I have been in China for the past week meeting with factories and quality checking this seasons products. I learnt of the Christchurch Earthquake while I was away. It was on the front of every paper I saw. From all the Team at Evolve Outdoors Group we send our regards to the hardy people of Christchurch, hang in there and take care. Our condolences to the people who lost loved ones.
Just a quick post from me, mainly because I haven’t really got anything too significant to say (not that that has ever stopped me in the past…)
I’ve been fishing a couple of times, with a resounding lack of success sadly. Last saturday Andrew and I busted our asses driving to and then tramping into a fairly remote river. We’d had great success here last year, but this year didn’t match. We simply didn’t see the numbers we saw last year. I’ve since been enlightened by a learned fellow that more fish hold for longer in this stream after a mouse year (i.e. last year). Over the course of the whole day we saw probably 5 or 6 fish, admittedly they were all of a very good size. I realised that Andrew had hooked one when I heard him exclaim profanities at losing it seconds later. I was to suffer an altogether more tortuous fate a little later in the day. We spotted a fish feeding in a deep gut in the tailout of a pool, which I covered with a dirty double bunny. We’d had remarkably little interest in nymphs, so streamers were the logical choice. On about the 2nd or 3rd pass the fish bolted forwards, spooked I assumed, until the line grew taught and the fish dived deep into the pool. I proceeded to do a beep test across the river (If any of you don’t know what a beep test is then the New Zealand education system has failed you) before the fish bolted downstream through some rapids. I was feeling pretty confident as I had fairly hefty tippet on and had been putting some serious pressure on the fish. Ah, almost beached…just gotta get the net under it. And then slack. That awful feeling that resonates in the pit of your stomach. Euphoria turns to despair. Delight to disaster. I watched as a 6-7lb brownie lay stunned in the flow, before making good his escape. This proved to be the last catchable fish we were to see for the trip. The walk back wasn’t aided when I slipped over not once, but twice, caning both my leg and knee in the process. The perfect preparation for a long walk out…
Desperate for redemption I snuck out with a mate to a couple of local spots, intending to capitalise on the bright sunshine and lack of wind. Enter storm. As soon as we got to the river the whole place gusted furiously. The enthusiasm soon waned and I started to take a couple of photos.
I thought this one was kinda neat in an evocative and moody way.
And another… (We’ll pretend he was hooked up to a fish and not a tree…)
That’s all for now I’m afraid. Reports might be a bit sparse from now until the 9th of November as I have some rather painful exams to get through. However, once they’re over then I should be fishing as much as my bank balance allows. Expect a heap of reports and cool photos.