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Gone Fishingthis story is part of the FanClub (mm:first time, 6830 words) [1/2] show all parts

Author: Bulldog Breed
Added: Nov 18 2001Views / Reads: 4010 / 3440 [86%]Part vote: 9.33 (6 votes)
Here I was sitting in the passenger seat of an old Land Rover; which was towing an even older caravan; speeding (barely doing fifty) up the A1 toward Scotch Corner with a middle aged man who I hardly know and who is old enough to be my father. In fact he
 


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Gone Fishing

By Bulldog Breed.

Dedicated to my literary muse – Ken; who’s constructive criticism I value.

Here I was sitting in the passenger seat of an old Land Rover; which was towing an even older caravan; speeding (barely doing fifty) up the A1 toward Scotch Corner with a middle aged man who I hardly know and who is old enough to be my father. In fact he is my father’s best friend. How did I get here you may ask? Well, mum thought that because dad and I hadn’t been getting on to well since I left school and started college; it would be a good idea to go on a fishing trip together and ‘bond’ in the wilds of Scotland.

This may have been a good idea to start with, but my dad petrified at the thought of spending a whole week with is son alone; asked his best mate Fred Redpath along for company. He told me that he had asked Fred because he had a Land Rover and great caravan which he would bring along. He thought we would need the Land Rover to get to the off-road site where he wanted to park. He rambled on about this little glen they had found when passing through Glen Coe. How it had a pool with a waterfall; and was surrounded by tall trees on three sides and a rock face on the other. It was also only five minutes walk to a river that ...

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