Monday, 5 October 2015
Well it's that time of year again , its the time of year when I try convince myself that this is the start of the Grayling season and not that my season has ended, I try to convince myself that the trout season closing doesn't matter even when I know it does ,its the time of year when I reflect on another summer passing and think about its highs , lows and memories. This year I struggle to remember a single fish that was out of the ordinary, Those highlights that come to mind are those little victories and successful skirmishes that are a part of every day on the bank, That almost perfect cast , the successful stalk, the fish extracated from that impossible lie. The time when you knew a fish would be hiding in that current crease and the cast produced an instant response, You will notice that all these things are about the moments before the capture. Of late the result its size and ensuing battle seems somehow less important. Not sure what has led me to this way of thinking. Perhaps I'm getting old.
Also this last year I have found greater pleasure in fishing with companions and have also grown increasingly intolerant of the on line community. Why does the on line world and in particular social media so often seem to bring out the worst in people? For many years I enjoyed membership of an on line fishing forum . Increasingly I became frustrated with the trolls the cliques and the chest thumping idiots not to mention the hypocracy, I had enough and left. I have at times even wondered about keeping the blog . But the great thing about a blog is I can sit here in the lounge right now and say what is on my mind, I can type rubbish if I want, this may even be rubbish but I'm enjoying writing it and I hope that just perhaps someone may read it and nod or smile to themselves take some pleasure from it and make a connection. Perhaps they may read it and say whats the tosser talking about ?, But I wont know so I wont care.
Over the years many people have collared me either on the bank or in a club meeting and said. " Are you the guy with the blog"? . In all but one case I have been told how much they enjoy reading it and to keep it up , perhaps they were just been polite but for you guys who read it , thanks. Those comments mean a lot. For the one guy who told me he thought it sucks, well I repeat what I said on the bank , "Dont F......g read it then". There is the pleasure of the blog I get to enjoy the writing and don't have to worry about critics and trolls.
This year the rivers have been very very low. Two years of low rainfall have sucked the life out of the local streams . Sport has continued though. tiny flies and fishing the skinny water and broken riffles where the oxygen levels are better has paid dividends. Fishing into the early dark has paid dividends too. It has also demonstrated to me how important the maintaining of a wild fish population is . Where the stocked fish have disappeared for weeks on end skulking in the dead deep pockets the smaller wilder fish have continued to feed. Strange thing is catching smaller fish hasn't bothered me. I confess whilst not been a anti stocking evangelist I do get more pleasure from the capture of a wild fish what ever its size. Its a strange thing but its important to me. I confess I puzzle over the conundrum of stocking and how even among anglers who are mad keen on maintaining high levels of stocking a fish that is newly stocked is often looked down upon by many." Just a stocky " we have all heard it said. Funny thing about new stockys its like dating a girl of easy virtue. Great at the time but when youve done it a time or two its all just a bit easy. Yet a stocky that's been in a year or more and had chance to grow back its fins is somehow different and worthy of a grip and grin shot. Same fish but the year or so its had in the river has perhaps eased the anglers conscience and wised up the fish.
Truth is I suppose none of it really matters what matters or what should matter is the enjoyment we all gain from those hours we spend on the river bank or in the river. I guess the truth is for this angler. Fly fishing has become about the battles and not the victories its about the preparation and fly tying. Its`s about the fishing day, the bugs in the river and the birds in the trees. Whilst saying that a 2lb Grayling still eludes me and knowing what it would mean to catch that fish. I would fish in a ditch with Jeremy Corbyn. So I guess once again I am talking bollocks.