It’s all gone a bit Carpy.

Last night I headed back out on the river for a spot of fishing unsurprisingly.  Well I say spot but that’s five nights on the trot now but i’m really up for it at the minute as winter will be here before you know it and then i’ll be restricted to trips every other weekend.  So I figured i’ve got to make the most of it while I can.  I got to the river a bit earlier than normal.  I got my bits and bobs done at home so figured why the hell not.

On arrival I had a walk along the stretch.  The river was still up a touch and had a nice tinge of colour to it.  There were a few spots that took my fancy but I eventually chose a spot that involved a bit of a walk (no surprise there).  For some reason I thought it would be a good idea to wear my winter bib & brace and my arctic rated neoprene wellies and walk for twenty minutes in the mid-afternoon sun to my chosen spot.  By the time I got there I was soaked with sweat.  I do sometimes have to question my logic in these situations.

I wasn’t expecting a bite anytime soon in the bright sun but it was nice to be beside the river on such a glorious day.  I put two rods across the river to a snag and a third rod setup for Chub fishing just short of mid river on the inside of the crease and settled back into my chair.

The first couple of hours were uneventful before I had a dropback bite on the right hand rod of the two that were up against the snag.  I hit into the fish and I knew I Continue reading

Return to Paradise

The last couple of evenings have seen me return to my own little piece of heaven.  A place that I haven’t fished for quite a long time now.  I was in need of a change, away from the hustle and bustle of everything and everyone after spending two evenings on a rising river Trent.  The river in question is just on the cusp of being too far for an evenings fishing if i’m honest and it’s fair to say it’s not an easy water either.  There’s not much of anything in there in my opinion but what it lacks in number of fish it more than makes up for in their size and it’s a beautiful place to fish.  So, on Thursday evening I decided to return to try and rekindle my love affair with the river.

I had a spot in mind as I had unfinished business there after losing a big fish on my last trip three years ago.  When I say big, I mean mahoosive which is why I haven’t been back for so long.  I couldn’t face going back as it had my stomach in knots as deep down I knew I would probably never hook a fish like that again.  Every now and then a river will throw up a freak of nature and I truly believe that lost fish was one of them.

Not knowing what to expect I made the long walk across the meadows wondering whether I was wasting my time or was it even going to be fishable.  I had a Continue reading

Fish or recce? Fish of course.

Int it funny how things turn out?  Last night the plan was to go and walk a couple of stretches of a river that I was thinking about joining.  The trouble is, it’s very difficult to do that particularly when all your fishing gear is still in the car from your last trip.  Time is precious so if i’ve got a spare minute then i’d rather be fishing than walking and if i’d got my act together, then I really should have walked the stretches in the close season.

So, I reached a compromise.  I’d drive past one of my club waters and if there were no cars in the car park then I would fish and if there were cars then I would do the recce thing.  Guess what, there were no cars.  With that I hurriedly got my gear on my back and did my best Usain Bolt impression to get my chosen peg.

The water was pulling through a bit with all the rain we’d had over the last day and I really expected it to be higher than it was.  It was on the rise though and I suspected as the evening wore on i’d be cursing the weed coming down and catching Continue reading

Blanks are good for the soul, apparently.

After a successful session the previous night I probably should have stuck to the same area on my trip to the Trent last night but being a smart ass I thought i’d give another stretch a go as I was feeling super confident.  I got to the river just before 2pm and had planned on staying until the early hours of Sunday morning.

The river looked fantastic, or should I say the bits I could see of it as the balsam was impossible to penetrate on most of the stretch so I was restricted to one small area, although in fairness I did have a good view downstream where I could see a lot of the river.

After 4 hours fishing I hadn’t had a bite so I knew I was probably in for a grueller.  I had seen some good fish boshing about further downstream though so I was hoping they might make their way upstream and I was still feeling confident.

As the evening wore on the river started to rise quite rapidly and no matter what I did I couldn’t stop the weed catching on the line.  The leads did hold bottom for quite a while but eventually they got pulled out of position.  The fish further downstream continued to taunt me and with no way to get to them I stuck it out in the hope that there were fish in my swim.

The heavens opened at dusk and the rain was relentless.  The slugs were over everything and although I stuck it out until 10:30pm I felt like i’d been defeated.  It was hard to fish effectively because of the weed and getting drenched two nights on the trot was enough for me so I packed up and ran for the hills a defeated man.  I’ll be back though as it’s too nice a stretch not to return.

Please Sir, can I have some more?

It’s been a while.

My previous post saw me going Barbel fishing for the first time in a few years to one of my local rivers which was a joy because nobody fishes it and the fish are big.  The fact that the fish are big makes them very hard to catch though because there are so few of them.  I do like a challenge when it comes to fishing but I’m in that frame of mind at the minute where I just want to get my string pulled.

I’ve resisted fishing the Trent for Barbel for a while now because, if you look at social media, people are saying they’ve had god knows how many Barbel on their last trip with a gazillion doubles amongst them blah blah blah……….  Well i’m sorry, but you’d have to be a pretty awful angler not to catch on some stretches of the river.  In fact i’ll rephrase that, you’d have to be a complete numpty not to catch.  So, all these reports of double figure Barbel caught from the circus of Collingham or Gunthorpe weir really do not impress me and do I really want to sit amongst a bunch of people getting pissed and smoking weed all day?  No I don’t.

Anyway, back to the job in hand, despite what i’ve put above Continue reading