The spark that lit the flame

In 1977 I left the army and began life as a civilian, my father was suffering from severe heart problems, which were probably partly related to some of my active service and he had subsequently spent many weeks off work. Without work or a liveable wage my Dad used to get seriously depressed, two young daughters still at school and a mortgage to pay, etc. I imagine he felt awful.

One day while cleaning my old mini, I got chatting to a guy who had a 1964 Bedford Dormobile for sale, the thought of cheap holidays for my parents and sisters (something they had not had for several years) not to mention myself and the then tidy sum of fifty pounds changed hands. For the next few weeks my Dad was in his element, slowly repairing and preparing this old bus. With all necessary work carried out my Dad, Mom and sisters set off to Weymouth for a their holiday. Sadly, a few days into this holiday, my Dad suffered another heart attack and was cared for in the local hospital. He never returned home and of course the family were devastated. A few weeks later my brother and I returned to Weymouth to recover that old Bedford. My memory of what happened to that camper is a blank, I do know that I never got to use it.

Today, I saw an old but tidy Bedford Dormobile that brought all of those memories flooding back. The roof lifts up at an angle of about 45 degrees and two bunks are suspended in the cutaway of the roof. The kitchen is at the rear and consists of nothing more than a two burner hob and grill and a few small cupboards. There is no on board toilet, fridge or heater. By today's standards, it would not really qualify as much more than a poorly equipped "day van" but for me it was the spark that lit the flame. Those young mans thoughts of limitless holidays with maybe a girlfriend or two, going anywhere desire would take me, made more of an impression than I realised at the time. The fixed bed in our current van is just about the size of the complete interior of this old van, we can stand comfortably anywhere inside without having to lift the roof up and when the days are cold we turn on the central heating. My word, how things have changed. This Bedford is 46 years old and it has probably worn better than myself, I can not imagine what improvements motorhomes will have when our current van is a similar age.

Tales of the river bank

Over the weekend I treated myself to a new fishing rod, and while I was waiting for the opportunity to put it to use I made a few flies. Because the trout season is almost at an end for 2010, the flies that I tied are some that I understand to be useful for tempting grayling. Today, we changed location, to a site in Staffordshire with a very small but pleasant river running through it. I have caught grayling here before, all I had to do now was to find them. The river bank was very overgrown and access to the water was difficult but with care not impossible. Despite the recent rainfall the river level was low, add to that the amount of vegetation which invaded the water and the river in places was not much more than a trickle. It took only half an hour or so to find signs of fish feeding and so I made my way into the flow and began fishing. A kingfisher flashed under my rod, skimming the water with wings whirring quietly and banking sharply round an upstream bend. My attention back on my fly and a fish jumped noisily, close to my fly. Within seconds another splosh as it snatched my fly below the surface. The line tightened and my rod bent into a tight curve as the fish headed off downstream. It was a good fish, my tackle was light so I played it slowly and cautiously so as not to break the fine line that was tied to the fly. I soon saw that the fish was a chub, clean bright silver with bright orange fins. I have never landed a chub before, I released it as quickly as possible and watched it swim away. While my heart settled, I rolled and smoked a cigarette as I changed the fly for another that I had made. The kingfisher, flashed by, in the opposite direction and distracted me momentarily. I fished on and it wasn't many minutes before my fly was attacked with a vicious attack by a grayling. Carefully again, I brought it to the net, but this time it took a little longer. I was impressed with the performance of the rod and also with my concoction of fur and feather. For me, a rewarding hour or two and I returned to the truck quite satisfied, for the time being.

Transition

We have made a move back to Staffordshire, we have to make the transition from summer to winter equipment. It is a chore that neither of us enjoy, but because space in the truck is somewhat restricted we have to do this at least twice a year. Any summer weight clothing gets ousted and replaced with more seasonal items. We put in larger electric heaters and a few electric cooking devices, we will be paying for electric hook ups now and so we use it. Our movements usually get more restricted at this time of year because hard standing also becomes a priority, three and a half tons on wet grass with front wheel drive can get entertaining, particularly after being in one spot for more than a day. We learnt long ago to always carry and park on heavy duty rubber mats, it can often provide enough traction to move out of the depressions in the ground caused by the wheels in order to get moving and when the ground is very wet we have used them to slowly lay tracks until firmer ground is reached.

The trout season is coming to an end and so my fishing excursions will be to target Grayling instead, I have tied a few new flies in preparation. This year I need to review the internal lighting in the truck, our ageing eyes struggle in all but the best light, to do close work and given both of our hobbies this can be restricting.

There are good points about being out through the winter, everywhere is generally quieter, the views open up with less foliage about and we usually see more wildlife as a result. Access to the river banks is less of a struggle and the atmosphere seems crisper for photography. So, with October round the corner and Christmas a few weeks away, we hope to be ready.

Just routine

The last day or so I have received a couple of complaints about the lack of input to "The Trail", well I have been sometimes lazy and others busy, you know, just routine. We left Staffordshire and headed off for Wales about a month ago, the nearer to the coast we got, the wilder the weather became. Had we made a mistake? As things turned out, not at all. The first hour on the site we sat indoors while the rain hammered the roof then for three weeks we could almost count the rain drops. We were back on the Lleyn peninsula, a favourite place for us. During the first day or two we met a guy called "Mac", a real gentleman who spent a great deal of his time giving me tuition with my fly fishing technique and half the contents of his fly box. We spent many happy hours together, enjoying our pass time and putting the world to rights. About a week into our stay, we were joined by our good friend Andy from Yorkshire. The same day, our friend Damon and his wife Erica arrived from Bolton in their 1966 Ford Cortina 1600E which had been restored to a very high standard. It was great to see everyone again. Over the week, we spent much time together, had loads of laughs and of course a little fishing.

Last Thursday we departed Wales bound for Malpas in Cheshire. We went to the vintage vehicle rally where we had a good few days before moving here to Shrewsbury. Odd days here and there, I have tried to extend my leather work ability, specially the tooling process. I have made a few belts, they fascinate me somewhat and every stage is a challenge for me.This is one that I attempted, in a traditional design, of the style that is used in America. The pattern repeats about every eight inches and is 1 1/2 inches wide. I have to say, I did not find it easy, sitting in the sunshine, ten feet from the river and listening to the trout splash every now and again as they snapped up some tasty unfortunate fly. From start to finish, this belt took about 25 hours to complete. This next belt is a pictorial carving making a continually changing North American scene as it is viewed along its length. I do not feel that the photograph does it justice, as it looks a little "flat" seen in this way. I made this belt because Pat kept on at me to give it a try, as it happens, I think that it has turned out OK. I haven't posted pictures of it's full length, but here is a little more.

The nights here have been punctuated by the heavy throb of low flying Chinook helicopters, I wish they would come over in the daylight, I love to see this aircraft. Yesterday we had home made apple pie and custard, which was made with apples that Pat took from an adjacent tree. Trouble is, she made so much that we could not eat it all and so she gave half of it away and for my evening meal today, I ate the last of the trout that I had in the freezer box. So that's it, you're up to date.