Part one had revved by as we turned into the driveway, Murray now a fully fledged member of the smallie clan. No time for reflection however, as part two was only a day away , so with tackle re thought out, the extra seat re- fitted in the people mover, it was seven up on the N3 with noses pointing towards Mooi River KZN, my old stomping ground.
This one was a bit of a redneck gathering consisting of mom, dad, brother, nephew and daughters two, we would meet my sister , brother in law and sons there. All was going smoothly until nephew decided to let rip from Harrismith to Estcourt, at 15kg’s we weren’t sure where it was all coming from. The old man’s response to his innocent protest that it was his tummy talking, was that his tummy must say excuse me first!
We arrived at a rather gloomy looking Zulu falls which in spite of the weather was its usual breath taking brilliance, falling some 75 metres off the escarpment. No forecaster required to assess what type of weather gear, so sadly no scalies(the Natal yellowfish) would be pursued in the plunge pool this year.
The farm dams were all chocolate brown so nothing doing despite a decent morning’s effort, resulting in exactly one explosive hit on a Zara and then zilch!
Off to Lyon’s river to spend the last two nights at my sister’s country restaurant where we were greeted with sun at last. The great thing about good food and drink in the countryside is that just like cattle to a fresh hay bale, the entire herd come together. It didn’t take long, probably 3 beers, to be introduced to the local farm stock that lived up to their generous reputations by inviting us to fish their farm dams. My brother, enjoying a welcome break from young fart bag and my sister’s sons, collectively referred to as ‘the special bus’ brothers, joined me for a spectacular evening in Lidgeton.
The dam is an absolute pearler, crystal clear with plenty of structure. The challenge lay in getting to the dam after all the torrential rain and needless to say I was guilty of leaving more than a footprint, in fact a flip flop in the quagmire leading to the drink. The nephews, also Jozi boys, impressed me by showing some country cudos by streaking ahead of the uncles and a serious fish- off ensued. The fish were strong and full of jumping but took some effort to locate and latch onto. We were fishing from tubes to the backdrop of green pasture lands, stabled horses and a spectacular crimson sunset. It was fish frenzy at last and the highlight of the trip so far!
We ended our Natal sojourn in the beautiful Dargle valley with some lunch time Weber rumps. A dramatic Inhluzane thunder storm then chased me off the trout dam after a few whips of the long rod almost as if I was conducting the gods to a Christmas crescendo.
Bass Digest/February, 2014