That old saying really does ring true in this weeks update. The few days of warm sun we had a week or so ago are now feeling like a distant memory. Especially when sat in the teeth of the northerly wind. Hail showers did little to improve the already falling water temperatures, but still, there is always the chance of a fish. Anglers are certainly an optimistic bunch.
Saturday saw me heading to a picturesque club water with the intention of meeting up with a friend. Of course, some fishing would be done and I was already set up and sheltered from the rain when Cliff arrived. We talked the hind legs of the proverbial donkey, both of us keeping an eye on the float fished sweetcorn I had presented two or three rod lengths out. After an hour or so, Cliff thought it best to head to a swim of his own to see if he could extract a fish or two. I wished him good luck and with that I was left with my thoughts. I didn’t feel very confident to be honest. The area I had chosen to fish was not very deep, and although this could have worked in my favour, it meant I had a good idea there were no fish present. At least for now. No water movement, tail patterns or patches of bubbles. Plenty of small fish evading the jaws of hungry jack pike though, leaping clear of the water as they did so.
The day went by with a procession of cold showers and cups of tea. Nothing much to get the heart beating faster. And I would have fished until darkness stopped me but for an unfortunate gust of wind catching my umbrella at just the right (or wrong) angle. Now resembling a huge, green flower and with two very bent and broken support ribs, I packed away as another heavy hail shower fell around 6pm. It wasn’t the most successful of sessions. For me anyway. Cliff manage to winkle out a chunky three pound tench a few minutes after I had left. At least one of us had managed to catch on a pretty horrible day weather-wise.
I was back out the next day, in the afternoon this time, and on a different venue. Carp were my target. I couldn’t decide which of the lakes to try and initially, headed for one of the smaller ones. The two swans above didn’t seem to mind my intrusion, as shortly after casting out, they did what female and male swans do best. The dance(?) they do afterwards is actually pretty amazing, and without sounding like a swan pervert, I was glad I witnessed it. Half an hour into the fishing, the gremlins arrived. I just didn’t feel like I was on the right water. The cold wind was howling in. It was time to tackle down and find a more sheltered spot. Another twenty minutes went by and I was settling into my second swim of the day. A cup of coffee was consumed whilst I pondered where the carp may be lying. With the rods and a light scattering of freebies put out, it was a case of waiting, and watching.
I was fishing for a take. On one rod I had a bright pop-up and small PVA bag combo, whilst on the other, I went with a 10mm white bottom bait. Just I was thinking about pouring another coffee, the pop-up rod roared off as a carp bolted for safety. After the initial take, the fight was relatively tame by carp standards. Once the fish was on the mat I realised why. It was like a block of ice! Admittedly a very pretty block of ice. No need to weigh the fish, just a quick photo in the early evening light, then carefully released in the margins.
I re-cast the rod to the same area and once more sat back and waited. I had time to pour a coffee this time, several in fact, whilst I waited for the sun to sink below the horizon and the darkness to consume the landscape. It had definitely been an enjoyable few hours. Full of lovely sights and sounds. I packed away slowly once the sky had turned deep blue. On the way back to the car, an owl swooped silently past me. The perfect end to the session.
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Until Next time tight lines