Covering my options

We've crept into April, the world is currently fighting Covid-19, many people are doing our country proud, the key workers, and of course the NHS that are working all hours trying to save lives! Society has all but shut down, social distancing is in place and we're only allowed out of the house for essential items and an hours exercise. It's tough times for sure, the majority of the country are pulling together as one but there are as usual one or two that think they're invincible!
Please Stay at home and Stay Safe.

                                 Covering My Options.

Now, I love my Chub fishing and would probably say that over the last half a dozen seasons along with Perch they've fast become one of my favourite species, plus I love late Autumn going in to the winter. The banks can be quieter, foliage starts to drop back opening up more water to angle and spots that look dull in summer often become fish havens once a little extra water has dropped in.

Some of you that follow my footsteps on social media may well think that I'm out on the bank at every given moment, I can assure you that I'm not, although I do try and tread the banks twice a week if I can. For the majority of all of my trips they're three maybe four hours long at best.
I constantly try and keep ahead of the game, keeping an eye on the weather, the levels and the conditions in general.
Through the winter months when it's dark early, I'll load my car before going to work, put my shift in and head to my chosen section, sometimes that'll be right as daylight is fading. It's a rush but  rewards can be had. The same goes for my early morning trips, I'll be up at silly o'clock depending on how long my drive is and aim to be walking the field or towpath so that I'm creeping into a peg just before first light but more often than not I'm home before lunch.

Many parts of the Ouse through Buckinghamshire/Bedfordshire and beyond hold spectacular sized Chub, from small chublet right up to a magical six, seven and even odd eights if we're really lucky!!
I personally have a few membership books that offer some great chub fishing, and I do mix it up a little depending on where my hunch is telling me to head.
Minimal kit is taken and that will consist of one bag with a built in bait compartment and clips to take my unhooking mat, one quiver holdall (usually with two rods, bank sticks and my net handle) and my lightweight chair, oh... and my flask!

                                                    Perch/Chub

Usually armed with a rod of around the 1.5t/c with a spliced tip of 2oz maximum, a six pound mainline fished straight through to a size 8 or 6 hook that is anchored to the bottom using a light link ledger incorporating simplistic float stops.
Worm fishing while spraying maggot on the river is more of an early evening thing, but mainly aimed at perch just as the sun is dropping from the sky, although I do catch the occasional chub along the way, but to be honest it's aimed more directly at Perch.

                                                            Chub/Barbel

Pellet, boilie and my spiced up luncheon meat are usually my choice of baits come winter with the latter being my first choice come either darkness or floods.
My pellet or boilie offering will be combined with a pva bag which has a mixture of both baits within and these would be potentially tied up a few weeks in advance, this will indeed slow the melt rate of the bag down once it has hit the river bed and I prefer that rather than a breakdown as it's potentially falling through the water and maybe ending up further away from my baited hook?

When pellet or boilie fishing, my hook of choice is a reliable Korum power hook in either an 8 or maybe a 10 if I think I need to scale down a little, but I personally wouldn't go any smaller if there is the chance of either a Barbel or a Carp as there is in certain stretches.
10lb or 15lb smokescreen is the hook link of my choice, again this may seem a little heavy to some but on many sections, swims can be tight with foliage, needle reeds and of course trees/snags.

Rod choice is usually decided depending on the flow and conditions so again I will pack a either a 3/4lb avon style or a 1.5t/c with a 2oz tip. With the Ouse being the width it is, I find an 11 foot rod in most situations a perfect length for sneaking in and out of what can be tight holes as sometimes I am literally just lowering straight from the tip of my rod and donking down!

If the river has extra water on or the conditions look good for the chance of a Barbel bite then I have no problem whatsoever in packing the more heavy duty type Barbel rod with a test curve of say 1.75. Ok so I may not see the more finer bites that may occur but generally I find in these conditions that a couple of dinks tells me that something is sniffing. More often than not I will receive a full blooded bounce/bite and that is probably down to the one thing that I have changed this past autumn/winter, from a running lead with longer hook links to a lead clip system and shorter hook links of  5 to 6 inches with baits set as tight to the hook as I can get them so it gives a claw type effect no matter the size of the  bait or hook.

Come early season and through the summer I revert back to my free running set up and longer hook links of about 14"- 20" just to get the hook bait away from the lead and where the line enters down through the water, but again this depends on levels and water clarity.
My rod positioning again is dictated by the flow and the conditions, low water levels and my rod would be as low to the water as possible and the angle will be set at 10 o'clock if my bait is set roughly at 9 o'clock. In high water levels then my option is to fish the same angles but with the rod pointed skywards and if allowed then a large bow of line is released from the reel just to ease the pressure on the line.
Lead size in all situations is dictated by the flow and could be anything from 1/2oz up to about 3oz but more often than not a 1oz would be my favoured size for a free running set up while a 2oz would be my choice if a bolt style set up is being used.


                                                   Swim Selections.

As a rule, a typical session for me is about four hours or so, within that I let the tip tell me how long to sit in any particular swim. We all have sections, some short some long, we all have favoured pegs on certain stretches in certain conditions ( a bit like a Carp angler would on certain winds at a certain time of year) and over a period of time and the more knowledge we have gained this can then automatically give you a head start on where you think you should start to angle.

Now, there's no rule with this next bit.... generally there are two types of river angler, your bait and wait type or your roaming angler, I tend to be the latter of the two especially with my short sessions.
This would be my typical session on the Great Ouse (on the larger rivers like the Trent, Severn and Wye I would probably set my stall out as a bait and wait but only to a degree and If I felt the need to move then I would be off , at it and on my way)………..

I've arrived at a section at say 5.30am, it's just started getting light, I know the section, I know how far I need to walk to my furthest first choice peg given the conditions, so with that in mind I generally will pick three or so other swims on route, have a quick look and if they feel/look right I will then trickle just a little bit of feed in and walk on quietly and continue to choice one.
At choice one, my first job is to hand feed just a little bit of bait in, not masses but a light taster, my rods are already made up so just need slotting together and my chosen bait attaching, this will be done out of sight and away from the waters edge and quietly, there's no need in spooking anything that might be home before you've even dropped a bait in!
As stated earlier, most sections of the typical Ouse is only so wide, but positioning of the bait is mainly dictated to by the features and probably more importantly by the flow.


I love nothing more than being able to gently lower a bait in to the water just off of my tip or not much further than that, it's minimal disturbance and with the right size lead choice depending on flow, you can more or less get it fishing with hardly a splash.
Rod positioning to me is quite important, I try to set it away from the waters edge or on an angle that would give me the best vantage point if a bite is received, especially if I'm around heavy snags or foliage that a fish will almost certainly head for (which as we all know is typical, especially of chub) if they can get under your feet then they undoubtedly will!
As for myself, I always try and be discreet as possible, either on my chair or sat/laying on my unhooking mat but always on the rod within quick grabbing distance (common sense I know but I have been caught out on occasions in years gone by and there's nothing worse especially if your fishing for a bite in limited fishing hours).
As a general rule I'll let the tip dictate the longevity that I'm in any chosen swim, if within 30 to 45 minutes maximum I haven't had as much as a tap then I'm off to swim two, and the same process starts again, but if I have received even a slight bit of attention then I'll sit on my hands and play it by fifteen minutes at a time and see what happens.
If by luck I've put something in the net, I'll then weigh up my options as to whether or not its worth another chuck or move on. Sometimes I have had two and even three fish from a peg before moving on but I rely on my gut or a hunch to dictate this to be honest, as there is obviously no written rule.
Some days or trips, I may only fish two swims but others it maybe four, it all depends on the day and the situations that unfold.
My late afternoon/evening trips are set out exactly the same and nine times out of ten I can be found moving around in the dark for one or two possible swim choices to have half an hour in before venturing off home hopefully with a fish or two in the bag.

                                                         Give It A Go.

All this "Works for me" and I have confidence with it, it suits the hours that I juggle with, and I get in to a rhythm.
So, next time if you're debating going but do not think you have enough time then just think about it for a little longer and push yourself no matter the intended species, pick the hours that you think best suit, put minimal kit in the car and go for it.

Good luck and more importantly in these times that we are facing Stay safe and I'll look forward to bumping into or angling with one or two of you once this horrid storm has blown over.

Back On The Bank With Chub And Udders

Its been a bit of busy and mad year for me so far and things on the fishing front haven't gone quite to plan!
Married in April, honeymoon in May and five gruelling months of trying to move house!!
Its now the second week in October and I'm relieved to say that things seem to have settled down again in the world of the Burr.

During the summer period and with the majority of my tackle packed for moving I decided on some lake therapy. Feeder and waggler fishing for bits a pieces made a nice change with some good bags of silver fish being caught and is something that I intend to do a little bit more of now and then.
In the last two weeks though on my day off I have managed to get out and back on the flowing water of the Great Ouse for a couple of day trips.

A Hunch.

Armed with just a small amount of tackle and bait I was soon unlocking the padlock on the gates just as darkness was turning to light. Black clouds were rolling past above and the weather men were giving heavy downpours as the day progressed.
Surprisingly the river had a slight tinge of colour to it but it was desperately low so in fairness the forecast for rain wasn't a bad thing. As a starting point I decided to head for a swim that I had done ok in on a few previous trips and that I knew had a little more depth of water running off some shallows with the added bonus of a bit of tree cover.



Considering I hadn't stepped foot on the river since July I was feeling quietly confident of a bite or two but maybe that was just the buzz/excitement of actually being out on the bank again after my little break away?
I intended to give swims an hour of my time and if nothing occurred I would move on. By 10.30am after presenting baits in three separate swims the only attention I had received on my rod top were from the crayfish and instincts were telling me to head for a different stretch a few miles further up the road.

Why I had this feeling I don't know? But what I do know is, if you get an angling instinct then act on it, the amount of times that I have had the urge to be somewhere else or to try something different and its paid off for me.
After a short drive up the road I was soon pulling into an empty car park 'lovely' I thought to myself, I had the stretch to myself so decided to go for a quick stroll and a look/see to view any favourable areas. A couple of swims caught my attention where a shallow run of water became a slightly deeper pool with trees positioned at the end of the run, hopefully holding a fish or two within its cover?
Just as I was taking the kit from the car the heavens decided to open and let me have it, luckily the swim had some high reeds on my bank so that I could position myself under the brolly and out of sight of anything with a fins view.
The pace of the water was very slow so baiting with a few loose pellets was fairly straight forward and also with minimum disturbance, hookbait was once again two big juicy lobworms (my take anywhere to catch anything bait), a bait that I have massive faith in. A small P.V.A bag of pellets is then attached to a size 6 hook, not only for the added attraction but also to help lay the rig out on descent.
With the bait placed, I was soon sat back and taking in my new surroundings with a brew in my hand, happy days!
Lunchtime soon passed me by and as yet not a single quiver, tap or pull had taken place, do I sit tight, bait and wait or do I up sticks and trot on? The rain was falling steadily and the comfort of the brolly made the decision for me, I was to stick it out where I was positioned in the hope that the foliage would maybe come up trumps?
At around 2.30pm another light scattering of pellet was placed near to the area before once again settling back in the chair. Just after 3 o'clock and just as I saw a pair of kingfishers darting from left to right at great speed, from the corner of my eye I thought the rod end had tapped sharply? Had it? Na couldn't have, could it?
Within the next few seconds or so it happened, the rod whacked over as something bolted for freedom on the other end whilst trying to take 11ft of carbon with it!
Straight away I could tell it was a reasonable fish as it was doing all it could to tuck me up, but after the initial couple of lunges the best it could come up with was to try and gain sanctuary in the margin rushes that were positioned just down to my left. It was at this point that I realised that the culprit was that of a Chub, and a good Chub at that, thankfully I began to win the battle and after one more short but spirited bid for cover she was skimming the net cord, 'white lips an all'.
Right on cue the rain instantly stopped as if the tap had been turned, it was as if somebody knew that I had a job to do?
I left the fish in the net whilst I gathered the necessary tools for a weigh/mug shot, she looked big but how big?



 On unhooking her, my first thoughts were she might just go to the magical seven pound mark, she looked every bit of it but soon the scales were reading a very pleasing 6lb 7oz, camera on the pod, smile and jobs a good un!

A celebratory stewed tea from the flask was poured and swigged down whilst I packed the gear up before heading for home a 'happy angler'.

 

The Cow Run.

 

 This, my most recent trip had been planned with 'Old Man Burr' aka Daddy a few days earlier while we were at work, he fancied a trip to the river but couldn't make his mind up as to where he fancied going. I had already planned in my head a stretch to try and once again it was one that I knew very little about and had angled only once before and royally blanked!

As planned we met in the parking area just on first light and were soon loading our backs with the tackle required. The stretch is known to hold a small head of Chub and Barbel with the added bonus of the odd better one if you get really lucky, not the easiest but its fishing and you just never know? 'In it to win it and all that'.

Before we got our first glimpse of the river though we had a good length of field to cross and one that was full of cuddly things with udders! Now my old man bless him, hates cows with a passion so off we set with him staying rather close to my side like a big girly thing just in case one took a liking to him. I'm sure he won't mind me saying that he's no spring chicken any more, but he can still put a quick stroll on when there are cows close by!! 

Once we had reached the waters edge it would be fair to say that we'd both got a sweat on thanks to our little power walk but at least we had made it and we could now angle knowing that the heifers were in the first field and we were in the second.

After placing our kit on the ground we then had a quick gander to view potential swims, shallows, deeps, trees and rush beds, the section has the lot. Pops was given first dibs on swim choice and I then decided to drop in some 40yds above him, both choosing to fish swims that had the advantage of a bit of cover and a slightly better depth.

After tackling up further up the bank behind some high nettles and well out of view, I was soon to be creeping my way into the swim with as much care as possible so not to spook anything that might just be waiting for a nice lobworm breakfast. This part of the river is fairly narrow so just a gentle underarm cast was all that was needed, and one that hardly made a splash. My eleven footer had been set upon the rest as low as possible to the waters surface and was more or less facing the baiting position, the line from tip to lead was hanging limpish and I was feeling confident of a pull round. Twenty minutes or so must have passed by when with no warning whatsoever the rod just whacked over and soon I was connected to an angry hooked Chevin that had its heart set on reaching some heavy looking roots and branches that were situated on the far bank.

After a little side strain and pressure was applied, I soon had the fish turned and heading in the direction of my waiting net. Once again she looked a half decent and was left resting in the folds while I sorted the necessaries out. 

 

 

 

The scales revealed a weight of 4.12 and left me feeling quietly satisfied, a short walk upstream to release her was made before I strolled down to tell Daddy of my success and also to see how he was doing while my swim was having a breather following the commotion.

On arriving in his swim his first words were 'where's them bloody cows'? I chuckled and said 'your alright their still in the top field' followed by ' I've had one' 'what a cow?' he muttered. I then chuckled some more and began to tell him the events of my capture while enjoying a brew.

As it turned out, his swim had been quiet be he had seen a couple of half decent rises just down from his position. Shortly after I left him in peace to ponder cows and returned to my swim.

The next cast I made was left in place for a good half hour or so but all seemed quiet and once again I had that feeling that I should perhaps shift.

Ten yards to my left was yet another bush, a somewhat small bush but it looked inviting due to a bit of pacier water that was hitting it and kicking off across the river and causing a slight crease, it wasn't long before I moved and had just settled back in my chair when suddenly I was sitting bolt upright with my right hand hovering above the reel seat following a couple of sharp jagged plucks. For probably another two minutes things settled down again until I decided to grasp my cup and just at that point it happened, the rod hooped over and I was once again connected to what felt like another

reasonable fish, all went smoothly for me and soon she hit the back of the net. Shortly after netting the culprit Dad came ambling by with his kit in tow looking for a move above me, but before he went I asked him for a quick hand in sorting my prize.

She was an immaculate, scale perfect fish with a bit of a belly on her and looked stunning in the October sunlight, her weight was agreed at 5lb 4oz and soon we were once again releasing her.

 

 

Dad carried on his way to a bend just up from me while I chose to put out some more free offerings before making my way up to him and once again let things settle down.

The cows by now had shifted a little and were now in our field but still a fair way away, Dad was aware of their position but just chose to moan and grumble 'bloody things'.

I headed back for another go but only fifteen minutes or so had passed when Dad appeared with his kit on his back and he was looking a bit edgy! 'What's up?' I asked, 'them fecking cows are getting closer' he snorted. By now I was struggling not to piss myself but deep down I know that he really doesn't like them so made the decision to call it a day and get us out of there before Dad needed new pants!

At least we had the chance of beating the rush hour traffic and the old fella would get the colour back in his cheeks. I was happy for my efforts and doubly happy that Pops survived the cow run and couldn't wait to get home for my roast beef dinner.

 

Cheers Dad for amusing me, it was indeed a pleasure.

 

 



Long Hair vs Grey Matter And The Feeder

 After the excitement of the river season kicking in, I have to admit that my fishing fell a little flat on its face what with one thing and another. Although I did manage to grace the banks of my local Great Ouse on three occasions right at the very start of the season and banked half a dozen Chub to up and around the four pound mark before the weather turned blisteringly hot and the levels dropped off.

Coincide this with the fact that I still have the problem of "we have not moved house yet", purchaser pissing about, solicitor pissing about, so in turn my head and thoughts have been everywhere bar angling which is difficult to say the least especially when you work in the trade!

Things seem to be heading in the right direction now though and a completion for early September is on the cards so things should (I say with baited breath) start to settle down in the coming weeks?

With most of my gear now packed, I have made sure a little has been left to hand just in case; a just in case  'grab and go' session could be made as and when I fancy and time prevails?

 



 

 

Less Kit Is More.

 

So over the past couple of weeks I have been grabbing and going, the nice thing with angling in this manner is only a small amount of kit is required. One bucket bag to park my bum on which carries the minimal amount of tackle that I require for a few hours fishing. Half a dozen feeders which consist of three blockend and three open ended in a variety of weights, a spool of hooklink mono, a couple of packets of spade hooks in size 14 and 16, a hook tier and some quick change beads complete the end tackle.

 Bait/feed is also a simple affair with groundbait, castors, maggot and corn being thrown into a large bucket and mixed to my requirements once I am at the waterside.

The rod is prepared at home, broken down and strapped to my landing net handle with tip tops and apart from my net bag and trusty flask, that is the lot, happy days! 

 

Choice Of Water.

 

The water is only a short twenty minute drive from my home and although I had fished it many years ago during my Carping years I had yet to angle it in this manner. At 75 acres it is more often than not a little windswept, it holds all your everyday species from large shoals of Bream and Roach to Tench, Perch, Gudgeon and even the odd Chub shows every now and then so with the prospect of just fishing for bites, potentially it could just about throw anything up at any time and who knows to what size?

 

Session One.

I arrived at the lake just after first light and the wind was blowing a fairly steady South westerly and as I plodded my way along the bank I soon become aware of fish topping in an area some 35 yards or so out on the choppy water "bonus" I muttered to myself. Having located some fish the next thing to do was prepare my sweet, sticky and dark groundbait mix and once done it was soon being loaded into a 50gm feeder and complimented with a double castor hookbait mounted on a size 14 hook.

First cast to the area and I was clipping up and taking note of a distant blot on the landscape for precise accuracy. Second cast in, the tip pulled round good and slow and soon I was netting a nice size skimmer of roughly a pound and a half and this was to be followed up in consecutive casts by a couple more just slightly smaller. My first Roach came to hand after what was probably a dozen casts, it was a nice sized little fella of around seven ounces, immaculate and mirror like, I could almost see my reflection looking back at me!

From that point onwards the silvers just kept coming at me, sometimes the feeder would have only just hit the bottom and on clipping the bail arm over the tip would be taking on its healthy arc.

I had to be away just after 2pm so after what was probably twenty last casts I finally pulled the keepnet in for a last glimpse of my prizes. Roughly 30lb-35lb of silver gems lay in the folds of the mesh with a couple of them being just over the pound mark, with that I left the lake that day with a buzz of excitement and already itching to get back.

 

 

A Pristine Silver







Session Two.

After returning to work the following day and reporting my findings to my colleague and buddy young Daniel. It soon became apparent that he was up for a bit of a social session with the hope for a repeat of my findings. We decided that an evening after work would suit just fine so settled on the coming Monday. This in turn gave us a couple of days plus the weekend to throw banter backwards and forwards and wind the job right up! The same tactics including the bait would be used by both of us as he decided to copy me, but at least it made sense.



 The Whipper Snapper.

 

Monday evening arrived and I was soon collecting Bob Nudd from his hideout, a quick pit stop in MacDonald's for an on the go burger n fries was made and by 7pm we were angling. We had settled in a couple of swims just up from where I had sat the previous session, positioned some twenty yards apart so not only could I see him but I could also smell him!!

With only two hours angling in front us and after all of the build up and banter we had given each other the anticipation for that first bite was getting bigger and bigger. After what was to be Dan's third chuck he received a bite and just as he was pulling it over the waiting pan my tip also bounced round. His first was a mint conditioned Roach and mine turned out to be a striped sergeant, we were now up and running.

Large black clouds were rolling our way but we were catching steadily but soon we were hiding beneath our brolly's and hanging on as the wind picked up its now increasing blow, it was inevitable that whilst holding on to the brolly spike that I would receive a good gentle pull that wanted to just keep on going, on striking I knew that it was a better fish, a fish that turned out to be a Bream of roughly 4lbs or so. The next three casts I made produced three more of our snotty friends of similar size and it was just as I was placing one in the net that I looked down the bank at my little hippy friend only to see him walking the bank to retrieve his brolly that had decided to go air born!!

I took the piss a little and he came back at me a two fingered salute that I just shrugged off and launched another feeder out, shortly after the rain eased off and all seemed comfortable again (I hate brolly's). Dan was picking up some nice Roach which to be fair made a nice change for him instead of the shelter. Time was now ticking on and with only about half hour of daylight remaining I was soon to be playing what turned out to be a nice little Tench that weighed somewhere in the region of 3.5lbs  and by now all I had to do was give a cheeky little cough and that was enough for him to give only a head shake back at me. Ten past nine arrived and we were calling it a day, pleased with our efforts (me more so than my young apprentice), we had had giggle and caught some nice fish.

That's what angling should be.

 



'Cheese Danny Boy'

 

The end of season with two twats and a sock

Once upon a time............. in fact only just last week, two angling mad twats had the urge to fish.

Barbel were supposed to be their target species but after the unfortunate turn in good old British weather the day before, the pre arranged trip to the River Severn was abandoned and changed to two days chubbing on the Gt Ouse!!

It was a shame as the previous week a customer and friend (cockney Al) had been in to the shop after a couple of successful days on the Severn by banking several fish to a creditable 9lbs or so (well done mate).

The mild/wet weather then decided to go minus degrees, North Easterly winds swept in and to complete the job snow showers had put pay to possibly any barbel activity. So, last minute.com had me and Steve changing the tackle bags and rods over to suite silver/bronze instead of gold.

 

Day 1.

After pulling into the car park and dressing ourselves up like we were going to the Antarctic, we steadily made our way with a twenty or so minute walk to the far end of the section. In hindsight this was probably a mistake as by the time we had reached our destination we were both sweating like pigs but once we had sat down and started to angle the sweat started to freeze and in turn we became very cold very quickly. (note to self.......when walking long distances with kit on your back, go naked and get dressed upon arrival at swim).

There was a hard frost on the ground and cat ice that covered most margins so care had to be taken when parking ones arse into ones chosen swims.

As usual the plan was to give swims 45 minutes or so before moving on, depending what was happening? Worms,maggots,steak and cheesepaste were all in the bait bag and each and every one of them were set for a drowning at some point during the day!

Now to say that the 25mph North Easterly winds were playing havoc was an understatement not only with my rod tip but  my eyes were also streaming making it near impossible to see the tip waving and bouncing around in the blustering cold gusts, so soon we were moving on to calmer areas of the river. It was plain to see that conditions and temperatures were not on our side and if were going to get at a bite then it would only come if the baited hook was placed right on the ends of their noses.

So to cut a long but cold,blowy story short, it wasn't until some six hours or so later when we doubled up for a chinwag on a sweeping bend with loads of fast, bubbling turbulent water that we experienced our first action of the day.

By now the snow had started to fall and I had just had a sharp pull on a couple of worms that led to nothing but just as I was concentrating on maybe another bite, all I heard was......".What the f####ing hell have I got on here?" I asked if it was a netting job and he replied "I don't think so" and started to laugh!!

On looking to my right all I could see was a wet,black sock swinging around in the wind and snow, did I laugh and take the piss? of course I did !!

 

 

 

 

It was in the 7-9 range and for sure was Steve's best to date so he was made up by all accounts, a quick video mas made before resting it in the net and casting out again on the hope that the other might just still be in the area.

To be honest it was more than I had caught all day so it was quite a welcoming sight.

No other bites were forthcoming so after a last flasked brew we called it a day and agreed that day 2 would be on another stretch.

 

Day 2.

After agreeing on a different venue we were soon meeting up in the car park which to be honest looked like a doggers paradise with flunky's and tissues galore so after making a mental note to myself I regained composure and said to Steve "have you been here before mate".

He just looked at me and replied "get your kit on your back, the sun is shining"

This part of the Ouse is a slower and deeper section with the odd tree/bush, the wind was a little lighter but instead of being in our faces it was blowing upstream. After a wander we were soon sitting in our starting positions and both choosing worms as bait whilst spraying maggot over the top. It looked not only chubby but perchy too. It was not a stretch that I was too familiar with but Steve had angled here a few times and assured me there were fish to be had.

The sunshine soon disappeared and changed to darker clouds that started to deposit a light flutter of snow once again (roll on winter I say)!! After an hour or so and not even a tap we decided to up sticks and stroll on to pastures new. Three swims each were tried in total and then the decision was made to move to a different section some ten minutes drive away.

Soon we were walking the path that leads to yet another piece of the river and one that we were slightly more familiar with, known to have done chub to high sevens although not that easy. Earlier in the year I had managed to take a nice net full of perch from here so at least we stood a chance of either species. It wasn't until we moved to our second pitch that Steve managed a proper bite that took the liking to a worm hookbait. On hooking the fish I shouted "is it pulling back or could it be a shoe" "Na its pulling back alright" was his reply as the rod lunged over and the fish held deep in its watery home. By now I had wound in and was marching through the mud to grab the net and scoop the bugger up. Soon it was ours, I say ours as it was a team effort after a hard couple of days and it felt so much like we had earned it.

 

 

 

5lb 6oz was the weight recorded and although he was complaining that his hands were cold I just told the poof to stop moaning and just smile and you can see by the picture that he just about managed it.

We had another chuck and gave it half hour or so but nothing else was willing and I had drawn an end of season blank, still I was pleased that Gaylord had saved our blushes with one sock and a five pound chub.

So that was the end to the season, not the best I hear you say but I enjoyed trying and could easily have stayed at home or gone to work but that wouldn't have been half as much fun eh? A three month river rest will now be had and I'll turn my attentions to a bit of canal Perch or Roach fishing or maybe a lake Tench if this weather ever warms up!!

Mr Chubbly Warmer

I nearly wimped out going this week, the forecast was saying there was a chance of wintry showers, the temperature was +2 but feeling like -4 due to the wind factor and it wasn't until the better half said "if your staying local then just go and if its not happening come home" those wise words were taken on board, the flask was made and off I went on the ten minute or so drive.

Earlier in the week my new pin arrived so I was gagging to get out and give it a go on the float and maggot. But as a back up the tip rod ventured out with me just in case the conditions were not suitable for the float attack. 

The river itself is a tributary of the Gt Ouse and looked cock on with a little extra water and slight tinge of colour, but would the fish be up for it? 

The first swim I chose was a straight that would offer me the chance to work the 8BB avon float that was paired up with a size 16 hook and a couple of white maggots. After what was probably fifteen runs through the swim and with continuous feeding suddenly the float buried away and soon I was playing my first pin caught chevin of around the two and a half pound mark.

 

I kept on feeding and feeding but no other bites were forth coming and  to be honest my hands were bloody freezing so it was time for a move and I would try the peg again for a few trots on my way back past later in the day. The move would also play a part in getting the old blood circulating again as I strolled on down the meadow in to the next field.

The next swim was a sharp bend with a big tree that leaned right across the river from the far bank and debris had built up over time and presented the angler with a big raft with quite deep water below.

The tip rod coupled with my std link ledger set up and a couple of big lobworms was the plan for this peg as I could let the end tackle bounce round and hopefully settle next to the raft.

 

After casting in with a gentle flick I then settled back, poured a brew and took in the surroundings.

Its funny how our minds wander, as I sat there thinking back to the times when I was still in my teens and used to get dropped off to this little river most Sundays to fish the junior matches for my local club, I even used to bike here with my little trailer in tow during the school holidays (and on bunk off days!!). The river itself does not seemed to have changed too much from how I remember it all those years ago and it certainly is a little gem.

 Back to the fishing, I had just placed my cup back on the flask when a small tap indicated that something was sniffing around my hookbait, then another before it gently pulled round with what I would call "a bit of grace". On pulling into the culprit, from the off I could tell it was a better fish as it just held deeper as it tried to plod its way towards the raft, but the gear held out and there was soon a big pair of white lips gliding towards the waiting net. Left to rest for a few moments while I sorted the necessary gear out to make it a star.

  

A weight of 5.04 was recorded and soon I was smiling at myself through the camera lens for a quick couple of shots.  You can just make out the damaged tail on her, cute and cuddly otters?? maybe, but I'd like to hope not! I then placed the fish back in the net, dipped her in the water for a refresh before taking her a short walk downstream for release.

I angled on in the same swim for another half hour or so but apart from a crayfish type annoyance, nothing else occurred so once again it was time to move on and into my final swim for the morning but first I had to stop as planned and have a dozen runs through with the float in the earlier swim but all was to no avail so I quickly passed through and made my way back to the weir pool end of the stretch.

It was now late in the morning, the cold wind had increased making it feel even colder, it was also an upstream wind that was causing large ripples on the surface, again I decided to go with the tip rod and position it as low to the waters surface as possible. Two gigantic worms were taken from the tub and cast out right into the main flow and turbulent frothy water.

As I sat there, listening to the drone that was being made from the weirs the rod tip suddenly took on an arc that could only mean one thing "fish on".

To begin with it felt perchy, head shaking and dogged, fighting for all it was worth against the six pound line, but after my first sighting of the scaly culprit it was soon to be recognised as another reasonable sized chub that was scale perfect and plump as a pudding. A quick weigh that registered 4lb 8oz was made before again resting her in the margin while I sorted myself out. I was feeling quite pleased at this point and decided to call it a day while I was ahead.

Two methods, three swims, three bites and three fish all in a cold mornings work. Was I happy? 

Of course I was. 

She looked so cold with no clothes on



23rd January 2013

Now that the heading has grabbed your attention, I shall begin.

The evening before my latest trip I really wasn't sure where I would be heading, but heading somewhere I would be.

I was fancying my chances at a Gt Ouse chub, hopefully complete with an ending snow shot.

Minimum gear was readied, one small bag/bucket to sit on, one rod, a landing net plus my small unhooking mat which doubles up for extra cushioning upon my bucket bag. A flask, couple of sarnies and my hand warmer and silly hat completed the requirements.

On route I had to collect Steve as he was to be joining me (even after calling me bonkers) or words to those affect. With icy roads and snow still laying all around, a steady plod was made and one hour after leaving home we were soon fighting as to who was going to unlock the cold padlock to the fisheries gates.

With white stuff covering our boots we slowly made our way down the track towards the end of the section crunching our way as we went. It certainly looked a picture, the two lakes behind us were frozen solid and topped with snow. The only things that stood out a mile against the white background were the cormorants that were circling the area.

We chose our starting points and both our minds were set with the view of moving on after half hour or so depending on results or lack of them! The bait bag only consisted of worms, a small ball of cheese paste and some garlic steak (freshly prepared a few weeks earlier and thrown into the freezer).

Six pound line straight through to a size 6 Nash Fang Gaper hook, whilst two 3xSSG shots were pinched onto a small tag of line and secured in place by two floatstops allowing me to change the hooklink length if I felt the need to.

The river itself looked sexy to be fair with a nice tinge of colour and an extra couple of feet of water on her. I settled into swim and gently flicked two of the biggest lobworms I could find in the tub out onto the crease that was being produced from an upstream tree, I then sat back poured a brew and took in my surroundings. The only thing to catch my eye in the first pitch was a busy kingfisher that kept on darting backwards and forwards at a rate and at one point he actually stopped on some trailing branches opposite to view below for some breakfast, I on the other hand was too slow to react to get a shot of him with the camera. That first swim produced not a single knock so I was soon moving on.

Swim two was a fair bit shallower and the water was a lot pacier midstream but under my feet to the right there was a pool of slacker water. Bait was changed to a two inch slither of raw garlic steak, a gentle swing out on to the flow and left to bounce round and fall to the back end of the slack water. No sooner had I parked my arse down on my seat, the rod end tapped before taking on a full savage bite and I was in. The chub tried its hardest to get to some near bank foliage but with an extra left hook I managed to steer her clear and soon she was in the folds of my net and resting in the margin. I poured a brew and whistled down the bank to Mr Craptree (sorry Bernard) or Steve as he is more commonly known and he was soon by my side to do the honours with the camera. One thing I noticed as I lay her down on the soft snow to unhook her was "how cold she looked with no clothes on".

The hook was removed, I then made sure my hat was straight and my best side was facing the lens while Steve aimed the camera in my general direction.

A weight was guesstimated somewhere in the region of three to four pounds, not massive by today's standards but the snow shot was mine and I was happy. Another cast was made and after another brew it was time to move on.

 Swim three produced nothing for me but for Steve his did and he chipped in with one of a similar size on cheesepaste. I returned the favour of photographer, took the piss a little and soon we were in our fourth and final swims for the session.

I stayed on the the steak for a cast before swapping over to the cheesepaste as Steve had received another proper pull but struck into thin air in his position some twenty yards or so upstream of me.

Half hour was given but apart from a tiny little knock nothing else happened and by now the snow had returned and was falling quite steadily as we packed the gear together and left for home feeling quite warm and content with our efforts.

Hungry like the horse

It was a funny old Christmas and New year, mainly because a tooth decided to give me a bit of grief and turned itself from an ache to an infection in to a fully blown abscess, great!!!

What with work and family commitments it was difficult to find the time to get out and drown a bait, even on the days that I had planned to, the weather was blowing a gale and hissing it down so I ditched the idea on two occasions and chose to stay at home in the warm and dry and annoy the Mrs, it did not help either that most of the rivers round my way were up to their throats with raging dirty water (even the canal was as bad) so I probably didn't miss out on too much?

Monday 7th January 2013

As planned, Carl (my eldest son) was at the roundabout for just after 7am, we threw his gear into the back of my truck and off we set for the thirty five minute or so journey to the stream/ditch. I was virginal to this small river and to be fair I didn't really know too much about it apart from it has a good head of small barbel/chub to around mid singles with the odd better fish a maybe.

After doing battle with the rush hour traffic we were soon pulling up at the top of the field on a main road with cars whizzing by at a rate that Lewis Hamilton would have been proud of!!

Quickly we unloaded and in his words "lob it over this fence boy", I obliged, looked at him and just giggled, after all I was in his hands as he had been here once before.

After a short walk down the headland dodging horse crap as we went we were soon standing on the edge of the stream observing. Surprisingly it was very low and gin clear, like tap water in fact. The day was cloudy and overcast so that was a plus point but with the clarity of the water it was clear to see where the fish weren't and that in turn narrowed down the swim choices to single figures spread across the two or so fields. After taking the advice of a work colleague to have a base camp  for the bulk of our tackle (thinking back now I think he stitched us up as he knew the score and knew what  the outcome would be) which in turn would then leave us to free roam up and down the stretch at ease.

We each sorted a rod, net and a mat out while a bait pouch finished the requirements for sneaking about. First plan of attack was to work the river to our left (downstream), the spare tackle was strategically placed in a nice tidy pile behind and up against a couple of small trees that were waters edge and off we trotted. Deeper holes or snags would offer us the best chance of a pull so that was what we went looking for. Meat was the starting bait, not big lumps but whittled down bits that would just cover a size 4 hook while a single SSG was pinched on to a tag of line that was secured to the mainline by a floatstop. Our first swims provided us with not a jot but the second produced a small chub of a couple of pound to Carl (or Doogle) as he is known in the trade, I had settled in a swim just around the bend from his position where the river swept from right to left with a bit of  depth and a bit more pace. I had just received a sharp jaggy bite when Doogle pitched up in my swim to see how I was getting on. There was enough room to my right so I suggested that he dropped his hookbait in for ten minutes under the trailing branches from a far bank tree. As we sat there having a smoke and a chinwag whilst perched on a comfortable log Carl received a bite just after lifting and lowering the bait, it was a scrapper alright and hung on for all it was worth but just as his fight was coming to an end the tip on my rod hooped over and soon we were both doing battle. A chevin of roughly three pounds was the culprit on mine but Doogles turned out to be a perfect and pristine little January barbel of about three and a half pounds. Both fish were left in the landing net just to our right rather than being returned straight away while we both had another lob just in case there were any others looking for a meaty breakfast!

After giving it probably another twenty minutes or so with no other pulls we made the decision to amble back to base for a brew and a sarnie but first we would take a couple of shots of Carl's little bar of immaculate gold.

What we experienced next can only be described as total carnage, as we neared our spare tackle we could see and sense that something wasn't quite right!

See, in this field were about twenty horses of all different shapes and sizes and the majority of them were now further down the field, but one (pic below)  looked like he was stood on guard not ten yards from our gear and it soon became apparent what had happened.

My small roving bag which is a fox 16ltr bucket bag was near empty and upside down in the margin of the river as was Carl's rucksack but his was a little further out, I had prepared us some beef (left over from my Sunday roast) and mustard rolls, well they were gone as were a complete packet of chocolate digestives, two packets of crisps and a couple of wispa bars, oh and not forgetting the two maggot feeders that were in the bag loose, they'd eaten the bloody lot!!

My flask had been kicked about all over the field and I swear if they could have got the lid off they'd have drunk that as well, our chairs were five yards away from were we had left them but luckily for me they hadn't totalled my camera although they had a go as they hadn't quite worked out how to get the buckle undone! We did laugh, although now we were starving and boyo hadn't even thought to put any grub in at all so now were buggered. I wiped the mud from the flask and poured us a brew while we sat back and tried to work what the hell had just happened?

After our tea break and clear up we set off to the right of base camp but this time we took all tackle with us (I wonder why?). I swapped over to the maggot feeder and short hooklink approach as I felt my best chance would be to target the chub and if a barbel come along then that would be a bonus.

Whilst walking up the stretch to find some likely looking areas the picture above was hard to resist, with the winds and flooding that we had been experiencing over the past few weeks it seemed to have really taken its toll on this tree and with it came the bank plus the rivers edge.

I picked a swim that had some pacy water to my right as it swept round a small bend before flattening off in front of me and dropping off slowly under some trailing twigs that were hanging just of the waters surface. First flick out and soon the tip pulled round and a chublet was swung to hand. A few more silver fish were taken from this spot but nothing of any size not that it mattered but one thing that impressed me was the quality of the fish they were all immaculate, perfectly scaled and coloured as the roach below shows. 

Carl had stayed on the meat tactics but apart from a couple of jags nothing else materialised in to full on bites. The time was now 1.30pm and I was hank marvin so we decided to get back to the truck and head off down the road and visit the garage and sample some of its pre packed,curled up sarnies but also I purchased a new shiny packet of chocolate digestives just as a little treat of course.

We then spoilt ourselves with our purchases and made the decision to have a little go just up the road on a free section in the nearby village not far from where the source starts.

Again I chose the maggot approach as did Carl as we both felt the prospect of chub would be the better option due to the conditions. I'd like to tell you that we bagged up and it was non stop action but it wasn't, I had a couple of real good pull rounds that left me striking in to thin air and his nibs saved the blank afternoon by mugging a small chub of about a pound. Four o'clock came round so we decided enough was enough and it was time to beat the rush hour traffic and get home home for a nice evening meal that wouldn't be snatched from our grasps by a four legged thieving bloody horse!

Cheers son, it was a giggle but next time do some spare pack up as back up and leave your pets at home.

Down Shropshire way

It was Saturday 8th of September, myself and Lady J were heading up the M40 to destination River Severn for a weeks chill out. My Brother and his partner(Mel) were in tow and we were on course to meet up with my parents for a full English at 9am at a cafe in Bewdley. After all arriving safely we were soon tucking in and filling our stomachs to brimming point before heading off to grab some supplies (food etc) and then it was off to the pub up the road for a quick pint before heading to our bank side lodge that was to be our home for the week.

The lodge is in the most beautiful of settings, fifteen yards from the front door to the rivers bank down a private single track lane surrounded by tall trees leading to open fields with an abundance of wildlife complete with as much peace and quiet you could ever wish for (including hit and miss phone reception) lovely jubbly. Fifty or so yards behind us sits the historic Severn valley Railway that chugs and smokes its way for 16 miles between  Bridgnorth and Kidderminster following the course of the Severn as it goes.

Daytime's were to be spent out and about with the good lady and plans had been made as to where we fancied visiting during our stay. The evenings were to be my main fishing hours although a couple of early morning sessions were also snatched while leaving little Miss sleepy head all tucked up.  

Bridgnorth,Kidderminster,Shrewsbury and Worcester were all on the hit list as was the West Midlands Safari Park and any other little stops that we fancied along the way.

Bridgnorth cliff railway

Just briefly while on the subject of the safari park, to the amusement of Ma and Pa who were situated in the rear of the truck ( Dad wouldn't take his hairdressers car in case it got licked to death) certain obvious areas we were allowed to have the car windows open and others ie... the lions and tigers etc.. we were not! As I pulled up to a free roaming giraffe I casually put the window down to look up at my new found friend only for the wind to gust and blow my cap clean off my barnet, leaving the car was a little intimidating to say the least but fear not I did survive.

This fella was after one of my rhubarb and custard boiled sweets!!

Simples.

Back to the fishing side of things and as I said earlier, most evenings after filling my belly I could be found situated in one of the many beautiful swims that stretch through the nearby fields and each time I ventured out I would at least try to fish a different peg unless I felt otherwise or had one of them hunches us anglers get. Lady J joined me on most evenings and by the end of the week she could still be found out there well in to darkness and intensely watching the rod top and even admitted that she was enjoying it and could see why us men have ten last casts!

In her greens.

Over the years usually one calamity will happen and this year was to be no different!

The time was roughly 9ish and all was quiet apart from the owls occasionally hooting, myself, Paul and Dad were all spread out with about twenty yards each between us, the two girls were out there with us also.

All of a sudden Dad let out a cry and was laying on the floor but because we couldn't see we could not get the full effect of what had just happened. It turns out that Dad stood up and stepped up a ledge to take a pee but in doing so his foot slipped into a crack in the ground and he fell over on to his back, to make matters worse he'd got the little fella in his hand and was mid flow, so all we heard was "oh no I've just pissed all over myself "!! Laugh? we nearly pissed ourselves.

All three of us caught on most evenings, sometimes one,two if not three or so barbel with the odd chub thrown in too even Jackie got in on the act and wound a splasher of about three and a half pound or so in on the last evening when four fish came to my net in a couple of hours angling

It was refreshing to see fish of this size.

All in all we had a great week that as always is over too quick, between the three of us we managed thirty or so barbel and half a dozen chub, Dad knocked out the best fish at 9lb 12oz followed up by Paul with one bang on 9lb. My best of the week just scraped over the 8lb mark, not massive but still made me smile and gave me the buzz that the bite always does.

Talking of making me smile, Thursday evening while sitting out under the stars watching the isotope on a clear night while sharing a coffee poured from the flask with Lady J,(ain't I romantic) I said those four little words "will you marry me" and thankfully she obliged with a "yes" .

My best of the week.

All in all the week was very enjoyable, with gorgeous surroundings and great company.

And the little lady did say "yes"