The other week I ran from Plains to Bathgate, a grand total of 15 miles. For the most part this was off road, either on tracks or cross-country, with a bit of road running at either end. My legs ached a bit afterwards, but everything seemed okay. However that night as I went to go out to my car I had an intense pain in my left foot, which saw me on painkillers for the next week. As I was going on holiday this was to be a bit inconvenient, but I got by. It did stop me doing any serious walking, and towards the end of the holiday I did manage a short walk. I headed off to a place where I had once fished as a boy. I hadn’t been to this place for around 25 years, each year promising to go but never getting round to it. It was a short hobble uphill, not as far as I remembered, which makes it all the more surprising that no one goes here. As I recalled little had changed, apart from the addition of a deer fence, crossed with some difficulty.
I initially would just come walking here, but I did take my fishing rod up once, and using the smallest spinner available caught a small wild brown trout or two. While small they did give a fight far greater than their size would suggest they could. After clambering down to the pool I set up my rod, attached the smallest lure, cast it in and BANG! First cast saw a small, lean and dark brown trout on the bank. Just around the 10 inch mark, it was borderline takeable, but I wasn’t looking to break any records. I unhooked it, and placed it back in the water, where it darted off into the black depths.
I stayed for around an hour, casting in spinners, getting a few bites, all of which got free, and taking photographs. Then back for a quick wander round the nearby loch, before turning for home. This is another place I hope I can visit more than once every 25 years, a gap which is far too long.
Where is it though? Well, I could tell you, but then it wouldn’t be a secret, would it?