Winter Chubbing on The Severn

At last my first winter trip to The Severn as in the past something has always come up to thwart that three hour journey, although I didn't get up there at all last year so imagine my excitement on arriving at a beautiful looking river on a cloudy February morning, not early morning mind, I can't warp time but good things come to those who wait.

I was under no illusion that things could be hard but optimistic that it could also be the opposite, a middle ground of a few dace and enough bites to keep that float running through with gusto was my mindset as I donned the chest waders, took out my rod, net and rucksack and ventured up river with a spring in my step, even though it didn't quite feel as though spring was in the air.

There were a few people there in the usual spots by the car park but once I passed them it was wonderfully peaceful save for the cackle from the odd pheasant in the meadow behind, the river itself looked great with a perfect bit of flow, a touch of colour and there was no wind, I knew I had to catch today, if not it would really put a dampener on any future winter road trips here.

I set up in a spot that screamed fish but naturally was really awkward, with submerged trees either side and a slippery bank to perch on. I used the 4no4 stick from a few trips back that took almost double and run it along a crease to where the water slowed, with nothing to show for the first half hour I was about to move on, when the float went under and the most wonderful thud of something heavy on the end rewarded me for my 'three more casts' rule when roving. This fish powering upstream was what I came for, a magical feeling until I noticed the confines of the swim were now well in play, I bullied it across as much as I could with a 3lb hooklength and held firm as it tried to get into the tree upstream, choosing option B from the appetizing snag menu, the result was my size 18 hook almost bent straight but thankfully after I had slid the net under the culprit, a stunning scale perfect chub bang on 5lb and a wonderful start.

I bent my hook back into shape and persisted a little longer here to no avail before the awkwardness of the swim and the thought of falling in outweighed the need to catch another, plus I wanted to try somewhere faster, to explore further. I went upstream and settled on a more comfortable swim, a pacy 4-5 foot deep run pushing through well, the tip of my float barely visible among the ripples, froth and reflection on the water's surface, however it didn't take me long to find out what was below. 

The float went under right at the bottom of the swim no doubt where my loosefeed was finally getting down, once again another chub although despite being much smaller at around 2-3lb it took longer to bring up through the fast water, a slow controlled battle unlike the ones you get near snags, another nice looking fish.

I then had better one at around 4lb before stopping to put a new hook on as it was bending every time with the first three chub, whilst this was handy when hooking submerged rocks of which I knew there were plenty it was an accident waiting to happen with the fish. With a new hook on another couple of good chub took the tally to five before lunch was needed, it was a fun morning's fishing which surpassed my expectations.

From my vantage point (a mound of dry grass as I forgot my stool) I watched as the mallards proceeded in diving for my bait, there's no way they could find my maggots I thought and sure enough they kept popping up with what looked like donkey choker pellets or large boilies off the bottom, worked into feeding by my actions and finding something else.

My lunch was gobbled down as quickly as the mallards had theirs as I was eager to get back fishing. Then the sun came out for half an hour, the water twinkled and looked magical although this meant I could barely see my float at all and there was a good ten metres of trot where the eyes were shielded, I still managed another nice chub which I didn't weigh but looked around 5lb like the first.

I should have waited to have lunch then as the sun made things too hard, but it was a good time to just sit down and have a rest, my arm was aching as it turns out tennis elbow is actually quite painful. I popped a painkiller and watched the birds do their thing, nothing out of the ordinary just the usual suspects you get in the garden, breaking the silence which is usually the job of the steam trains which don't run this time of year, the tracks opposite me in full view laying eerily dormant. 

With the cloud cover returning I carried on and finally had something smaller which had me wondering what it was, expecting a small chub but hoping for a dace the compromise was a more than welcome roach.

Whilst it was the only roach of the day it does show they can handle the fast water in winter if they want to. I then finally got my dace, a large but tatty looking thing, plus a bleak before the last couple of hard fighting chub, also good fish which took the tally to eight chevins, far exceeding my expectations.

With time now pushing on and a good half hour without a bite I made my way back to the car park where I pottered about for a few more silvers in a shallow swim before finishing with a little gudgeon.

It was another cracking day's fishing, with typical February chub action, I managed not to lose a single fish (somehow) and I was so glad to have done well on the long awaited winter trip here, doing the sort of trotting with small hook and single maggot that you can't really do in summer here due to small dace and bleak, it's opened up a new chapter in exploring this river and a new option for when the conditions align to be perfect, as when that happens in fishing and things go well it's a marriage made in heaven.

It was my first winter trip to The Severn and it will stay in the memory for a while, hopefully it won't be the last.

Grayling Trip Part 2

 I was eager to do a bit more grayling fishing but this time on a different stretch, I figured it would be harder, not just because the river was much lower but also it was a new section, a streamier narrow stretch which split into several carriers. I arrived late morning and was graced with bright February sun following an overnight frost, it was a good day to be out to catch a few fish and find new swims, there's nothing like exploring a new bit of river.

I walked to the top end of the fishery, by fishery I mean accessible river as this stretch like the one a few weeks back was free fishing in a park, It always seems wrong roving upstream so I headed straight to the top to rove back down, thinking "That looks good" more than a number of times as I passed swims, en route to setting up by a fence that signaled 'None shall pass further' 

A fox stared at me from the rushes opposite as I set up, golden red in the sun it looked amazing, it must have been having a drink when I got there, I reached for my camera slowly as we made eye contact before it unsurprisingly continued it's journey just as I started mine.

The bottom of the river was visible everywhere and the first few casts were fruitless until I spotted a lone grayling drifting about, naturally I tried for it and I got the fish feeding only to find the obliging culprits were actually trout, I had two but the grayling I thought I saw proved elusive so on I went downstream questioning my eyesight.

In the next spot I waded out and caught yet another trout before venturing further down and realizing something wasn't right, I'd only left my landing net in the previous spot, I can't remember ever doing that before and here it is standing proud like some totem pole to numptyness, I greeted it like and old friend relieved it was still there.

I had come grayling fishing but was getting 'trouted out' if there is such a term but I settled in a dreamy run that looked like it had been designed by an angler, the water gushed shallow under a bridge and there was the typical far bank eddy running under a tree. My stick float trundled along the crease perfectly, finally the first grayling was caught and I was a happy bunny, I knew it would be hard work today so rewards are relative, then a few casts later there was another grayling and I slipped it back in the sun and everything was just right, just perfect.

With the sun behind me I caught a mix of trout and grayling, some down the bottom and sometimes right under the rod tip in the clear water, they must have been able to see me as my shadow was cast long across the clear water from the low sun behind but it didn't stop them feeding.. 

A lady then stopped on the bridge above and threw some bread in, she knew her fishing and we had a brief chat after she asked what I had caught, then the surface erupted with small trout taking the bread in spots where there really shouldn't be fish, trout are the punk rockers of the fish world, no wonder I was having trouble getting through them as they surfaced in the sun, however they still carried on taking my single red maggot despite also having a liking for the floating bread. 

I then stopped for my own bakery produce in the park on what was now a lazy sunny day as a wagtail bobbed up and down on a fallen tree nearby with much more energy than I had. I took a moment to see what those missed calls were about on my phone, took time to look around, took in some calories and cracked on.

It then clouded up a bit but didn't feel cold as I continued downstream but many of the spots I passed were unfishable due to deep water on the nearside and waterlogged rushes, throw in some low trees and you get the picture. In one area the flow was too fast to bring a fish up with the gear I was using and the only spot I could get to meant an upstream cast, not easy in fast boily water but I managed a couple of fish there. Despite being denied by other overgrown fishy looking spots I must admit I do love that a river that can be too wild and feisty even when running low. 

I picked up a few grayling here and there and yet more trout before losing a hook in one of those precarious swims, with the schools about to come out I decided to call it a day early and head back for a glass (or two) of red wine. I stopped on the bridge and looked back one last time.

It was a quite a hard session but my net was wet which is always a good thing even though trout won the day, all the fish were a decent size but nothing over a pound, they all looked like works of art when illuminated in the sun. I finished on 15 trout and 13 grayling in total. 

That will be it for the grayling this year although I think I may have said that last time.