Warwickshire Avon - Codgers and Commonefactions

It comes to us all in the end. Age.

Not just age, but the failing of the powers and attributes that in our youth we took for granted. Rippling muscles, curly thick hair, hawklike eyes, flashing teeth. My twin brother had those.

Came home to me suddenly when I got a letter from the dentist saying can you come round for a look at your choppers. Alternatively, send them Recorded Delivery. And when I gave up my seat on the bus to this young lady with the long flowing hair. Failing to notice the tattoos, the beard and the sweat shirt stencilled Alabama State Prison.

Gad, I thought. The old powers of perception are not what they were. This finely tuned instrument, this perfectly formed body, is perhaps not what it was. My duty was clear. To warn the others. Tell them how to make the most of what they've got while there's still time. Otherwise they may never land another fish. What's worse, may be carted from the bank slung under a landing net handle. And left outside the pub with rigor mortis setting in. While the other lads wait inside for the coach. With DTs setting in.

MAN! Do you want to be strong? Do you want to be mighty? Do you want the speed of a cheetah, the strength of a lion, the body of an Adonis?

Of course you bloody don't. What would you do with all that lot? But you do want to get down to the river without having to stop for a cough every ten yards. 

You do want to distinguish a float from the rest of the rubbish on the surface without having to use a telescope. You do want to be able to distinguish the tremble in the line from the tremble in your knees.

So start before it's too late....

Start with the teeth. Get them fixed. If you don't, you will not only be unable to cope with the cheese butties and bottle tops, but you may find yourself unable to bite through a line in under an hour. What's worse, be unable to pinch the shot on without swallowing enough lead to sink the mother-in-law. You'll get your real comeuppance on a fast and rising winter river. By the time you've gummed your way through half a dozen swan shot, it'll be summer again and the water will be down to the ducks' ankles.

The eyes are next. Get new specs by all means. But exercise the eyes as Nature meant you to. Stare at distant points of interest. Like those in the cheesecloth thingy across the road. They are even more interesting than floats. And come in pairs. One for each eye. Get your proper sleep. In regular rest periods. After your tea. Even though the wife is dropping hints as subtle as sticking a paint- brush up your nose and putting a power drill through your pipe and slippers.

Avoid any possibility of physical injury. Keep away from ladders, saws, hammers, chisels and lawnmowers. Keep your fingers supple and sensitive, as the classical violinists do. Never take up any implement which might impair these qualities. Such as a spade. And wear silk gloves when you eat your chips.

Drink plenty of draught ale if you're to have your full quota of Vitamin B1, which is essential for the keeping at bay of night blindness and beriberi. On cold days chase it with something stronger to achieve the maximum peripheral vascular dilation. Stick strictly to this regime, spartan and painful though it may be. And you, too, will stand a chance of winning the National at ninety-three. Fit, supple and hawk-eyed. Full of teeth and reflexes.

If the wife hasn't hit you first, during your evening rest period, with the lawnmower !!!!

Anyway to the fishing whilst I can still get off the sofa !!! A post work session was all I could muster up sadly, so I hot footed it down to stretch of convenience to try and muster up a chub as dusk approached. 

Cheesepaste would have to do and both swims I intended to fish would be primed with some bread mash. The river has been over the banks here again and it was slowly coming down to a fishable level where I was praying two areas of slack away from the main flow were available to fish.

Well best laid plans and all that because the river was still banging through so only one swim was available to me really. It was strong tea coloured too so that bread mash would be wasted really and probably settle someone downstream well away from the bait. Anyway a nice dunk of the rig the cheesepaste got some attention within 10 minutes, sadly not the size of chub I was after but at least I wasn't on a blank. 

After re-rigging after I got caught in a snag I fished in to dusk and half an hour beyond with no more fish. I really cannot believe the conditions still, pants basically. Still on a positive note this is my week at work as I've an extended Xmas break. Hopefully the conditions will improve because I intend to get out every day if I can, in-between socialising and Xmas shopping anyway.