Pure wildlife
A summer evening in the 60s, on the banks of the Ance du Nord, a river emblematic of the Haut-Forez region. My parents and I were visiting cousins from Saint-Etienne, a close relative of my father. They had set up a makeshift camp on a piece of land by the river, at a place called "Le Vert". With the prior agreement of the owner, a farmer in the neighboring hamlet. Needless to say!
This team of guys impressed me: with their adventurous looks, they didn't seem to be afraid of anything. They rode their motorcycles at high speed along steep paths, rode horses without saddles with their gypsy friends and dived from the top of the great rocks lining the river. To me, as a young boy in search of my bearings, they symbolized pure wilderness, a behavior combined with a profound respect for nature.
During the visit, I had strayed a little from the family circle to take a closer look at the river. At the end of the meadow, I discovered an imposing chasm where the common shadows had gathered to gobble up the multitude of mayflies that had just hatched.
Poachers caught in their own trap
A few days later, word reached the nearby village that a serious accident had occurred on the banks of the Ance. We immediately returned to Le Vert. When we arrived, the family were in the process of dismantling their camp. Tents folded, departure was imminent. Over a hastily served cup of coffee, they told us in hushed tones about the dreadful night that had followed our meeting. They were sleeping peacefully in their tents when they were awakened by cries for help. Four poachers had set nets in the chasm I'd spotted, and had caught themselves in their own trap. Courageously, the three cousins dived into the icy water and managed to extricate two of them from this dangerous situation. But for the other two, there was nothing they could do. The fire department arrived later that night to find them dead.
This tragic story had frightened me: that day, I learned that rivers can sometimes be cruel, even merciless. As a child, I developed a nagging fear of them, as well as a fatal attraction to black chasms.
Today, to find common grayling in the Ance du Nord, a direct tributary of the Loire at Bas-en-Basset, you have to go well upstream from Le Vert, past the Pont du Diable and the ruins of the Château de Chalencon.
