In the morning I was unable to stand without assistance, by late evening I was able to walk the dog and by the next morning it was as if nothing had ever happened...!
So I went fishing...
I set out with the intention of chasing the grayling of the River Sence but as you can see, the first fish I caught was a chub of three pounds weight. I set down in Crabtree's, put a flake of bread at the designated point and within minutes the rod top was dancing merrily as a fish took it downstream. The strike met with a fearsome strength - I thought I'd hooked a big barbel - but the three pound hook length snapped under the sudden strain. I upped the breaking strain and recast, hooking above chub, a fish that fought like crazy, coming to the net grudgingly. In addition to the new hook there was a tiny mark in the chub's lip where the not long lost barbless hook had once been...
I then moved along to the next swim upstream and sat on the bank in the warm sun trotting maggots down to a raft of cover, where, third or fourth cast, I hooked a sprightly fish that promptly got off the hook. I thought I might be in with a chance of hooking it again after my experience with the hungry chub and so I continued trotting. Sure enough the float once again shot from view. I struck and a fat trout about the same size as the chub I'd not long had, leapt clear of the water. It continued to leap clear of the water for the next minute, indeed it seemed to spend more time in the air than in the drink, a flying trout sprouting wings, but I eventually cajoled it upstream and away from the big snags where it found the only stick of wood in the stream, somersaulting over it, deftly tying the leader around it, and snapping clean off.
Then I moved down to King Dicks Hole and put out a feeder rod to fend for itself while I cracked open a cold guinness and pork pie lunch. Of course Chubby Chavender being the greedy fish he is, simply could not resist crashing my one man party. Now all thoughts of pursuing grayling through the afternoon were forgotten as a chance of gaining a fishing challenge chub point was in the offing. Two fish for five and half pounds is just one specimen short of target, that is, of course, if a specimen can be found...
A mother and small daughter on the opposite bank constructed a small boat from bankside rubbish and set it afloat. It dawdled around in fast water for ages before catching wind and coming across to me. By then they were long gone.
Then chub number three arrived. A small fish of just a pound and a quarter, so my running total of three fish for six and three quarter pounds left just two pounds and nine ounces to catch...
The weather had become cool and windy under a blanket of thickening stratocumulus with just occasional glimpses of the sun to warm me up...
I moved downstream to the mill, fished ledgered flake and while I waited for the inevitable, trotted maggots around the pool where Kev had had two chub last week. I caught a tiny fish that at first I could not appreciate, I thought it was a parr for second but it was actually the smallest perch I have ever caught, a personal worst..! Perty little thing though. Needless to say, the inevitable failed to happen...
I'd wasted an hour dropping into likely spots only to return to Kings Dick's Hole empty handed and with time available for the catching of chub rapidly dwindling away. First cast up came another chub of a pound and a quarter and so with just half an hour to go I was in with a real chance - if any chub turned up now it would surely be enough.
The swim fell still and the light began to fail. In a last ditch attempt and with just ten minutes on the clock I upped sticks and returned to Crabtree's, the Chubbiest swim in the world, for a last crack. On the way I caught my landing net in barbed wire and I wasted precious minutes unpicking it. My last cast of the day was in the water for just three minutes before the rod top wobbled, but it was only my foot nudging the rod butt sending false messages to the tip...
Injury time ticked by as an audible pulse of blood up the jugular vein, but the sound fading. I was watching a team of twenty two left feet as the chance slipped from their grasp. It was hopeless, it was all over till next season. Then, as I trudged back up to the farm a picture formed in my head of a winged trout and like a bolt from the blue it suddenly occurred to me that, no, the rivers would be open again very soon...
FOR THOSE INTERESTED IN AMATEUR OR SELF ADMINISTER PHYSIOTHERAPY TECHNIQUES HERE IS HOW I FIX MY OWN COMPLAINTS
I found out how to self administer highly localised massage to cure physical problems during a bout of tennis elbow caused by repetitive movements of the right arm (Ho Ho ...) The pain was awful and the problem was persistent, had gone on for months and looked to be well on the way to becoming a chronic complaint - I got to the point where I decided enough was enough, did my homework and found to my dismay that current medical treatments were designed to manage rather than cure the condition.
Then I came across a tiny fragment of advice from an American doctor who's name I have forgotten, advice that I took, worked with and refined into a program of treatment that led to a complete cure of the condition in next to no time. The doctor advised that it was the non healing of the tear in the tendon attachment that was the problem, healing that could not progress without substantially increasing blood supply to the point of the tear.
I began to massage the point of the pain with the tip of my finger, pushing really hard into the point where the pain was at its most excruciating level, in fact. I would keep this up for five minutes, rest for five and repeat for 30 minutes while going about my daily business. In three days the pain had gone completely and in three weeks all my problems had vanished never to return.
Since then I have used it to cure all kinds of joint pains and muscle problems so I simply followed the same procedure with the twisted knee. The pain associated with this knee problem, if i moved the joint just a fraction out of line, was just unbelievable. Finding the point of most pain so that I could start massage was really difficult because the general pain occupied the entire leg, but I eventually located a small area on the outside of the knee on the lower thigh that was the culprit. I massaged this area hard for thirty minutes and then let nature take its course.
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