What comes next is a story I wrote to participate in a contest held on a fishing site. 'S dedicated to my grandfather (fortunately still alive!), A story of some time together several years ago, that share the same passion: fishing. Just because
written by a fisherman, for fishermen, for those not "Sector" may find some passages difficult to understand.
I hope will be an interesting read.
Ennerik
GRANDFATHER ARMANDO
I was 10 or 11 years old when my grandfather gave me the first fishing rod for my birthday: a 4-meter fiberglass Bologna! I was the happiest person in the world ...
Before that I had often followed in his fishing trips, staying there to watch it for hours without ever getting bored with his own intrepid waiting to see the float sink.
The passions may skip a generation, like some strange disease, not just because my father He has never wanted to know, I've never taken a cane in his hand ... but my grandfather was a real fisherman!
I say "was" not because it is dead (poor, God forbid!), But only because, unfortunately, because of health, he had to stop to go fishing.
After a passion for fishing is a disease! I noticed when I started to walk miles and miles by bicycle to be able to take some cavedanello in small rivers that were in my area, or when I went to sleep by my grandfather to get up early the next morning, and I could not close eye for the agitation.
I thought this was a feeling that would be diminished over time, with the habit to go fishing, but I was wrong ... all right if I was wrong ... Even now, after
20'anni of heel elevator, still can not sleep at night if the morning after I go fishing in a new place, or in one particularly fascinates me, not to mention the hundreds and hundreds of miles each year grind to go fishing!
When I started to follow him was already retired, although very young, went into early retirement by FIAT (... those good old days ...), I was told that often when the night came from the factory, he went fishing with a colleague in mountain streams in search of trout.
In her closet dedicated to fishing, I found both plastic canes (yes, plastic!) with the cork handle, which he used to fish with the spoon, which the bamboo rods to fish for grafts to the touch.
Unfortunately when we started to go fishing together, was already beginning to have problems with arthritis is that of back pain, and could not fish nor water, nor do long walks along the streams.
This fish was the one with the Bologna from the "block" (that's how he calls him), or those bends of rivers with large blocks of reinforced concrete to prevent erosion of the banks, well, also became my fishing, and it remained so for many years ...
These traits are characterized by very slow current and discrete depth, especially ideal for undermining chub, rudd and bleak, occasionally, moving perhaps a dozen feet, you could catch barbel and roach (which has always called my grandfather " marzenghe).
The first time took me finally to fish with my rod, as was explained in detail as a frame and hooks were tied, had to insist on it being a bit '... be able to run with the Bolognese I was not very difficult because I had a lot of training at home using her old spinning rods (if you can call it) to play Point, her Siamese cat: I put a reel on a thin string, such as ones to tie the roast, at the end I tied a piece of wood and then cast close to the cat, or cat, I was not very accurate, and When recovered, he was the ambushes and jumped on him, a real fun! And you can not imagine how much pulling.
Returning to our first issue, I said that I had no major problems in the launch, but one thing was to stick the launch point, launch another float, sinker, swivel and tangles that I love ... ... after several minutes my grandfather spent trying to untangle the disaster and redoing my frames, I said something prophetic: "This is the last time I do, the next you manage, you'll never learn otherwise."
I managed to do a couple of passes and then came yet another tangle. I looked at my grandfather with his eyes soft but not tender. After half an hour spent running a wire here and one there, I was finally able to leave the frame, as proud as a king, I see the result of much hard work and he said: "As you are also able alone!? "
It was not long (maybe 15 minutes), and I was still tinkering with my mess and this time there was nothing to do: I had to cut. The party on lead and swivel was not complicated, I love you mount the other hand, because it was a tiny hook of "20", but I told myself that if I tied my grandfather with his big hands, I should absolutely do it too! After several failed attempts, finally I managed somehow to fit the hook attached to the line although, frankly, was not so convinced with my result.
note I could see the goodness of my reasons at the first pitch: bite, railway, Pescetti, via Pescetto (with its love). I complained to his grandfather and then he showed me again how you tied the hook. Sbagliai not more. Still
never buy you love-related, I'd rather do it myself so I know who to blame if the node should fail, and in this way, it seems to me that there is more versatility with a few hooks and a few wire diameters.
The best time began when the elder matured, taught me to fish for chub with this lure and I must say always with excellent results. Floats 1 gram and a half, at most 1.80, 0.08 and terminals of the micro-anchors that were completely covered by a single grain of elderberries! The bait to trigger a needle was inserted into the slot of the terminal that was attached to the hook of the main line.
I am reminded of an anecdote about the first time we went fishing with this system ... I was fortunate enough to attack what for me was the chub biggest I've ever taken (was a bit 'more than a pound), my grandfather helped me a step, I was excited! I took it gently with a cloth and gently slamai him, as I was put in the screen (at the time the pot even knew what they were), with a flick earned freedom ... the only way to explain how I felt at that moment is to say that I was going to cry! Who would have thought that catching sight unseen? They all thought I was a liar! These were the thoughts that go through your head. I was sad for it was over, but I was happy because I managed to pull it out by myself, I, even though the others would not believe me, I knew the truth.
Instead, upon our return, it was the grandfather to weave my praises and say what I had been good and I felt like I was the world champion!
brought me so many times to fish, almost always a chub, and as often as we took more rare were the times when we went to the Lombard shore of the river Sesia in Newfoundland. We lived in a village in the northeastern province of Turin, then to reach the chosen place we used to take about an hour and a half, also considering that my grandfather had a 900 Ford Fiesta is not exactly new ...
, when we went there to fish were times when I was sleeping at his house to go early the next morning. Most of the time we spent the evening playing cards, we always spent many hours playing cards together, even if we did not have to go fishing, I was a real fan, and my grandfather was no exception.
Around 22:00, 22.30 went to sleep, more than anything else he went to sleep, I spent most of the night trying to imagine how it would go the next day, listening to the ticking of the clock and the "gentle snoring of his grandfather, a trombone true!
At 4 o'clock sounded the alarm, usually by then I had just dozed off, but I shot up like a spring, I was dressing at the speed of light while he was preparing the coffee-milk, after a quick breakfast we left to load the car and when the night was still deep.
We stopped to take the maggots in a bar-shop-for-fishing after Chiasso, just when it began to dawn. Usually we get finally to the destination when the sun began to rise. I can still smell the river with the slight haze that hovered over the water lens, giving the impression of being almost in a film which tells of prehistoric landscapes, the dew was wet all over and the fish were jumping here and there for that ' loop do not know how my grandfather had managed to find a place so far from home.
managed to take lots of chub, never too great, no more than one pound, but really great number.
At noon we stopped for lunch (in this he was always very precise, even at home, and if not for that hour everything was ready, began to grumble and complain), the meal was now standard: a can of tuna head of grain, bread and a few packs of crackers; essential but effective.
Luck of the place was his exposure and the fact that they have over us, but very high, so thick vegetation, even in summer, you could fish up to 16.00. As soon as the lslands began to turn towards us, we began to disassemble the equipment and went home, I always upset, certainly a small company during the trip because he spent almost entirely sleeping.
31'anni Now I and my grandfather is now a long time that does not draw more, in the meantime, technology has made great strides and those that were at the time the barrels for a select few, that is the reeds carbon today are those that we all, always lighter, stronger and stronger.
Since 2000, I moved to the province of Trento and when I go to see him, tell him that I bought the equipment, the fish I caught, the new places they have gone fishing and I see his eyes light up. I do not know what I'd give to be able to do more fishing with him.
But who knows, maybe I can convince him this summer ....
written by a fisherman, for fishermen, for those not "Sector" may find some passages difficult to understand.
I hope will be an interesting read.
Ennerik
GRANDFATHER ARMANDO
I was 10 or 11 years old when my grandfather gave me the first fishing rod for my birthday: a 4-meter fiberglass Bologna! I was the happiest person in the world ...
Before that I had often followed in his fishing trips, staying there to watch it for hours without ever getting bored with his own intrepid waiting to see the float sink.
The passions may skip a generation, like some strange disease, not just because my father He has never wanted to know, I've never taken a cane in his hand ... but my grandfather was a real fisherman!
I say "was" not because it is dead (poor, God forbid!), But only because, unfortunately, because of health, he had to stop to go fishing.
After a passion for fishing is a disease! I noticed when I started to walk miles and miles by bicycle to be able to take some cavedanello in small rivers that were in my area, or when I went to sleep by my grandfather to get up early the next morning, and I could not close eye for the agitation.
I thought this was a feeling that would be diminished over time, with the habit to go fishing, but I was wrong ... all right if I was wrong ... Even now, after
20'anni of heel elevator, still can not sleep at night if the morning after I go fishing in a new place, or in one particularly fascinates me, not to mention the hundreds and hundreds of miles each year grind to go fishing!
When I started to follow him was already retired, although very young, went into early retirement by FIAT (... those good old days ...), I was told that often when the night came from the factory, he went fishing with a colleague in mountain streams in search of trout.
In her closet dedicated to fishing, I found both plastic canes (yes, plastic!) with the cork handle, which he used to fish with the spoon, which the bamboo rods to fish for grafts to the touch.
Unfortunately when we started to go fishing together, was already beginning to have problems with arthritis is that of back pain, and could not fish nor water, nor do long walks along the streams.
This fish was the one with the Bologna from the "block" (that's how he calls him), or those bends of rivers with large blocks of reinforced concrete to prevent erosion of the banks, well, also became my fishing, and it remained so for many years ...
These traits are characterized by very slow current and discrete depth, especially ideal for undermining chub, rudd and bleak, occasionally, moving perhaps a dozen feet, you could catch barbel and roach (which has always called my grandfather " marzenghe).
The first time took me finally to fish with my rod, as was explained in detail as a frame and hooks were tied, had to insist on it being a bit '... be able to run with the Bolognese I was not very difficult because I had a lot of training at home using her old spinning rods (if you can call it) to play Point, her Siamese cat: I put a reel on a thin string, such as ones to tie the roast, at the end I tied a piece of wood and then cast close to the cat, or cat, I was not very accurate, and When recovered, he was the ambushes and jumped on him, a real fun! And you can not imagine how much pulling.
Returning to our first issue, I said that I had no major problems in the launch, but one thing was to stick the launch point, launch another float, sinker, swivel and tangles that I love ... ... after several minutes my grandfather spent trying to untangle the disaster and redoing my frames, I said something prophetic: "This is the last time I do, the next you manage, you'll never learn otherwise."
I managed to do a couple of passes and then came yet another tangle. I looked at my grandfather with his eyes soft but not tender. After half an hour spent running a wire here and one there, I was finally able to leave the frame, as proud as a king, I see the result of much hard work and he said: "As you are also able alone!? "
It was not long (maybe 15 minutes), and I was still tinkering with my mess and this time there was nothing to do: I had to cut. The party on lead and swivel was not complicated, I love you mount the other hand, because it was a tiny hook of "20", but I told myself that if I tied my grandfather with his big hands, I should absolutely do it too! After several failed attempts, finally I managed somehow to fit the hook attached to the line although, frankly, was not so convinced with my result.
note I could see the goodness of my reasons at the first pitch: bite, railway, Pescetti, via Pescetto (with its love). I complained to his grandfather and then he showed me again how you tied the hook. Sbagliai not more. Still
never buy you love-related, I'd rather do it myself so I know who to blame if the node should fail, and in this way, it seems to me that there is more versatility with a few hooks and a few wire diameters.
The best time began when the elder matured, taught me to fish for chub with this lure and I must say always with excellent results. Floats 1 gram and a half, at most 1.80, 0.08 and terminals of the micro-anchors that were completely covered by a single grain of elderberries! The bait to trigger a needle was inserted into the slot of the terminal that was attached to the hook of the main line.
I am reminded of an anecdote about the first time we went fishing with this system ... I was fortunate enough to attack what for me was the chub biggest I've ever taken (was a bit 'more than a pound), my grandfather helped me a step, I was excited! I took it gently with a cloth and gently slamai him, as I was put in the screen (at the time the pot even knew what they were), with a flick earned freedom ... the only way to explain how I felt at that moment is to say that I was going to cry! Who would have thought that catching sight unseen? They all thought I was a liar! These were the thoughts that go through your head. I was sad for it was over, but I was happy because I managed to pull it out by myself, I, even though the others would not believe me, I knew the truth.
Instead, upon our return, it was the grandfather to weave my praises and say what I had been good and I felt like I was the world champion!
brought me so many times to fish, almost always a chub, and as often as we took more rare were the times when we went to the Lombard shore of the river Sesia in Newfoundland. We lived in a village in the northeastern province of Turin, then to reach the chosen place we used to take about an hour and a half, also considering that my grandfather had a 900 Ford Fiesta is not exactly new ...
, when we went there to fish were times when I was sleeping at his house to go early the next morning. Most of the time we spent the evening playing cards, we always spent many hours playing cards together, even if we did not have to go fishing, I was a real fan, and my grandfather was no exception.
Around 22:00, 22.30 went to sleep, more than anything else he went to sleep, I spent most of the night trying to imagine how it would go the next day, listening to the ticking of the clock and the "gentle snoring of his grandfather, a trombone true!
At 4 o'clock sounded the alarm, usually by then I had just dozed off, but I shot up like a spring, I was dressing at the speed of light while he was preparing the coffee-milk, after a quick breakfast we left to load the car and when the night was still deep.
We stopped to take the maggots in a bar-shop-for-fishing after Chiasso, just when it began to dawn. Usually we get finally to the destination when the sun began to rise. I can still smell the river with the slight haze that hovered over the water lens, giving the impression of being almost in a film which tells of prehistoric landscapes, the dew was wet all over and the fish were jumping here and there for that ' loop do not know how my grandfather had managed to find a place so far from home.
managed to take lots of chub, never too great, no more than one pound, but really great number.
At noon we stopped for lunch (in this he was always very precise, even at home, and if not for that hour everything was ready, began to grumble and complain), the meal was now standard: a can of tuna head of grain, bread and a few packs of crackers; essential but effective.
Luck of the place was his exposure and the fact that they have over us, but very high, so thick vegetation, even in summer, you could fish up to 16.00. As soon as the lslands began to turn towards us, we began to disassemble the equipment and went home, I always upset, certainly a small company during the trip because he spent almost entirely sleeping.
31'anni Now I and my grandfather is now a long time that does not draw more, in the meantime, technology has made great strides and those that were at the time the barrels for a select few, that is the reeds carbon today are those that we all, always lighter, stronger and stronger.
Since 2000, I moved to the province of Trento and when I go to see him, tell him that I bought the equipment, the fish I caught, the new places they have gone fishing and I see his eyes light up. I do not know what I'd give to be able to do more fishing with him.
But who knows, maybe I can convince him this summer ....
