I was on my way to Toton to fish the 'wash again, but had a inexplicable last minute change of heart and hung a left at Beeston, intending to see if the canal roach were shoaled up against the lock. The weren't, and neither of the old boys fishing the canal had had a bite, so I hot footed it over to the river. It was suprisingly busy, I spoke to six other anglers while I roamed, three had caught, small chub for two of them and three decent chub with the biggest knocking at the doors of five to a guy fishing near the bend, all taken on meat. I found that I was struggling, of course the now obligatory minnows put in an appearance, but I couldn't find any of the roach or dace I had hoped for.
I spent more time walking than fishing, and its possible that some swims might have been woken up with more concerted feeding, but the joy of roving is to go seeking the fish, rather than waiting for them to come to you. After three hours of wandering, and as the last light of the light faded I found myself back below the weir, paddling 50ft from the bank with the maggots in a 4ft deep hole. after a couple of timy perch I was happy to catch this seasons first Ruffe, a tiny one, but at least another species for my season tally. I tossed it on the scales, at 3.9g it would certainly be my smallest weighed of the species... so an achievement of sorts!
No comments:
Post a Comment