I stopped overnight with Dave and we chatted about the prospects and all things fishing over a meal at the pub. This was a solo trip so I had the entire length to myself. I woke early and looked from the bedroom window at the clear water running past the house. The ducks were already gathering on his lawn for the morning feed and the robins were adding some music to the scene.
your feed and bait through to better species. Don't get me wrong. On a fly and in the right circumstances, I'd sell a kidney for trout like these but please leave me alone when there's roach around.
First trot and the float ran alongside the weed nicely until it sharply dipped. My rod (Chapman Harvey Torbett copy and an absolute dream to use), bent and I presumed that trout number one had grabbed my flake. But no. A flash of silver and a see-saw shaking of the body became a roach. A good one! I nursed it to the net with my heart in my throat until it slid over the edge of the waiting net. Yes!
|Slightly blurred but lovely|
Not to worry. Next trot and a grayling of at least one and a quarter pounds came in. There were large trout patrolling up and down the swim and I'd avoided them, what a start. The luck continued when three or four casts later, I again struck into a confident bite and another fine roach was landed. One pound and fourteen ounces! So close to my first river two pounder but big enough to make the long drive more than worth while.
And then the trout took over. Fish after fish, all between one and three pounds, all ready to jump, run and generally thrash the river to foam if given half a chance. A couple of delicate but missed bites hinted that a roach or two was still about but they were now shy and it was time to move.
I caught so many trout down that fishery. But more grayling, a few dace and a perch interspersed the mayhem and every fish was fun to land.
|Another greedy trout|