Soël “Wild Dream” Briche: 3,2,1 Hic! Happy New !!!!

Soël "Wild Dream" Briche: 3,2,1 Hic! Bonne année !!!! | Hammer Tackle

On October 23, 2022, little Dylan decides to create a WhatsApp group to offer a small party with friends for the New Year. Even if the group consists of only five poor people, the suggestions are numerous and the ideas spread quickly in all directions. Rbnb rental in a big city, session in Mecca, squatting in a gite in Cantal, everything goes, but after many useless messages we decide to find a city more or less equidistant from everyone to rent there. a small barak, spend a few days there and maybe offer a line or two depending on how much energy and time everyone has.

Friday, December 30th: Arriving first on the scene, I decide to quickly explore the river that runs through this city, armed with a fishing rod and a pair of bullets to probe the bottom.

The water level and the current are high, and the temperatures are also high, even abnormal, because we have been flirting with 20 degrees for a week. Thunderstorms are common, the southerly wind has been blowing at more than 60 km/h for 10 days, in short, it's the apocalypse for the end of December. These climatic conditions may be dramatic for the planet, but they are still excellent for carp fishing, so much so that as I pound the bottom with my sinker, I slowly convince myself that it's been a good year um to celebrate the New Year in earnest Unlike two years ago when the high pressure system and winter cold forced us to wear pearls in St. Cass, we are right on the water...

Whatever my thoughts are, it's too late to turn back. The area I'm combing is nice, but there are obviously better things to do elsewhere. The problem is that these other areas are much less accessible. There were many limitations to this fishing with friends, but the biggest problem was undoubtedly time, as we could hardly spend more than three or four hours fishing with the rods. Add to that the need to travel by public transport, the almost certain chance of precipitation and the 99% chance of having a “hangover” on the day of fishing, which, as everyone knows, makes every little thing that much more difficult to achieve.

In short, the river option was good, but a fallback plan was needed because if the level fell the area would be much less interesting.

That was good because a few streets away there is a large park lake with an impressive history. Legend has it that the herd was decimated two years ago, but Dam and I think legends are good for books.

Speaking of Dam's, here he arrives armed with 10kg of creamy small diameter balls. He has just returned from the airport, where he picked up Nico, who apparently had a small head start on the aperitif. Neither one nor two, we throw half of the bait into the river and the other into the park lake, noses in the wind, not far from the refreshment bar, to the rhythm of Nico's dismissals, babbling like an old woman: “It's d. "Shit what you're doing, your apartment is rotten" blah blah blah... Call from Dylan: "We're on our way, we'll arrive in 2 hours" followed by a message from Romain saying: "J" I'll be there in 20 minutes, give me the address" and then everything goes faster, with barely enough time left to do the shopping for breakfast the next day, the dogs are let out to go bowling... aperitif, plum on the bus, restaurant, Pub crawl, karaoke in the Uber on the way back and miserable drifts on Tinder, in short an evening between furry people in the rhythm of camaraderie and lightness... The evening passes like a flash and ends in a sound recording competition from 7 a.m. to 12 p.m. At 2 p.m. one of us says provocatively: “Are we going fishing?”… The answers are in the glassy looks and sound like an echo amid dark circles, like crumpled sheets after a crazy night of “Paupiette du 84”.

What is certain is that we will not harm the carp today.

We must wait until the next day, January 1, 2023, for a handful of us to drag our carcasses to the water's edge.

To be honest, we went there more out of conscience than motivation. The departure time also bears witness to this... 3 p.m.

Nico and Romain are no longer with us the next day for professional reasons, real soldier types! That leaves Mamat, Dylan, Dam's and myself. A rod each, a handful of balls and a few leaders just in case.

Fishing starts around 4pm and if I remember correctly, around 4:30pm three of the four rods were bent more or less at the same time. There weren't enough landing nets and I personally trained a fifty-year-old in 30 seconds to fight from the public bench against an old mirror that welcomed her delicate buttocks.

  • “Yo guys, you haven’t heard me scream in 5 minutes, I’m stuck with a good fish, give me a landing net.”
  • "Sorry big guy, but the landing nets are full, just worry about the stretcher!)

This funny situation will delight viewers and remind us that if we fish like rats hidden in the depths of the bayous 90% of the time, the main reason we don't like people is because we don't like people!

Let's be honest: this half hour of "everything" was greeted with a smile as it was exceptional compared to our habits.

So much so that we quickly decided to book an extra night to return the next day for a morning photo shoot at the location.

Little reminder of a few kilos of marbles before returning to the lodge and around 5.30pm we are at the bus stop, smelly but hardworking, like children coming home from school after putting leaves behind the bin room. The general energy of the group suggested a quiet evening. Small showers, little food and an assembly workshop brighten up the few hours before the well-deserved and expected rest.

The next day the morning rush was less explosive but still productive with a few new fish. Enough to allow a good transition to an imminent return to “normal” life.

One last pizza on the go with friend Francky and it's time to give in to the hugs that mark the end of this festive weekend. One of those weekends when you age faster than usual, one of those weekends when neglect takes over reason, one of those weekends when life seems disturbingly simple, one of those weekends when you put a smile on your face and get your feet wet Start a new year!


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