Hello ladies and Gents, how was your summer? Mine has been banging, literally!
The better half had decided we (she) needed a holiday. To be honest, due to the lockdown, I could hardly complain, so the next day, I awoke to the news (we) had booked a cottage near Buxton in Derbyshire for a cycling holiday.
I hadn’t had a bike since school days but had bitten the bullet and bought my first adult bicycle. You never forget how to ride one, after all.
The cottage was terrific, hidden in the hills with a nice pub a short walk away. We settled in for the first night with a good meal and a Gin and Tonic or two.
Up in the morning and in the saddle for our first adventure.
My friends, we had done 11 miles, and this is where things got interesting (at last, I hear you say). Well, it turns out I’m not very good at cycling.
We were making our way down a slight hill on a single lane in Nowheresville when off the hedgerow ran six day old ducklings and a mother duck. I swear I did my best to get out of their way, but no amount of swerving could untie the carnage, and I somehow managed to squash each one under my front and or back wheels.
This was not good, but then the mother duck committed Harry Carry by sticking its feathery neck through my front wheel. Its head ran around the spokes until finally meeting its match at my front forks. This decapitated mother and sent me over the bars in a 20 stone heap of sweaty skin.
Lying there amongst the dead birds, I was quickly met by the lovely Kathy, who had failed to see the carnage. What are you doing down there?
I swore off!
I knew I had brought our holiday to an end as looking down at my left wrist, I could see it was Finnito Maximus.
Four hours of surgery later, I had inherited two titanium plates and a selection of assorted screws and a nice plaster cast — queue end of summer music.
No more fishing for Keith, masses of badly administered pain killers (thanks for the trip, Kathy, and the constipation). She meant well but somehow got her sums wrong, and I was taking everything twice!
Anyhow, that was to be my summer, in plaster, or not. After just three weeks, the surgeon decided to get my wrist moving, off came the plaster on Monday, hmmm…I wonder?
Tuesday’s open match was at Messinghams fantastic Tripp Pond, a supercharged 35 peg lake and a favourite of mine. My mate Tony Wood was going and suggested I come and watch him. Well, I could. I’d been stuck in the house feeling sorry for myself after all. “I think I could fish it, Tony”, I said. I don’t have to compete. I could just have a nice day out and fish (a bit). Sod it. I’m paying on. So, I did.
I drew peg 15 in the shallows, a nice draw, and on arrival, I decided I would fish a top kit and a top kit plus 1. I could do that, but how to use a landing net? I sat and pondered!
My Octbox extends twice at the footplate. I could make a stiff pivot with a short Octbox fitting. If I was lucky enough to catch a carp, I could rest the net over the pivot and just push down when the fish was in range. It might work!
And so, the match started, and soon enough, I had a bite on the top kit plus 1 line. A gentle lift and out came my elastic, a few nice runs, and swirls later it came over the net, and a swift push down resulted in success! 7lb in around 7 mins. I only came for a steady day out in the sun, an odd fish would be nice, but the bugger kept going under.
Now, the doctor had said “steady movement, get it moving, and this will help your physio”. I clearly remember him saying it. Well, 338lb later, I had got it moving! I had accidentally (see what I did there) won the open with one hand. I’m not sure what I’d have weighed with two good ones but wow, what a peg. Triumph over adversity and a clear example of adapting to circumstances. Great fun too, what a laugh.
I’ve been several times since and have won three more. I’m back at the hospital on the 6th of September for what I hope to be a good assessment, and with luck, I’ll be back to work soon after.
Anyhow, I hope you’ve had a chuckle reading this and are all fit and well. If you’re not, do your best to get out doing what you love doing, it could do you a world of good.
And for the record…the bit about the ducklings is total bullsh*t. Falling off a bike is just a bit dull, sorry for any distress this may have caused.
The pictures show my good mate Skelly who came to watch recently and made himself comfy, and the pivot bar I came up with, far left of my box. Also, Cohan who insisted on pushing on my filthy discarded plaster after I’d pulled it off for an itch n scratch.
Go fishing, Give Back and stay off the bikes!
Tight Lines
Keith
