tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8935513394612566232024-03-14T12:20:09.191+00:00trentjims tribulationstrentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.comBlogger84125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-82323871290497954512014-06-21T23:59:00.000+01:002014-07-01T17:46:01.556+01:00Eds first fishing tripThe blog resumes...<br />
More or less a year since the last post... There was of course already a baby en-route even then, So the summer passed in a haze of DIY and staying close by as the little un's due date came and went. Eventually the little chap turned up and life will never be the same again. Eight months old as the season commenced I reckoned he was ready for his first fishing trip, so as the first friday of the season came around the camper van was loaded up with a few items not usually on my overnight manifest... car seat... travel cot...baby bottles... and of course, the most precious cargo, little Ed himself.<br />
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It was well into the evening as I splashed through the rutted gulleys of the road to The Pads. The first days of the season had been relatively productive, it had been quite well fished & with a handful of carp out so i was pretty excited, though I would not go so far as to say optimistic, this stretch has still never graced me with a carp.... I was suprised how quiet the stretch was, Dale was the only other angler, just settling in as I arrived he was yet to see any action. This years new addition - a decking jetty had created a fishable peg out of a derelict one, and was fortunately free... so I pulled up baited with a few handfuls of pellets and boilies and got two rods out.. all while Eds remained asleep in the back. That was it for the active fishing though, as feeding and changing ate up the next hour or so and it was nearing sundown before i could once more give the river my attention, this time with my new fishing buddy helping me watch the rods. <br />
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The morning passed without incident, and after we had both breakfasted I gave Ed's his first fishing lesson. Other club members began drifting in from about 9am... and with my peg in demand I was packed and away well before midday - a good solid blank, typical start tot a season.</div>
<br />trentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-39679138361407564292013-06-23T23:59:00.000+01:002013-06-24T13:10:17.236+01:00Super Moon - Super Quiet17th & 23rd June - Middle Trent<br />
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Following Sundays Barbel from the weir I was feeling the urge for some predator action... My home bait fridge/ freezer is out of action due to an earth/wiring issue (Probably due to rodent action on the subfloor cables) Therefore any baits would have to be fresh... but I didn't anticipate any problems with this, it is a rare occasion that I struggle to find small silvers on the Trent or its tributaries during the summer months. I dropped into Matchman supplies for a pint of maggots on my way to work, and by about half four I was dodging potholes as I trundled along the track to the Ferry field.<br />
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Of course I might have guessed that the day that I go predator hunting without backup baits would be the day the baitfish failed to show. After two hours of regular feeding the peg I had chosen still hadn't come to life, and an hour in each of the immediate upstream and downstream pegs fared no better. Left with no option I went to plan B, thinking of the parallels between this evening and my last session in this peg in the autumn as I baited up with prawn boilies and settled down behind the rods to enjoy the what remained of the evening. I blanked - not only that but I didn't even see a single sign of a fish, Nor any grebes, herons, kingfishers, cormorants or terns.<br />
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Not to easily be beaten I tried again on Saturday evening, the night of the so-called "Supermoon". It was almost a carbon copy of Mondays events, except that I tried floatfished maggots beneath every overhanging tree and in every peg - Nothing. I then tried a maggot feeder for a while with exactly the same result. Not only that but not a single rise, dimple or splash to indicate any fish anywhere. I fished big bunches of maggots overnight in several locations between margins and midriver - careful inspection the following morning revealed not one had even been sucked. The only nod to there being any life on this stretch of the Trent was a midriver splashy jumpy "rise" that I suspect was a jack pike and a solitary tern that made several stoops towards the water surface near the far bank, but failing to identify a target worthy of getting wet it didn't dive.<br />
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So week one of the season has seen me fish four times and blank on three of them. Maybe time to move again. Perhaps somewhere with less water...trentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-3306831751819663562013-06-16T23:59:00.000+01:002013-06-19T23:15:11.642+01:00If at first you dont succeed... MOVE!So the new coarse season was upon me & Marie had taken the camper to Download festival... so I would be back to slumming it in the bivvy. Once most of my stuff was accumulated in a big pile in the middle of the kitchen I still wasn't certain that I knew where I was going to see in midnight. A quick text to John revealed that he was fishing the pads, so I thought I'd be sociable and see how this stretch, that I didn't fish once last year, was looking.<br />
Its wasn't far off 8pm by the time I arrived, bringing the tally of blokes fishing the stretch to 5. I set up in the woods, putting a few handfuls of pellets in and getting the rods ready for the off, before popping to the opposite end of the stretch for a natter with John. Once I'd polished off a couple of IPA's, not long before it properly got dark, I returned to the bivvie to get out of the strong gusting wind and have a bite to eat...<br />
Next thing I knew it was 12:20am, I'd only got comfy and dozed off for a hour or more, missing the starting gun, not that I was that bothered. This evening the actual fishing played second fiddle to the joy of just being back on the riverside again. Now well rested I sat and watched the rods for a few hours, it was still windy and none too warm, but the stars sparkling between the patchy cloud suggested a pleasant morning would follow as I huddled in my duckdown coat and heated a tinned chicken curry up on the petrol stove.<br />
Dawn arrived and the wind had dropped to a pleasant breeze which rippled the water, tinged with just a little colour from Fridays rain. I could see a big shoal of bleak in mid river, feeding off one of the numerous hatches that the morning brought but there was no indication of anything bigger in residence. Later, with my fourth cuppa of the day in hand I wound in the rods and took a steady walk up the stretch, finding out if anyone else had a more eventful night. They hadn't, no bites to anyone other than John, who had managed a bream as the reward for his efforts.<br />
Slowly I packed away and returned home for lunch. Doing some odd jobs before preparing for my second fishing trip of the day... I had decided that I would fish sundown at the weir, aiming for an early season Barb to kick things off. It was 7:15 pm by the time I arrived, once more the winter floods had re contoured my favourite peg, making it a bit more comfortable, but seemingly shallower than in previous years. I had decided to stick to one bait, Spicy Shrimp & Prawn, but to fish single boilies on one rod and doubles on the other.<br />
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The rods registered a few dropbacks through the evening, possibly fish but more likely due to the strong and turbulent flow, after sundown however the upstream rod jabbed unmistakably in the twilight & I lifted into a powerful fish. The fight was strong and steady, not charging off anywhere but refusing to yield either. I was pretty confident that it was a decent barbel, a suspicion confirmed once I got a look at it. I could probably have bullied it in quicker, however I had already decided to call it a night once the fish was landed so I was in no hurry and let the fish come to me in its own good time. Maybe my mental scales calibration is out, but I fancied it for a double particularly as it had a substantial girth. The scales on the other hand said substantially otherwise, not quite giving me 9lb as the measure of the beast. Still happy though as the season isn't even a day old yet...<br />
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<br />trentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-91627478695244010422013-03-02T23:59:00.000+00:002013-06-12T22:45:07.092+01:00A long walk for minnowsThe river had been up and down... mostly up, and conditions weren't really right for anything other than barbel, that and the coldest winter we've had for a while kept me indoors for pretty much all of the winter. As the last days approached I headed out with a couple of pints of maggots and the trotting gear... Initially to find out if there were any decent roach along the ferry field. I spent 20 or so minutes trotting through each peg, working downstream. There are some nice runs, and some big eddys which made for interesting trotting. I was halfway up the section before i had my only bite... The float buried and i was connected to a fish significantly bigger than any roach. The size 16 stayed in for only 15 seconds or so, long enough for a flash of a brassy flank to leave me guessing at a decent chub after the rod pinged back and the fish was off.<br />
With no further bites from the remaining pegs I hopped back into the car and headed over to Fairham Brook. I roamed a couple of miles upstream of Ruddington, running the float through every likely looking run, of which there are few. The poor light didn't help with fish spotting and, eventually the float dithered and after a series dithers that failed to connect my suspicions of minnow were confirmed by hooking a couple. I soon moved on, pushing well up into the fields on the edge of town but there is little cover here, and the clear shallow water would be far from inviting for daytime feeding.<br />
My overdue return to the water was far from eventful.trentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-5700629387687540722012-12-31T23:59:00.000+00:002013-06-12T23:14:00.093+01:002012 in a single postDoesn't time fly...<br />
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and in't it easy to let
a blog slip... mind you, its not like I've been too busy fishing to
write about it. In fact I've fished less this year then practically
any other year this century, about half a dozen times if my reckoning
is right. But as the year draws to a close it seems like I should
document my adventures, if for no other reason than to explain the
gap in the record when I look back at my tribulations in years to
come.</div>
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So the year started
badly... My dads cancer had returned, this time with no prospect of
treatment, so fishing took a back seat as we ferried back and forth
across the Midlands at weekends to see him as much as possible. His
season drew to a sudden close on March 18<sup>th. </sup>... 69 is no
age these days, and though the speed of his demise took us by
somewhat by surprise, He was at least very well cared for by the St
Michaels hospice, and after all, once your time is definitely up
there is little to be gained by hanging around.</div>
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He was never an angler,
my dad, He didn't even like the smell of fish...though he did his
best to support my fishy interests during my formative years. I
recall a trip in the caravan to somewhere in North Wales when I was
about 11, dad had taken the two “rods” that I played with in the
garden to Hattons tackle shop in Hereford to get some replacement
eyes whipped on, and that weekend, despite the limitations of the
centrepin reel (yes even though it was 1986 I started with a 'pin)
the remnants of his childhood knowledge showed me how a well timed
strike would turn a nodding rod tip into a silvery wriggling
gudgeon... From that point on I was entirely self taught, but
logistically supported... There were the trips to “The Southern
Leisure Centre” near Chichester with a memorable eel from the
gravel pits qualifying as my first “Proper” fish and a pouting
caught from Bognor pier my first sea capture. There ware lifts and
ticket money to fish the pool at “the Royal Oak” for its stunted
micro carp and even the day that we bobbed around on the vast
expanse of Llangorse lake failing to catch a thing. I don't actually
ever remember him complaining about doing any of this for us...
though he must have done... he was nicknamed “whinger”.... Anyway
dad, if somehow you are reading this thanks... for everything.</div>
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31 March 2012 – River
Dore</div>
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So as March became
April, the day after the funeral, Marie and I, along with my brother,
sister in law and niece took ourselves off for a couple of nights
camping in Herefordshire. The site is nestled in the golden valley,
just outside Peterchurch and is bordered by the tiny river Dore. Its
such a small stream that last year it dried up entirely along this
stretch, so I wasn't too optimistic, but I had a small box of flies
and a much too heavy #7 outfit with me, & anyway just having a go
would be enough.</div>
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The river here is
actually one of the Wye and Usk passport waters, the upper section
alongside the site is straightened canalised, swift and shallow, the
lower part retains its natural meandering form, generally shallow
riffles punctuated by the odd deeper pool that might put 2ft of water
over a fishes head. I stalked and watched the water several times
during the first day to get a feel for what might be present. There
was a touch of colour in the water, enough to conceal the depths of
the pools, but the riffles were clear enough. In total I spotted
about 8 fish, none rising & every one of them spooked, regardless
of how carefully I approached the water. They were only small wild
trout, but at least we had a quarry & it was clear that they were
going to be hard to catch.</div>
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The River Dore here
is too small a stream to even need a cast, a little flick or even
just a nymph dabbled beneath the rod top could cover the handful of
spots in which the trout were likely to reside. My Brother and I
leapfrogged our way along the water, one rod could cover it in an
hour or so, so we were tending to linger more than I usually would
when fly fishing. Eventually I got a take on the GRHE nymph dead
drifted along some slightly deeper and quicker water on the outside
of a bend. The little brown trout was brought safely to hand before
being released. My brother remained fishless... which makes a nice
change as he has had a habit of outfishing me in recent years. Of
course, with 4 year old Frankie in tow, he will claim his odds were
diminished, I'm not entirely sure what she made of of her dad &
uncles fluff flinging attempts... though it has to be said, the River
Dore is not exactly a beginners water in any respect, other than you
wouldnt come to any harm if you fell in.</div>
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June 16<sup>th</sup>
2012</div>
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My fishing club had
taken on a new stretch of river this season, and a couple of days had
been spent during the close season helping to get it fishable. On
opening day I took the opportunity to steal a few hours and find out
if this new field was living up to expectations. The river was
chocolate brown, high but dropping. John was settled in and had had
decent barbel and a very big chub as the season kicked off, In the
end I spent most of the time having a natter, with him, Then the pair
of us spent an hour or so with the fishfinder to get a good feel for
the bottom contours.<br />
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<br />
I did fish for a couple of hours as the sun set.
The mosquitoes enjoyed the meal that I had laid on for them, but the
chub and barbel seemed singularly unimpressed with the luncheon meat
offering that I presented, biteless but bitten I returned home before
it got properly dark. Weather, conditions and work never really
aligned in a way that led me to the bank throughout June, and as the
end of July approached I had still not really been out for a proper
fishing session. Even the odd evening that I really had no good
excuse to not be out passed without me taking the opportunity.
Looking back on it now it seems inexplicable, that the urge to fish
which can sometimes manifest as a virtual obsession can just
disappear. I think it was the overdue recognition that June and July
had passed me by and the summer would soon be over that bumped me out
of my lackadasical mindset and I set out for my first proper session
of the season.</div>
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28<sup>th</sup> July –
River Trent</div>
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I dont know if it was
force of habit, checking out a hunch or what, but I actually drove
down to The Pads to begin with. The hay had already been cut, as if I
needed reminding of how many weeks of potential fishy joy I had
already foregone, but the river was still stubbornly well above its
normal summer level. Gazing out over the undulating surface, and
knowing that I was blind to what the lillies and vegetation
underneath were like this year, it seemed obvious I was in the wrong
place. Trundling back up the track it wasn't long before I was
spinning the combination into the padlock of the ferry field and
surprised to find that I had the choice of swims. I had arrived late,
and I had barely enough time to get a bit of bait out, rods up,
rigged and baited and the bivvy sorted before the fading light, and
inevitable mosquito onslaught saw me settled down for the evening.<br />
<br />
Checking the baits after half an hour, then again at about midnight
showed that despite the flow debris wasn't going to mask the bait,
though the fine blanketweed strung out like washing on the line
played havoc by gathering on the tip ring into an inpenetrable mass
that would then need to be picked apart a little at a time before I
could recast. Apart from this it was a pleasant evening, “nice to
be back on the bank” I thought to myself as I caught the occasional
glimpse of stars through the nightime cloud. “now if a decent fish
were to show up that would really be grand”...</div>
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Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee........
that sound from the alarms really only means one thing, I amaze
myself with how quickly I can get out of a bivvy in response to it...
even at 5.45 in the morning. Lifting the rod and slowing the
baitrunner in one action, freespool was disengaged and the fish was
on. Not rushing anything I played it gently on a lightish clutch, but
even so it decided that it wanted to charge around and misbehave once
close to the bank & on a short line... I'd already got a glimpse
of the capture though and I was delighted, not a specimen by any
traditional account...but...</div>
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The 2010 & 2011
seasons were dominated by my attempts to snare a carp from the river,
a task in which I had utterly failed, I guess at least 300 hours were
devoted to this enterprise without so much as a carpy run... so there
I was, on my first carping session of this season, and not even up to
double figures on the hours totaliser and there, in the net, is the
thing I have worked so hard for. John came and joined me for a cuppa
before I packed up, it was good to see him, and he was happy that the
clubs new stretch had finally produced a carp, Though his tongue in
cheek comment as I showed him the pictorial evidence rather summed it
up. “I didn't know they still made them in that size”... a whole 6lb 8oz... brill<br />
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18th & 19 August - River Trent
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for my next session I
moved downriver, joining John on a drizzly friday afternoon I spent most of the afternoon tapping away at finishing off a book chapter I had been working on. The afternoon gave way to a warm and muggy evening, and fancying my chances of picking up a decent eel. I put a bunch of maggots onto a size 12 connected to a quicksilver trace and dropped it just beyond a dropoff to the right hand margin. It was only a few minutes before a steady run resulted in a decent eel of 2lb 4oz. <br />
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this was followed half an hour later by another, this time a few ozs short of the 2lb mark before the 3rd eel, this time about 1 lb twisted itself around the rig to the extent that scissors were needed to extricate it. Content with my slimy haul I switched back to bolt rigged boilies but the alarms were to remain silent until morning, when a bream turned up at 6am to make sure that I could enjoy the dawn with a hot brew...</div>
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Next day was brighter, I spent a couple of hours in the morning on peg improvements, sawing back some overhanging branches which had been troublesome in the dark, Spent an hour or two with a maggot feeder but only managed a single perch.<br />
Johns wife Luce joined us for a Barbie in the evening, great company & great grub watching the dragonflies hunting mozzies in the evening sunshine. Decent fish however remained elusive, and well after dark I turned in for the night pessimistic that anything much was likely to happen...<br />
<br />
at about 3am the rod fished out towards a mid-river went howling off, and I was into a slow moving, but seemingly reasonable fish. My sleepy head resulted in me plunging one trainer clad foot into the muddy depths as i moved onto the old jetty that would more easily facilitate landing the fish, and from this vantage point the light from my headtorch confirmed that the adversary at the end of the line was my second carp of the season. Frustratingly, this fish wallowed around on a short line, stubbornly refusing to let me get its head up, and making some scary dives towards the rocks which were 8ft below the surface. However eventually it succumbed to the landing net. This one at least managed double figures at 10lb 11oz<br />
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That was it for the night, and the next morning. I scraped together a makeshift breakfast for John (which was a poor shadow of the previous evenings grub) and at about 11 am we went our seperate ways, In my case, a quick nip home to drop the heavy gear off and pick up a fly rod for a quick roam of the Erewash<br />
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<u>19 July PM River Erewash - Toton</u><br />
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I had popped down here with some bushy flies hoping that I'd be able to stalk a chub, Unfortunately that wasn't to be. It was one of those hot sunny days and the few chub I saw were very skittish and wary. The perch on the other hand were most obliging, and I took about half a dozen, with a black woolly worm being the fly that did the business. Eventually I found a chub... all 3oz of it.<br />
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<u>23rd Aug - River Trent</u><br />
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I got back on the river the following weekend, spending a couple of hours trotting maggots through a shoal of roach and bleak It was nearly a fish a chuck, with one small silver bream a surprise capture to break the pattern. I had a joey mackerel paternostered a foot off the bottom at the upstream end of the swim to see if the bits were escorted by any decent predators, but that bait stayed untouched.<br />
I had euthanased a couple of bleak which were bleeding when unhooked, and as the sun dropped below the horizon I prepped them by removing the head and tail, cutting a strip of skin off one side and stabbing the other several times. The rig was simple, just a size 2 single hook to 30lb quicksilver as the trace and a free running 1oz bomb. This was dropped into the margin, the rod was positioned with the baitrunner on its slackest setting and as darkness fell i got the kettle on...<br />
I was on my last sip of hot chocolate as the alarm made a solitary bleep, I began to stealthily approach the bankside, but only began, as within a second or two later the line began to peel steadily from the reel and i took two quick steps to pick up the rod and strike. I had a feeling it was a zander rather than a pike, and as it broke the surface in the deep twilight the suspicion grew. After a pretty spirited fight the idea was confirmed, as there in the net was my biggest zander. Not a monster at 8lb 4oz but a respectable fish nevertheless.<br />
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After that success I split the rods, fishing a legered mackerel on one and boilie on the other. I didn't get a peep out of the alarms all night, though oddly the prawn boilie and hook were both gone when I reeled in to check the baits at 3AM...<br />
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1st Sept - River Trent.<br />
I left it a bit late before heading out on Saturday evening, the light was fading fast, the first evening of the year that made me realise that autumn was basically here. I was left with only half an hour of fading light to pick up some deadbaits and failed miserably, watching until the tip of the float was more imagination than reality in the gloaming. Instead of the predator session i had planned I therefore turned my attention to carbelling, tackling up in the light of the headtorch before retiring to the camper. Not only did I see no action that night, but in the morning as I tried to depart the van refused to start. One of those days I guess. If you had told me on that morning that that would be my last session of the year I'd have never believed it, yet.. as things turned out it was...</div>
trentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-42828226727443819802012-01-02T23:59:00.000+00:002012-04-28T11:56:54.686+01:00A Fairham FirstI cross Fairham brook, the tiny stream that skirts Clifton estate every day on my way to work. I dont think there are many fish in it, and I'd be even more surprised to catch anything of any size, but as I'd never yet wet a line here I decided to go for a roam and see what I could find. I'd done a recce with the polaroids back in the spring and found a small group of chub along with plenty of minnows but overall less fish than I was expecting. On this occasion the water was fairly clear, yet I saw no sign of any aquatic life for the first couple of miles. Trotting through the slightly deeper water brought no bites and it was well into the afternoon before a movement in the stream caught my eye and I realised I had found some fish.<br />
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this 10 yd stretch held a mixed shoal of chublets & dace along with a few roach. As the light was fading fast I moved on after a dozen of so, with a last chance saloon trot on a deeper bend a short way upstream. this yielded another baby chub. Another box ticked at least, taking fish from yet another of the River Trents tributaries, still plenty of virgin water to go at later in the year tootrentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com0Fairham Brook - Clifton52.895752219901247 -1.170558929443359452.886173219901245 -1.1902999294433594 52.90533121990125 -1.1508179294433594tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-13496672260821820782011-12-28T23:59:00.001+00:002012-01-05T23:47:56.614+00:00Soar swansongAfter ten days of mojitos in the sun in Cuba I was itching to get back on the river bank, I was still looking for some decent roach, and havn't fished for pike yet this winter so I thought that I would combine the two activities in a brief session that would probably prove to be my last of the year. I had spotted a pike swirl though the slack near the dace swim of a few weeks ago , and though that it might still have something to offer.<br />
Pulling up near Ratcliffe church a couple of cars hinted that I wouldn't have the stretch to myself, though as I neared the stile the sight of two pikers ambling towards me on their way home would confirm my solitude. A brief conversation revealed that they had seen a single pike but caught nothing.<br />
Bites were slow coming at first, a single minnow was the sole reward for the first five minutes, though as I progressively increased the depth I began picking up more takes, chub at first, all quite small, before a tiny roach of less than an inch found the hook (with its belly), and was then followed by a bleak.<br />
I took this as my cue to give the pike rod a go, mounting the bleak on a wire trace with a single size 1 hook on a 2 oz paternoster and fished at the tail end of the swim. Back on the flot rod I continued to catch the occasional chub. Maggots seemed to be the only bait working, casters and bread failed miserably and even with the maggots bites would dry up from time to time, sometimes a change of depth might yield another, and after a lean few minutes a switch to laying on hard on the bottom produced a succession of gudgeon.<br />
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The pike rod remained untouched throughout, and a switch of swims as the light faded would produce no further fish. with my freezing toes burning their way through my waders I wandered back to the car and scooted back to the warmth of a centrally heated house - a few hours in the cold is just the thing to make you appreciate creature comforts...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--QDZv36vyeE/TwY0kwrAERI/AAAAAAAAAOA/m9JKLCqsIOk/s1600/DSC03589.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="412" rea="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--QDZv36vyeE/TwY0kwrAERI/AAAAAAAAAOA/m9JKLCqsIOk/s640/DSC03589.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>trentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com1River Soar, Ratcliffe52.856613699139032 -1.265603444458065552.844411199139032 -1.2866139444580655 52.868816199139033 -1.2445929444580655tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-14252233097939570962011-12-03T23:59:00.000+00:002012-01-05T23:59:32.737+00:00Lugg GraylingTrekked back to Herefordshire this weekend, I still had 10 or so Wye and Usk passport vouchers, and the office had said that I could send them back for credit to fish one of the booking office beats. I had invited Phill to join me, our first outing together since the grayling trip back in Feb. With the days so short a long journey seemed like a poor choice, and Phill had heard that the Lugg was in the best form it had been in all season. We therefore plumped for The Bodenham beat, two stretches of the river Lugg in the shadow of Dinmore hill.<br />
The day was bright and fresh, with a bit of wind which made it feel a few degrees cooler. There had been some rain during the week, but it had barely changed the level of the Lugg. We started off at the downstream end and worked our way up, leapfrogging as we tried out any likely looking swim. Phill was fishing with maggot feeder and I was trotting maggots or breadflake, generally giving each swim a couple of trots with each bait before moving on. The lower section of the beat is quite a nice water, with variable depth and some good bankside cover, though access isn't that easy and in places I spent as much time untangling the termial tackle from the shrubbery as I did dangling maggots. At one stage, I was using the landing net to coax the float down from the branch it had tangled on, and which was frustratingly beyond the reach of an outstretched hand and tiptoes, Phill leapfrogged past... "If you like... after you've got that down, drop by my peg and I'll show you a thing or two about how to avoid getting tangled in trees!..."<br />
We worked our way upstream without any sign of fish, eveutually reaching the top peg, where a fallen tree pushed the current over to the far side, creating a large back eddy. I liked the look of this spot, in particular a point about 8ft out where the float would sit virtually static, and fancied that the float had dithered a couple of times during the first few minutes. Striking the next imperceptible movement of the float yielded my smallest ever minnow, too tiny to even register on the jewellery scales. It was not fairly hooked though so I cant really count it as a personal worst.<br />
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I fished on, striking into thin air on a more definite bite made me begin to suspect that my minnowy nemesis had tracked me across the country, however, the next time the float dipped the strike was met with more solid resistance and a silver flash three feet under got my pulse racing. "Grayling!" I called out to Phill once I'd got a clear look at the erect dorsal. a minute or two later the fish was in the folds of the net and Phill rattled off a couple of snaps using my phone.<br />
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I had fished the Lugg from time to time during my teenage years but never caught a grayling, yet here I was, on my first trip to the river in over 20 years with a 1lb 3oz lady. To say I was happy is understating it a bit.<br />
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We fished on in this spot until about 2pm before returning to the cars and moving half a mile upstream to the upper section. Access to this section was much more difficult due to the steep banks, and there were comparatively few tempting spots to run a float through. If i'm honest we would have been better off sticking to the lower section. Phill however did a bit better, managing to lose a chub he estimated at about 4lbs which had chased his feeder in before taking the maggot. As the sun set the wind had stopped and it seemed to warm up. I had managed to find the ubiquitous shoal of minnows, Finally Phill came out of the gloaming with a big grin on his face, "caught something then..." I questioned "...if theres no photo it doesn't count"... "Oh i've got a photo alright" he said getting out his phone, getting more interested I turned away from my float to vew the capture...<br />
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a minnow, still if he hadnt brough me a pic I'd have insisted forever that he blanked!trentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com0River Lugg - Bodenham52.152973965222053 -2.686832248657196952.124377465222054 -2.739257748657197 52.181570465222052 -2.6344067486571969tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-71276821129819318982011-11-30T23:46:00.001+00:002011-11-30T23:50:03.396+00:00The striking fishermanWell, today was the day of the big strike.... I had a last minute change of heart yeasterday afternoon and decided reluctantly that my students would have to take the hit, and that I would not disrespect my striking colleagues by crossing the picket line. They are of course right... the government has got this one wrong...the public sector have already renegotiated pension benefits downwards, and whichever way you look at it the cost of public sector pensions as a percentage of GDP will be much lower in future than it is today, so upping contributions ( by over £100 per month in my case) while reducing benefits is simply a goverment heist that they think they can get away with.<br />
Anyway this left me with a choice, join the demo or take the opportunity to go fishing. if i went to the demo I just get even more wound up about the injustice of it all, so I decided that relaxing by the river would be best for my general health & wellbeing<br />
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Beeping encouragement to the Environment Agency picket at Lady Bay on my way to Matchman Supplies for a pint of maggots, I was soon south of Nottingham and pulled into the carpark near Kegworth top lock at around 1pm.<br />
The long walk to the weir was rewarded by... minnows... once more hundreds of them. Standing knee deep in perfect trotting water the float could only travel a few metres before dipping, as yet another minnow ragged the maggots. I persevered, feeding regularly in the hope that something bigger would push the minnows out, but after 20 mins , and at least 50 minnows, admitted defeat and moved downstream, fishing the slack water alongside the near bank of the island. I took a handful of perch from the first peg, nothing large but still feisty.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Moving downstream the next peg had a shoal of baby chub in residence, I took half a dozen of these before things quietened down, and after ten biteless minutes I moved downstream again.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx2sq7awGLxqONLiq2gKTUoVcEUgS41sBry2zDhAwAoU0Vw2H_i9xtyyvj1z4NpVgLdPUbk-vkoUbbTLlo_t0qDV1MgfpL6fBTOQL74IH2100semaWS25IoyOIW2IdulSNGLk52VrdaD8/s1600/DSC02990.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" dda="true" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx2sq7awGLxqONLiq2gKTUoVcEUgS41sBry2zDhAwAoU0Vw2H_i9xtyyvj1z4NpVgLdPUbk-vkoUbbTLlo_t0qDV1MgfpL6fBTOQL74IH2100semaWS25IoyOIW2IdulSNGLk52VrdaD8/s400/DSC02990.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Next up were a couple of roach, just as I was thinking how segmented all the species were, the pattern broke down, as this swim produced a few small chub, another couple of perch and some minnows. I found a few more bits from the remaining swims on the island before crossing deep lock and working my way downstream towards the car park. I caught nothing for the rest of the afternoon, I had a couple of tentative bites about halfway down the section and what I'm fairly certain was a bullhead dropped off as lifted out. It was a reversal of Sundays experience, whereas all the fish were concentrated at the bottom of the section there, here they were concentrated at the top.</div>trentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com0River Soar,Kegworth52.836436002666524 -1.269986353906233552.818311002666526 -1.2990848539062334 52.854561002666522 -1.2408878539062336tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-28016633444204474562011-11-27T23:59:00.004+00:002012-01-06T10:12:20.645+00:00The place for daceA change of river again today, as I headed down the A453 to Ratcliffe on Soar. After parking up by the church I hopped overthe stile and headed upstream towards the weir. I realised upon reaching the Deeps that without the far bank tree cover I would be fishing into a fierce headwind... not conducive to happy trotting. Retreating back to the weir I began running the float though, but after 10 minutes hadn't had a bite so began to work my way downstream. In the next peg I began to pick up the minnows which have plagued my trotting for the last month. The first minnow casualty became a hookbait, and for the rest of the session I alternated trotted maggot with trotted dead minnow in every swim. two hours later I had reached the bottom of the section , the minnow was still untouched and I'd got nothing bigger to show for my efforts.<br />
Finally, in the last peg, fishing a patch of dead water below an overhanging tree the float dipped and a small perch was brought to my hand, this was followed by another and another, then a roach...<br />
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There was a large mixed shoal packed in into this slack and I was picking up small chub, perch or roach every minute or so. Every one gave a good account of itself as I had to steer them out into the fast riffle and move them upstream to avoid the branches of the tree.<br />
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After a while I tried running the chubber down the far edge of the slack, just running down the crease with the swift main flow and holding back gently. About 10 yards downstream of the tree, and on the first run through, the float dipped, and a succession of dace followed, all taken from the same line, and fighting extremely hard for their size as I brough the upstream against the swift flow. It has taken me a month to find them, and as the sun set and I released the final silvery bar back into the river I spoke my thoughts out loud... "What a great way to end the day..."<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVdt0GEFT9sBoGkJOJAQnPaylO4bsc0VyppuUQRcyWYKIPIIwgmbeNrA_p8Ah7XTMbiR28dkr9g6Zyqyl4mVwJ3GLt9MTcSfVOypckaVb0B9LyN4KZypmjc-YJ2xcVgFL7wdK0GWXznKg/s1600/DSC02978.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" dda="true" height="470" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVdt0GEFT9sBoGkJOJAQnPaylO4bsc0VyppuUQRcyWYKIPIIwgmbeNrA_p8Ah7XTMbiR28dkr9g6Zyqyl4mVwJ3GLt9MTcSfVOypckaVb0B9LyN4KZypmjc-YJ2xcVgFL7wdK0GWXznKg/s640/DSC02978.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>trentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com0River soar, Ratcliffe on Soar52.853830988095744 -1.270550783691419452.841628488095743 -1.2915612836914194 52.866033488095745 -1.2495402836914193tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-31656193969297758352011-11-20T23:59:00.001+00:002011-11-30T21:19:38.588+00:00Petite PopeI 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.<br />
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!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjczKDF2ndKopH8YaDiaM7tOy6Xp8eAiB52mDdYx99c2nQObQ3Jhv3DpFXDD3FcEWhE5qG_fOQrZM_xMD64GMH5r__du-5GdlYe47eZKRnU2vdIl3i7PKUAOXxLlI4Ty9cyqSYJcNxQJow/s1600/ruffe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" dda="true" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjczKDF2ndKopH8YaDiaM7tOy6Xp8eAiB52mDdYx99c2nQObQ3Jhv3DpFXDD3FcEWhE5qG_fOQrZM_xMD64GMH5r__du-5GdlYe47eZKRnU2vdIl3i7PKUAOXxLlI4Ty9cyqSYJcNxQJow/s320/ruffe.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>trentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com0River Trent, Beeston52.911954299305727 -1.204003893054164152.881573799305727 -1.254628893054164 52.942334799305726 -1.1533788930541642tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-89605263458689263912011-11-13T23:59:00.000+00:002011-11-30T20:10:41.088+00:00Sturdy SticklebackI returned to the Erewash, this time fishing the stretch from Stanton bridge downstream towards Sandiacre. There is a great looking pool just below the bridge, with my cut down waders I could paddle the shallows and run a float down tight to the far bank, along a great trot to overhanging bushes. Great looking, shame thats once more minnows were the only prize. It was the same story in almost every swim, every now and again a small perch or baby chub would break the minnowy monotony, but more often than not the float would dip withing a second or two of hitting the water, and another minnow would be swung to hand, ready to be shaken free of the size 16 barbless hook. I weighed a few to calibrate my estimates, generally smaller than further upstream, they averaged about 9g, with the best minnow weighing in at 12.6g<br />
I also caught more sticklebacks, including a hefty 3.5g specimen<br />
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</div><div align="left">as I reached the railway bridge at the bottom end of the section a guy on the opposite bank called across to say he'd spotted a "huge" barbel beneath the far bank cover. I wasnt really tackled up to land one, but I made a few casts while he watched, just to be polite really. Once more darkness halted my progress after two and a half hours of maggot drowning. But a personal best (weighed) stickleback seemed like an appropriate reward for surviving the minnow onslaught...</div>trentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com0River Erewash, Stapleford52.932114184441183 -1.279673308398400952.91874468444118 -1.3023748083984008 52.945483684441186 -1.2569718083984009tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-6479809559971411962011-11-12T23:59:00.001+00:002011-11-30T19:45:51.593+00:00Big minnows, little chub and tiny sticklebacksReturned to the Erewash, this time fishing upstream of the M1 towards Trowell. After my abysmal failure using bread last week I had decided to switch to maggots, a change that the minnows seemed to relish. There seem to be two kinds of swim along this section, either full of nothing or full of minnows.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg124UyukhAioBZFHwE1PYZjjq36iJb94xlkxYl9rm7inYBds6dfcR-tQQp9tLLrSjerrmwIdnvV9dr3WD7xsjwU0JSMDGEHR9bCpYkpQekcBR6PL-SI6k1Uakzbt4ZVuxTodZYJkeMf3U/s1600/minnow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" dda="true" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg124UyukhAioBZFHwE1PYZjjq36iJb94xlkxYl9rm7inYBds6dfcR-tQQp9tLLrSjerrmwIdnvV9dr3WD7xsjwU0JSMDGEHR9bCpYkpQekcBR6PL-SI6k1Uakzbt4ZVuxTodZYJkeMf3U/s640/minnow.jpg" width="640" /></a></div> in a minnowy swim it is possible to catch several a minute, enough to drive anybody nuts. I persevevered in minnowless swims longer than perhaps I should, it only paid off once with a baby chub the reward for my efforts. I also caught four sticklebacks, three of which were tiny young of the year and just hanging onto the maggot rather than hooked.<br />
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The average size of the minnows was good, certainly doubles (over 10g) and I rued forgetting my micro scales. After a couple of hours roaming I was back on the outskirts of Stapleford, still catching minnows until the gloom concealed the float from view...trentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com0River Erewash, Trowell52.946282488863055 -1.281883026983678152.932383488863053 -1.307757026983678 52.960181488863057 -1.2560090269836781tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-73567289851028412792011-11-06T23:59:00.001+00:002011-11-22T00:20:48.441+00:00Struggling at Staplefordtried breadflake on the 'wash again. This time failing to hook anything - I was out looking for grayling but found none.The bread was regularly cleared from the hook by minnows. There seemed to be nothing larger aroundtrentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-73391644208997869472011-10-30T23:59:00.014+00:002011-11-22T00:06:33.529+00:00Trotting at TotonIt was a sunny afternoon which seemed too good to waste, with only a few hours of light remaining of these short autumnal evenings I decided to head to the Erewash. Half a loaf of bread was retrieved from the freezer and I grabbed a float rod and centrepin loaded with 4lb line. Cutdown waders and small folding net were flung into the boot of the car and I was soon heading across Nottingham.<br />
Dropping into the peg nearest the car park, I dabbled a piece of flake beneath a small loafer under the rod tip, testing out the slack water to either side of the flow for a few minutes, before allowing it into the stream and allowing it to trot slowly through, holding back fairly hard by allowing my thumb to drag the drum of the pin. The water was carrying a bit of colour and I could see no sign of any fish, however towards the end of the first trot through the float buried and the first chub of the day was heading for the tree roots which line this stretch of river.<br />
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It is uncommon in my experiece to take two chub out of the same swim around here, the commotion puts the fish down for a good while, and today was no different, half an hour later I was regretting not moving sooner & moved towards the top of the section, getting pestered by minnows for 10 mins in one peg before working my way downstream, getting lots of bites but hitting none of them, probably minnows too small to hook up on the size 14 hook.<br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Eventually a kamakaze minnow managed to chomp the hook well down, and with some blood showing from the gills decided that it was a euthanasia case - I therefore tapped it on the head before extracting the hook, and then hooked the dead fish just behind the dorsal and trotted it through below some overhanding trees. once more the float buried and another chub, smaller this time, was brought to hand.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVh5GmqVkRoQyqkqfpOfH_9UPeV_kLZITcA7-6U49fQb1-aDRM8ZSkI5XC-gg4jHMWhyXw3K2GE5OzMxHxTgkkI1bKNTTC9R67bXUaSqz27J1VinP8ZtIeD5N_srRddkZf77MzXH6TLm8/s1600/DSC02885.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="361" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVh5GmqVkRoQyqkqfpOfH_9UPeV_kLZITcA7-6U49fQb1-aDRM8ZSkI5XC-gg4jHMWhyXw3K2GE5OzMxHxTgkkI1bKNTTC9R67bXUaSqz27J1VinP8ZtIeD5N_srRddkZf77MzXH6TLm8/s640/DSC02885.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Satisfied with this result a moved further downstream, typically giving each swim two runs through before moving on. the sun was down by the time a third fish succombed, once more from slack water below overhanging trees. The fish managed to get the line around some submerged twigs as I was slow in burying the rod tip beneath the surface, fortunately I got lucky this time, and the downward pressure fromt he rod and the fish combined to ping the line free and the fish was soon landed. I worked my way back to the first swim eaking out the last of the fading light, but there would be no more bites. All in all a pleasant and relaxing 3 hours of fishing.</div>y<br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-37QNv4O3crso93qcK3r3qpx-5IS2fDrpv57dgVdI8QzTDM5WhNYVcaIIEOB52l_ebJBJ4rmxI-aUq1LLdKqJeA5TFrAtRNNJQUngT8RZtLyuvo5RN2HGWfeAglbAicXraZWiH7UZnSU/s1600/DSC02887.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-37QNv4O3crso93qcK3r3qpx-5IS2fDrpv57dgVdI8QzTDM5WhNYVcaIIEOB52l_ebJBJ4rmxI-aUq1LLdKqJeA5TFrAtRNNJQUngT8RZtLyuvo5RN2HGWfeAglbAicXraZWiH7UZnSU/s320/DSC02887.JPG" width="218" /></a></div>trentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com0River Erewash, Toton52.905007218103805 -1.264698902685495352.874626718103805 -1.3153239026854953 52.935387718103804 -1.2140739026854954tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-17700329813864768522011-10-22T23:59:00.000+01:002011-11-30T09:54:26.119+00:00Just cant keep away from the dead horseThere is something about the peg with the plank, appropriately nicknamed "dead horse" by me earlier in the season that keeps pulling me back. Considering that, as far as I know, not a single fish has been caught from it this season there is no rational explanation for me to keep trying it. Now that the lillies have gone and the weed died back it's not even particularly eye catching.<br />
Knowing that the bottom would be littered with dead and dying plant matter, and working on the basis that this peg would remain fishable if the river suddenly rose I decided to try baiting it for a week. I had formed the opinion that the carp have become preoccupied with the millions of snails which have rampantly multiplied within this years prolific weed growth. I was hoping that this feast may now be beginning to run out, and that providing an alternative could yield results.<br />
From Sunday to Friday I baited with a mixture of corn and peanuts, about 3/4 of a bucket each day. fished it for about 18 hours from saturday afternoon until sunday morning. apart from a few line bites courtesy of the bloody swans there was no sign of action. The guys who fished the woods on thursday & friday night also blanked. It seems that no-one has really caught much of note on this part of the river all year. Dreadful!trentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-59486889002035965392011-10-17T23:59:00.000+01:002011-11-30T10:28:56.493+00:00Wet & windy at the weirpoolI popped down to the weir after work, fished from about 19:00 till 21:30 conditions were awful, heavy rain and 40 mph gusts - thankfully I could sit it out in the car, tapping away on my netbook thrashing out a paper for a forthcoming conference. Browsing the internet on my phone I just double checked that the BBC forecast said 10mph winds and light showers... with the car rocking and the trees bent double as the rain hammered into the side of the car I though the least they could do would be to update the website once it was clear that they had got it completely wrong! The alarms remained silent and I got soaked and wind battered tackling down once I finally called it a night. I'm getting used to this blanking lark!trentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com0River Trent, Beeston Weir, Clifton52.911307301064504 -1.20627840629879352.817210801064505 -1.3337934062987931 53.0054038010645 -1.078763406298793tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-35622987462937474792011-10-15T23:59:00.002+01:002011-11-30T10:52:58.042+00:00A night on the willowsSince I cant find the carp anywhere else, I decided to have a stab at a stretch called the willows, upstream of Beeston weir. This section has only been lightly fished for the last decade or so, and the club cut back the pegs at the start of the season, so I thought I'd give it a go. John had sorted me out with a sack of maize, so I had spent most of the preceeding week preparing batch after batch before slinging into the dark and murky depths. It is generally known that there are a few carp around the boats, I was keeping my fingers crossed that they would cross over the 100yds or so to my side for a regular meal.<br />
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As afternoon became evening I picked up a large chub on a 20mm boilie fished midriver with a bag of pellets. On its way in it managed to get its head into two deep weedbeds and, though I could steer it easily between the buoys I decided that a tussle with an angry carp might be tricky proposition from this peg. once in the net the big chevin looked like a monster, It was broad across the shoulders and I reckoned it had to be a five. The scales disagreed though, granting me a satisfying, yet disappointing 4lb 13oz.<br />
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after the sun set I was subjected to the joys of Beeston Marina's Riverside Bar disco, with Boney M echoing across the river I dont know whether the fish were boogieing on their own silty dance floor or in a corner throwing up. One thing was clear, they weren't up for snacking.<br />
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the night was cold cold cold... at first light I was up and pacing to try and get some warmth back into my bones, there was ice on the unhooking mat, probably the first sub zero night of the year. The orange glow of the rising sun heralded yet another carpless session, though the misty river valley looked spectacular, even the steel of the hydropower station had an agreeable industrial aesthetic in the autumn dawn. I stayed into the afternoon, suprised that even the bream were failing to show, before hauling my way back home. The chances of getting a river carp this year are diminishing by the daytrentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-60915898913614699162011-10-08T23:59:00.000+01:002011-11-29T23:39:39.892+00:00Another bloody blankJoined John for 24 hours, filling in for Pete who was at a wedding. As ever the company was fine, but the fish are absolutely failing to play ball. It rained, only light, for the first few hours, then I spent the whole time watching a territorial swan chase off a game of about twenty, probably juvenile, others. The charade was repeated at hourly intervals, often moving the leads as they swam over the lines. Occasionally the pursuit would become airborne, and on one occasion I was lucky to lose only the terminal tackle, as an aerialised swan ran/flew through the line, dragging the rod off the rest and almost to the water. That was the closest I got to a run. Took the opportunity to go over my tactics, methods, rigs etc with John to see if there is any explanation for the lack of success. The only one he could come up with was extremely bad luck - in my opinion its reached the stage of ridiculously bad luck!trentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-86016039468682876952011-09-24T22:59:00.000+01:002011-11-30T09:28:23.357+00:00blank at the woodstried another night fishing boilies over a bed of particles under about 13ft of water. total blanktrentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com0River Trent - Clifton52.906674511327665 -1.213488184130824352.812578011327666 -1.3410031841308243 53.000771011327664 -1.0859731841308242tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-34347319018877399822011-09-03T23:59:00.001+01:002011-11-29T22:51:29.435+00:00Another bloody breamAt Johns invitation I had a night in the peg which had produced a couple of carp for him a few weeks ago. It had been regularly baited for a month or so, though as he had moved on it hadn't been fed for a week. A large fish crashing out at dusk about 50 yds upstream gave cause for some optimism, however, following the script of an all too familiar story the night would pass without a blip from the alarms.<br />
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By way of consolation another bream joined me for breakfast, though as you can see from the state of the mat, the weed, and in particular the duckweed have reached a state which can only be described as obscene. the sooner the autumn rains arrive to give it a thorough flush through the better!trentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-79331620719712191942011-09-02T23:59:00.002+01:002011-11-30T08:44:27.907+00:00Sweaty slog for a solitary slimerFresh from a rod free holiday in Menorca I grabbed the first chance I got to try and track down the wiley Trent carp which had so far eluded me. The change of month made me increasingly aware that time was running out - and as nothing I had so far tried had worked I returned to the peg that my brother had suceeded in a year earlier. It was a 15 min walk with 10kg of groundbait doing its best to yank my arm out of its socket, and with sweat pouring down my face I was regretting the decision to wear, rather than carry my duckdown coat to the peg. Using the baiting scoop I propelled a dozen or so balls of groundbait into the middle of the river, and fished two rods either side of the baited area. Just one bite resulted in one disappointing bream, taking the hair rigged spicy prawn boilie at 21:50. <br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I was joined for a while by a guy who had been baiting up a peg on the pits. he told me that a few carp have been caught from this side of the river this year, but nothing like as many as usual, and from pegs much further upstream. Once he had departed, and with no sign of any more fish I decided not to put any more bait in, and instead turned my attention to finding micro species in the margins. Spotted a few sticklebacks, some stone loaches, small bullheads and perhaps most interesting, baby gudgeon. At least I think they were baby gudgeon, the juvenile markings are quite different from an adult. It was interesting to note that the baby gudgeon and stone loach would shoal together, though generally out of range of my camera.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp3oCbFwcrSDxUbiuFTkfvsMvHGsgp5j3TgQA5r6UeNLsVD52NvJFs8Rl9yPyp4flN5h8oVObdzRc0_pmVOX5NcihDf4xK7YzE2ryxJJhkhD3BRPTXej94pI72fePvqYboO7EHgiyPZd8/s1600/DSC02800.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dda="true" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp3oCbFwcrSDxUbiuFTkfvsMvHGsgp5j3TgQA5r6UeNLsVD52NvJFs8Rl9yPyp4flN5h8oVObdzRc0_pmVOX5NcihDf4xK7YzE2ryxJJhkhD3BRPTXej94pI72fePvqYboO7EHgiyPZd8/s400/DSC02800.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">baby gudgeon</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOqizZ8MAh286zNqPaUCLgcOkjYme5eKztRpoiz10kSGna9xHx0-ScPTokRNnPcP6G0eJClSqkF1RSrN9D3on14tEJqOvEVHGRM50MjQpk4eZBmlNqfF43_fcnKVfbH8FpnielWukXqFU/s1600/DSC02811.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dda="true" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOqizZ8MAh286zNqPaUCLgcOkjYme5eKztRpoiz10kSGna9xHx0-ScPTokRNnPcP6G0eJClSqkF1RSrN9D3on14tEJqOvEVHGRM50MjQpk4eZBmlNqfF43_fcnKVfbH8FpnielWukXqFU/s400/DSC02811.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">stone loach</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif2i6DVnobwCONAA_arTVensP3wOcgqATwfjXOMCQhxchn0kkry6b4PFsKzfmwxAovH7_ufacKANghGFptzgXElhHe71fEAN0VcefyIUB_VEdfMwLxRIw8zRNh7PwA7EAJKOPv9KgAqjM/s1600/DSC02823.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" dda="true" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif2i6DVnobwCONAA_arTVensP3wOcgqATwfjXOMCQhxchn0kkry6b4PFsKzfmwxAovH7_ufacKANghGFptzgXElhHe71fEAN0VcefyIUB_VEdfMwLxRIw8zRNh7PwA7EAJKOPv9KgAqjM/s320/DSC02823.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>trentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com0River Trent, Beeston52.906700394210866 -1.214432321704066552.876319894210866 -1.2650573217040664 52.937080894210865 -1.1638073217040665tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-33823751239210753592011-08-17T23:59:00.000+01:002011-09-12T13:19:53.833+01:00Barbel for me, perch for WanyeWanye fancied another crack at the weirpool, I'd hoped that we'd get into our first choice swim this time, there were a couple of anglers fishing the weir itself, and another couple on the Beeston side. but the spot I wanted was free. Wayne was having no takers on floatfished maggots, so after an hour or so switched to a maggot feeder, further out at 30 yds or so.<br />
I was fishing with boilies and bags again, casting to a new spot every hour or so to search out the pool. As the flow form the hydro plant released the upstream lead began to struggle to hold botttom and bounced back a few times, resettling with an increasing bow in the line, I lifted the rod and gently tightened... then felt a tap as a fish took the bait, I instinctively struck and picked up a fish which hooped the rod over, before the clutch gave a few yards and and the tussle was on.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdTIhcY1J537lLPi312F-Lfxguop5-DKs7N7TbKWK49vvecFjKNharbE0VYHgHw4AX3IAHOWRUtUd8mNScx1R4X0ZVI802oC_VXqqLsthyphenhyphenWz2hG2VrYSzAusikh9FXAolrzaHDm8_9hcA/s1600/DSC02352.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdTIhcY1J537lLPi312F-Lfxguop5-DKs7N7TbKWK49vvecFjKNharbE0VYHgHw4AX3IAHOWRUtUd8mNScx1R4X0ZVI802oC_VXqqLsthyphenhyphenWz2hG2VrYSzAusikh9FXAolrzaHDm8_9hcA/s640/DSC02352.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>At about 5 or 6 lb the barbel was nice enough, but it was to be the only run i'd get. The chaps at the Wier hooked at least three good fish, and I think landed two. Wanye managed a succession of perch and a nice dace on the feeder. We packed up once it got dark... those long days are now rapidly slipping away.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCWhvF6AxDijtxpuFsyV_U3XEFd8cR7un6ayokJ7ZnBuJmUFtwEnhZIykH-woyGUkqqWSAyT0r9hjTnelV5WLlHFtuXWYNh_DmMpAVGPnlaxLhxOzBTrFL6Pk2dVsXQ_SmWddlrG-Na74/s1600/DSC02356.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCWhvF6AxDijtxpuFsyV_U3XEFd8cR7un6ayokJ7ZnBuJmUFtwEnhZIykH-woyGUkqqWSAyT0r9hjTnelV5WLlHFtuXWYNh_DmMpAVGPnlaxLhxOzBTrFL6Pk2dVsXQ_SmWddlrG-Na74/s320/DSC02356.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>trentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com1Beeston Weir, Clifton52.911428810257462 -1.20605565854646152.817332310257463 -1.3335706585464611 53.005525310257461 -1.078540658546461tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-57733181424668573592011-08-16T23:59:00.001+01:002011-09-12T13:15:24.872+01:00lone breampopped back to the Soar after work today, this time in a different spot below the lock. Spent an hour or two nattering to the Lee the bailif, who is a decent lad and confirmed that the carp are about. I wouldn't see them though, packed up about 22:30, an hour after this single 4lb bream, the only bite of the night.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl8XS3whWa-nuo2o8Fzg7p6RpJyG4BMszOscoYBSh52cmEWKumAx9nqR3a8OL9Hoa8DEl-HdPwGqh4zgd-zpYI7jzWhAxNg0SamexAzdewI-RrSR2Sff636ezDJ8lNXTPQnVBqjUWAcD8/s1600/DSC02346.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl8XS3whWa-nuo2o8Fzg7p6RpJyG4BMszOscoYBSh52cmEWKumAx9nqR3a8OL9Hoa8DEl-HdPwGqh4zgd-zpYI7jzWhAxNg0SamexAzdewI-RrSR2Sff636ezDJ8lNXTPQnVBqjUWAcD8/s320/DSC02346.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>trentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893551339461256623.post-79320177915861235312011-08-12T23:59:00.002+01:002011-09-12T13:36:52.904+01:00Soar thumb!<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjl46nOLRc1hgeQcEgwaQ4CcYo_PmUVWODNaAKIiptSsAM-FM2FW4UqazdeyrxKSmWvfRHfjczoeSaoWUUUF2pizhIFbILg0ZdVLRdVuhhvI-Dbx96sk_5AXx34weTCOYxn8KmOGsj00s/s1600/DSC02242.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjl46nOLRc1hgeQcEgwaQ4CcYo_PmUVWODNaAKIiptSsAM-FM2FW4UqazdeyrxKSmWvfRHfjczoeSaoWUUUF2pizhIFbILg0ZdVLRdVuhhvI-Dbx96sk_5AXx34weTCOYxn8KmOGsj00s/s320/DSC02242.JPG" width="320" /></a>I reckoned I had found a carpy looking bit of the Soar, and with the Trent being so difficult this summer decided to give it a try.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div> This area has seen quite a bit of work to the pegs this year, with steps cut and some swims dug out and levelled. I arrived at about 6pm, fishing using stocking bags and boilies, 2kg of vitalin and crumb groundbait went out at the start , mostly to a spot upstream amd in the middle of the river, a small downstream patch, closer to the margin was also baited with three apple sized balls of bait. this was the spot I was expecting to produce a carp. Things were slow to begin with, there were lots of small fish topping and rolling over the baited area, but no bites. I spotted a large fish slurping at the surface on the opposite bank, so recast to this spot for an hour, before topping up the groundbait by balling in another couple of kg and putting another pva stocking out on the downstream rod.<br />
It was just after 11pm when the downstream rod regestered a pick up, I lifted into a reasonable chub, that was compliant at first, until it reached the reeds at my feet and powered between them. I smiled to myself, as this is actually one of the things I like about night fishing... I tend to keep the head torch turned off while playing a fish, relying on well adjusted night vision and sharpend senses to understand what the fish is doing... its times like this that the ability is tested, and all too often is found wanting.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-srOPZhZCLUKoIQ0uTPWOndvZ86uBp1zQoN-wB-h2_JRNuYGVGyM2sADYlCoPzuzM3q_uS6nEVxobvF0ucZbT9gzfa7N-j0huuczR6Gikn4REQ-HX_CRviDUiNVH0huu1uwQpUhxma14/s1600/DSC02243.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-srOPZhZCLUKoIQ0uTPWOndvZ86uBp1zQoN-wB-h2_JRNuYGVGyM2sADYlCoPzuzM3q_uS6nEVxobvF0ucZbT9gzfa7N-j0huuczR6Gikn4REQ-HX_CRviDUiNVH0huu1uwQpUhxma14/s400/DSC02243.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>The chub, of about 4lbs was followed at 11:30 by a bream, again, of 4lbs, this time from the upstream baited area, taking the popped up source boilie. The source boilie would also account for this chub at about half past twelve. I popped this one on the scales, it had a good head and shoulders and in the headtorch beam I thought it might have a chance of scraping 5lb. At 4lb 9oz my guess was a bit optimistic...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8W_yL8bNhvh1sOKH5YOTWh068xCs5jVSHQPeaw9JEBNL5sC70Lect2BTbfyQWq2Ml-N8iTJNmX8L6AS1tMhT_VNVvoZrMfME5wAd_YO1MlniYc_1ZIRtnqEA7LrRoug_Z7U5PVyf8WBg/s1600/DSC02244.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="288" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8W_yL8bNhvh1sOKH5YOTWh068xCs5jVSHQPeaw9JEBNL5sC70Lect2BTbfyQWq2Ml-N8iTJNmX8L6AS1tMhT_VNVvoZrMfME5wAd_YO1MlniYc_1ZIRtnqEA7LrRoug_Z7U5PVyf8WBg/s640/DSC02244.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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As I returned this chub disaster almost struck, My feet slipped from under me. Falling backwards, I instinctively reached a hand back to break my fall, but instead of my hand taking the load my whole bodyweight fell on my outstretched thumb. In the explosion of pain which followed my first thought was whether I'd be able to drive back with a broken thumb... though as the initial pain subsided and I tentatively manipulated the swollen joint I suspected a bad sprain, rather than broken bone was the problem. <br />
I fished on, another 4lb bream took the spicy prawn boilie on the downstream rod at 1am, and it began to rain, very light and drizzly at first, in stops and starts. By 2am it was becoming a heavier drizzle and I was weighing up whether to call it a night. By 2:30 I had decided that I'd pack up at 3. At that moment another 4lb bream intervened, again falling to spicy prawn on the downstream rod, It was 2:40, my thumb was killing and it was starting to properly rain. Sometimes you need to listen to what the Gods are telling you so I decided to call it a night, once I had walked to the car and driven back to and across Nottingham.... It would be late to bed tonight.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy9K5le9bpQJzmpngJ1uBI5hNWEqjnyBt6WUB8n0i512R8xsMMMXW7j0dIwJ0ol3wPjkcl3uHMLhJ3h5AYU119n7LWFL7cFZdcvo1DMY_PUP1P7_HhvYw2XjdyHh_nx8ACs-BxMbCepLA/s1600/DSC02248.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy9K5le9bpQJzmpngJ1uBI5hNWEqjnyBt6WUB8n0i512R8xsMMMXW7j0dIwJ0ol3wPjkcl3uHMLhJ3h5AYU119n7LWFL7cFZdcvo1DMY_PUP1P7_HhvYw2XjdyHh_nx8ACs-BxMbCepLA/s320/DSC02248.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>trentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15198569239785482279noreply@blogger.com0River Soar, Kegworth52.836811272799743 -1.271075448254350752.818686272799745 -1.3001739482543506 52.85493627279974 -1.2419769482543508