Sea River Hill: Hello and Welcome from Edinburgh

The Author - Twenty six year old Mark Roxburgh with a bonnie Sea Trout

So last Christmas, brimming full of fond memories I bought myself a sporting journal and began the process of backdating all my recent fishing and shooting trips. Turns out I am a hopeless traditionalist and despite my best intentions the ink in my fountain pen has dried out and the dust has been gathering on my leather bound journal for sometime now. Despite the lack of logging there certainly hasn’t been a lack of activity…. Let the blogging commence!

I began trout fishing at the grand age of six on the estate my Uncle helped run in the Cairngorms. I turned fishing mad shortly after this and when I wasn’t with my Uncle I would probably be begging someone to take me out. If my poor Mother wasn’t driving me to Loch Long to go mackrel fishing she would be helping me write my fly fishing book as part of a primary school project or even driving me to A&E to get some horrible huge treble hook removed from my finger!

School, rugby and tennis got in the way a bit and fishing really became a holiday sport as I got older. I started hill walking, climbing, skiing, kayaking and was always trying to do as many different things as I could. Annual outdoor activity trips to Arran became the highlight of the year and fishing really was left on the subs bench. Thankfully however my faith was restored due to a chance encounter with a gamekeeper from up north. Without going into too many details, he was dating my girlfriend at the time's sister and so we soon began fishing and shooting together… The rest is history (including the sisters!).

First Ever Salmon - River Nairn August 09

Summit of An Stuc, Loch Tay. First big winter day - Jan 2005.

Having upgraded to salmon fishing I know walk, talk and sleep salmon. Mountaineering, skiing and shooting take up the close season and periods of drought and now I hope this Blog will keep both me and you entertained whilst I am not swinging a Cascade through a Salmon pool, dangling off some remote ridge in the highlands or lifting woodcock with the dogs on a walked up shoot.