The fishing has been pretty hopeless in the past few weeks. The water is up everywhere and the temperatures down. I’d been to the river at the bottom of the field twice in the last few days, legering maggots to no avail. The rain had stayed away for a while and the levels had dropped slightly so I decided to give it another go, albeit with little expectation. There was a light but bitter easterly blowing straight into my face. A weak sun was doing its best, but the wind was winning that little tussle. It wasn’t too pleasant and the cut-out in the bank where I sit was a gooey quagmire. That said, the river didn’t look too bad:
I was fishing red maggot and couldn’t be bothered with the fiddle of a feeder so just used a bomb. It had trouble holding the bottom with any tenacity so the quiver tip was oscillating somewhat in the current. After fifteen minutes without a nibble I decided I’d better after all whack on the feeder. Well blow me within five minutes I had a sharp tap and struck into a little chub of about 10″. It picked up a bit of mud from the bank as I brought it in:
Well, I was chuffed with it. Hadn’t expected anything in that cold wind. I plugged away for another half hour or so without any more action so called it a day before my extremities froze completely.