The Monk
Friday had eventually arrived, I’d had a busy week in the office and Ron was due to arrive at my gaff just after tea. Slivering away for an early finish after work, I arrived home just before 5pm and thought I’d get an hour or so before Ron arrived. No sooner had I spread out on the sofa than Ron came through the door, I think he must have found a short cut from Rotherham to North Manks as he’d made the journey in record time.
So rapidly removing the guitars, amps, effect pedals and cat from Ron’s bed in the spare room, we were soon on our way down to the local den for a meal and a few pints followed by an early night, ready for an early start down to Boundary.
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| He (Ron) will never live this down! |
Well that was the plan at least, but it didn’t quite work out like that. The girlfriend woke me early on Saturday morning, the cat was ill and we needed to get it to the vets, nightmare, so leaving poor Ron in the house I had to take both the cat and the girl friend up to the vets, fortunately managing to dump them both. The early start finished up more like lunch time before we got away.
Soooooooo, eventually we set off along the mighty M60 Manky ring road, not a bad run really and within the hour we had arrived at Knutsford and called in a café for breakfast come lunch. A strange place Knutsford, the people are a bit weird, you’d think they had never seen a monk and a Rotherite eating a sausage and egg muffins before; still it takes all sorts I suppose.
Out of Knutsford and back on to the A50 again and we eventually found Boundary Park water, missing the main entrance due to my brakes taking a little time to kick in, we did an handbrake right turn which fired us towards the rear of the lake (just, phew!), the delightful doggers lane.
The first person we met was none other than Graham himself, first time I’d ever met him, a bit of an anti climax I suppose. Next we met Spiders, Posh, Mr Perkins, Slime, and Neil Maidment, what lovely chaps, a nicer bunch you couldn’t wish to meet.
Shortly after our extremely warm welcome I adjusted me habit, as you do, and went for a walk around the lake. First chap I met on my reccy was Sean, I recognised Sean right away being a great fan of his writings, I then made my way to the BBQ main area, but this part was a little blurred as me cowl kept blowing in me face.
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| Monk in his haunting mode. |
Eventually arriving at the infamous BBQ it was nice to finally catch up with Mr Cakey (and his lovely family), and Mr Wol, along with Peter at last (who looks a lot younger than I’d imagined based on Ron`s description), and I also met up with Dickey, Steve and me ole mate Ed. After a quick hello guys, I continued my walk around the rest of the lake, to meet some really weird anglers on the other side of the lake who apparently had also never seen a monk before, I guess some people lead sheltered lives.
Arriving back at the main campsite we caught up with everyone again. Peter was having trouble with his watercraft, which resembled the Mersey Ferry, (on a good day), but bigger and I suspect it was also nuclear, it was a huge thing. Everyone was showing off their big flashy rod pods, not that they were catching, but the pods looked good.
Soon we were met by the arrival of Mr Bone Collector more affectionately known as Uncle Dave, while later me ole mate Barney appeared. I’ve known Barney for some years now and every time I see him he seems to look younger, I’m not actually sure why that is? Moving on, at last meeting up with Eddie C or Mr Bluenose to his friends, who sounded more Scouse than Scouse Ed.
Suddenly, this little guy with a dog appeared on the car park and it turned out to be none other than little Matty. Arriving around the same time I think was Mr Windy who seemed very impressed with me habit. I was also fortunate to meet Mr Nellist, a divorce lawyer, definitely a guy you want to have on your side in an emergency. In addition I chatted to the delightful Miss Wombat, a fisher lady, we don’t have too many of those since Wendy, Claudia, Janet (lets see your catapult) and the girls appear to have deserted us on FM. I was looking forward to a bit more eye candy, but all I got was Graham, Ed and Ron. Still, maybe next year.
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| Monk shows Ron what real fishing is like. |
We then settled down near the BBQ and watched as top man Wol and his attractive assistant Mr Cakey made the necessary preparations. Wol must been at it for near 3 hours cooking, unbelievable and he kept smiling all the time, this man deserves a medal, respect mate. And in no time at all we were tucking into one of the best BBQs I’ve had in years, I stuffed meself with all sorts of expertly cooked scran and a large selection of sauces, it was absolutely brilliant.
The wine and everything else was flowing, all sorts of stuff, lager, fine wines, whiskeys, scrumpy, pear cider, you name it we had it, unfortunately I was driving so only managed a few sips of Ron’s. I think Ron tried everything though, and all in the same glass and pretty much at the same time, none of which appeared to have had an effect on him.
Other events that occurred was Jim impaled himself on a large barbed hook, it looked painful and I was going to offer my skills with a scalpel all but for remembering the job I did on Elvis Pete some years ago when he got a Creek Chub Pikey stuck in his neck, (don’t ask), which resulted in me having to run him to intensive care after I’d made a pigs ear of removing it. Elvis Pete (named by Gary Knowles by the way, but that’s another story), was however prone to accidents on another fishing trip he managed to superglue his finger to his eyelid. Sadly we lost our little mate a few years ago.
All too soon it was time to depart and we said out goodbyes, (lots of tears) and Ron and I departed in a North Manchester direction. Arriving back at the ranch late evening, Ron crashed for a second night and made his way back over the mighty Pennines on Sunday morning. And everyone lived happily ever after.
So until next time guys, well be back!
