Felt strangely apathetic when I woke up this morning given that it was the last day of the river season. Didn't help that we'd flashed down to see the in-laws in Pembrokeshire at the weekend and I'd stupidly crocked my back by trying to be helpful and doing a few jobs in the yard, so wasn't feeling 100%.
However, after a leisurely breakfast, a strong coffee and a couple of paracetamol I decided to throw some tackle, including my float and quiver tip rods, into the van and see how the day developed. Had it in mind to head to the River Dove anyway following a tip about some decent grayling captures from my friend Dai, but on a complete whim I opted to try a club section upstream of Rocester that I'd never been to before. Limited to just two members at any one time there was a chance that I'd get it all to myself and so it proved. Standing on the bridge in the early morning sun I could see all the way up to the top of the section and it looked perfect for trotting - steady pace with a nice green tinge as the water deepened in the centre of the channel - so struggled into my chesties and headed upstream.
It turned out to be a bit streamy right up the top end, so dropped into the river a little way back downstream where it had flattened out and dropped to a brisk walking pace.
Started trotting away and on about the second run down had a small, but perfectly formed, grayling. Quickly added a few more before I caught the inevitable brownie. Somebody had obviously forgotten to tell them that their season didn't start for another few days as they became an absolute pain in the arse.
At one stage they threatened to overwhelm the number of grayling I was catching and at this point I think I would have been forced to go elsewhere. Thankfully the grayling count kept ticking over and I started to catch some better fish although sadly quite a few had bird damage, including what turned out to be the best fish of the day - a male with a split dorsal and big stab wound in his back.
Whilst I was fishing a pair of very vocal greater spotted woodpeckers were getting frisky in the trees opposite me and I saw a dipper heading upstream with what looked like a large beakful of material for its nest - something they take very seriously, taking as long as a month to build a large domed structure of moss, grass and leaves on a ledge or in a crevice over running water. A less welcome sign of spring were the viscious green nettle tops peeking through the grass, several of which I found with my exposed wrists and hands whilst clambouring out of the river on all fours (still tingling a day later). More unexpected was the cheery "hello!" that came from the opposite bank.
Looked up to see two middle-aged ladies carrying towels and watched them head a bit further upstream where they divested themselves of their robes to reveal swimming costumes and then jumped in the river!
They must have been hardy souls as I was able to vouch for the fact that the river was still flippin' cold. Lulled into a false sense of security by the weather forecast I had negelected to put on my thermals on this morning, so was losing feeing in my legs after an hour or so. I was therefore glad when the bites dried up giving me chance to sit in the sun to warm back up a bit. Moved a little way downstream and scrabbled down the bank into my next spot where something had made a recent snack of large signal crayfish.
This swim gave me a much longer run down towards some trees so was able to give the Acolyte a proper test, the only limitation to how far I could let the float go being my crap eyesight.
The extra length made it easy to pick the line up on the strike at distance and I only bumped a handful of fish all day. Equally, playing fish all the back way upstream was no problem even when I managed to "t-bone" a decent trout, hooking it right in the middle of it's back, which lead me to believe for a few stomach-churning minutes that I'd got the mother of all grayling on the end of my line! Had only meant to fish until lunchtime, then go and get some food and perhaps try somewhere else.
However, time had absolutely flown by as I'd been enjoying the fishing and surroundings so much - even when the farmer decide to fire up his muck spreader upwind of me in the field opposite! Made one more move downstream and carried on catching grayling and spotties in almost equal measure before finally calling it quits at around 4 pm. Ended up with 24 grayling to 1lb 8oz and 21 brownies to just under a pound. We'll see if I can be bothered with any close season dabblings, otherwise roll on June!
That’s some session, well done.
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