Thursday afternoon I drove the usual 105 miles to the lake, found I had the place to myself as usual,had a look round and saw some fish moving around my favourite swim, as usual so I set up in the there and placed my baits in the usual spots, as usual, even casting one over to the far margin and it landed 2' short of the reed line, as usual ( cos i clip up ).
I put my marker out on the plateau to my right, and place a bait there with some freebies/hemp, a little unusal, this as i have been putting just hemp there for a few weeks and not fished it yet.
I settled down for the night and set my alarm for 6am , as usual.
Fri. morning 5 am I wake up to a screaming run off the plateau, 17lb mirror.
another fish a cupple of hours later and things were looking good.
Around mid morning , the single bait over on the far margin hadn't even had a bleep, so i thought maybe this new bait would be just the ticket, so i wound in, replaced my rig with a marker float and cast it onto the far bank at my chosen spot( a coot roost), the reason for this was because i wanted to fish a bottom bait, instead of a pop up, but the baits come off on the cast so i decided to walk round the lake and attach a baited rig on and drop it in with some freebies.
easy !....no, this is actually where it all goes horribly, and I mean horribly, wrong.
to get to the coot roost, you have to climb over 2 fences topped with barbed wire. I got over the 1st one ok, and walked around the cattle drink to the spot behind the coot roost and climbed over the 2nd fence, but somehow cought one trouser leg on the wire and fell over, landing on my left foot only, there was a LOUD snap or pop noise and the most excrusiting pain ever shot through my ankle.
My foot was sticking inwards awkwardly and I immediately thought i had broken something.I remember shouting out loud "oh you must be fcuking joking" and then putting my weight down on my foot to try and stand on it....the foot snapped back into place with a slightly quieter "POP" and I screamed again, not words, just a scream or a yelp.
I suddenly realised that i was stranded the wrong side of 2 fences, a cattle drink, and 150 yard walk back to my bivvy
(and my phone).
I don't remeber getting back over the 1st fence, but i do remeber hobbling round in circles on the other side of it shouting "jesus christ, oh fcuking jesus christ!"
I also remember being overcome by a feeling of fear and dread due to my predicament, and telling myself that somehow i had to get back to the bivvy.
the next thing i can remeber was being sat in my swim with my foot in the cold water and i was ripping up a towel to make a bandage,soaked in the cold lake water and strapped my foot and ankle in.
i put my sock and shoe back on and headed for my bedchair. I was very aware that by this time,and i don't know how long it took me to get back round the lake, I was cold,exhausted, and worst of all going into shock, i guess the pain and the effort of getting back had done me in.I knew my blood sugar was dropping rapidly so i made a brew, piled the sugar in, rammed 3 chocolate rolls down my neck and then collapsed into my bedchair.
Mid afternoon Friday. I guess i had passed out, i couldn't have slept through that pain. I knew i was still there on my own, but there was an off chance that Chris, one of the other memebers, was coming down for Fri night-Sat pm.
so i gave him a ring, sure enough he was getting ready to come down, so i told him i'd twisted my ankle and asked him to bring some painkillers.
he rolled up at tea time, with the pills
and some beer
.
we talked about my predicament. discounted going to the local casualty dept, as i would end up stuck 100 miles from home with a car full of tackle
I tried getting aroung on my strapped up foot, and could just hobble with the aid of a storm pole.
I opted for beer and painkillers, and a rethink in the morning.
Sat morning, i was up at dawn with the pain,my ankle was throbbing madly and my foot was seering with pain.
Chris came over to check me out, even brought me a brew
, and I said that if i can get back to my car, with my gear, which he was only too happy to help me with,I reckond I should be able to drive the 105 miles home as its mostly motorway, so my injured left foot would get at least a 1hr rest on the way.
Sat mid morning, while packing up ,the syndicate owner rolls up and helps Chris with my gear, cheers Rick.
A good hour later and after a "hilarious" but scary journey to my car in a wheelbarrow, I was ready to get off home. I tried my foot out on the clutch peddle, and althoughj it hurt like f**k, i reckoned it was do-able.
2hrs later i was home, washed and changed, while my missus called me every stupid name under the sun,retrieved my Dad's old cruthes out of the garage and called a cab up to the local casualty dept. another 2hr wait, several x-rays and a MASSIVE bollocking off the (Lady)Doctor for leaving this injury 24hrs AND driving 100 miles, revealed I had dislocated my ankle and broken a bone in the top of my foot.
She wrapped it up again, now that it had ballooned since she took off the makeshift bandage that i had made, gave me 2 aspirin and sent me home.
I once got a hook in my thumb and had to go to casualty, but this experience is definately my worst ever.
If i have learnt one thing,it's that i am getting too old for jumping over fences, my Son has just told me so, and i reckon it's time to buy a bait boat for those "hard to get to spots" and take life a little slower.
in my next blog i will tell you of a mess i got into e few weeks ago, another homemade fiasco.
thanks for reading this, i hope you have a good luagh over it.
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