fishydreams

Yesterday I went off to Concepción Reservoir with Mark McCann. I will say nothing about the fishing because it was pretty awful. The fish were not hanging around in the place they were supposed to be and we didn´t land anything except a carp which was foul hooked. This fish decided against ingesting the woolly bugger in the conventional manner but decided to head butt the thing instead!

What was interesting was not the fishing, but the mud. Mark and I sank into this stuff to varying degrees and Mark got himself stuck at one point and needed to be helped to extricate himself from its grip.

I was the unlikely hero of this drama and when I met Mark´s wife Nicola later in the evening she greeted me as the heroic rescuer of her betrothed. She said she owed me and insisted in rewarding me with a gift of the equivalent value to her husband. That turned out to be a pint of lager!

Mark and I had a chat about this whole business later. If someone got into this kind of difficulty when fishing alone, as I do most of the time, who would be able to find them?

I tend not to carry a phone when I fish. I have a record of dropping theses damned things into the drink. Mark suggested I should think about how people might be able to find me if I get into trouble in the middle of nowhere. He´s right. This is something I should think more carefully about.

Mark likes to try to impersonate Lawrence of Arabia when he goes fishing.

The outlet of the Río Verde is as muddy as hell but some bits are deeper than others.

You can see from Mark´s trousers how deep he went.

What a hero!