag your fly - it's a lovely little river with lots of features and twists and turns.

With hope in my heart I struggled into the chest waders. Excessive feasts and parties and a few dozen bottles of Merlot over christmas made the task that bit more of a struggle, but finally, suited and booted I made off for my favourite pool. The river was a bit low and still quite cold, but I didn't give a hoot and tied on a couple of heavy nymph's. (Thanks J.T.).

I waded out a few yards and fished about 20 yards of the far bank, wading gently and following the flow and the bubble-stream, letting my fly's drift down with the current. I didn't get so much as a pluck. I repeated my efforts a few more times but then I was joined in the swim by a large black dog.

A man appeared, dressed in running gear, he announced that this was the dog's favourite pool. Mine too, I replied. The dog emerged from the water and before he had time to shake, the man threw a hefty branch into the river a few yards from where I stood. The dog launched himself into the water in a way that reminded me of the launch of the QE II. All the scene lacked was the Queen, a Mayor and a bottle of champers tied to a length of ribbon.

In his excitement, the dog (I didn't ask his name) was breaking wind from his rear end. And as he swam to retrieve the branch the farting gave the illusion of some kind of jet propulsion system.
Aaawwh, cried the man, he just loves a good swim. I departed, somewhat miffed.

Further upstream I came across a few boys scaling the wall of one of the many bridges that cross the Goyt. I stopped to take the photo, but didn't stop to chat. It seemed a dangerous way to spend an afternoon but each to their own and all that.
Quietly, I wished them well and hoped they get their hands on the Eiger, one day.

I fished several more of my favourite places, a twist here and a turn and a glide up there there but, again I didn't see a single fish. The sun, which had fought all day to break through, had reddened my face and the cooling breeze had chilled me a little. I thought of home and a meal and three fingers of irish but still, I had enjoyed the best day of this young year and I want to do it again and again and again.


  1. Those bridges completely have stolen my imagination...as have you, and I journeyed with through this day. Also, you managed to get a good and hearty chuckle from me via your description of the the old-folks home. So here, old sausage, is to investing in being a part of our own small worlds in our own small way...

  2. Beautiful description of what life might become, sago pudding and all. The old bridges are works of art.

  3. e.m.b. Glad you came along for the ride.

    Phillip. The bridges are, rather mystical.

  4. A lovely read Alan,

    Your description of the dogs inbuilt jet propulsion system did bring me a chuckle and at the same time a very wry smile and I can understand why you would be miffed, some people couldn't give two hoots about destroying someone elses pleasure. That reach of the Goyt looks like it has a lot of character, with many an interesting twist.
    I really look forward to reading more of your trips this year, so here's to many more wet lines and reddened cheeks.

    Kind Regards

  5. Mark. I will make it my duty to bring you many more reports, this year. Thanks for the nice comments.