In reply to Post #163
You saw very little traffic on the road when i was young you could wander far and wide you would see the occasional lorry or car but it was so quiet us lads would play football on the main road running through our village after the war years, the early fifties things picked up you did see a lot more transport a lot of our friends had motor cycles and side cars i think when i was about eight my step father bought an Aeriel square four he then added a side car it got us every where to the sea and back ,and to the towns of ludlow and shrewsbury but our main transport was our bikes i would bike miles to go fishing rods tied onto the cross bar, an old army bag or my big post office bag on my back with all the odds and ends from sandwiches to a big bottle of ginger beer we even carried a box of matches plus an old tobacco tin with hooks and weights in as i have said before tackle was poor at the time but we managed on what we could afford. I loved to go to, the little carp lake about 6 miles from my home when i first fished there it must of been around 1950 i used to go with a friend called Ray evans we were two young scallywags and fished together quite often unfortunately, Ray died many years ago at the age of fifty two he will always remain in my heart as he was a great friend who fished and shot with me until he died he is buried in the little church yard at Halford craven arms, we would go carp fishing together i can well remember us casting out and lying down in the long grass we would shake with excitement as we saw the carp break surface you could see there backs out of the water then tremble with anticipation as the float moves and slides below the surface you grab the rod strike and you were in the fish would charge around as you played him this beautiful monster of the deep, we had no landing nets then so it was a matter of getting it to the bank then getting it out with our hands at times we got a bit wet trying to get the fish on dry land no mats then only lush grass he would lie there this beautiful fish no more than three pounds ,but to us youngsters it was huge we would return it gently and watch it swim away then we stood around congratulating our selves they were great days.
The summers seemed to be long i can only remember sunny weather but we must of had rain its just i can only remember the good times we would strip of and swim in the lake no one cared they were hazy lazy days we had a few weeks off school in the summer i spent most of my time either fishing the river or the small carp lake we also followed the corn harvest it was an exiting time as i have told you before catching the rabbits that bolted from the corn and tried to get away these were the days of my youth to picking the apples from the orchards they were privately owned by the many farmers we got chased a few times but we loved to scrump not only the apples but damsons to we would take a basket home and mother would make jam from the fruit the apples we would have a stew or a pie they were marvelous days we roamed the country side care free which i feel is sadly missing today we should not have been there as most estates or farms were strictly private but it did not worry us as lads we would also dig the potatoes before they were harvested we would fill a couple of buckets and make our way home they were boiled and eaten with home made butter and big chunks of bread yum yum but times were very hard so nothing we got was ever waisted . well a bit more latter
You saw very little traffic on the road when i was young you could wander far and wide you would see the occasional lorry or car but it was so quiet us lads would play football on the main road running through our village after the war years, the early fifties things picked up you did see a lot more transport a lot of our friends had motor cycles and side cars i think when i was about eight my step father bought an Aeriel square four he then added a side car it got us every where to the sea and back ,and to the towns of ludlow and shrewsbury but our main transport was our bikes i would bike miles to go fishing rods tied onto the cross bar, an old army bag or my big post office bag on my back with all the odds and ends from sandwiches to a big bottle of ginger beer we even carried a box of matches plus an old tobacco tin with hooks and weights in as i have said before tackle was poor at the time but we managed on what we could afford. I loved to go to, the little carp lake about 6 miles from my home when i first fished there it must of been around 1950 i used to go with a friend called Ray evans we were two young scallywags and fished together quite often unfortunately, Ray died many years ago at the age of fifty two he will always remain in my heart as he was a great friend who fished and shot with me until he died he is buried in the little church yard at Halford craven arms, we would go carp fishing together i can well remember us casting out and lying down in the long grass we would shake with excitement as we saw the carp break surface you could see there backs out of the water then tremble with anticipation as the float moves and slides below the surface you grab the rod strike and you were in the fish would charge around as you played him this beautiful monster of the deep, we had no landing nets then so it was a matter of getting it to the bank then getting it out with our hands at times we got a bit wet trying to get the fish on dry land no mats then only lush grass he would lie there this beautiful fish no more than three pounds ,but to us youngsters it was huge we would return it gently and watch it swim away then we stood around congratulating our selves they were great days.
The summers seemed to be long i can only remember sunny weather but we must of had rain its just i can only remember the good times we would strip of and swim in the lake no one cared they were hazy lazy days we had a few weeks off school in the summer i spent most of my time either fishing the river or the small carp lake we also followed the corn harvest it was an exiting time as i have told you before catching the rabbits that bolted from the corn and tried to get away these were the days of my youth to picking the apples from the orchards they were privately owned by the many farmers we got chased a few times but we loved to scrump not only the apples but damsons to we would take a basket home and mother would make jam from the fruit the apples we would have a stew or a pie they were marvelous days we roamed the country side care free which i feel is sadly missing today we should not have been there as most estates or farms were strictly private but it did not worry us as lads we would also dig the potatoes before they were harvested we would fill a couple of buckets and make our way home they were boiled and eaten with home made butter and big chunks of bread yum yum but times were very hard so nothing we got was ever waisted . well a bit more latter
In reply to Post #164
My stories are not just about fishing but about my life in general from the forties up until now as i have told you all i was born in the war years and until 1947 i lived most of my early years with my grandad i suppose i have him to thank for getting me into fishing in was only three when i first started to fish with my grandad, from that point on a became obsessed with this great hobby of ours i have not just fished for carp , all fish fish were worth catching in my book i really cut my teeth on the river Rea just down the fields a stones throw from my house, and the onny when we moved to Craven arms it was while i was there that i started to fish the lakes and pools that existed on the many estates in the surrounding country side they were all private in those days i don't think many anglers had had really seen the potential of these old estate lakes as i have mentioned before they were generally shot over and the fishing was left alone i would go as much to say most had never been fished maybe the keeper had fished but most were so over grown you had a job getting to the side of the water what with brambles old trees you could not cut any out as the keepers would be onto you and you would soon get caught one such lake i will mention no name as it is still private and is still a shooting estate i was determined to fish the lake but it was surrounded by rosedendrum,s there was no way through i was young so i literally crawled rod and all under these bushes until i reached the side of the water even thought i was young by the time i had got there and my rod set up i would be knacked but it was well worth the effort i float fished and caught some great tench i would use home made bread paste my mother would make it god knows what she put in it as it smelled beautiful good enough to eat i never caught any huge fish maybe a couple of pounds three pound the biggest most i think were over stocked and the fish were stunted the lakes had been left alone and were only used for duck shooting there would be signs keep out shooting in progress or private lake and woods keep out dogs will be shot on sight.
Some of these old keepers were real hard characters and would not hesitate to put a shot above your head i had it happen to me i was frightened to death i was in the cover of a pheasant wood he knew i was there and shouted for me to come out i had been doing a bit of poaching i never answered then bang bang the pellets hitting the undergrowth around me i was out the other side and over the top of the old quarry hiding on The railway line until things had quietened down i had that happen a couple of times, they would not of got away with that with todays laws. They would protect there birds using most methods because if they did not put a good show of birds in the shooting season they would soon be out of a job but things were a lot different then they were hard days the wages were really peanuts and most poeple were very hard up but they managed to scrape by. well a bit more latter
My stories are not just about fishing but about my life in general from the forties up until now as i have told you all i was born in the war years and until 1947 i lived most of my early years with my grandad i suppose i have him to thank for getting me into fishing in was only three when i first started to fish with my grandad, from that point on a became obsessed with this great hobby of ours i have not just fished for carp , all fish fish were worth catching in my book i really cut my teeth on the river Rea just down the fields a stones throw from my house, and the onny when we moved to Craven arms it was while i was there that i started to fish the lakes and pools that existed on the many estates in the surrounding country side they were all private in those days i don't think many anglers had had really seen the potential of these old estate lakes as i have mentioned before they were generally shot over and the fishing was left alone i would go as much to say most had never been fished maybe the keeper had fished but most were so over grown you had a job getting to the side of the water what with brambles old trees you could not cut any out as the keepers would be onto you and you would soon get caught one such lake i will mention no name as it is still private and is still a shooting estate i was determined to fish the lake but it was surrounded by rosedendrum,s there was no way through i was young so i literally crawled rod and all under these bushes until i reached the side of the water even thought i was young by the time i had got there and my rod set up i would be knacked but it was well worth the effort i float fished and caught some great tench i would use home made bread paste my mother would make it god knows what she put in it as it smelled beautiful good enough to eat i never caught any huge fish maybe a couple of pounds three pound the biggest most i think were over stocked and the fish were stunted the lakes had been left alone and were only used for duck shooting there would be signs keep out shooting in progress or private lake and woods keep out dogs will be shot on sight.
Some of these old keepers were real hard characters and would not hesitate to put a shot above your head i had it happen to me i was frightened to death i was in the cover of a pheasant wood he knew i was there and shouted for me to come out i had been doing a bit of poaching i never answered then bang bang the pellets hitting the undergrowth around me i was out the other side and over the top of the old quarry hiding on The railway line until things had quietened down i had that happen a couple of times, they would not of got away with that with todays laws. They would protect there birds using most methods because if they did not put a good show of birds in the shooting season they would soon be out of a job but things were a lot different then they were hard days the wages were really peanuts and most poeple were very hard up but they managed to scrape by. well a bit more latter
In reply to Post #165
The clouds scuttled across the sky casting shadows across the surrounding land we were both huddled together under the hedge row that surrounded the small pool the grass looked silver in the full moon the only noise we could here was the occasional yap of a dog fox higher up in in hill country as you looked up above you could see the twinkling stars there was no light pollution here how insignificant we really are the universe is so huge we are like a leaf on a tree just a small part of this planet we call earth graham and i have stood here many times over the years we never failed to get a thrill waiting for the ducks to come into the small pool my dog blaze trembled with anticipation it was a chilly night as i pulled the color up on my coat as we looked behind where we stood the big hill stood out in the moonlight looking more like a big volcano you could see the big fir wood on the side of the hill it was over run with rabbits and we thought of the days we had spent there shooting the bolting rabbit i would wonder what it was like thousands of years before in the jurassic period what strange animals roamed these hills.
You heard the odd noise from the ducks as they fed far out on the big stubble fields it would not be long before they flew our way to rest on this small pool like there parents had done for generations but it was a moonlight night they could fly all night but we need not worry they came in like darts in two and threes big fat mallard duck there were hundreds the sky was alive with ducks i had a right and left graham did the same as i stood blaze my dog brought them to hand there was a fair pile on the ground in front of us we needed to fill our orders the farmer wanted at least six we ended the evening with twenty mallard we stood and watched as more came in we would leave them in piece until the next time it was like a harvest they would taste good as they had been feeding on the best we walked to the landrover putting the ducks in the back as we rode across the feilds we could see the rabbits bolting for the safety of the big woods on the side of the hill, a fox crossed our path and you could see his shining eyes in the beam of the head lights after a rabbit maybe for his impending supper we came out off hill country calling at the farm where the farmer met us with a big smile want a drink pete no john we must get home we left him hollding his share of the ducks and made our way home i soon fell asleep in the chair beside the fire dreaming of things to come this would be some time in the seventys. a bit more latter
The clouds scuttled across the sky casting shadows across the surrounding land we were both huddled together under the hedge row that surrounded the small pool the grass looked silver in the full moon the only noise we could here was the occasional yap of a dog fox higher up in in hill country as you looked up above you could see the twinkling stars there was no light pollution here how insignificant we really are the universe is so huge we are like a leaf on a tree just a small part of this planet we call earth graham and i have stood here many times over the years we never failed to get a thrill waiting for the ducks to come into the small pool my dog blaze trembled with anticipation it was a chilly night as i pulled the color up on my coat as we looked behind where we stood the big hill stood out in the moonlight looking more like a big volcano you could see the big fir wood on the side of the hill it was over run with rabbits and we thought of the days we had spent there shooting the bolting rabbit i would wonder what it was like thousands of years before in the jurassic period what strange animals roamed these hills.
You heard the odd noise from the ducks as they fed far out on the big stubble fields it would not be long before they flew our way to rest on this small pool like there parents had done for generations but it was a moonlight night they could fly all night but we need not worry they came in like darts in two and threes big fat mallard duck there were hundreds the sky was alive with ducks i had a right and left graham did the same as i stood blaze my dog brought them to hand there was a fair pile on the ground in front of us we needed to fill our orders the farmer wanted at least six we ended the evening with twenty mallard we stood and watched as more came in we would leave them in piece until the next time it was like a harvest they would taste good as they had been feeding on the best we walked to the landrover putting the ducks in the back as we rode across the feilds we could see the rabbits bolting for the safety of the big woods on the side of the hill, a fox crossed our path and you could see his shining eyes in the beam of the head lights after a rabbit maybe for his impending supper we came out off hill country calling at the farm where the farmer met us with a big smile want a drink pete no john we must get home we left him hollding his share of the ducks and made our way home i soon fell asleep in the chair beside the fire dreaming of things to come this would be some time in the seventys. a bit more latter
In reply to Post #166
As i stood within the wood you could hear the sound of the hunting horn they were out in force today i could see the hounds four field away from the old style where i sat i saw a streak of rustic red as two foxes made there way towards this old wood and sanctuary the wood was private, but the hounds could not tell on they would come through the wood following the scent of old charlie, i watched as the foxes parted company one making its way through the old bog that surrounded the pool the other making it way towards the big bushes of Rhododendrons in to it she vanished she would lie there panting for breath hoping the dogs would not find her scent it was a chilly day and had started to snow it stung my face as i looked out from my hiding place the dogs were now in the wood casting here and there the huntsmen blew his horn to call them back but the hounds were on the scent the leading dog was away around the bog where the biggest of the foxes went the noise they made would wake the dead there was about eight couple in all i made my way towards the hounds old foxy had gone to earth and they stood around with waging tales waiting for the terror men to appear what a shock they would get when they appeared with spades in hand to dig old foxy out, i stood in there way gun in hand sorry i would say you cannot come this way this is private property so please call of your hounds and take them away the owners of the woods had already written to the hunt requesting that they should stay away the huntsman arrived on his horse hi Pete he says for he knew me well from years ago we tried to call them back but they were on the scent he cracked his whip blew his horn and took the hounds away i watched as they carried on across the fields they disappeared in the distance but they would be back another day.
The woods were private treble ssi no one was allowed to trespass here i was lucky and could walk where i liked with kind permission from the owners as long as i looked after there interests and kept people away you could stand most days in those woods and hear a pin drop that's how quite they were i would walk and look after the two big badger sets make sure they were not disturbed the wild life was amazing around and on the lake the different species of ducks and the big skeins of geese that rested on the water. I would fish it with graham catching the pike we had amazing days on that old lake and would tag any pike we caught but that was years ago long before the present owners its still ssi and run by English nature i am still allowed on the property a privilege, i love and except, a beautiful place to walk and dream your life away. a bit more latter
As i stood within the wood you could hear the sound of the hunting horn they were out in force today i could see the hounds four field away from the old style where i sat i saw a streak of rustic red as two foxes made there way towards this old wood and sanctuary the wood was private, but the hounds could not tell on they would come through the wood following the scent of old charlie, i watched as the foxes parted company one making its way through the old bog that surrounded the pool the other making it way towards the big bushes of Rhododendrons in to it she vanished she would lie there panting for breath hoping the dogs would not find her scent it was a chilly day and had started to snow it stung my face as i looked out from my hiding place the dogs were now in the wood casting here and there the huntsmen blew his horn to call them back but the hounds were on the scent the leading dog was away around the bog where the biggest of the foxes went the noise they made would wake the dead there was about eight couple in all i made my way towards the hounds old foxy had gone to earth and they stood around with waging tales waiting for the terror men to appear what a shock they would get when they appeared with spades in hand to dig old foxy out, i stood in there way gun in hand sorry i would say you cannot come this way this is private property so please call of your hounds and take them away the owners of the woods had already written to the hunt requesting that they should stay away the huntsman arrived on his horse hi Pete he says for he knew me well from years ago we tried to call them back but they were on the scent he cracked his whip blew his horn and took the hounds away i watched as they carried on across the fields they disappeared in the distance but they would be back another day.
The woods were private treble ssi no one was allowed to trespass here i was lucky and could walk where i liked with kind permission from the owners as long as i looked after there interests and kept people away you could stand most days in those woods and hear a pin drop that's how quite they were i would walk and look after the two big badger sets make sure they were not disturbed the wild life was amazing around and on the lake the different species of ducks and the big skeins of geese that rested on the water. I would fish it with graham catching the pike we had amazing days on that old lake and would tag any pike we caught but that was years ago long before the present owners its still ssi and run by English nature i am still allowed on the property a privilege, i love and except, a beautiful place to walk and dream your life away. a bit more latter
In reply to Post #167
It was early may i lay in the undergrowth at the side of the wood she made her way towards me not a care in the world she stopped and squatted down relieved her self and on she came, i held my breath as she poked her nose through the fence where i lay hidden. She was a lovely vixen and her eyes were bright she was not pulled around from suckling her cubs, they were in an old rabbit warren up the bank from where i lay she sensed something was not right as she made her way past the earth then did a complete circle and past me by again she stopped and checked the air by sniffing here and there, she vanished into the earth bringing out her four young cubs they were not that old but they rolled down the bank and scrambled back up rolling over and over playing like kids they tried to suckle but she would not stand for that away she went across the fields maybe in search of a rabbit for their meal,
The badgers brought there cubs down from the same bank the boar came first then the sow followed by five lovely cubs it was late evening she brought them through the fence where i lay i held my breath as they clambered across my boots my friend Bern was next to where i lay and was operating the camera even thought they scrambled over my feet they did not know we were there, they were going to the green pastures beyond to feast on the many worms it was getting late i must go but i would be back the next day.
As i drove down the drive the next day i was quite taken back the dog and the vixen were lying out on the grass adjacent to the earth i drove past thinking they would move how wrong i was they never moved i stopped the car and wound down the window i was no more than six feet from the pair but before i could get the camera out they moved away i watched them disappear from sight over the brow of the bank heading towards the earth, i got down into the wood thinking the cubs would come out but i was in for a shock i waited for about three hours but there was no sign they were gone she had moved them something had disturbed her, i wondered if it was us the night before where would she take them i walked the hedgerows and eventually found them tucked up in a hole under some old willow trees i did not go to close and left them well alone i did not want to disturb her again but we watched from afar she fed them often bringing rabbit even hedgehog, over the coming weeks they really did grow and became more inquisitive leaving the sanctuary of the earth and venturing further away i knew it would not belong before they went there separate ways they were now old enough to hunt for there selves the vixen was not visiting as much she knew it was time for them to go. This was in the eighties all part of my life and my love of nature and my beloved foxes. more to come latter
It was early may i lay in the undergrowth at the side of the wood she made her way towards me not a care in the world she stopped and squatted down relieved her self and on she came, i held my breath as she poked her nose through the fence where i lay hidden. She was a lovely vixen and her eyes were bright she was not pulled around from suckling her cubs, they were in an old rabbit warren up the bank from where i lay she sensed something was not right as she made her way past the earth then did a complete circle and past me by again she stopped and checked the air by sniffing here and there, she vanished into the earth bringing out her four young cubs they were not that old but they rolled down the bank and scrambled back up rolling over and over playing like kids they tried to suckle but she would not stand for that away she went across the fields maybe in search of a rabbit for their meal,
The badgers brought there cubs down from the same bank the boar came first then the sow followed by five lovely cubs it was late evening she brought them through the fence where i lay i held my breath as they clambered across my boots my friend Bern was next to where i lay and was operating the camera even thought they scrambled over my feet they did not know we were there, they were going to the green pastures beyond to feast on the many worms it was getting late i must go but i would be back the next day.
As i drove down the drive the next day i was quite taken back the dog and the vixen were lying out on the grass adjacent to the earth i drove past thinking they would move how wrong i was they never moved i stopped the car and wound down the window i was no more than six feet from the pair but before i could get the camera out they moved away i watched them disappear from sight over the brow of the bank heading towards the earth, i got down into the wood thinking the cubs would come out but i was in for a shock i waited for about three hours but there was no sign they were gone she had moved them something had disturbed her, i wondered if it was us the night before where would she take them i walked the hedgerows and eventually found them tucked up in a hole under some old willow trees i did not go to close and left them well alone i did not want to disturb her again but we watched from afar she fed them often bringing rabbit even hedgehog, over the coming weeks they really did grow and became more inquisitive leaving the sanctuary of the earth and venturing further away i knew it would not belong before they went there separate ways they were now old enough to hunt for there selves the vixen was not visiting as much she knew it was time for them to go. This was in the eighties all part of my life and my love of nature and my beloved foxes. more to come latter
In reply to Post #168
As i sit writing this the leaves are starting to fall from the trees it will be beautiful down the woods with all the different colours its a most beautiful time of year winter is knocking on our door once again the trees and hedgerows have been full of berries black berries holy berries there has been a good nut harvest the elderberries so the birds will be hard at it gorging on the berries getting ready for the coming winter for me the fishing has not been that good graham my friend has not been to well and i am now suffering my self quite badly mainly my back and i have severe asthma something i have never suffered with until now, but it certainly gets you down so at the present all i can do is reminisce about my early years i suppose i have led an interesting life with my fishing shooting and general love of nature i have met some interesting people along the way and if i had the opportunity i would do it all again i would not change one thing i do miss fishing at night i loved the dark and the quietness of it all i would sit and listen to the different noises so different from the day the dog fox calling the vixen the old Tawney owl high up in the tree above where you sit the barn owl as it drifts across the fields like a white ghost the call of the coot the moorhen the badgers as they pass you by it has been a most wonderful experience make the most of what you have got before age creeps up and takes it away life is so very short you are like a leaf on a tree we only come this way once so take it by the throat and enjoy every moment i certainly have.
I have had my ups and downs i fought in the booths at the fair ground i feared no man but being young you soon learn there is always some one better than you i had a few hidings but my love has been fishing and my wild life i have fished most lakes around my county and a few out side the county not all legal i have poached the pheasants so we could live a better life as in the days of my youth it was very hard when i look back and think of all the different game keepers i knew they have now all gone they have died and took there knowledge with them maybe there ghosts still haunts those woods i poached long ago when i was young there was old bell he was middle aged a good keeper i poached the river under his very nose he chased me a few times i would always hang a couple of trout on his gate to say thank you he knew it was me but could not prove a thing he would call the police and the Sgt Landers would arrive with a couple more policemen old Stan sharp was one i have climbed the trees to get away and have listened to them as the chatted far below i have not dared move a muscle but these are my memories of an age long ago it was a wonderful period in my life i would do it all again if permitted but that is not an option. well a bit more latter
As i sit writing this the leaves are starting to fall from the trees it will be beautiful down the woods with all the different colours its a most beautiful time of year winter is knocking on our door once again the trees and hedgerows have been full of berries black berries holy berries there has been a good nut harvest the elderberries so the birds will be hard at it gorging on the berries getting ready for the coming winter for me the fishing has not been that good graham my friend has not been to well and i am now suffering my self quite badly mainly my back and i have severe asthma something i have never suffered with until now, but it certainly gets you down so at the present all i can do is reminisce about my early years i suppose i have led an interesting life with my fishing shooting and general love of nature i have met some interesting people along the way and if i had the opportunity i would do it all again i would not change one thing i do miss fishing at night i loved the dark and the quietness of it all i would sit and listen to the different noises so different from the day the dog fox calling the vixen the old Tawney owl high up in the tree above where you sit the barn owl as it drifts across the fields like a white ghost the call of the coot the moorhen the badgers as they pass you by it has been a most wonderful experience make the most of what you have got before age creeps up and takes it away life is so very short you are like a leaf on a tree we only come this way once so take it by the throat and enjoy every moment i certainly have.
I have had my ups and downs i fought in the booths at the fair ground i feared no man but being young you soon learn there is always some one better than you i had a few hidings but my love has been fishing and my wild life i have fished most lakes around my county and a few out side the county not all legal i have poached the pheasants so we could live a better life as in the days of my youth it was very hard when i look back and think of all the different game keepers i knew they have now all gone they have died and took there knowledge with them maybe there ghosts still haunts those woods i poached long ago when i was young there was old bell he was middle aged a good keeper i poached the river under his very nose he chased me a few times i would always hang a couple of trout on his gate to say thank you he knew it was me but could not prove a thing he would call the police and the Sgt Landers would arrive with a couple more policemen old Stan sharp was one i have climbed the trees to get away and have listened to them as the chatted far below i have not dared move a muscle but these are my memories of an age long ago it was a wonderful period in my life i would do it all again if permitted but that is not an option. well a bit more latter
In reply to Post #169
I would hide my bike in the thick under growth then walk along the railway line then over the style into the fields it was around midnight when i arrived at my destination climbing the fence and into the wood i stood and listened no sound could i hear the woods were quite and still no one with prying eyes only the animals of the woods i was used to them they would hurt no one it was the keepers that i kept my ear open for but now they would be tucked up in bed after visiting the pub the dog at the house gave the occasional bark but that would not wake him from his slumbers. I approached the lake and made my way forward i had only one rod but i was going to fish this old lake it was left from the ice age not many had fished it only friends of the owners and maybe the keeper, we as youngsters had heard tales of how the pool was bottomless and held some massive pike it was supposed to be very haunted it was a tale put out by the owners to keep people away they wanted no one down these woods i was sixteen years old no ghosts would worry me i had been here many times before. Tonight it was to fish but i would also visit the coverts before i went home i had also brought my trusted rifle it was rapped up in the old sack.
I cut myself a forked stick from the hazel tree behind, i was only using worm i cast it out and sat and waited i had folded a piece of silver paper on the line to act as an indicator my torch had a red reflector i watched with excitement but no movement did it make about an hour latter it moved and slowly the silver paper reached the butt ring i struck and i was in it felt a good fish i played it carefully to the side i could see i had hooked an eel it was a good size maybe three pound plus it was one for home as it would be cooked and eaten the next fish was a small roach of a pound it was worth coming i looked at my watch it was three o clock i put the eel in the bag and hung it on the fence behind with my rod. i only wanted a couple of pheasent for the family as i walked past the keepers cottage i stopped and listened all was quite i moved down into the wood behind the house i moved into the trees surounding the big pen shinning the torch up in the trees i picked one out aimed and pulled the trigger down he came in a ball of feathers then another this was easy i ended up with six i stuffed them into the old postal, bag then i was away the dogs never even barked as i passed the cottage, i made my way back to my rod and sack which i had brought to sit on and cover my gun and retraced my steps untill i i got to my bike then tying my rod to the cross bar bag on my back made for home and bed hanging the pheasents in the shed . the eel was skinned and eaten the next day it made good eating fryed and battered it was a sucsessfull night i left no mess no sign i had even been there it would not be long before i returned again the year was about 1957 long ago but to me it only seems like yesterday. more latter
I would hide my bike in the thick under growth then walk along the railway line then over the style into the fields it was around midnight when i arrived at my destination climbing the fence and into the wood i stood and listened no sound could i hear the woods were quite and still no one with prying eyes only the animals of the woods i was used to them they would hurt no one it was the keepers that i kept my ear open for but now they would be tucked up in bed after visiting the pub the dog at the house gave the occasional bark but that would not wake him from his slumbers. I approached the lake and made my way forward i had only one rod but i was going to fish this old lake it was left from the ice age not many had fished it only friends of the owners and maybe the keeper, we as youngsters had heard tales of how the pool was bottomless and held some massive pike it was supposed to be very haunted it was a tale put out by the owners to keep people away they wanted no one down these woods i was sixteen years old no ghosts would worry me i had been here many times before. Tonight it was to fish but i would also visit the coverts before i went home i had also brought my trusted rifle it was rapped up in the old sack.
I cut myself a forked stick from the hazel tree behind, i was only using worm i cast it out and sat and waited i had folded a piece of silver paper on the line to act as an indicator my torch had a red reflector i watched with excitement but no movement did it make about an hour latter it moved and slowly the silver paper reached the butt ring i struck and i was in it felt a good fish i played it carefully to the side i could see i had hooked an eel it was a good size maybe three pound plus it was one for home as it would be cooked and eaten the next fish was a small roach of a pound it was worth coming i looked at my watch it was three o clock i put the eel in the bag and hung it on the fence behind with my rod. i only wanted a couple of pheasent for the family as i walked past the keepers cottage i stopped and listened all was quite i moved down into the wood behind the house i moved into the trees surounding the big pen shinning the torch up in the trees i picked one out aimed and pulled the trigger down he came in a ball of feathers then another this was easy i ended up with six i stuffed them into the old postal, bag then i was away the dogs never even barked as i passed the cottage, i made my way back to my rod and sack which i had brought to sit on and cover my gun and retraced my steps untill i i got to my bike then tying my rod to the cross bar bag on my back made for home and bed hanging the pheasents in the shed . the eel was skinned and eaten the next day it made good eating fryed and battered it was a sucsessfull night i left no mess no sign i had even been there it would not be long before i returned again the year was about 1957 long ago but to me it only seems like yesterday. more latter
In reply to Post #170
I have been lucky enough in life to know many great anglers dick walker was the top of the list followed by jack Hilton bill Quillan terry Thomas Ivan marks who i met when i was fishing in Denmark with angling times another one i have had a few drinks with was billy lane who was with us on our trip they were all great anglers . it was such an honour for a young chap like me to have known them, the first time i met dick i was speechless i had no idea how to approach this great man we were fishing on his private bit of river i had been trotting down hoping for a chub or a good bream it was a very cold day and had forecast frost when i see the big man walking towards me he wore his trade mark hat caught owt Pete was his first words we shook hands and as you all know it started a friendship until his untimely death from cancer he was a clever man a genius really the things he invented speak for them selves the arsley bomb the bite alarm rods he was a true pioneer for our sport i don't think it would be like it is today if it had not been for dick and his many friends from the carp catchers club, i am still in touch with his son Tim i have been looking for some letters i have from dick to myself god know where i have put them i have promised Tim he can have them or copies of them i think they are up in the attic some where i have struggled to get up there as yet i have not found them but i will continue to look as it would be nice to put them on the forum.
When i first knew dick he was into trout fishing in a big way and had broken the rainbow record he was also doing a bit of perch fishing and was very successful at it like he was at most fishing he was a wonderful friend and helped me in many ways from rods to bite alarms his knowledge was extensive a good engineer. i fished with Jack Hilton in the early seventies it was only for a week but he was top of the game when it came to carp fishing he had caught some very big carp i think if i remember right he was fishing Red mire at the time of his visit to fish with us , i loved to chat to jack and bill as they were a mine of information both great anglers i baited up for a week before his arrival to maybe make it a bit more easier to fish the lake as it was called heart break pool but it held some wonderful bream and big Rudd he had never fished for bream and was really up for it so in the company of Dennis Kelly my self and graham he was great company in fact it was the first time i had seen a bivie he had made it out of black polythene but it was warm and dry another of the pioneers its all down to these chaps that we have what we have today it was a pleasure and a privalidge to have kown them all . well a bit more latter
I have been lucky enough in life to know many great anglers dick walker was the top of the list followed by jack Hilton bill Quillan terry Thomas Ivan marks who i met when i was fishing in Denmark with angling times another one i have had a few drinks with was billy lane who was with us on our trip they were all great anglers . it was such an honour for a young chap like me to have known them, the first time i met dick i was speechless i had no idea how to approach this great man we were fishing on his private bit of river i had been trotting down hoping for a chub or a good bream it was a very cold day and had forecast frost when i see the big man walking towards me he wore his trade mark hat caught owt Pete was his first words we shook hands and as you all know it started a friendship until his untimely death from cancer he was a clever man a genius really the things he invented speak for them selves the arsley bomb the bite alarm rods he was a true pioneer for our sport i don't think it would be like it is today if it had not been for dick and his many friends from the carp catchers club, i am still in touch with his son Tim i have been looking for some letters i have from dick to myself god know where i have put them i have promised Tim he can have them or copies of them i think they are up in the attic some where i have struggled to get up there as yet i have not found them but i will continue to look as it would be nice to put them on the forum.
When i first knew dick he was into trout fishing in a big way and had broken the rainbow record he was also doing a bit of perch fishing and was very successful at it like he was at most fishing he was a wonderful friend and helped me in many ways from rods to bite alarms his knowledge was extensive a good engineer. i fished with Jack Hilton in the early seventies it was only for a week but he was top of the game when it came to carp fishing he had caught some very big carp i think if i remember right he was fishing Red mire at the time of his visit to fish with us , i loved to chat to jack and bill as they were a mine of information both great anglers i baited up for a week before his arrival to maybe make it a bit more easier to fish the lake as it was called heart break pool but it held some wonderful bream and big Rudd he had never fished for bream and was really up for it so in the company of Dennis Kelly my self and graham he was great company in fact it was the first time i had seen a bivie he had made it out of black polythene but it was warm and dry another of the pioneers its all down to these chaps that we have what we have today it was a pleasure and a privalidge to have kown them all . well a bit more latter
In reply to Post #171
Its many years since i fished heart Break pool when i was fifteen i would go along to watch some of the local anglers fish for the big pike it was supposed to hold i got to know the owner quite well and he showed me a pike in a glass case it was thirty two pounds that was back in 1957 it had been caught by the owner his name was sir Reginald Holcroft at the time he lived at a place called pulverbatch and i had to cycle up to see the said gentleman i remember knocking on this big door and being asked into this big rambling house and sir showing me this stuffed pike and lots more beside do you think i can fish the pool i said don't see why not he answered ill give you written permission but don't go anywhere the top pool i did not know there was a top pool but there apparently was he explained it was used for duck shooting and he kept it rather hush hush this really tickled me as i had and still was a poacher of sorts but i would not touch this other pool as he had put his trust in me and i was only 15 years old i felt really privileged to fish there but it was really hard and it broke a good many hearts for a start it was very deep going down to at least 45 ft in the middle so i would only fish the margins with a live bait small perch or roach i caught . I would watch the big cork float bobbing about as the small fish towed it around then it would disappear under the water i would count to ten then i would strike i caught absolutely loads of pike but nothing over seven pounds but they were big fish to me.
But there were other fish in the lake i had heard stories from other anglers about the big bream that was reputed to be in the place in the summer i tried very hard and float fished the margins in between the big Lillie beds i caught no bream but what i did catch was some wonderful perch most were around two pounds i had no scales in those days i also caught a few roach nice fish but i had also seen some big fish rolling on the surface and i presumed these were the bream i wanted one of those fish above all others i tried and tried without success what i did not realize then it would be many years before i got to grips with these big fish i wanted to night fish but sir would not let me . it was many years latter when i got the lease to the place that i really started to catch some lovely bream i had them to 9-12 0z they were good fish that would of been around 1971 or there abouts we also caught some big rudd i did not know they were even in the place we caught them to three pounds also bream hybrids to four pound pounds this was the same pool i fished in the company of Jack hilton and Bill quinlon. more latter
Its many years since i fished heart Break pool when i was fifteen i would go along to watch some of the local anglers fish for the big pike it was supposed to hold i got to know the owner quite well and he showed me a pike in a glass case it was thirty two pounds that was back in 1957 it had been caught by the owner his name was sir Reginald Holcroft at the time he lived at a place called pulverbatch and i had to cycle up to see the said gentleman i remember knocking on this big door and being asked into this big rambling house and sir showing me this stuffed pike and lots more beside do you think i can fish the pool i said don't see why not he answered ill give you written permission but don't go anywhere the top pool i did not know there was a top pool but there apparently was he explained it was used for duck shooting and he kept it rather hush hush this really tickled me as i had and still was a poacher of sorts but i would not touch this other pool as he had put his trust in me and i was only 15 years old i felt really privileged to fish there but it was really hard and it broke a good many hearts for a start it was very deep going down to at least 45 ft in the middle so i would only fish the margins with a live bait small perch or roach i caught . I would watch the big cork float bobbing about as the small fish towed it around then it would disappear under the water i would count to ten then i would strike i caught absolutely loads of pike but nothing over seven pounds but they were big fish to me.
But there were other fish in the lake i had heard stories from other anglers about the big bream that was reputed to be in the place in the summer i tried very hard and float fished the margins in between the big Lillie beds i caught no bream but what i did catch was some wonderful perch most were around two pounds i had no scales in those days i also caught a few roach nice fish but i had also seen some big fish rolling on the surface and i presumed these were the bream i wanted one of those fish above all others i tried and tried without success what i did not realize then it would be many years before i got to grips with these big fish i wanted to night fish but sir would not let me . it was many years latter when i got the lease to the place that i really started to catch some lovely bream i had them to 9-12 0z they were good fish that would of been around 1971 or there abouts we also caught some big rudd i did not know they were even in the place we caught them to three pounds also bream hybrids to four pound pounds this was the same pool i fished in the company of Jack hilton and Bill quinlon. more latter
In reply to Post #172
I have been passionate about many things in the country side one such exercise was done by a friend we had a big incubator at the farm and we breed English grey partridge they had mostly all died out when he started to breed and let them go, that was a few years ago but we still have one or two coveys around today the birds prefer open grassland with dense cover for nesting they also loved the thick hedge rows which was used for nesting, but the greys really benefited uncultivated areas or wide unsprayed fields but unfortunately farming methods have really been to blame for there decline also the increase in foxes has had its effect, some will say but you breed them to shoot yes maybe but we were also trying help the population as it had fallen by about eighty percent in recent years it a beautiful little bird, that needs a chance no one in my syndicate dare shoot one we have put a total ban on touching them i hope over the years they will increase i may not be here to see it we will wait and see.
Another animal to see a very big decline was the hair going back into the sixties and seventies there were hundreds and on some of the big hair drives i attended it was nothing to see over one hundred shot in a day and that did not even make a dent in the population the big Shropshire estates made money from them it helped the estate out, but over the years in our county they started to disappear mainly due to insecticides spraying the fields i have found young leverets dead herbicides also caused death because it killed the natural diet it reduced the food the animal fed on but they are now making a steady come back it is another we have put a shooting ban on last year we started to see a few so i hope they breed and start to recover its really sad how man destroys the wild life more out of ignorance not understanding what the insecticides they were spraying did to our native wild life, it also effected fish in our streams polluting many water courses but things now seem to be on the mend.
The old game keepers persecuted many of our English falcons especially the peregrine, they were also shot in the war years to protect the homing pigeon and it also was infected disastrously once again from agriculture insecticides, plus egg thieves did not help, another of our birds that suffered was the buzzard, poison was really blame the game keepers of the time would inject a dead rabbit with the poison strychnine was one such thing it would kill anything that fed off the dead rabbit i am glad those days have gone but we still see it carried out by some unsavory characters , owls, were another that suffered quite severely but we now live in better times all that mattered years ago was the pheasant and the partridge on most estates the keeper would have to show the birds on shoot days to his boss and the many gentleman and ladies that took part in the days sport, if that did not happen his job would be at stake so the keeper took action by eliminating everything that threatened his livelihood i know this has nothing to do with fishing but it has been a big part of my life. well a bit more latter
I have been passionate about many things in the country side one such exercise was done by a friend we had a big incubator at the farm and we breed English grey partridge they had mostly all died out when he started to breed and let them go, that was a few years ago but we still have one or two coveys around today the birds prefer open grassland with dense cover for nesting they also loved the thick hedge rows which was used for nesting, but the greys really benefited uncultivated areas or wide unsprayed fields but unfortunately farming methods have really been to blame for there decline also the increase in foxes has had its effect, some will say but you breed them to shoot yes maybe but we were also trying help the population as it had fallen by about eighty percent in recent years it a beautiful little bird, that needs a chance no one in my syndicate dare shoot one we have put a total ban on touching them i hope over the years they will increase i may not be here to see it we will wait and see.
Another animal to see a very big decline was the hair going back into the sixties and seventies there were hundreds and on some of the big hair drives i attended it was nothing to see over one hundred shot in a day and that did not even make a dent in the population the big Shropshire estates made money from them it helped the estate out, but over the years in our county they started to disappear mainly due to insecticides spraying the fields i have found young leverets dead herbicides also caused death because it killed the natural diet it reduced the food the animal fed on but they are now making a steady come back it is another we have put a shooting ban on last year we started to see a few so i hope they breed and start to recover its really sad how man destroys the wild life more out of ignorance not understanding what the insecticides they were spraying did to our native wild life, it also effected fish in our streams polluting many water courses but things now seem to be on the mend.
The old game keepers persecuted many of our English falcons especially the peregrine, they were also shot in the war years to protect the homing pigeon and it also was infected disastrously once again from agriculture insecticides, plus egg thieves did not help, another of our birds that suffered was the buzzard, poison was really blame the game keepers of the time would inject a dead rabbit with the poison strychnine was one such thing it would kill anything that fed off the dead rabbit i am glad those days have gone but we still see it carried out by some unsavory characters , owls, were another that suffered quite severely but we now live in better times all that mattered years ago was the pheasant and the partridge on most estates the keeper would have to show the birds on shoot days to his boss and the many gentleman and ladies that took part in the days sport, if that did not happen his job would be at stake so the keeper took action by eliminating everything that threatened his livelihood i know this has nothing to do with fishing but it has been a big part of my life. well a bit more latter
In reply to Post #173
I have known a few poachers in my life one of the best was a chap called Joe hatton Joe lived for the wild life every thing he did was involved with the country side he was also a great naturalist i would go a long with him in those far off days he liked to catch wild birds all sorts from linnets to yellow hammers his Avery back home was something else bulfinch's gold finches you name it he had it he would use bird lime but also used traps funny i never did see him use mist nets he was conservationist and would let a fair proportion of the birds he reared out into the wild it is a few years since Joe died but i have fond memories him as a real English gentleman or should i say rogue but a nice rogue he would be away with his gun and walk the fields and hedge rows he never bothered whose land he was on as long as he shot a few pheasants. He was not a big drinking man but would go down the pub on our village it was called the three fishes he only went for one reason to make sure the keeper was in there he would say to me its funny how much you can learn when people have had a few drinks if the keeper was in he would be away picking up his gun and dog he would be down the fields and woods he had at least three hours before the keeper returned you would hear old Gerry coming he used an old BSA motor bike for his transport to the pub and back, i can see him now riding the bike back home to his cottage in the wood he would be excuse the pun pissed as a fart and had been known to fall off a few times the main road in those days was very quite and the police never said much to him about his drinking as the Sgt was a big friend and helped him out with the shoot.
poor old Gerry failed to turn up home one night and next morning his wife reported him missing they sent out a search part but did not have to look far he was lying next to his bike on the track that led to his cottage in the woods, but he was dead he must of had a heart attack as he rode the bike home it really upset old Joe as they had one or two ups and downs over the years but deep down Joe respected this old keeper i did also he was part of my life we played many games of cat and mouse i have told you about the time he shot at me, it was over my head when i was in cover but it was still a bit m frightening he always had two black labs with him but they were very docile and you never really got bothered by them they would bark if you got to close to there pen which was behind the house but joe had a trick or two up his sleave and would chuck a bit of meat into the pen i think they got quite used to him he walked where he liked and never once did he get caught but that was years ago in late fifties, i was only young my self i learned such a lot from old joe over the years and i still shed a tear when i think of those times long ago when i knew old joe and we walked together guns in hand. a bit more latter
I have known a few poachers in my life one of the best was a chap called Joe hatton Joe lived for the wild life every thing he did was involved with the country side he was also a great naturalist i would go a long with him in those far off days he liked to catch wild birds all sorts from linnets to yellow hammers his Avery back home was something else bulfinch's gold finches you name it he had it he would use bird lime but also used traps funny i never did see him use mist nets he was conservationist and would let a fair proportion of the birds he reared out into the wild it is a few years since Joe died but i have fond memories him as a real English gentleman or should i say rogue but a nice rogue he would be away with his gun and walk the fields and hedge rows he never bothered whose land he was on as long as he shot a few pheasants. He was not a big drinking man but would go down the pub on our village it was called the three fishes he only went for one reason to make sure the keeper was in there he would say to me its funny how much you can learn when people have had a few drinks if the keeper was in he would be away picking up his gun and dog he would be down the fields and woods he had at least three hours before the keeper returned you would hear old Gerry coming he used an old BSA motor bike for his transport to the pub and back, i can see him now riding the bike back home to his cottage in the wood he would be excuse the pun pissed as a fart and had been known to fall off a few times the main road in those days was very quite and the police never said much to him about his drinking as the Sgt was a big friend and helped him out with the shoot.
poor old Gerry failed to turn up home one night and next morning his wife reported him missing they sent out a search part but did not have to look far he was lying next to his bike on the track that led to his cottage in the woods, but he was dead he must of had a heart attack as he rode the bike home it really upset old Joe as they had one or two ups and downs over the years but deep down Joe respected this old keeper i did also he was part of my life we played many games of cat and mouse i have told you about the time he shot at me, it was over my head when i was in cover but it was still a bit m frightening he always had two black labs with him but they were very docile and you never really got bothered by them they would bark if you got to close to there pen which was behind the house but joe had a trick or two up his sleave and would chuck a bit of meat into the pen i think they got quite used to him he walked where he liked and never once did he get caught but that was years ago in late fifties, i was only young my self i learned such a lot from old joe over the years and i still shed a tear when i think of those times long ago when i knew old joe and we walked together guns in hand. a bit more latter
In reply to Post #174
It was some time in the early seventies when angling time approached Dennis Kelly and myself with a view to having a session on Bomere pool graham and i had got the lease, and we had caught some beautiful roach in the past some over the magic two pounds, Don bridge wood would be the photographer and the reporter he was free lance but did quite a bit of work for angling times we decided to ledger at night and float fish in the day the weather at the time was quite hot and i really did not fancy our chances it was to be a three day session the anglers present were Dennis Kelly of the big bream fame George bebbington, graham and myself i fished with graham in a double swim in those days it was the garden lounger and a big umbrella and for indicators we used the old ping pong balls with a low voltage bulb glued inside a light weight cable went to a small six vault motor cycle battery you clipped them on the line by using a hair grip glued into the top of the ping pong ball they were very sensitive i would clip them up- between butt ring and reel they would float on the water and looked like two small moons but on a serous note they did the job if you needed more weight you would pinch a couple of swan shot on to the cable you did not have to strain your eyes to see them they were something i knocked up at work and worked really well as i have stated before anything we were short of in those days we made our selves the herons were really not sensitive enough to use for the roach.
The ping pong balls hang from the rod
For ledgers i had spent some time making slow sinking ledgers using an arsley bomb and hollowing out a peace of cork the bomb would be glued in side then it would be cut down to size using a Stanley knife and sand paper until it was perfectly round making sure it sank very slowly. It would just rest on the bottom if it was silty, they were painted green or black then varnished to make them water proof, you would cast out and at times would get a take before the bait even reached the bottom, they were very sensitive and did the job . before midnight on the first night graham and i caught eight roach all over the magical two pounds with many more around half a pound it was fast and furious sport i know Dennis and the others had a few nice specimens as well, the float fishing was a lot harder using big floats over a ft long the problem was the sun it caused eye strain and a few of us ended up with bad headaches we had no decent glasses in those days, one thing that did happen was the pike moved in to feed off the roach that had come to our ground bait so it was out with our pike rods hooking small live baits on it was fast and furious sport and when hooked they would leave the water and tail walk in a spray of silver water it was wonderfull fishing we caught them to over sixteen pounds i really forget how many pounds of roach were actuly caught over the three days but it was a fair few and with the pike it put the icing on the cake that made a good story, but that was many years ago it still remains in my memory and only seems like yesterday. a bit more latter
Bomere in winter
It was some time in the early seventies when angling time approached Dennis Kelly and myself with a view to having a session on Bomere pool graham and i had got the lease, and we had caught some beautiful roach in the past some over the magic two pounds, Don bridge wood would be the photographer and the reporter he was free lance but did quite a bit of work for angling times we decided to ledger at night and float fish in the day the weather at the time was quite hot and i really did not fancy our chances it was to be a three day session the anglers present were Dennis Kelly of the big bream fame George bebbington, graham and myself i fished with graham in a double swim in those days it was the garden lounger and a big umbrella and for indicators we used the old ping pong balls with a low voltage bulb glued inside a light weight cable went to a small six vault motor cycle battery you clipped them on the line by using a hair grip glued into the top of the ping pong ball they were very sensitive i would clip them up- between butt ring and reel they would float on the water and looked like two small moons but on a serous note they did the job if you needed more weight you would pinch a couple of swan shot on to the cable you did not have to strain your eyes to see them they were something i knocked up at work and worked really well as i have stated before anything we were short of in those days we made our selves the herons were really not sensitive enough to use for the roach.
The ping pong balls hang from the rod
For ledgers i had spent some time making slow sinking ledgers using an arsley bomb and hollowing out a peace of cork the bomb would be glued in side then it would be cut down to size using a Stanley knife and sand paper until it was perfectly round making sure it sank very slowly. It would just rest on the bottom if it was silty, they were painted green or black then varnished to make them water proof, you would cast out and at times would get a take before the bait even reached the bottom, they were very sensitive and did the job . before midnight on the first night graham and i caught eight roach all over the magical two pounds with many more around half a pound it was fast and furious sport i know Dennis and the others had a few nice specimens as well, the float fishing was a lot harder using big floats over a ft long the problem was the sun it caused eye strain and a few of us ended up with bad headaches we had no decent glasses in those days, one thing that did happen was the pike moved in to feed off the roach that had come to our ground bait so it was out with our pike rods hooking small live baits on it was fast and furious sport and when hooked they would leave the water and tail walk in a spray of silver water it was wonderfull fishing we caught them to over sixteen pounds i really forget how many pounds of roach were actuly caught over the three days but it was a fair few and with the pike it put the icing on the cake that made a good story, but that was many years ago it still remains in my memory and only seems like yesterday. a bit more latter
Bomere in winter
In reply to Post #175
I have a great passion for my county as i am a shropshire lad we have the hills the plains rivers and lakes its gods own county one mile from where i live is lyth hill Mary webs cottage still stands on the lyth she lived there for many years and had it built to her own design she wrote many books one such book was gone to earth another precious bane she loved the lyth as she could see the longmynd and wenlock edge and the rolling plains, from there she loved to walk through the woods the same wood i told you all about when my mate johns dog Butch got shot and killed by the keeper looking back from there you can see the quarry where we shot the geese all those years ago it is also where they found the woolly mammoth and three youngsters they were over twelve thousand years old and they have now toured the country since being set up for all to see, Mary web was also a very good naturalist and loved nature she moved to London with her husband Henry who was a school teacher but it did not last her passion for the lyth was far to much so she returned after a short stay in London unfortunately she died very young at the age of forty six on the eigth of 0ctober 1927 and she is buried in the shrewsbury cemetery, in the film gone to earth it shows you a lake called the sarn infact it is really bomere where i poached the pheasants and also fished.
The road to the lyth in black and white
I am really very lucky to live in Mary web country it is beautiful you have the rolling plains the hills either side this is where i was born i love to stand on the lyth and see the sun set over hill country as i watch the sun sinking below the horizon i think about the times i have stood on those very hills, i have walked the hills and dales fished the mountain streams shot the duck on a september night on the big stubble fields have watched the vixen and her young on the mountain tops i have disturbed the grouse in all his splendor what a noise they make as the sail down and over the valley far below they are safe today the guns are quite there is only me what more could i want nothing and it is all free, looking back from the lyth you can see the woods where Acton lakes lie nestled below the tree lined woods looking to the left we have Bomere and shomere then Betton these lake are from the ice age then further over Berrington where i fished with jack Hilton and co you can see the small river that i poached years ago the keepers house it still stands at the end of the wood that we called bells wood how many times have i poached that wood to many times to remember the gate still stands shut the same gate i hung the trout on for old bell to say thank you. You can see it all if you stand on the lyth every time i look i shed a tear it has so many memories of a times long ago when i was a youth and could walk those hills and vales. more latter
a poem by mary web showing the pasion she had for nature and the country side
into the scented woods well go
and see the black thorn swim in snow
hight above in the budding leaves
a brooding dove awakes and grieves
the Glades with mingled music stir
And wildly laughs the woodpecker
when black thorn petals pearl the breeze
There are the twisted hawthorn tree
Thick set with buds as clear as pale
as golden water or green hail
As if a storm of rain had stood
Enchanted in the Thorny wood
and hearing fairy voices call
Hung poised forgetting how to fall
I have a great passion for my county as i am a shropshire lad we have the hills the plains rivers and lakes its gods own county one mile from where i live is lyth hill Mary webs cottage still stands on the lyth she lived there for many years and had it built to her own design she wrote many books one such book was gone to earth another precious bane she loved the lyth as she could see the longmynd and wenlock edge and the rolling plains, from there she loved to walk through the woods the same wood i told you all about when my mate johns dog Butch got shot and killed by the keeper looking back from there you can see the quarry where we shot the geese all those years ago it is also where they found the woolly mammoth and three youngsters they were over twelve thousand years old and they have now toured the country since being set up for all to see, Mary web was also a very good naturalist and loved nature she moved to London with her husband Henry who was a school teacher but it did not last her passion for the lyth was far to much so she returned after a short stay in London unfortunately she died very young at the age of forty six on the eigth of 0ctober 1927 and she is buried in the shrewsbury cemetery, in the film gone to earth it shows you a lake called the sarn infact it is really bomere where i poached the pheasants and also fished.
The road to the lyth in black and white
I am really very lucky to live in Mary web country it is beautiful you have the rolling plains the hills either side this is where i was born i love to stand on the lyth and see the sun set over hill country as i watch the sun sinking below the horizon i think about the times i have stood on those very hills, i have walked the hills and dales fished the mountain streams shot the duck on a september night on the big stubble fields have watched the vixen and her young on the mountain tops i have disturbed the grouse in all his splendor what a noise they make as the sail down and over the valley far below they are safe today the guns are quite there is only me what more could i want nothing and it is all free, looking back from the lyth you can see the woods where Acton lakes lie nestled below the tree lined woods looking to the left we have Bomere and shomere then Betton these lake are from the ice age then further over Berrington where i fished with jack Hilton and co you can see the small river that i poached years ago the keepers house it still stands at the end of the wood that we called bells wood how many times have i poached that wood to many times to remember the gate still stands shut the same gate i hung the trout on for old bell to say thank you. You can see it all if you stand on the lyth every time i look i shed a tear it has so many memories of a times long ago when i was a youth and could walk those hills and vales. more latter
a poem by mary web showing the pasion she had for nature and the country side
into the scented woods well go
and see the black thorn swim in snow
hight above in the budding leaves
a brooding dove awakes and grieves
the Glades with mingled music stir
And wildly laughs the woodpecker
when black thorn petals pearl the breeze
There are the twisted hawthorn tree
Thick set with buds as clear as pale
as golden water or green hail
As if a storm of rain had stood
Enchanted in the Thorny wood
and hearing fairy voices call
Hung poised forgetting how to fall
In reply to Post #176
I am finding it very hard not to be out fishing, but my health must come first i have severe stenosis of the spine and i am finding it hard to lift or sit for long periods it has really hit me hard as i have always been used to being down the fields or on some lake fishing but it has stopped me walking any distance so until i am sorted out i can only reminisce about times gone by and my love of the countryside and off course my fishing and shooting that have been part of my life. I have fished a good many lakes some legally some not one such lake nestled under the fringe lined trees of hill country i had gained permission to fish there from the farmer it had only an average depth of four feet and at times it could be very cold fishing there. But i loved the place and would float fish with maggot or bread i caught literally hundreds of crucian carp over the months i fished there, not big only about a pound occasionally you would hook into a tench i think the biggest i had was only four pounds i had ten in one session but that never happened very often it also held a few half decent carp mostly commons i always put one rod out for them and caught them to around eighteen pounds it was good fishing and i had it all to myself but alas that was years ago it is now rented by some fishing club they have improved the access and built a few stages to fish from but its not not for me any more i liked it as it was covered in lilies, with the sides of the lake reed fringed, all that has now gone why the lilies, i don't know they were poisoned by some sort of weed killer that was sprayed around the lake so they could get more swims for matches they now run, apparently the spray did not hurt the fish and only killed the weeds.
HOW man destroys his environment but that's exactly what they did on this lake when i fished it years ago it was beautifully covered in lilies and reed fringed now its all gone feature list its just like fishing in the middle of a ploughed field no bushes all gone what the farmer thinks i don't know but i suppose he is getting money for it which helps out as most are hill farmers breeding sheep a hard life some one said to me the other day why is lamb so dear to buy when the hills are covered with them, its not the farmer that makes the money its the middle man they also send them abroad they are then sent back and it pushes the money up a shameful exercise. I really wonder what we are coming to when i was young we had none of this we all lived together in harmony there was no greed as such every one helped one another i am a Shropshire lad and hate to see the land disappear building houses here and there we loose our wonderful wild life which is our heritage and needs to be looked after for the future generations so much has disappeared in my part of the countryside places where i walked and fished are now covered in houses and it still altering they are now talking about building on the green belt i really hope that does not happen as if it does i can see a time the country side will be a concrete jungle, it wont be in my life time but it may for the future generations i really wonder what houseman the poet would say about his beloved shropshire now, it was he who wrote the shropshire lad, well moan over a bit more latter
A poem from houseman from the shropshire lad
In my own shire, if I was sad,
Homely comforters I had:
The earth, because my heart was sore,
Sorrowed for the son she bore;
And standing hills, long to remain,
Shared their short-lived comrade's pain.
And bound for the same bourn as I,
On every road I wandered by,
Trod beside me, close and dear,
The beautiful and death-struck year:
Whether in the woodland brown
I heard the beechnut rustle down,
And saw the purple crocus pale
Flower about the autumn dale;
Or littering far the fields of May
Lady-smocks a-bleaching lay,
And like a skylit water stood
The bluebells in the azured wood.
Yonder, lightening other loads,
The seasons range the country roads,
But here in London streets I ken
No such helpmates, only men;
And these are not in plight to bear,
If they would, another's care.
They have enough as 'tis: I see
In many an eye that measures me
The mortal sickness of a mind
Too unhappy to be kind.
Undone with misery, all they can
Is to hate their fellow man;
And till they drop they needs must still
Look at you and wish
I am finding it very hard not to be out fishing, but my health must come first i have severe stenosis of the spine and i am finding it hard to lift or sit for long periods it has really hit me hard as i have always been used to being down the fields or on some lake fishing but it has stopped me walking any distance so until i am sorted out i can only reminisce about times gone by and my love of the countryside and off course my fishing and shooting that have been part of my life. I have fished a good many lakes some legally some not one such lake nestled under the fringe lined trees of hill country i had gained permission to fish there from the farmer it had only an average depth of four feet and at times it could be very cold fishing there. But i loved the place and would float fish with maggot or bread i caught literally hundreds of crucian carp over the months i fished there, not big only about a pound occasionally you would hook into a tench i think the biggest i had was only four pounds i had ten in one session but that never happened very often it also held a few half decent carp mostly commons i always put one rod out for them and caught them to around eighteen pounds it was good fishing and i had it all to myself but alas that was years ago it is now rented by some fishing club they have improved the access and built a few stages to fish from but its not not for me any more i liked it as it was covered in lilies, with the sides of the lake reed fringed, all that has now gone why the lilies, i don't know they were poisoned by some sort of weed killer that was sprayed around the lake so they could get more swims for matches they now run, apparently the spray did not hurt the fish and only killed the weeds.
HOW man destroys his environment but that's exactly what they did on this lake when i fished it years ago it was beautifully covered in lilies and reed fringed now its all gone feature list its just like fishing in the middle of a ploughed field no bushes all gone what the farmer thinks i don't know but i suppose he is getting money for it which helps out as most are hill farmers breeding sheep a hard life some one said to me the other day why is lamb so dear to buy when the hills are covered with them, its not the farmer that makes the money its the middle man they also send them abroad they are then sent back and it pushes the money up a shameful exercise. I really wonder what we are coming to when i was young we had none of this we all lived together in harmony there was no greed as such every one helped one another i am a Shropshire lad and hate to see the land disappear building houses here and there we loose our wonderful wild life which is our heritage and needs to be looked after for the future generations so much has disappeared in my part of the countryside places where i walked and fished are now covered in houses and it still altering they are now talking about building on the green belt i really hope that does not happen as if it does i can see a time the country side will be a concrete jungle, it wont be in my life time but it may for the future generations i really wonder what houseman the poet would say about his beloved shropshire now, it was he who wrote the shropshire lad, well moan over a bit more latter
A poem from houseman from the shropshire lad
In my own shire, if I was sad,
Homely comforters I had:
The earth, because my heart was sore,
Sorrowed for the son she bore;
And standing hills, long to remain,
Shared their short-lived comrade's pain.
And bound for the same bourn as I,
On every road I wandered by,
Trod beside me, close and dear,
The beautiful and death-struck year:
Whether in the woodland brown
I heard the beechnut rustle down,
And saw the purple crocus pale
Flower about the autumn dale;
Or littering far the fields of May
Lady-smocks a-bleaching lay,
And like a skylit water stood
The bluebells in the azured wood.
Yonder, lightening other loads,
The seasons range the country roads,
But here in London streets I ken
No such helpmates, only men;
And these are not in plight to bear,
If they would, another's care.
They have enough as 'tis: I see
In many an eye that measures me
The mortal sickness of a mind
Too unhappy to be kind.
Undone with misery, all they can
Is to hate their fellow man;
And till they drop they needs must still
Look at you and wish
In reply to Post #177
It seems just like yesterday when i first started fishing with my grandad i was only three years old its been a journey one i have enjoyed immensely i learned myself to fish as we lost my grandfather in 1947 my father got killed in the war so i had no one to teach me i learned the hard way but slowly persevered and started to catch fish as i got older i ventured further afield one of the nicest lakes i have ever fished was Acton burnell i poached it on and off for years until i got written permission from the owner it held some beautiful fish roach carp tench and of course pike i got to know the keepers quite well, when i was youngster there was Bert Howlett head keeper and peter jackson under keeper i must admit before i really knew them i poached the lakes they were both man made and as i said before between the two lakes was an eel trap i expect it is still there today the wild life was amazing just up the fields from the lakes was another pool it was in the woods it was absolutely full of Rudd i would go up there to catch my live bait for pike fishing they were not big the biggest only around half a pound how they got into this little pool god knows but they were the right size for live baiting i knew those woods back to front they held some very big shoot days there and some huge duck days i can see the gentlemen standing now and the ladies all dressed up in there tweeds, its one place i really never took many pheasants from as Bert had been very good to me letting me fish the top lake i would sit on the dam wall between the two lakes and fish for the pike i never caught any real big ones seven or eight pounds was the biggest but they were big to me.
Just down the road from the burnell was another pool not big but covered in lilies it was private and the farmer would let no one fish there but i was determined to have a go it was so awkward because of the trees around the pool and the big lillie beds but i got to know the farmers son and he took me a couple of times we managed to fish in holes between the weed and Lilly beds but it was useless you would hook into a good fish then loose him because of the weeds we did manage to land a couple they were mostly tench the farmer would not let you cut any weeds out, i think it was also used for duck shooting i went this one day and his son said we could not go anymore as his dad had played hell with him for taking me there, so it was rather short lived the pool is still there but you never see anyone fishing it. just down the road was another lake it stood in the grounds of this big black and white mansion i had some great times fishing there i would poach the lake right under the owners and keepers nose it held carp and i caught them to just under ten pounds i got to know the Gardner who had a son called Roy he would say if you get caught Pete they will throw the book at you i must admit it was strictly private and once again it was used for shooting i got chased a couple of times and the police were called but that was my own fault for taking some one else with me they must of heard us talking but i had some happy times fishing on that lake over the years, i would be about sixteen years old and would cycle from my village of Bayston hill hiding my bike in the under growth then i would cross the fields into the grounds of the hall . a bit more latter
It seems just like yesterday when i first started fishing with my grandad i was only three years old its been a journey one i have enjoyed immensely i learned myself to fish as we lost my grandfather in 1947 my father got killed in the war so i had no one to teach me i learned the hard way but slowly persevered and started to catch fish as i got older i ventured further afield one of the nicest lakes i have ever fished was Acton burnell i poached it on and off for years until i got written permission from the owner it held some beautiful fish roach carp tench and of course pike i got to know the keepers quite well, when i was youngster there was Bert Howlett head keeper and peter jackson under keeper i must admit before i really knew them i poached the lakes they were both man made and as i said before between the two lakes was an eel trap i expect it is still there today the wild life was amazing just up the fields from the lakes was another pool it was in the woods it was absolutely full of Rudd i would go up there to catch my live bait for pike fishing they were not big the biggest only around half a pound how they got into this little pool god knows but they were the right size for live baiting i knew those woods back to front they held some very big shoot days there and some huge duck days i can see the gentlemen standing now and the ladies all dressed up in there tweeds, its one place i really never took many pheasants from as Bert had been very good to me letting me fish the top lake i would sit on the dam wall between the two lakes and fish for the pike i never caught any real big ones seven or eight pounds was the biggest but they were big to me.
Just down the road from the burnell was another pool not big but covered in lilies it was private and the farmer would let no one fish there but i was determined to have a go it was so awkward because of the trees around the pool and the big lillie beds but i got to know the farmers son and he took me a couple of times we managed to fish in holes between the weed and Lilly beds but it was useless you would hook into a good fish then loose him because of the weeds we did manage to land a couple they were mostly tench the farmer would not let you cut any weeds out, i think it was also used for duck shooting i went this one day and his son said we could not go anymore as his dad had played hell with him for taking me there, so it was rather short lived the pool is still there but you never see anyone fishing it. just down the road was another lake it stood in the grounds of this big black and white mansion i had some great times fishing there i would poach the lake right under the owners and keepers nose it held carp and i caught them to just under ten pounds i got to know the Gardner who had a son called Roy he would say if you get caught Pete they will throw the book at you i must admit it was strictly private and once again it was used for shooting i got chased a couple of times and the police were called but that was my own fault for taking some one else with me they must of heard us talking but i had some happy times fishing on that lake over the years, i would be about sixteen years old and would cycle from my village of Bayston hill hiding my bike in the under growth then i would cross the fields into the grounds of the hall . a bit more latter