Everyone has a bad run now and then, it's just galling when your fishing time is limited and every session counts. Time to grin and bear it and hope you come out of it on the other side with something spectacular. Well, several sessions later I'm still waiting! First up was a trip after some hungry, back-end brownies, which I thought would be lining up to climb up my line. Made my way through the maize to find the river desperately in need of some rain.
Not quite as high as an elephant's eye..
Bare bones
Apart from where there was enough flow to scour them clean, the stones on the bed of the river were covered in a brown, scummy layer of diatoms. Also, with less dilution, several more ochrous springs were making their presence felt, staining the bed with their bright orange deposits.
Sludge!
Any old iron?
Dropped my nymph into the faster runs to no avail. The fish were there - I could see them shooting off in the clear, shallow water as I made my way upstream! I did find a spectacular bracket fungus, the sulphur polypore, and an old Peck's meat paste jar.
Chicken of the woods
Was beginning to think that this would be my first trout blank of the year when the tip eventually jagged over as a little one finally took my fly.
Er....chicken paste of the woods?
Small, but very welcome!
Next was a return trip to a similarly low and clear River Soar. Started off with the float rod as usual and found that, in contrast to the last session in the same spot and despite the constant attention of the micro-chub, the roach were there in good numbers. Trotted away happily, catching roach, chub, dace, bleak and small perch. However, apart from a couple of delicate knocks resulting in a stolen bait, the paternoster rod I put out out for a big stripey stayed ominously quiet. Dropping it next to the bush at last knockings resulted in the inevitable - a violent twang on the rod tip followed by acrobatics from an angry pike.
Not a perch!
When I got back home and hung out my landing net, I found I'd picked up a hitch hiker. A couple of days in a bait tub with some leaves and he was returned none the worse for wear.
Hey up, little 'un!
Final trip of note (?!) was down to Saunton, where I hoped to better my first and only Devon bass caught on my last visit. I had checked Joel's blog and was encouraged to see that he'd had 25 fish off the estuary the week before. However, that was when conditions were good. Unfortunately my arrival coincided with a change to gloomy, cold, wet weather and a howling gale!
I think that's the sun??
Flogged away anyway, fishing topwater lures at slack water and then fishing down the tide with soft plastics. Managed one take in about 7 hours fishing.....and that came off. At least I got to see Verity again on the one decent day of the weekend.
Are you looking at my bum?
Oh well, keep calm and carry on as they say - there's a big fish waiting 'round the corner, I know it!
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