I'm Wreaking river havoc!

I had come across a small river on Google Maps, and started to do a bit of research as to what it had produced.

- Steve Collett

I wanted to know whether or not neglect had brought this tiny little river back to life, or had it remained just another river to avoid.

One spot that I had earmarked on this small river called the Wreake was behind the Frisby Lakes complex, run by my old mukka Chris ‘Crazy Legs’ Angel.

By no means a big river, more of an intimate stream, stealth would be the name of the game, with fish-spotting the key. Sitting comfortably and luxuriously on a fancy tackle box with a buttie van coming round, it was not! This river was a wild ’un, and I was here to tame it, hopefully.

A night in with a glass of milk and Google revealed wonderful bends and gullies to explore, some great overhanging trees, small, fast glides and deep pools – everything a small river angler could want, it looked spot-on.

Spontaneous Steve

Having the nickname ‘Spontaneous Steve’, I had come up with this idea at 9am on a Thursday morning. Come 11am that same day I arrived at the river. I couldn’t wait. It was like a well-wrapped present – I wanted to rattle the River Wreake and peek at what was inside.

With only a short 30-minute journey from where I live, I had got the excuse book out already. The weather? It didn’t know whether it was Arthur or Martha, torrential rain and wind for five minutes, then bright sunshine followed by gales the next. It was four-seasons-in-one-day today.

Once the rain had stopped, I got out and had a look at the river. This was where my next excuse comes in – it wasn’t a river, now, more a trickle, and I mean trickle. Everything had overgrown, and swims I’d looked at on Google Maps were not there. Instead, huge reedbeds that seemed to hide the tiny dribble of water.