I was back on a local river yesterday afternoon with the leftover bait from the Marlow trip, just enough maggots for a few hours trotting. I didn't expect it to be so hot and the bright sun was a stark contrast to the overcast windy day I had before. No coat or hoodie was needed as it was the T-shirt weather again, the weather has certainly had some variety this summer and I must admit I quite like it.
I wanted some variety in the fishing too and any barbel would be nice although I couldn't spot any which was worrying as it sort of confirmed stories of poaching going on, there was still a few nice chub around though and a 3lb chevin was the first good sized fish of the new season, lots of dace plus decent sized roach and these three species kept me busy in the sunshine as I trotted maggot.
It seems this year is going to be a good one for dace and I had some crackers once again but this blog is fast becoming trottingdowntheriverfordace so no photos this time. The roach and chub kept the silver darts honest and I soon got though the half pint of maggots I had remaining.
I moved to get some shade for the last hour or so and switched to pellet for the first time this season stepping up the gear slightly, naturally the first fish was a small chub with a big gob but also a few 6oz roach followed which is a good sign. Then the float buried and stayed buried, like a magnet had sucked it to the bottom and wouldn't let go even with a strike. Sometimes you forget how much these barbel fight especially on float gear, the first barbel is always great so I took a photo of the long, lean torpedo of a fish, not big by any means but it sure wasn't a dace.
As is often the case on the float a three more followed in quick succession interspersed with kamikaze cigar sized chub and the odd roach, it showed there was still barbel around in this stretch. Up to now the season had been 'nice' with nothing big but now it seemed better now that a few barbel had seen the net. The second barbel was a beauty and to get such a nice fish so early into the season is a real fillip.
I rested each fish well taking the opportunity to watch them in the net, stopping, staring much like the swallows yesterday, each one was fighting fit and wanted to go, nonetheless I waited until they showed it fully, skylining the narrow swim each time but like I cared about that then. The swim naturally went dead but I'd had enough by then, the warm sunshine had turned to cool shade where I was so I was happy to take a slow walk back through the sunny meadows in the evening sun, reflecting on what's been a good start to the season.
I may delve into the records and pick a random river next, or try somewhere new although I've already fished four rivers and the season isn't much over a week old. Despite all these trips it seems I've been watching football all week, how does that work? A few weeks ago I had no car and envisaged limited trips to the rivers so now I'm making the most of it, so when I'm stuck indoors snowed under with work later in the year I can look back at these days when I made hay as the sun shone, it was certainly shining today.
