As we are on the last day of the river season, possibly the last ever if a vote to abolish it goes through. I'm stuck at my desk with my mind naturally rolling over past season ends. I have been so fortunate to have had some pretty spectacular last evening's etc, but this tale is something very different, a chance encounter that you couldn't have possibly dreamt up.
It is nice once in a while to be able to angle with people we haven’t or rarely get to fish with.
I guess I must have known Bob Brookes for 30 odd years now after swapping many a brown paper bag of fishing tackle for his hard earned, for many years before his retirement. I guess a lot of the Nottinghamshire/Derbyshire based anglers used the tackle shop for a little lunchtime therapy after a gruelling morning at work.
I always enjoyed serving Bob, his cheerful face would brighten many a day and one of the minority you could enjoy a sensible relaxed conversation with.
Hang on a minute, time to change tract, it’s starting to sound like a obituary and after watch Bob stomp across the fields the other day with a full pack, shortly after a session in the gym, this is far from being a obituary.