Hardships and Pleasures
- Details
- Published on Tuesday, 02 October 2007 09:59
- Written by John Watson
How do you like your fishing? Smooth and synchronised, everyone turning up on time, transport arrangements worked out to the nearest minute? Or do you prefer it rough and ready? You know from past experience that someone will be late, you will have to stop somewhere as it's a safe bet something's been forgotten: cigs, sandwiches, beer - the list is endless, so you settle down in the knowledge you will get there eventually a bit late perhaps, but with everything you need for the trip.
Or is your trip an endurance test from start to finish? I have experienced all of these scenarios. Yes it's good to get to your chosen destination in good time find your accommodation is up to, or even beyond, your expectations with, an easy stroll to the loch or river where fish are plentiful and hard fighting. All in all a great fishing trip.
I have had more than my fair share of rough and ready trips. On one occasion to the extent of being told by my fishing partner "I wont be too long I've just got to fit a new driveshaft to the car"! Then there are the trips where everything in the universe conspires to defeat you. Things start off mildly annoying: your waders are still wet inside from when you fell in the loch on your last trip; don't worry it's not too bad they'll soon dry out. Then halfway on your journey the boat trailer gets a puncture. Get the spare out only to discover the tools are still in the garage at home. Unhitch the boat, drive back to the last outpost of civilisation you passed to beg steal or borrow a wheel key or socket set with an 18mm socket. Mini wheels have a different size to every other car in Britain or so it seems.
On arrival at your chosen secluded retreat you find that where you launched the boat last time a new gate has been erected; the search begins for a new launch site. An hour later the boat's in the water and you are on your way to that cracking little bay where the fish were only too willing to accept anything you offered them.
Camp established rods set up: the heavens open and you are drenched, the fish are not biting, firewood is soaked, but you are there and you make the best of the rest of the trip. Struggling against the elements offers two choices you can let it beat you or you can take it head on. I always opt for the second; you may not have the most productive fishing trip, but I'm sure you will agree it will be memorable.
So what is the moral, if any, of this story? I think it's to take each outing as it comes, accept philosophically the hardships and pleasures granted to us by the Gods of fishing and try to ensure the next trip is appreciated for what it is.
It may not be perfect but at least you are still out there doing what you enjoy and quite often in a spectacular landscape.