I'm off to the Warks Avon, not expecting much, with low levels and a warm sunny afternoon forecast, I envisaged a handful of fish being a decent result but a day trip was needed and I was up for the challenge.
The trip didn't start too well as on arrival the car park entry was blocked by a fallen tree, not what you wanted to see after a two hour drive, fortunately there was a free car park next door so I unloaded the gear from my car in this otherwise empty car park and made my way under the tree to the Avon just below Stratford.
I was surprised to see two cars by the river, turned out they had come in pairs so one was able to lift the offending branch to allow passage for the vehicles, I had no such luxury on my own however the extra walk wasn't a long one. A brief chat to these anglers trotting maggot was helpful as I viewed blade bleak causing a nuisance. This vindicated my decision to bring only pellet, the water was low and clear as I knew it would be and I figured whittling out a few roach and chub would suffice in such low levels, my expectations were very very low.
Some decent spots were taken but I was really surprised and happy to see the weir empty, this was the only water with any pace, I settled on the point, looked downstream as a kingfisher flew across, the long journey and the car parking problems were instantly gone from all thoughts.
On went a 2 no 4 stick, with a robin red banded to an 18, I figured any fish would be feeding on the drop today. A few years back I struggled here in similar conditions so was pleased with instant bites, mostly chublets and a few bump-offs from fish far too small to stay on, then I hit into the first decent netter roach, with it's vibrant dark clear water colours.
Naturally a pike soon turned up, as an even better roach went 'solid' in the jaws of the esox, there was little chance of landing a pike in this spot which was all flow, so a bite-off down the bottom of the swim after a brief tussle was perhaps the only viable outcome.
The roach came and went in spurts in a way that signaled the pike was still around and the better ones were brought to the net in a hurry half expecting the inevitable, however the pike didn't ambush again, which I didn't mind one bit but it did slow the catch rate a lot.
A dabble in the weir itself bought better action although It did mean a heavier float, trundling through the foam, roach after roach interspersed with the odd chub to a pound made for a great morning's fishing in the shade of the trees, as the sun was starting to emerge. Aside from the odd small chub with their big gobs, pellet always picks out the larger fish, even a few big dace showed up but it was mostly identikit roach perfection,
I could have stayed but a foray downstream to explore beckoned, so I left the noise of the weir for the eerie yet welcome silence of the meadow, not before falling flat on my backside on the island, whilst following a couple also leaving who were above the weir, the drawback of trainers and shorts as opposed to the grip of waders coming to the fore.
Falling whilst roving is a skill, one must always be conscious of the rod and net and adjust accordingly forsaking any health and safety for the manky old rod you've had for years. Swearing mildly usually can help alleviate some embarrassment of looking a wally if in view of others. If said rod, net and rest of gear is intact and ready to fish, have a laugh and strut like a cat who has twisted mid air to land on it's feet. It's also a bonus if you are not going to A&E, so thank your feline ninja skills for negating such comedy clumsiness with aplomb. At least tell yourself that.
I dusted myself off just in time for an unexpected cloudburst that left me hunkering under a unhooking mat that was fresh with 'scent of roach' which I can confirm will not be a best seller in the perfume departments this Christmas. I knew if I dug the poncho out it would stop and sure enough it lasted only a minute but was enough to make me take each descent to a swim more careful than before given my form for today. Then the sun came out properly and it got mighty warm again pushing 30c, the forecast shorts and trainers weather for sure, at last. The rain was enough to make things slippy but the huge cracks in the soil were evidence of a much drier period of weather, we all know as the summer of '25 has been a dry one thus far. Rain is badly needed and much more than the odd inconvenient shower.
Downstream many of the swims were now occupied although some of the others were just unsafe and neglected, some were an accident waiting to happen on what I call normal float gear, with lilies, fallen trees and rushes between river and and bank, naturally these spots looked the most fishy, in the ones I tried I fared not too well.
I returned back to the weir with not much to show for my rove other than a few chublets and a lost roach which looked lean but quite decent. The wander did give an opportunity to look at deep margins which were full of silvers and gravels which were devoid in the bright sun. A chap was in the weir now so I went back to the point, back to square one and not a bad one at that. I picked off more roach and small chub like before, looked to my left and the fella was dusting out an old cane rod to go on the float too, good luck if you are using maggots I thought as I landed another quality roach.
The low levels of flow was such that another chap was bravely traversing the weir lip to get to the other side with just a net and rod, he looked far too old for such reckless adventure I thought, thinking of my own lack of surefootedness earlier, but fair play I thought, his reward was sitting on a stone of the weir and lowering his bait into the flow under some trees which I must admit looked sooo good. His quiver tip bent over and I watched intrigued as he went for the net eager to see his catch whilst at the same time hoping he doesn't fall in, as I probably would. The net then gets slipped under a a very decent looking.......eel of all things! he paused to look at the fish for a few seconds, I'm not sure if it was in awe, confusion or despondency although I do suspect the latter.
Meanwhile in roachland a swirl on the surface near the last redfin signaled time to call it a day as mr pike was back with a near miss.
I finished with 32 beautiful roach, all netters, 15 countable chub not including the tiny ones, plus 3 big dace all on 6mm pellet, an easy 15-18lb of fish on a day I thought I would struggle for bits, the roach didn't half pull in what current there was too and I could have caught many more. On the way back I stopped at one of the unfishable spots as I thought I saw a huge roach, I fed some pellets and chub ghosted into view, proper chub so perhaps it was one of these I saw? I was tempted to set up again to find out but I was tired and the swim would make any chub a clear favourite, so I left it with the appetite whetted further for next time.
The fallen tree was now propped up out the way on the way out as I walked past to my little car, which was still all lonesome in the car park round the corner, I left a donation in the box and tucked into my car meat that was sitting in the cool bag in the boot, seasoned to perfection. Time for me to have a good feed as the roach certainly have been today. It had been a good trip to the Avon.
