With the weather miraculously becoming stable for the longest period in months I had to make the most of it and get some work done hence my fishing sessions were short and not as often as I would have liked.
I persevered with the area that gave me the double for several more sessions but couldn't buy a bite for love nor money bar a rogue chub which I find a bit strange after the quick result on my first visit, buit that's fishing for you.I did have a return trip to the stretch of Soar that produced the nine pounder but on a bailiffing visit I found that it was seeing quite a bit of attention and so that idea was put on the back burner.
Last Tuesday I decided that I felt like getting a bite or two and so headed up to the Derwent, despite fishing a very reliable swim the going was tough and it was down to one feisty seven pounder to save the blank, better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.
Wednesday evening saw me back on the Soar for one last go at the barbel as I had made the decision to have a change of species. I made a very long walk to a swim that I hadn't fished for several years, it was always a cracking looking spot but it now looks even better with a long line of tangled woodwork providing a five star barbel hotel.
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| If I was a barbel I'd live there |
No sooner had I settled down to watch the rod tips when I had a nasty thought, I'd left my headtorch on the kitchen worktop ready to pack, it was still there, that cut my session down to about two hours. A bream of probably five pounds showed up just before dusk set in and that was my lot, I made the long walk back to the van feeling a bit dejected that I'd cocked up the last session of my mini campaign.
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| Nearly home time |
Glad it's not just me, I've put a spare set in my bag ...... I think...damn I'm gonna have to go and check now!
ReplyDeleteThat's the tip of the iceberg Lee, I often forget things much more important than that!
ReplyDelete