For the past 16 months I've been slowly mounting a campaign to find and catch the barbel of the lost river. This river was heavily polluted throughout my childhood, has suffered a number of ongoing pollutions but is slowly returning to life.
Flowing for much of its lower course through the urban fringes it varies between urban scruffiness and rural idyll, sometimes changing character from one bend to the next.
I finally caught my first barbel from the lost river last month. I recorded my feelings on my Weblog where I am now maintaining a record of my progress on the lost river.
Its kind of a diary of my fishing trips and the thoughts that run through your head when you're alone in the dark by an unyielding river.
You can read my LostRiver Weblog at http://lostriver.blogspot.com/. Like most Blogs it works in reverse with the most recent post at the top so if you you want to read from the start you'll need to scroll down to the bottom.If you go to the January archive in the right hand menu first you can read the Weblog from the beginning.
It's not all about barbel fishing but I'd welcome your comments, good or bad. If you do guess the river feel free to join me but please keep it to yourself. We all need a little mystery in our lives!

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Excellent reading.
One bit that grabbed my attention was :

"It's not easy on the bank in the dark on your own. Your mind is taken in all sorts of directions, not all of them healthy, many mundane, some a little weird.
One persistent direction of mine stems from the theory of relativity and endless repetition and the associated condition of dissolving words. To the uninitiated this particular theory of relativity is simply the process where an otherwise unoccupied mind jumps from one vaguley related topic to another, relationships so vague that within two jumps you can often be in entirely different field of thought. The associated, and sometimes consequent, process of endless repetition is that thought that just wont jump anywhere and keeps re-circulating, maddening the end-user to a degree where concentration is seriously compromised. Hours alone on the riverbank leave subjects particularly vulnerable to these conditions "

I always thought it was just me that was a bit loopy that way.

My worst day of "endless repetition" when fishing happened one day down on the Brue, between Street and Glastonbury. I'd driven over the Pomparles Bridge, as I had done a fair few times, when they happened to mention it on the car radio. I learnt it was actually pronounced "pomperilis" and the radio bloke explained it came from the French or Latin for "Perilous Bridge".
Armed with this new and fascinating 'knowledge' I sat fishing for hours with the word "pomperilis" running round my addled brain. Sang a few songs to myself to try and budge the stupid word but nope, it was well and truly stuck there.

Yours in angling insanity

Glenn

how was it lost there quite big and certainly big enough to notice if it drops out of your pocket :confused:
a tad florrid for me too many clever words too little actual content

[ 22. February 2005, 07:27 PM: Message edited by: chesters1 ]

BR do you by any chance partake in illegal substances . the only mind game I play when night fishing is did the bugger go under or did I nod off again

Bigrivers - welcome to AN.

I sorta worry about folks whose minds do not wander when they are on the bank at night without a great deal to keep occupied between runs.

nothing to occupy us newt ,we have on-digital (that way the dish is freed up as a wok) radio ,and books with less words and far more pictures .err i read them for the car bits honest

Bigrivers and Glenn, glad to read your words...I have been like that for years.... and don't even mention counting

Den, up to my ears in snow!

Top read Bigrivers there is a book in the making there, keep it going.