Been looking for an opportunity to get out all week on the little brook and having already been thwarted twice and with Storm Claudia on its way it was now or never.
Luckily it promised to be a nice day with no rain and the strong southerly wind that we'd been experiencing all week dropping off to virually nothing before switching to a colder and less welcome north-easterly. Therefore finished work at 3 o'clock, jumped in the car and set off along the A52 towards Derby. My tackle and bait had been in the car all week ready for a quick getaway and the interior had taken on a fetching aroma of "vintage" cheespaste as a result. Half an hour later I was parked up and yomping down the field to the brook, which looked absolutely perfect - fining down but with just the right amount of colour. Reckoned I had about an hour and a half before it got fully dark so only planned to fish a few, reliable spots.
These I pre-baited with a few small pieces of paste as I walked upstream. As last season, there was no evidence that anybody else had been fishing the brook recently, if at all - too far to walk for most and nowhere to plant a seatbox when you did get there. I'd just got my rod, landing net, rod rest and a small bag of bits as I intended to stay mobile. Watched a kingfisher for a few minutes in the first swim while the loose feed worked its magic and then swang out a lump of paste dotted with some Sonubaits cheesy garlic "lava" out onto the crease. The bait had hardly settled when the tip of my 8 foot Specialist Quiver knocked a couple of times and a hasty and over-enthusiastic strike sent my link leger whizzing past my ear.
Managed to repeat the feat on the next cast, so sat on my hands and waited for the quiver to properly pull round, resulting in the first chub of the session. Quickly added a second but then started striking into thin air again, possibly due to small fish pecking at the bait rather than swallowing it, so moved down to the next swim having already used up a chunk of my time. Again the action was instantaneous - chub really are so obliging! Added two more to the tally in consecutive casts before snagging one of the little tiddlers that had been bothering me. Had to wait a bit longer in the next spot and again it was just a small one so with the light rapidly fading I headed to my final swim - the pool downstream of the footbridge where I'd previously been stitched up (twice!) by a much better chub.
Once more, I had a bite straight away but not from the stamp of fish I was after. Carried on as the gloom descended but rather than bring more bites the darkness seemed todiscourage them instead. Packed up and headed back up the hill to the car, puffing out clouds in the beam of my head torch. Hadn't had anything huge but it was nice to get a bend in the light rod and I'd caught more fish in 90 minutes than in a whole series of Mortimer and Whitehouse (Aaaah, but it's not just about the fishing, is it?). Got home the same time as the wife who'd come back from the vet with the cat £1500 lighter after some dental work, x-rays and various tests! Weather absolutely shocking tomorrow, but looking promising again next week, albeit a lot colder, so hopefully some more smash and grab sessions will be on the cards.
