August was a month of revelation for me, but let's get the simple stuff out of the way first. The weather in August was so-so, with enough rain to give rises of water to get salmon moving though we have not had really big floods. And it has not been hot, sunny August weather here in northwest England; instead lots of cloud and a maximum temperature rarely in excess of 18°C.

So trout and grayling fishing has been on the patchy side because hatches have been prolonged but sparse. For instance, on August 31 the Ribble was an inch above summer level, with a slight peat tinge. By 10.30am pale wateries and medium olives were hatching in tiny numbers, with sedges and autumn duns joining in by 1pm. Then a cool NW-breeze resulted in the temperature falling and the hatches slowed … I had some lovely grayling and a small trout from one beat (on the dry grayling flies Sturdy’s Fancy and Red Tag), the best grayling a cracker at 42cm in length. Then we moved upstream by about five miles where, in the later afternoon, I managed only a couple of brown trout on my CdC Olive.

On the 13th Ken and the two Alans invited me to join them on our beat of the Cumbrian Derwent. Salmon were running and we arrived in high hopes and with a bag of miscellaneous pies procured from the Tebay service station by the M6 (a gourmet’s delight). I set up my double-handed rod with its #10 line, and tied on my Orange Hackle Shrimp (size 10 treble). It took me half an hour to fish carefully down the lovely pool. Then I sat on the bench and watched the water for 20 minutes. Then I changed fly, knotting on my Orange Mallard Shrimp. Again, it took about thirty minutes to fish the pool properly. Another rest and I started again at the pool neck. But I had to stop. The arthritis in my right elbow and finger joints made casting impossible. The rest of the day, I gillied for my pals.

I told people of my problem. It is not only the weight of the long rod and the weight of a #10s line. It is the combined effect when putting in that power stroke, when punching the line out over the water. All year I had fished a 9ft Sage rated #6 and an 8ft Thomas & Thomas rated #4 for trout (including rainbow) and sea trout, fishing with hardly a twinge. But the big rod was out, and even very stiff single-handers rated #7-8 gave me pain after a short while.

Roland Puddifoot was the first to come up trumps. He had a customised 12ft Sage rated #6. Would I like to try it? You bet I would. It arrived by carrier and half an hour later, after taking advice from Sage guru Garry Coxon, I was by the canal where I practice casting and test new rods. Oh! I forgot to say, our club chairman, Brian, who is a great catcher of salmon, suggest that I try casting with my left hand doing the work. Years ago I had tried casting left-handed, but stopped because I am so right-handed. Back to the canal. The rod worked wonderfully with a #7 Intermediate. It is light (as I write, Roland has kindly loaned it for the rest of this season) and I found that I could cast a good 15-20 yards using my left hand above the reel.

I took the rod to the Ribble, where there was about 8in on, and I had my first salmon with it: a pristine 12-pounder that is now in the smoke-house at Glasson Dock. Then I had a phone call from Alan. Would I join him and Ken on the Derwent? After coffee in the fishing hut David Calvert joined me as gillie and we headed to a couple of pools where the water is deep under our bank and a back-cast impossible because of the trees. A salmon moved, I fished down to it, the fish took, and a few minutes later David netted out a lovely 5lb grilse. Later I fished two other pools upstream and had a stale sea trout of about 3lb. These pools were much shallower and streamier, and there was no sign of running fish (the river was back at summer level). So I headed back downstream to the deeper, steadier holding pools. There I had two more salmon, both grilse, and hooked one that threw the hook. The flies: the three salmon came to my simply-tied Orange Hackle Shrimp, size 12, and the sea trout to a size 12 Mallard & Silver on a dropper. And not a twinge of pain from my arthritic joints.

As we age our body begins to fail us and, for many like me, it is the joints that suffer. Readers may recall a couple of years ago I had X-rays of my hand and elbow and the specialist medico related each damaged joint to to fly-fishing cast. However it seems that (most?) manufacturers of rods, line and reels are influenced by the macho-casting market and young casting-tyros who have no difficulty whapping out a full fly line with a ‘snake-roll and punch’. Yet, when age takes its toll, and you get pangs and pains from the skeleto-muscular system, it seems to me that the tackle industry couldn’t give a damn. It seems to me. When was the last time you saw a review of a fly rod by an old decrepit bugger like me?

I hope to try a rod or two that can easily be used by us oldies and write about this problem in FF&FT, and any advice/similar experiences from you readers would be more than welcome.

It’s now September 1. The rivers here are low, and we need rain to get the salmon running again. Or warmth to get the trout going.