Never say no to fishing
That magic stream in the forest where fishermen go when invited by, eh...other fishermen.
When you get an invite to fish for free, as long as you like, in a stream packed with brown trout and in the company of a very good friend you just don't say no!
So when my very good friend of 20 years, Rasmus pulled me aside at his very own wedding and invited me to that special spot of his, I instantly cleared my calendar and said yes. Well, usually I would clear these things with the wife, but this time I answered in the affirmative before I could think. Whatever the consequences might be!
We met after work on a friday at Rasmus' place and drove in his 4wd to the spot. Rasmus had been kind enough to shop for the trip, so we quickly got there, opened a beer and set up camp.
Our spot. The stream is in the forest just behind us.
Itchy to get to the stream, we rigged our gear and made our (very short) way to the swim just behind camp. Beers in hand, we got straight into some quiet time and watching several splashes right in front of us. Both of us fished with flies on a short-ish leader under a standard float.
As the dark crept in, the bats in the old beech and mixed forest kept flying into our lines and making it feel like there were fish nibbling on the flies. I nearly got hit by several bats, but felt confident that the bats had more of a sense what was going on than I.
And then it happened! Rasmus got one just after dark and about 4 beers in. Magic. Strange panic in the dark and I got the headtorch out. We were both slightly drunk at the time, and the fish was strangely quiet which made the whole thing somewhat more surreal. A lovely brown trout of about 45cm! Not bad at all.
2, maybe 3 more hours passed with lots of splashes and friendly bats but no bites, so we got back to camp and cooked up some lovely tinned stuff and powder mash. Chat, beers and a fire. It was like proper outdoors time.
Got up some time after the crack of dawn with a dead arm, but soon after some fresh coffee and food, we got to the swim again. I felt determined to catch something and sat in my chosen spot.
Now, I'm sure fish aren't the most intelligent beings on the planet, but I am absolutely certain that they were mocking me deliberately on this very fine saturday morning in the forest.
Our chosen swim. Photo taken from about the spot where Rasmus got his fish.
Sitting about 15 metres further upstream from Rasmus, I saw several trout moving to the pool where I had strategically placed my fly and either ignoring it entirely or splashing demonstratively as the swam past, casting only a fleeting glance at my very fine hometied fly. Bastards.
Rasmus just sat there in silence and looked up like something might happen, then brushed it off when it didn't. The man had his fish. He never said a word. He did assume a contemplative pose at one point, but it lead to nowhere.
"...I wonder what the fish are up to"
Lack of sleep, no fish and the iktyological mockery got the better of me and I snapped an old animal skull I found. Very cool and the opportunity to try and get some photos of stuff.
Squirrel? Perhaps. Cool? Decidedly so.
But it was like a dream, there in the forest. Our private spot in the late summer, where woodpeckers, squirrels, buzzards, bats and owls got a bit closer than usual and provided us both with a sense of having been accepted into their world.
Safely back at Rasmus' house, I instructed him in the cleaning process. Just before we got down to it, we realised there was no photo.
Picture or it didn't happen. So, how do I gut this thing?
Thanks for the trip, Rasmus. Yes. I can go next time:)
Hours of fun
Who said you have to catch something to have fun while fishing? Come on, please stand up!
Just been on a weekend with the collective and friday we managed to get to the summerhouse early enough to get a couple of hours of fishing done. Very quiet weather and no fish. Friday night, the Birne Train started rolling slowly.
Saturday was a bit hard to start. Got up before first light and at the coast and casting out about 15 minutes before sunrise. A light drizzle and dead calm. I got 2 small cod within about 20 minutes and one of the others got one as well. An hour later, someone got a sea trout under the minimum. Quiet again for several hours.
We moved along to another spot where we had some class spots. I got on the flyfishing and worked a bit on my casting and shooting line. Martin got a trout under minimum (his first) but nothing for the rest of us. I found two petrified sea urchins - as seems to be standard for the trips so far. Last trip I found 4.
Lunch was consumed and we moved to a 3rd spot, but same story again. At about 16.00, 3 of us made our way back to the summerhouse and started up the Birne Train and Beers were opened. Prepared the most amazing lamb while under the heavy influence and the others came back about 7 after hitting a 4th spot, but to no avail.
Then followed the great evening with loads of beers, birne and talking shit.
Who can resist a weekend outdoors, great company, great food and great scenery? The fishing is secondary and anyone who says differently is a wanker.
Breaking the landscape
Bunkers sit in the dunes like tetris shapes fallen from the sky
I recently found myself amongst one of the largest bunker complexes in Denmark.
Walking through the landscape, I was struck by the way the massive concrete structures break the landscape. The geometrical shapes in the raw dunes of sand invite exploration not just in the practical sense of the word - crawling through the door and into the dark and unknown, but also exploring with the eyes and senses. The bulbous machine gun positions in the corners seem as misplaced on the rest of the structure, as the whole structure in the landscape.
Round corner structure of Bunker
The small openings into these large concrete structures invite exploration, and I had to restrain myself not to get on my hands and knees and start making my way toward the centre. I didn't have a torch with me, but I couldn't help wonder: "What shapes and textures are hiding in the depths of the bunkers and what images do they have to offer?".
Small entrances invite exploration
Naturally, there's no light in the bunkers and thus rendering photography nearly impossible without some nice lights. I did find this machine gun tower, sitting on its own in the sand and waiting for thousands of years of weather to wear it down and take it away.
A machine gun tower sits freely in the sand
With all the surrounding sand gone, the true shape of the structure is revealed and the feeling of exploration and juxtaposition is removed or stripped down to a block of concrete looking out of place. It does however lend an opportunity to look out from the inside and get a taste of the textures and the environment of the structures.
Inside the machine gun mount
I have previously been on specific photography outings to bunker areas in the north of Jutland, where there's a bunker museum inside a "restored" bunker and a number of very large structures, partly uncovered.
A shot from inside a bunker taken on a previous trip
I must go again soon.
What’s your type?
Amy's doing some nice work with her types at the moment, and I spotted her box on the sunlit table in her studio.
It looked inviting and I grabbed a shot of it before it was too late.
A visit in retrospect
Amy's friend Hannah, came to visit recently and it was nice to have her pleasant company for a few days. We had gorgeous weather while she was here and her and Amy had a great time talking about eh...girly things. And of course art.
Hannah wrote about it on her blog.
52 Weeks
Dub did a funny shot for his 52 weeks project:
I'm not sure where he gets it from, but he's churning out some cool stuff at the moment.
Behold the chain
It's fun keeping up with what Rhys and John from GLC are up to these days. Haven't seen them since Dave and I met with them after their gig in Brixton Academy about 2 years ago.
Apparently, Dave hooked up with them recently after they had a thing near his parents.
They seem well, the lads.
Excessive boredom ensues.
I'm possibly having one of the most boring days at my present job so far.
My day started at 8.03 with putting the coffee on (first in) and then concluding that the regular morning tasks were few, and so the routine was over by 8.35. This was followed by a trip to the aforementioned coffee only to discover that it was done brewing and about 8 people had been for their coffee and thus the pot was at near empty. At this point, I would like to point out that this is a recurring issue. Someone with a distinct lack of consideration (developer, sysadmin or similar) takes the 2nd to last cup of coffee on the pot but fails to start a new brew, which take all of 43 seconds. How hard can it be? I digress...
After starting a new brew, I checked my mail and to my dismay discovered that the fishing tackle I ordered online yesterday was being delivered at home instead of at work. This meant no post of actual interest. At exactly 9.03 I looked at the time and started the countdown to freedom. Sigh.
Checked mails and the support system and spent about 15 minutes clearing the backlog of issues from last night. Decided that I was due for a coffee, I made the trip to the pot and found it empty. My disappointment was accompanied by a strange sense of deja-vú as I started another brew. Back to the computer for a browse through the usual newssites, blogs and forums. Finding nothing of interest, I hastily made the trip to the coffee and finally managed to secure a cup only to discover that it was a little bit too strong and bitter - again. Another sigh.
More routine work and waiting for lunch seemed like 6 hours but wasn't and that annoyed me slightly as I wanted the day to be at least slightly closer to over.
Lunch was nice hukaido soup with bits of chicken, bacon and pumpkin seeds. A glowing beacon of pleasure in an otherwise very dull day.
This was exactly 48 minutes ago, and already I have gone through what seems to be an identical routine to this morning, only with less hours to go. Sigh again.
I'm getting sick of clicking buttons.
And the winner is…..
...not me. Well, some would argue that we are all winners, but that sounds mostly like the words of a looser.
Yesterday, I took part in a fishing competition while away for a long weekend at Fanø. The lake there is from last year and really sterile. It's basically still a hole in a field, but the fish don't seem to mind too much. I arrived a bit late and there were so many people that I found it difficult to get a spot without crossing lines all the time.
Anyway, I got started and changed between spin and fly every 20 minutes or so. Some time past 9, I got one on my Mepps2 copper/red spots. The fish was in very good condition and put up a fair fight before I landed it. I felt certain that 1.22kg wasn't enough to place, but how wrong I was.
The winner logged 4.7kg and second place logged 3.5kg. I got 6th place, and was duly rewarded with a fine UL Shimano Rod with Abu Garcia reel. Yipee.
This has prompted me to finally invest in some fireline and the online shop was short on the Smoke coloured variety, so it's gonna be a 270m spool in green 0.17mm. This enables me to have enough for both my standard spinning reel and my new UL kit.
Had a bite on it
Went to the lake on sunday afternoon and after a while with the classic mepps 2 in copper with red dots, I changed to use a bombarda with my very own orange magnus.
It was windy as hell, which explains why I used the bombarda. Normally, I would prefer the fly-rod any day, but in a gale I wasn't left much choice. After 2 casts I got some nice rythmic pulling on the fly, but I didn't manage to hook the fish effectively enough to land it. At least I now know that my hometied flies are working somewhat.
I later changed back to the mepps spinner and caught a small 42cm rainbow, which has been laid to rest in my freezer.
On a side note, I can't wait to go to North Funen with the guys.