19/01/24 - Not getting any easier

With the cold weather continuing through the week I thought I'd have another go for the grayling in the hope that they'd had a few more days to acclimatise to the temperature and make their way back into their pre-flood haunts. Had an appointment in the morning, but wasn't in a rush to get out anyway as it had been minus 4 degrees Celcius overnight. 

Therefore got work out the way first and headed to the Derwent after lunch when the sun was about as high as it was going to get and the temperature was a much more bearable 1 degree! There was a couple of cars in the car park when I arrived, but looking downstream I could see their owners hunkered down out of the breeze with rods up on rests, presumably after a chub, so got togged up before heading upstream. The river was still at about the upper level that I'd normally fish it with the float rod, still influenced by releases from the reservoirs further upstream, and in my first swim I could just about comfortably stand in the margins. However, third trot down the avon disappeared and I felt the familiar mad gyrating of a grayling on the end of the line. 

Bumped one soon after and as there appeared to be a few fish about I decided at this point to put in a couple of droppers full of maggots at the head of the swim. May not have been the best decision as over the next hour I could only manage one more fish so, despite the sun nicely warming my back, I headed downstream to my next usual spot noting where the river had breached the flood bank and meandered across the adjacent field. Discovered that a tree had come down in the margins making access into the water impossible, so found myself in my third swim a bit sooner than expected. Funnelled by the island upstream the main flow was whipping along the far bank. However, the pace inside was far gentler and althought the water was only about three feet deep I reckoned that's where I'd be if I was a grayling. 

Didn't bother with the dropper this time as I was a bit more confident that my loose feed would be getting down to the deck in the shallower water. Seemed to be correct on both counts as after a few trots down I had another grayling that, although modest in size, punched above its weight in the flow. Added half a dozen more over the next hour and whilst not as prolific as normal, at least I was getting a few bites. However, when I bumped a good fish at range (the maggot had folded back onto the hook at just the wrong time!) and with the sun falling lower in the sky, I opted to try another, usually reliable swim a bit further downstream. Again, with hindsight it wasn't one of my better decisons as I couldn't buy a single bite. 

In addition, as the sun disappeared the combination of the falling temperature and upstream wind began to bite and my fingers that were in contact with the metal cage of the centrepin were soon completely numb, so headed back to the car. On the way home, the stubble that had been washed off the fields and trapped on the roadside fence betrayed how high the water level had been over the winter, reaching its highest recorded level, so it possibly wasn't surprising that the river and its inhabitants hadn't yet returned to normal. 

However, looking at the forecast for the weekend we've got rain, double figure temperatures and 70 mile an hour winds to look forward to. Bonkers!