The day didn't start too well upon finding a dead cat outside my house, was it an omen? Perhaps a portent of bad luck to come? Well it wasn't lucky for the cat nor the poor owner who I contacted via a local facebook page. With the unfortunate kitty collected I made a belated journey to the Warwickshire Avon mid morning as I still had to get out.
My plan was to fish the Warwickshire Avon near a town called Bidford, named due to the ancient custom of old biddies fording the river, this only happens this time of year on market days or when the road bridge has too much traffic. It turns out that zip up thermal slippers have really good purchase on slippery stones and gravel much like cleated soles on waders. That's why they wear them.
I went to a stretch I had only once fished before, driving down the most rutted lane I had ever been down. I was only able to go at walking pace picking a line that weaved around the larger looking ruts, cringing at every scrape of the front sill, shuddering at every grind of the exhaust and hoping those holes filled with water weren't of a depth akin to that scene in The Vicar of Dibley, the lane was behind a church after all. Unsurprisingly my little car was the only vehicle down this dead end lane all day.
It was back to what I call normal fishing after a summer of fishing bread for a whole host of species, it was back to trotting maggot under a stick. I did briefly try trotting pellet in a weir where access involved getting narrowly over a barbed wire fence, hoping not to get my new waders (or anything more valuable) caught up in the process, then climbing over lock gates, before navigating a narrow towpath. I got no bites fishing there but plenty of stings from the nettles.
So moving downstream to do some trotting maggot I was conscious of finding a relatively bleak free zone but failing in the first couple of spots as the silver hordes hammered the bait instantly. The river was lower and much clearer than I expected and many swims were unfishable due to the combination of rush growth and poorly maintained platforms that were either broken or rotted, so I settled on a slower spot that had no obvious bleak swirls and a safe place to sit.
Of course this swim had to be the windiest and it was downstream and across, the wind wasn't that cold or really that strong but enough for a slight ripple, worse thing however was it lined up every single leaf on my side of the bank, these seemed to be all willow leaves which come complete with a little hook on each one designed to catch any line that is mended in a downstream wind.
Despite the far from ideal wind I managed a few small fish to keep me occupied, an even mix of roach, perch and dace, with the odd bleak and chublet there to frustrate. The sun dipped in and out and when it went in things got quite bitter, the leaves catching the line seemed to be even more frustrating and after a while my thoughts turned to my car being the only one there, not to mention the two hour trip home.
As the afternoon wore on I was really close to packing up when I hit into a better fish, which I wasn't expecting, everything went solid and whilst I hadn't seen it I knew it was a perch, I could just tell, however it came off which was a shame as it felt rather decent. Like the week before I didn't get too down about losing a good fish, it gave me positive vibes that I had found a decent spot and confirmed that these Avon perch do like the margins.
Concentrating fully on the margin attack was one I should have tried earlier. Now the wind was my friend as by gently paying out some slack it did the job of laying my float perfectly behind a clump of weeds I had caught a few times on the bottom but couldn't quite see, in the map of the mind this was the place to get a bait trotting through. I imagined there being more large perch sitting in this ambush spot and that they hadn't all scarpered when I hooked the first one, my imagination and persistence was about to pay off.
So it happens again, something solid is on once more although this time I am ready, more stick is given even though my small hook and light line could yield, especially when it's run found a clump of weed. I flicked down the clip on polarioids (you know you are old when you wear these on your glasses but they are brilliant) and could see a good perch spinning and turning in the clear water a good six feet below. A wonderful sight only bettered by said fish sliding over the waiting landing net.
This fish was long, very narrow and didn't have any belly at all, as a result it was just under 2lb but would have been much, much more if stocky, I'm sure the lost one felt heavier but even so I was really happy with this fish. I just love the way perch pull on light gear and look so large in clear water.
I continued to fish close in, the bites I did get were typical of perch, with the float going under slightly looking like it was dragging bottom. Having watched perch feed many times it's a case of them taking a bait just as it just touches the deck, how the large ones suck in the maggot and hardly move a float that's dotted down to the tip is another question, but they do it so well.
Another perch followed with a really pronounced hump but was small in comparison at around a pound, what was noticeable was how many maggots this one spat out as I netted it, they sprayed everywhere though the mesh, showing this fish was feeding well for quite a while but I wasn't good enough to catch it, either that or it had been drawn into the swim recently and stuffed it's face, who knows? I guess it really did have the hump.
I had managed to salvage a decent day with a few better fish at the end, the car was still sitting there all lonesome down the lane and come to think of it I only saw two other people all day (on the opposite bank) The two meadows this side were all mine aside from the cackling of the odd pheasant and the chime of the kingfishers as they passed through.
The walk back signalled the approach of Autumn, the willows that hadn't dropped their leaves around my float all day were showing hints of yellow, seemingly more colour than they had earlier in the day. The hazy sun that tried desperately to negate the wind was shining low through the start of these Autumn hues, as I started my journey home.
