Mountain Rivers

I grew up alongside a River at the bottom of the Dublin mountains and I now live alongside a River
in the Wicklow mountains, only about a mile from its source which is a tributary the start of the Liffey.
It’s nature at it’s best and as an all-round angler can appreciate that this is where it all begins.
To watch crystal clear water bubbling out of a muddy bog and it to end up out at sea is quite
amazing. There is nothing more enjoyable than to follow a mountain river along its course, which
can be guaranteed to end with wet feet, scratches from the gorse which in early summer, is a sight
to behold when it engulfs the ditches with its yellow display.
To see the little pools carved out over the years, a little family of primrose growing with its lovely
yellow flowers beaming in one of the most hardest conditions, the foxglove swaying in the wind
against all odds, to see a wild ash tree growing from a rock in the middle of a river somehow, the
bog cotton showing its lovely Snow White fluffy head.
On these adventures with my kids now, we will see many wild brown trout nipping flies off the
surface or darting about after being spooked by your gloomy shadow, frogs, and their tadpoles,
colourful dragon flies endless amounts of aquatic life, even a few newts, which I had never seen
There is always a Heron somewhere standing in stealth mode waiting on its next meal.
To see this little river, turn in to a dark chocolate coloured raging monster in the floods of winter with
is grumbling noises coming from granite boulders being moved by it’s unstoppable force is a scary
sight. It also has been completely frozen over but after digging a hole through the frozen river gave
us our water source during the beast from the east, and now at this time of the year it’s the kids
favourite time to splash and swim about in the most natural swimming pools there is, although very
small and cold!
I’ve fished in most parts of the country inland and coastal and love fishing the mighty River Shannon
the Erne, Dodder or even the Slaney where my forefathers owned some of the beats , they all
start as a little river in a mountain somewhere.
On a final note, we won’t mention about those lovely little flies that can appear in their thousands
than can make a grown man cry and run anyone off the river looking for cover scratching
themselves. The midges are the river protectors.
As my father wise words to me were “never forget what it’s like to sit by a riverbank on a summer’s
evening “