So it was time again for another winter day trip up the Severn hoping to replicate the success of February last year, a few chub would do me nicely although I knew It would be much harder. A fairly strong easterly was already in place and heavy showers forecast later meant that it could be 'one of those days' but hey I was willing to find out.
The water was fining down but still pushing through at 1.1m on the local gauge, almost twice what you would call perfect for trotting but fishable as far as I was concerned, plus a decent colour.
Naturally the spot where I did well at last year was taken but also the two little holes below it, plus most of the other good spots for that matter, both banks had plenty of anglers on them making the most of the last weekend of the season. I soldiered on as the steam train whistled along the opposite bank, while sheep and their lambs greeted me with a chorus of bleats as I walked through sodden fields. It was already worth the long drive for there was far worse places to be right then.
The first swim available was one that offered more boil than flow and wasn't working for me after half an hour so I moved between two trees in a tiny spot that was a bit of a suicide swim. Here I had two waterlogged bushes either side and a precarious short trot close in. It looked perfect for chub but whether I'd get one in would be another matter, it was a test however that I was about to take.
So my stick finally goes under with an unmissable bite and it all goes solid, the head shakes and it's game on, It's not bottom after all and clearly a chub. Trying to tire it in the flow without either bush coming into play was more fortune than skill, this chub would have owned me in similar confines on a tiny stream but on larger rivers they are easier to get in, don't ask me why. So after doing the hard bit of coaxing, the bullying came into play as it finally saw snags to head for, it had a go at the upstream one but my nerve held as well as my fine line and a good chub between 4-5lb was netted.
You don't want to lose that first fish, it may be the only one plus I knew the float would ping off and find one of those bushes causing double the pain, but it didn't and now everything was just perfect, I didn't care if it would be the only fish of the day or one of many like this time of year can offer. The trip was justified, the scenery gorgeous and the bad weather was just about holding off.
Here's my little swim, one where I've done well in the summer for barbel but it's sure getting smaller each year, the photo doesn't do it justice and I fear it will soon be overgrown completely.
I persisted here for more chub given that a wander would see more anglers than swims but nothing else showed. Plenty of creatures great and small came to see me, from a whole variety of birds to curious playful lambs, this big old bee looked like it had woken up a touch early, sitting all lazy on a twig. I wondered if I would be sitting all lazy in a good spot If I had done similar this morning.
I stopped for lunch and heard the steam train coming back, after a couple of diesels there's no mistaking that chug and whistle although it seems to echo down the valley for miles. I sat there munching on my lunch with the camera ready hoping the engine would be facing the right way, as they never look right the other way round. I wasn't disappointed, I waved back at the people on the train like I sometimes do when having a fun day not realising an angler was walking back on the far bank, In hindsight I probably shouldn't have shouted Choo Choo!
Getting back to the fishing for another serious bit of trotting saw me bump a really good bite, no excuses and a bit annoying as bites for some reason were once in a blue moon. I had to wait an age before the float dipped again, this time the first dace of the day was swung to hand.
It was super slow so I had to have a wander up and down, stretch the legs and see what's going down, trying a few iffy looking swims along the way. As ever the anglers I did converse with were more than friendly, offering insight to what wasn't being caught today so I was in good company in struggling. I had a good laugh with one local who's spirit was indefatigable despite blanking, jokingly asking him If he'd seen my twin brother go by after walking back past him for the third time.
The farmer came to feed the sheep behind me, the noise a hundred or so sheep make when it's feeding time is quite a rumble, as I walked along I watched all the ewes and lambs running after the tractor drowning out it's engine noise with ease, they are much louder than the diesel but not as loud as the steam train I concluded.
I managed a couple more dace and a few minnow on my wanders but It was a case of one bite in a less than ideal swim then nothing, it was a strange old day for sure, there were a lot of two rod anglers with heavy leads but I doubt if fish like the dace were tackle shy, I still managed a nice one though.
So that was more or less it for the day and perhaps the season, I'd fished it hard and by now had enough to not stay until dark, with the only other spots open to the wind and a long drive ahead it was time to go home. My early chub had saved they day and I was right to play it like a demon and delight in the result at the time. I think I could have picked around 30 rivers where I would have done better in such conditions, I probably crossed many but often it's that adventure rather than the achievement that keep you coming back for more.
