Wild Trout, theory and practice
23/04/07
Saturday
and Sunday last weekend were the Wild Trout Trust
days at Langford Lakes, I won't say too much about it
other than to say that it was a really good weekend.
I met some fantastic people, Charles RW was a
thoroughly nice chap, indeed I now have a signed copy
of his book (I tried to get him to not sign it incase
it was worth more on ebay that way!). There were
really good presentations from a number of sources,
plenty of food for thought and then an afternoon
looking at bugs and rivers. Ok, Ok, there was
slightly more to it than that but you get the general
idea.
A very good meal then followed, with good banter around the table, finished up with a charity auction which I stayed firmly out of. I think I can blame the fact that I'd only had a glass of wine whereas the bidders had mostly consumed bottles. Always amusing to watch someone pay £101 for a pork pie and a days pigeon shooting, not sure what the MET officers will think of tweed clad gents in Trafalgar Square 'I said shoot the pHeasants Tarquin old boy, Silent H you know'.
Next day dawned bright with a bit of a breeze and I was all lined up to do a bit of guiding on SADAC waters. A bloody good day transpired where I met some really decent people, from all walks of life and as I sat in the watermeadows in the Woodford Valley, Buttercups around me, the sound of cows munching on grass behind, the sun on my back it really did feel that the world was at peace. I can't say the fishing was easy, but then it never is this early in the year, but one of the things that non-fishers often miss (and thanks to CRW for this) is the anticipation, the disappointment, the connection to the natural world that comes from being out in this environment. You can get a certain level of connection to the natural world by walking or cycling about, but fishing, really can draw you entirely into the natural world. I mean how many people that don't fish do you know who will be actively engaged with what's happening under the surface of a river? There may be the odd crazy botanist type who can identify a hatching olive, but the chances are that anglers are more likely to be on the front line of noticing declines in river ecosystems.
It's my birthday today, so not going to ramble on and on, have better things to do, like drink cider in the bath. TTFN
Malcolm
It really was dark when we finished on Sunday night! Apologies for the smudges, I couldn't see enough to clear the lens
A very good meal then followed, with good banter around the table, finished up with a charity auction which I stayed firmly out of. I think I can blame the fact that I'd only had a glass of wine whereas the bidders had mostly consumed bottles. Always amusing to watch someone pay £101 for a pork pie and a days pigeon shooting, not sure what the MET officers will think of tweed clad gents in Trafalgar Square 'I said shoot the pHeasants Tarquin old boy, Silent H you know'.
Next day dawned bright with a bit of a breeze and I was all lined up to do a bit of guiding on SADAC waters. A bloody good day transpired where I met some really decent people, from all walks of life and as I sat in the watermeadows in the Woodford Valley, Buttercups around me, the sound of cows munching on grass behind, the sun on my back it really did feel that the world was at peace. I can't say the fishing was easy, but then it never is this early in the year, but one of the things that non-fishers often miss (and thanks to CRW for this) is the anticipation, the disappointment, the connection to the natural world that comes from being out in this environment. You can get a certain level of connection to the natural world by walking or cycling about, but fishing, really can draw you entirely into the natural world. I mean how many people that don't fish do you know who will be actively engaged with what's happening under the surface of a river? There may be the odd crazy botanist type who can identify a hatching olive, but the chances are that anglers are more likely to be on the front line of noticing declines in river ecosystems.
It's my birthday today, so not going to ramble on and on, have better things to do, like drink cider in the bath. TTFN
Malcolm
It really was dark when we finished on Sunday night! Apologies for the smudges, I couldn't see enough to clear the lens
reflection
06/04/07
I'm going to try to express something without coming off sounding morbid or morose here so please, stay with me a sec.
Driving back from sunny Watford the other day I heard an interview with the lead singer of a band called my chemical romance. He was talking about his art teacher at school, who rather cheerily i thought, told him that he had to learn to be happy with his own company. At some point, he said, we all end up alone. So pootling down the A303, the sun setting slowly as I neared Amesbury I got to thinking, was he right? Had I just got to the alone part quicker than some others?
I got into the house and flicked the TV on as I made some dinner, it was still on channel 702, Cbeebies, from when Joe had been over the day before. I was just about to flick over to something else when I realised that a) it wasn't showing some derranged plastic eejit singing 'I'm a little teapot' or flying a spotty plane to landfil sites to look for a dog (trust me, I liked that one) and b) it had reverted to BBC 4 as kids really ought to be in bed and not watching TV at this time of night. Anyway, there is a point here honestly, BBC4 was showing a documentary about Wainright (he of lakeland hill walking fame). Now Wainright it turns out was a bit of a recluse, escaping from a loveless marriage by exploring the fells and writing up his exploits in a series of books that became huge successes. When walking he wouldn't even say hello to other people. There was a man that was happy (if you can call that sort of escapism happiness) with his own company. Now I'd never put my ramblings and messy life in the same league as Wainright but there were defintiely elements of his life that I could identify with and his ability to use the natural world as source of joy and escapism is definitely one. I may have ended up roaming rivers instead of fells but the feeling is the same.
Now taking the 'everyone ends up alone' idea, Wainrights self enforced seclusion and bashing it around in my head I begin to feel like I can understand myself a bit better. There is definitely value in being alone, the peace, the self reliance, the independance, the ability to stop and look over a bridge or at a view without people nagging you to get a move on. But, and I'm pleased to have worked this out, although I'm happy with my own company, I can't stand crowds of people, the term 'general public' makes me shudder I am definitely not Wainright. I love to chat to the odd person I meet on the riverbank, I'm lucky enough to have a family that I actually like, I have friends that I'd do anything to help and the most fantastic son in the world (sorry other dads, you're wrong, I'm right!). The only thing life is missing is the soul-mate, and Wainright didn't meet his 'til old age, so there's plenty of time for me yet.
Like the rivers I spend so much time enthusing about, people drift in and out of my life (or do I drift in and out of theirs?). Some stay a while, some stay for longer and sometimes, things you think are permanent and rooted in bedrock are washed away by a flood. Doesn't mean that there are no more people being washed down the stream into your life in the future, just means that the person downstream of you has to deal with your old detritus as it gets caught in their hatches.
A friend from London drifted downstream to stay with me this weekend, and as it's now trout season for me we did the only decent thing, and went fishing :)
The rivers are high with a good flow, the weather was a lovely 19 degrees or so, there was barely a breeze and I blanked. You know what though, it was just a lovely day. It felt good to be alive and as I sat on the bankside at one point I just let the Avon play over my fingers and wondered what things I could look forward to drifting my way in 2007.
Hey Mr Orvis, would you like to buy this photo? Or maybe just slip me some stuff :)
I realised today that my wading shoes are ripped right across the top, the felt soles have dissapeared over time as well and that my polarised glasses are held together with sticky tape. I'm beginning to become a trout bum...
PS I fixed the photo gallery finally! take a look