Yesterday YET AGAIN we failed to fish Ellastone to finish the score, only 1 succesful trip there for the whole year, 1 of 7 attempts, not very good really. Today was the last trip using my DRAC membership for many reasons not just the above. Anyway our kid talked me into trying Eaton Dovedale saying " you'll never know if you don't try it today". Needless to say as Derbyshire had been a little tough lately, I agreed to give it a go.
Arriving at the river I immedietly thought it resembled a course venue like other rivers similar in this area, quite large with parts never to be waded even though the water is extremely low at the moment, mind you it is a mixed fishery so from a box you could reach most places from the bank with course methods, it made sense I guess.
First thing to tell is with my brother pushing up behind as we made our way down through the head high nettles to the river, he shouted " Come on just step in its only a foot deep". I stepped forward to the edge of the reeds and my left leg carried on way past a foot of water. I dropped that fast that my right leg caught up on the edge of the bank, so with my momentum I dived head first into and under the river. Luckily my fishpond saved my mobile phone so I hung my clothes on a tree and carried on fishing in just my chest wader. When my brother eventually stopped laughing he said " bloody hell we'll definitely hear banjo's today" which put a smile on my face, and with a naked top half and my man boobs on display, I did look like a Schizophrenic Hill Billy that might fancy a pig or 2.
Right! back to the fishing which turned out to be OK. I cracked the code which was a black f-fly with a twitchy retrieve, resulting in me catching 14 Browns and nice Chub. This river did turn out enjoyable, and although it didn't feel or look trouty, it obviously was. On reflection Eaton Dovedale did take me back to my youth, to one of the many summers day when I'd fallen into the Trent.
Farewell and good riddance to DRAC, however strangely enough, I did have a good laugh during my final fling with the club - literally. In some cases you only ever get what you pay for.