Tuesday 20 October 2020

A Couple of River Trips, One Lucky Escape and Two Lucky Fish

Beef With The Locals

I hadn't been down The Gade for a bit of fishing since the opening day with dad so I was eager to see how things looked following the recent rains. I wasn't disappointed, the river was running well yet still looked quite clear and there was some lush weed too, it looked perfect. Thoughts roamed to how it's trying so hard to be the little chalk stream it deserves to be and even how grayling could thrive in such rippling flows. However the harsh reality of knowing the river has been in and out of the canal countless times wasn't lost so I knew dace would be the main quarry, but after they went a bit scarce a decade ago it was something I'd settle for as I was up for some proper river roaming.

I set up at the top end as usual, there's always something about roaming downstream that seems right, going with the flow. I dug out the 3lb 2oz main line for the first time in ages knowing the chances of encountering something large were slim on this free stretch of river, this coupled with a lighter hooklength meant everything was so crisp and my little stick float was dotted down as far as my eyesight would allow. It felt like the old days as the first of many quick biting dace battled their way across the current to where I was standing in the bright sun. I cast a shadow but it was a lazy late summer one and I cared not as the fish didn't seem to mind, the dace were abundant and a few decent roach showed too so I decided to experiment with a few photos of some them on the clean sunlit gravel after I slipped them back.

.....or before I scooped this one out

It was soon time to ramble on, for downstream beckoned, trying holes here and there, more dace followed in almost every one, not a lot but enough to keep me busy with the odd roach too, eventually making my way to the bottom end where it was so peaceful. I sat eating my lunch watching a jay go back and forth across the meadow to the nearby woods. It was still sunny and it was almost eerie how quiet it was with no dog walkers getting down this far which I didn't mind one bit. I did get some company work their way towards me in the form of a herd of cows, as I worked my way down to the very bottom of the stretch they gradually munched their way closer and closer each time.

Now I'm a bit funny with cows here due to experiences in the past, below I've copied a paragraph from my other post about this stretch of river which may explain why, if you've already seen it skip it but if not be afraid, be very afraid....

(There was 175Cow, probably not the most imaginative name for a beast but it had that number in it's ear and was a cow so... But it's a cow I hear you mutter like I'm some sort of loon, well I kid you not that 175Cow was not just any cow but rather, in layman's terms was a complete and utter nutter with udders. Many a time I would wonder down the bank with my gear to hear footsteps behind me, gradually getting louder until forming a stampede, I would look around to see 175 standing there with her cronies, turning around with the net and rod raised hollering made them stop but as soon as your back was turned they were off after you lead by you know who. It was scary stuff and on quite a few occasions I used to say to dad "It's 175! maybe we'll give that swim a miss today". He always agreed.

I remember one time when the housing estate was being built on the old paper mill site a building worker would go across to the moor and smoke something iffy in the bushes on his break. The look on his face was something I'll never forget when I came running past being chased by a herd of mad cows, I made it through a barbed wire fence without thinking what could get caught up in it I was so scared, I turned and looked at this chap and he almost did that thing winos do in old comedies when they look at the bottle, he was stunned and I was close to needing a new pair of pants. The weird thing about 175Cow is she was one of those pretty Jersey types with the long eyelashes, the sort you would like if she was in cartoon form, well you know what I mean. Anyhow she didn't look menacing unless you were a person or dog, then you got chased. The last time I saw her she was chasing a guy who lived on one of the canal boats across the moor - he was on a motorbike at the time)


So I've now got to the end of the stretch and so have the cows, I cannot go any further, I've checked the ears of any to see what numbers they are there's no number 175 so i'm ok right? Nope, not really as they have decided to park up for the day and sit down on the ruddy, muddy footpath, the bit where it turns to bog. I'm waving my arms about and shouting to get them to shift but they are just sitting there nonchalantly. I'd almost fallen over walking through that bit of mud on the way down, it was surprisingly deep and covered in a foot of water. Of course this was the spot where they decided to sleep of their lunchtime excesses.


There's a saying farmers have about the cows sitting down and the weather but I can't remember how it goes and I wasn't worried about the night's weather forecast right then. Cows also have a saying "When idiot in stupid hat yells at you to move, don't !" Sure enough they weren't budging and who could blame them. I could say I had no beef with them but that would be milking it so I made my way around the herd through the sticky bog, under a pylon grateful that there wasn't any lightning, keeping my rod low, hoping all the time that it doesn't get too deep. I finally made it out the other side whilst they all just stared, I looked around to see if there was a 175 style chase imminent but there wasn't. "Yeah you wont mess with me again in a hurry" I told them straight, albeit out of earshot, back at the car, half a mile away.

Two Flukes on The Bank Is Better Than None

The following week I'm back in leafy Hertfordshire in a more Autumnal setting as the weather had turned and it was safe to say Summer was over. It was much colder and a northerly wind had made me add the thermal lining to my German army surplus coat for the first time. I was in the area where I caught a nice perch last month but wanted to fish the swim below which was in theory much better. So with the extra water coming down I really fancied going for it, I had the float bug and I was going to fish the stick like a demon and take this swim apart.

Two hours later and I had three small perch and a couple of even smaller chub to show for my efforts. There were tiny chublets and gudgeon everywhere and I couldn't get through them so the swim was taking me apart. Funny how expectation is never the same as reality so I sat there and had lunch reflecting on a pretty poor morning's fishing, the main bit of entertainment coming from working out the dull thuds I heard all morning were courtesy of a woodpecker which finally came into view, either lesser spotted or greater spotted I couldn't tell but it was one of the black and white jobbies with the red head, working it's way along the rotting fallen willows that were parallel to the far bank, I'm pretty sure that dude had more success than I did.

After lunch I wandered up to the swim where I had the big perch last time just to see it if was still around after all I was quite good at catching gudgeon today, maybe I could pick up a chub as there's usually a few there, mind you I could have said that about the first swim, the one where I would have caught loads had it not been for the gudgeon, or the chublets, or the noisy woodpecker putting me off or had the day not had a 'Y' in it. 

In the new swim I fed around six maggots, lowered in the float for the first time half depth not expecting much but it ripped under immediately, a stonking bite that took the float out of sight and went really solid signalling a good chub was on, snaffling my single red maggot midwater without hesitation, sometimes you just can't work fishing out. I was keen not to lose what could be the only big fish of the day although I knew my chances were slim as this swim was tight. 

Now the river here was only three or four foot wide but my clutch was set loose as I had already bent my size 18 Kamazan B510 back into shape from snagging bottom in the other spot, my rod tip was under the water as the rushes on the near side made It hard to apply any side strain, at times there was so little line out my float was almost touching the rod tip. This made the fight exciting but nervy, one I knew I could lose at any moment, even more so when I noticed it was in fact a barbel and not a chub, and this barbel was doing a good job of trying to get under the prickly bramble overhang. I took a chance on a bit of a risky landing, getting it in first time I got it to the surface so even this was fortunate. I had never had a barbel in this spot ever and now I get one first cast, it should have come off but it didn't. Sometimes you can only say the best laid plans are no match for sheer unadulterated luck.


Despite the hectic scrap the fish swam off so strong, it didn't even want to be rested in the net but I rested it nonetheless. I returned to the swim and all I caught for the next hour was more gudgeon and yet more chublets, the big perch obviously wasn't around and there wasn't a sniff of a roach or proper chub either. That flukey barbel had really turned a bad day into a good one.

Now I needed a rest as I had been balanced on a combination of mud and waterlogged rushes all day, I'm not sure there's many ways of fishing that's more tiring than that so I went downstream looking for somewhere comfortable to sit and fish for an hour or two before going home. I stopped to chat to another angler on the way and twenty minutes later I'm still there chatting, a nice chap but I couldn't get away, it won't be the last time that happens but I'll always find time especially if they are older, I could be the only person he sees all day, now that's a sobering thought* My legs were now killing me so I got my goodbyes in wished him luck as I had used my quota of that already, or so I thought.

* I like to think he actually went home to his missus telling of how he couldn't get rid of a chatty angler rabbiting on about gudgeon for some reason before going out with his mates to the pub to watch the football, getting drunk and having a great time before getting the rods ready for the next trip.

I soon get to a spot that I almost passed by as it was so overgrown, however there was just enough room to flick my float out above a tree that was overhanging so much it was almost touching the near bank, running it right under along a nice crease. It was almost the textbook swim as I was sat on the inside of the bend, wind on my back, the water deepening against the tree and the clear water going black in the shade. The current was so perfect it was almost impossible not to have the float going through like a dream and starting shallow I picked off a few nice roach all around 8oz. I was hoping for a chub and whilst bites weren't hectic to start with there was enough action from the roach to keep me busy. Finally a chub showed and once again it was a fluke as my line was caught round the back of the reel, for some reason the chub didn't head for the roots, my repaired hook held firm and my luck held once more for a nice fish that was around 4lb


Varying depths and continuous feeding bought more roach, most of which were around the 8oz bracket plus a few more chub, then the gudgeon started to show as I must have been drawing them in from downstream. There was enough roach plus the odd chub amongst the gudgeon to keep me wanting just one more cast as the rain started to hit my back quite hard, it was now a fish a chuck and I was tired as the planned couple of hours soon turned into three or four, but yeah just one more cast... I don't mind the rain as long as it doesn't get in my bait pouch and there was something about it pinging off the hood of my German army coat as it seemed like the only noise and that was just wunderbar*. 

*This is a reference to a previous trip where I forgot said coat and got cold and wet thus making a big boob, wunderbar of course is German for wonderful, not to be confused with wonderbra which is the English for making two big boobs

Every now and then some of the gudgeon were bigger, good deep ones with big heads which made the fishing interesting and if they fill out a bit more a new rival to Sherman The Gudgeon could be a possibility come winter, oh yes, rabbiting on about gudgeon is cool when they are this size.


Evening was now drawing in and I was really tired by now, I could hear the rush hour building on the wet roads in the distance, my hands were wet and gritty from the dust in my bait pouch, offloading my maggots in large handfuls to finish off as they weren't worth keeping, not befitting a cold wet day but the fish were still having it (I was really trying to get those gudgeon fatter) The float was now disappearing each trot under the tree without fail although my bait was now almost gone, it's funny how long it takes when you are trying to get rid of it though.

I set out to run a float through in style yet got brought back to earth like only fishing seems to do, managed to fluke the two biggest fish of the day and finally got into the groove as the weather turned wetter, it was hard work, a bit streaky at times but fun and rewarding and at least there was no cows. 

Now where was I? Oh yeah - Just one more cast.