As usual
the start towards Reefton for my four days of “father without family fishing
excursion” happened a little later than planned, but it was still early and
close to dawn. Driving south towards Murchison I immediately saw the result of
the cold day before: snow on the mountains, close to freezing temperatures and
fog in some valleys. Autumn was there and could not be neglected any longer.
In
Murchison the good cappuccino showed high attraction and made me to stop and have
a short break with a slice of cake. Sitting there on the chimney in the Café a
man came in and asked “is that car outside your car” I did not recognize him
and was a little irritated as I was parking against driving direction. It was
Tony from Overland rental on a tour with some clients. NZ SI is a village.
With an
open eye especially on long straight sections of the road, because that is the
kind of road the speed limit enforcement officers (aka Police) prefer most of the
time to tell the driver “You did drive 1XX km/h – you were to fast!”, I reached
Reefton and continued to the access of the river. Dirt road, packing the final
stuff in the pack including tent, Neoair mattress (the lightest and most
comfortable mattress but unfortunately after around 30 nights the first and
second series tend to loose air – a known production problem as they changed
the design considerably in the meantime), sleeping bag and food for one night,
I was ready and set to start this little adventure. The steep slippery access
was kind of funny with the pack. Arriving on the river around noon I pretty
much immediately spotted the first trout and prepared my rod. Leaving the big
pack on the bank to fish the single pools just with the small watertight pack.
For the
night I intended to set up camp close to a major creek entering the main river. I
found a very neat spot: a few square meters of sand close to the high bank, sheltered
and surrounded by big rounded granite boulders and driftwood, fallen trees and
a log jam. A perfect place with lots of firewood around. It was not so much up
the river as intended but further up the next day I did not find anything comparable.
Dropping the big pack there and continuing upstream to catch the last fish of
the day. It did not long to find the next and the next brown but they were soon
suspicious so I continued to find the last catchable fish and caught it – a nice
5 ¾ lbs brown. The fish on that day did prefer some rather large may-fly
emerger in dark brown, size 12, with black tungsten bead head fished rather
high in the water column. But some of them again were fooled by the ESPT nymph
size 14.
Finally I checked
in at the camp aka “Sand-Flat Hilton” at around 6pm. I had to get a fire
burning to dry all my wet things and especially the wet waders from the dip
caused by chasing the seven-pounder. Starting to unpack my pack and unwrapping
the tent – or at least what I thought to be a complete tent – I realized that
the poles where missing altogether. Exactly that happened what I was afraid of
as I checked the tent back, not by unpacking but by touch on completeness. My
reaction was undecided between: ‘rush back to the car before its dark’ or ‘you
fool - no find a bail out’. I knew it would become a funny night with a half collapsed
tent as I expected temperatures close to freezing. Now it paid that I choose
the camp right in the middle of obstacles and had some meters of cord with me
(6-10 meters of 5mm cord – always a good back up! An other item not to be missed are light flip flops and medium thick merino socks - in combination that gives you dry camp shoes). Before trying to set up the
tent I tried to start a fire as this would be the alternative to the tent:
having a fire up all night. This worked out though the branches where still wet
from the last rain. This was done, so the tent. With some technical
constructions of the available cords, trunks, stones, boulders I managed to set up a form
that looked like a tent at least. It was time to get rid of the wet waders,
build a construction to smoke them – I mean dry them and the other wet clothes.
It was pretty much like baking a cake: keeping the right temperature and not to
burn the waders. Plenty of firewood was available so the fire was nice and
warm. After a while and some very relaxed hours sitting and lying on the
campfire I started the dinner preparations: butter chicken with rise. Unfortunately
I was lazy and brought only one can of beer. The clothes and the waders got
dry, I only burned the wading socks slightly. Lying beside the warm campfire
and gazing at the thousands of stars on the firmament above I thought silently
smiling: That is fishing! What a blast – it could not get better. (Might be
with tent poles…).
The night
in the kind of tent was cold and I did not get much sleep. Next time we would definitely
need the Yeti VIB 600 sleeping bags instead of the ultra-light VIB 250 bags.
Happy to
reach the car and driving out and over to Reefton, sending a message to Ines
that I was back in the car as soon as I got coverage. That was a real nice
adventure! Next time: check the tent.
Welcome
home – I arrived at the familiar cottage in Reefton, had a Tortellini dinner a
few beers, a movie in the TV and was ready for a solid sleep in a warm bed with
no sandflies…
Two more
days on another river to follow.