River Kennet Upper Benyons June 2024

 The River Kennet has had problems over the last few decades so much so that the club describes this stretch as 'In transition' however I was willing to give it a go, as there was worse places to spend another gloriously sunny June day fishing. 

This river has fond memories for me as the first time I had fished the Kennet I caught a 20lb 2oz pike on grayling gear whilst on a trout beat with Dad, this was a few decades back but I never tire of seeing this fish.

That was further upstream and a long time ago now so I was in no illusions that today would be harder, my expectations were to whittle out a few dace or perhaps a grayling as they had seen some stocking, although I thought bleak or minnow could be a problem, I was about to find out, one thing for sure was the river looked beautiful and the surroundings were great, I was eager to set up and get started..

I parked up the top and tried several swims around the car park without getting a bite, what struck me was how fast the river was, not like the Severn or Teme but a heavy sort of water pushing through which made it feel different, the river was also much deeper than I thought it would be. My enthusiasm was starting to wane into the second hour, so much so I imagined a fish on briefly at one stage although It could have been weed, we've all done that, a sign usually that a pause for lunch is needed.

After eating only half my food I moved the car downstream eager to crack on, rod still made up in the back but broken into sections, the line in between making my float bounce like a marionette, my landing net hanging off the head rest of the passenger side like some sort of net hoodie. I was the epitome of disorganization desperate to catch a fish and by now anything would do.

I worked my way upstream trotting different spots looking for a bite, searching for signs of fish, I would have expected some bleak or minnow by now, or see some swirls but nothing. In contrast the flood meadows were alive with bird life, lapwings were making a noise in the middle as a kestrel dared hover above, cuckoos and pheasants added to the audio, but what I needed to hear was the splash of a fish.

Every spot I tried looked amazing including one run under some trees where it was shallower, here the float finally goes under and it's not bottom, some good resistance is felt and finally after four hours a fish is on, I dare not lose it, a typically crazy scrap sees a trout of around 2lb in the net and a blank avoided. The following trot through brings another bite but this time it's a small graying in this little hotspot.

Two in two was the reward for all that walking and suddenly the river and meadows were a more glorious place to be, it was beautiful after all, a kingfisher came by as if to say I had been doing it wrong all along, maybe I was however I've done fine on the other 100 rivers I've fished, you can tell when you've fished that many when something isn't right.

I had the whole stretch to myself and could see no one, not even walkers, hear no one except all those birds. No more bites came from the hotspot that was anything but and I took time to finish my half eaten lunch, the brief period of action compensated for the next couple of hours which once more were also bite less as I worked my way back to the car.

It was still an enjoyable day but I did wonder where all the dace and chub were as I finished by the car park. I was just about to pack up when my bait was attacked on the surface whilst retrieving the float, there's only one fish doing that I thought and next trot down saw the culprit soon in the net, the third and final fish of the day, a trout of around a pound which made for a nice photo as I held it upright by the tail to recover on the gravels.

The small trout didn't take long to ghost into the deeps whence it came, drifting across the shallows that should be alive with small fish or fry. The fishing club Reading and District AA are proactive in addressing issues this river is suffering and have even started their own fish hatchery, so hopefully the future can be brighter as the River Kennet sure has some wonderful scenery to be wetting a line within.

River Thames Sandford June 2024

 It's not commonplace to start the river season below hydro electric turbines and it certainly showed the change in times from the last time I wet a line here many decades ago. It would have been remiss of me not to start below these giant screws, which turned and whined causing waves to pulse down the stream. I didn't catch anything here perhaps down to it being too choppy for my standard stick approach although I'd like to think I was distracted by imagining how large a bottle of wine those corkscrews could open.

A few swims down was more my thing, fast and fairly shallow around 4-5 feet, I knew bleak would be a problem here though, this was confirmed by a quick chat with a friendly overnighter who had been here since the 16th, telling me how he shone his torch in at night and saw a whole sea of them, whilst my mind imagined this sea of fish glinting romantically in his torchlight it wasn't the sort of shoal I would want to engage with.

With nothing initially showing In my new swim I thought I could have a decent day when the first fish hooked was a roach, trouble was this soon turned into a pike which in turn saw me tying on a new hooklength after a bite through.

A few fish later I hook something a bit better, perhaps a bigger roach or a decent perch, but with a deja vu resounding thump of solidness it was ambushed by yet another pike, this time much larger and after a battle where it went up and down before going mid stream and holding station the hook just pulls, unlike the first jack pike I never saw this one. I stayed positive as it sure wasn't boring, I usually get a ratio of one in three pike in like this so the next one was going to get it, I thought optimistically.

Naturally the pike disappeared for the day which lead to some nice trotting, the float went through like a dream and everything was caught in that sweet spot downstream where it just slowed, a nice hour or so of half decent roach, perch, dace and chublets, nothing big but fun.

Then the bleak arrived, the tricks that I learned on the Warwickshire Avon last year to negate them had held them off for a while but I knew this was futile long term, even so I was able to pick off a few more fish close in whilst feeding further out. However an attempt at drawing the bleak away using hemp backfired, I have often thought the drill of the hemp hitting the surface just draws bleak in, their lateral lines must just send impulses to their tiny brain saying "FOOD" the same way giant corkscrews scream "WINE" to mine .

I needed an excuse to explore anyway so after finishing off the coffee and devouring lunch like a maggot starved bleak I was off on a rove, typically one of the first things I see is the pub by the lock, there's got to be a corkscrew wine related joke there but I was thinking how I had a touch of envy about the couples enjoying a nice afternoon drink, yet if I was over there I would sure be jealous of someone going fishing on the opposite bank, with that thought my glass was half full, although it was water and a not a glass but a two litre bottle which was more than needed on the first warm day in ages.

After pausing to view the lock cut and drink more fluids I happened upon the overflow pool which had no flow but loads of lilies and froth from bubbles coming up everywhere, although I don't think they were fish as I imagined it to be very silty, however I did catch quite a few pristine roach here.

I would have stayed longer and perhaps should have but It always feels a bit wrong fishing somewhere where the water is stationary on the first trip of a river season, instead I roved on, finding bits of inaccessible bank in places or stomping through nettles in others, this is what the start of the river season is all about, sweating buckets, going through high grass and nettles, getting stung, arms in the air, rod tip catching on brambles, all to find somewhere that is 99% likely to be naff, but it's that 1% that gets you doing it every time.

Before my drinking water was gone completely I did find quite a few chub and I'd love to say they were all clonkers, but that was never what this trip was about, although they did need the net, just.

Next time I'm down here I may take the missus and we will be one of those couples in the pub, the rods of course will be to hand as it would be rude not to wet a line on the walk after.

Chub and Bream on The Canal

 I had fancied a float session on the canal for a while hoping it would now be on form having been sketchy all spring. However on arrival I noticed my pre planned spot (tucked away in the bushes on Boxmoor) to be gin clear and bottom visible more or less all the way across, no fish could be seen at all and even the surface was lifeless. I gave it half an hour of watching my maggots drift aimlessly through the clear weedy water before moving on.

No silvers could be seen anywhere before I noticed a shoal of a dozen bream milling about on the surface. I threw in some of the old bread I had left in my bag which seemed to illicit some movement, so on went a piece squeezed on to my size 18 the best I could, just to see if said activity was fish hurrying away or unable to resist the temptation of bread well past it's sell by date. I of course hoped for the latter.

The float dips I miss, re bait and connect second time round with one that twisted and turned giving a decent account of itself like canal bream do. I knew this was likely to be a hard day so I was happy to have mugged a good fish early on, a nice looking bream too.

I was right to be sceptical although I hadn't envisaged a couple of hours of walking and catching nothing after the bream. The water was clear and even the odd boat failed to colour it up for long, very few fish could be seen topping and the my float and bait remained untroubled by any fish. So much for a sit down, catch a dozen roach or perch sort of morning.

Trying a spot on the way back to the car I was pleasantly surprised to hit into a chub which I was desperate not to lose in the snags, like the bream it cheered me up no end, a scale perfect chubby chub, glistening beautifully in the sun.

Then a cormorant surfaced right in front of me making me jump, no doubt the reason for the absence of silvers, there's always been cormorants over winter here but I suppose all it takes is one too many and the balance can be catastrophic.

Fortunately the chub here were far too large for avian predators and the next one was much bigger than the first with an even more hectic tussle.

At just under 5lb it would be a quality fish for the upcoming river season and it really made a potentially bad day good, also a bonus was how lucky I was that the hook held.

I bumped one further chub but couldn't bemoan my luck, the sun was bright and a howling downstream wind made for low expectations especially with the silvers all missing.  I did endeavour in this spot managing a chublet, small perch and a bleak to add to the three larger fish.

The walk back saw a few small fish spotted below a lock which was spilling out water, I hope they were all in the current there breeding but I am worrying about the canal this year.  It was a poxy total today but some quality fish so I'm very grateful that my local knowledge was able to help me dig out a few good ones, to make the best of a challenging morning.

Out Comes The Bread

It was the 1st of May and the first time I've dug out the bread for a session. April had been ok with lots of good roach and plenty of small carp but tench and good perch had eluded me completely. With it finally warming up (slightly) I was hoping for more quality over quantity, something bread often achieves. Besides it's usually so much fun fishing on the drop with bread and so simple.

The pole float was a little heavier than usual as there was quite a bit of drift in my chosen spot, it took 1 x no6 which I could double for punch were things to get hard. The area was fed (sparingly at first) two rod lengths out, I set up and naturally the first fish was one of those good roach, followed by a decent bream to kick things off, both taking large pieces of bread instantly on the drop.

Spotting a lone carp taking a few bits off the top meant a bit of mugging was easy fare, I didn't even bother to remove the shot such was my haste and laziness, making sure to squeeze a large bit of bread lightly as not to sink, right under the rod tip, a load of fun on 3lb bottom and a nice carp is in the net.

Back on the float line I was hoping for crucian or a tench as by now I had a few bubbles making the swim seem alive with activity under the water. Above it was mostly bream gracing the net with the majority of them taking on the drop, something bream do rather expertly leading to unmissable bites where the float gets ripped sideways, I don't mind when the bream are quality like these and give a decent account on the balanced set up. They always look massive in the water too.

Then it suddenly became all crucian/goldfish with the larger ones the latter, it was almost as if they had all turned up at once, muscling the bream out the way or perhaps showing them how to intercept bait delicately, there were times when I thought I was on the bottom only for the strike to meet resistance a good metre off of it, making me think a 1 x no6 float rather too robust for these shy biters.

In the next spot I was joined by an interloper who was keen on getting on the rushes right next to where I was fishing, reaching for the camera made it go all shy and revert back to it's original spot.

Bread can sure build up a bit of weight and I was on around 30lb of fish in just a couple of hours with every one a netter, it was starting to slow a touch but not before something felt a little different and sure enough a tench was soon in the net to round off a cracking morning.

Changing to punch whittled out a few more bream and roach but with the skies getting dark and storm showers forecast it was a good time to go an hour after lunch. 

The night was humid and filled with loud thunder waking me from my sleep. 

I could't help but thinking, now that's good tench weather.

4 Stillwaters 4 Targets 1 Week

 Well it's the stillwater season if there is such a thing so rather than wait for things to warm up I've decided to have a crack at a few ponds and the canal, as ever my targets were modest but a little different this time trying to get the following fish.

• Quality roach 
• Any tench of any size
• A chub from the canal
• A big perch

1. Roach on the club pond 

It was off the club pond first up on Saturday, the weather was fairly warm to start with but I was glad to keep the winter wear on as the day got colder. The fishing was sporadic although I got enough bites to have a good day.  Fishing an antenna float which took a couple of no1's most the bites were on the drop with dead maggots working well.

I wanted roach and I got them and good ones too, only a couple of bream interlopers broke the roach monopoly but I wasn't worried, these roach were full of early season strength and vigour and were pushing a pound, there's naturally one that's bigger and although I didn't weigh it I know it passed the pound mark by a few ounces, target achieved, quality roach ticked off.

2. Early Season Tench

A couple of days later I'm down the little tench pond even if I suspected it's a touch early there's still a chance right?  Wrong, the tench didn't play ball at all. I stuck at it for a few hours but even the huge hordes of rudd and roach were finicky. I managed sporadic bursts of roach with a few rudd and skimmers so it wasn't a disaster,.

I had also fed my favourite perch swim on the carp pool next door, a masterstroke of pre planning and pre baiting. So in the afternoon I'm off round there only to find the one angler in the whole area sat in it. I had to laugh at that as I knew that was a possibility. 

I did manage a carp in another spot off the top on dead maggots which was a laugh, despite being cloudy and fairly chilly by now many of the carp could be seen in the upper layers. Dead maggots are fairly buoyant, a float set very shallow and a boil on the surface was the precursor to a good bend in the rod, a small carp of around 3lb was more than welcome. 

I returned to the tench pool but could barely buy a bite now, it was getting colder and a bit bitter so I called it a day, two other anglers there hadn't caught any either but It was a day out nonetheless and a bit of fun.

3. Chasing Chub Down The Canal

Calling the canal at this time of year a stillwater is pushing it a bit, as you can see it was flowing rather well. I was convinced I would find some chub as being local I have decent knowledge of where they are. Ok I'm being a smarty pants, I knew where they were as I saw them the day before whilst walking down the cut. This time I was walking down with the gear and I soon clocked them again in a slightly different area accompanied by some bream also on the surface.

Setting up along the bank a bit as not to disturb the shoal of chub seemed to take an age, naturally they drifted right in front of me, I fed some maggots discreetly so as not to spook them although some did, others however took a few offerings instantly so confidence grew.

However the towpath got busy and the chub got cagey, some fish passed through every now and then looking spooked and the shoal seemed to split, the bream tempted a few casts but they were not interested in maggots then an early boat came through which wasn't ideal. I knew these chub move and sure enough they were gone from the area completely.

It took a bit of walking back and forth to relocate the shoal and they had moved quite a way down the cut, I repeated the process of feeding and soon get a response as my shallow waggler gets ripped under, I battle it to the middle away from snags yet it somehow finds something solid down the track. All manner of objects get thrown in here and the line is grating horribly on one of them, fish and I part company, it wasn't a good start but I knew it was one of those things.

Consoled by the fact I had done nothing wrong I quickly recast only to have the first 'Little old Lady' encounter of the day, she was being walked by her dog Betty. Pleasant though she was she managed to stand right behind me, blocking cyclists and the like on an ever busying towpath, her dog did whatever it wanted and in the process those chub moved out of sight, for good.

With the old lady still standing there as Betty the dog decided to do a sit down protest I opted to move to another chub spot I know. By now the canal had coloured up with the boats so I cast to a known area after a bit of loose feeding. The float goes under and I was conscious of this swim being even more snaggy, this time I was more fortunate and the chub target was achieved.

I then lost another, the hook bent slightly, a losing ratio of 2 to 1 was not good so with no further bites off I went to do some traditional wag n mag fishing for roach.

By now I was regretting walking from my house in chest waders* and heavy jacket, the sun was out, It was cooking and so was I. Worse still I couldn't get a bite which was weird, all the silt was floating up as it was so warm, at times there was even a weird smell, this gave the canal a spring time appearance, but that floating silt always makes things feel a bit strange. The fish were in a funny spring mood so I went back to the chub swim hoping for one more.

* Chest waders are a good hack when fishing somewhere busy, overlooked with no bushes etc, with the aid of an old bottle with a wide neck you can well you, know go without being seen so to speak. Just don't muddle it up with your drinking bottle.

So I'm back in the chub swim in wall to wall sun and the jacket is off as it's now t-shirt weather, a couple of bleak feed on the drop but still no roach or perch, then another chub obliges to take the tally to a more respectable ratio, a beautiful canal chub lay before me gloriously in the sun.

On another day I would have had 10lb of chub so all in all a pretty decent day out and mission achieved to get a couple. If anything it was too warm down the canal, how weird does that sound? As I walked off a kingfisher zoomed under a graffiti adorned bridge and I made my way home.

4. A Mix Back At The Pond

I wanted some more of that roach action whilst at the same time knowing there was as good a chance of a tench or big perch here as anywhere. Trying a different spot to the weekend I managed to pick an area where three herons were all battling each other in a wonderful display of low flying at close quarters, here one perched on the bridge next to my swim.

The fishing started slow which wasn't surprising given the aeronautics which was at a rod length at times, I had to look up in awe each time one of these prehistoric looking birds glided by so close, so it was only when they calmed down that the fishing got going.

By feeding quite a bit (certainly compared to others) I got the fish feeding both on the drop and on the deck. The roach fishing once again was quality with around 3 fish to a pound on average but none quite the size of the fish I had earlier in the week. There was more variety in this spot though as the first brown goldfish of the year put in an appearance, a lovely fish which was ever so strong.

During a spell where the sun came out two rather large swans came over to make things hard, However a strange drinking routine preceded a bit of jiggy jiggy before they made the heart shape with their necks, I marvelled at this whilst at the same time reaching for the camera, too late of course, but the way their spray lit up in the sun, the sheer white of these birds and the ballet of their courtship will live long in the memory. It was spring and what a show.

A few bream snotted up the line like they do, like most of the roach all caught on the drop, this small hybrid was all covered in tubercles, also getting ready for some action, hybrids are not supposed to breed well but this one will give it a good go I reckon.

A couple of rudd appeared, almost as if to show these bream and roach how on the drop feeding is done, little bars of gold on a spring day.

By now the fish were fizzing on the bottom and my bait was there make no mistake. I suspected they were good roach as they can cause small patches of pin prick bubbles and this was proved as many more followed, although I was also starting to pick up more perch, like little balls they were as so fat. I hoped for a larger one or a tench but they didn't show.

It was a great day though, I watched the other seven anglers most of whom arrived after and left before me, they got just 10 fish between them and most were using the same bait as me, by feeding each cast I was on six times as much by the time I had run out of maggots, getting through the best part of a pint, 46 quality roach, 10 perch, 5 bream plus a couple of rudd and goldfish. The others hardly fed anything, why?

No tench or big perch but it'll do. Over the four trips I had 8 species and well over 100 fish in total, two targets achieved and it was nice to get some chub and such fine roach fishing. What was noticeable was how much they were taking on the drop and how on a variety of waters the larger fish were in the upper layers even on cloudy days. 

The wildlife on show was fantastic and the fishing was pretty decent on the whole, there's no wonder we as anglers can spend endless hours by a bit of water, setting little targets often reveals much larger rewards and they are really the true prizes on offer on days like these.

River Severn March 2024

 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.

Dace Chase Challenge 2024

 Inspired by chats about dace I decided to set myself a fun challenge of catching dace from 4 rivers this February regardless of conditions, the target I set was 100, I wanted it to be fun and guessing a target to set was hard, two of the rivers I knew well were where 20-30 fish would still be a decent day, whereas one river I hadn't fished for a decade and another I had never fished in winter, so 100 it was, would that be too high or too low? 25 dace per trip? 

Sounds like it would be good fun finding out.

The rivers in question were the Lea, Gade, Stort and Beane, all small local rivers in Hertfordshire, I figured I'll start on the former as the first pic is often the thumbnail, how nice it would be to get a tonker dace for the cover pic I thought whilst also knowing huge numbers wouldn't come easy there.

River Lea

So in my infinite wisdom I turn up, not just at a high river (which would be a theme for this quest) but also one of the harder stretches. Suffice to say the first few hours turned from a Dace Chase to a 'lets get a bite from anything' expedition. 

A bit of relocation saw me finally arrive where I knew I'd get bites, it was and still is what me and Dad call The Dace swim, a typical dace spot where a channelled river flies through all shallow and boily, it's not fished much as it's so shallow but I always like fishing here. So it was that the float went under straight away followed by that familiar twist and turn through the boil. I was happy not just to be having bites but also getting a few nice looking fish for that cover shot first up after a morning of blanking, game on.

I had a decent mix of fish in the remaining two hours I had left of light, however the dominant species I am pleased to say was actually gudgeon, this was great to see and I must have had two dozen of the little blighters, maybe a gudgeon quest would be cool next time.

As for the target it was a total of  just 11 dace but it'll do.

Behind the ball on total but some good looking fish for sure so things were going ok.

River Stort

Two summer fishing trips on a slow and stagnant trickle was all the knowledge I had to garner for this river so imagine my delight at seeing a river bombing through all coloured and pacey. Was it too high? Perhaps but the colour looked good at around a foot of visibility so I was confident, I had caught good dace previously here so lets crack on..

Having seen little signs of fishing previously I was surprised to see two floats in the tree where I started, a deep eddy offering both fast and slow water. I retrieved one but the other drifted downstream on my failed attempt at gathering, both were rather robust floats and quite clunky for such a stream, I do feel people fish far to heavy on these little rivers but that's another story, besides I needed to get some dace.

Fantastic, I settled down to trot a 4xno4 stick and It was a fish a chuck from the off, running my float through the boils that separated the slack from the flow, it was safe to say the river was sock on, fitting it was too that a nice dace was swung to hand first cast. Even two dogs in the water chasing balls didn't slow things although when the dopey owner did it a second time on returning my patience was wearing thin. I was in a doggy paddling zone so to speak so expected it and didn't want any confrontation to ruin things, although deep down I was thinking "Don't you know I am on the 2024 Dace Chase Challenge you ruffian!"  The chap was neither a ruffian nor aware of such an inaugural quest so I left him and his two soppy labradors to it, wondering who the most intelligent out of the four of us is, I am still undecided*

* My money is on the floppy eared one who didn't get the ball, not only did it use less energy it also get's free meals, doesn't pay taxes and annoys both the owner and the angler.

I was now building a good total and a really nice mix of species, after all a bycatch when dace fishing is more than welcome, something I will dwell on later on even if I was fixated on those silver darts. The Stort also has some chunky dace and a good stamp of fish were there providing bites on a unseasonably warm winter's day.

The fish kept coming as I moved spots after lunch and the chat on the banks was nice too, I was in a busy park after all. One little old lady stopped and asked "Are there any fish in there?" A common question but one I am always surprised they ask especially when they add the caveat they've never seen any despite walking here regularly. I'm not sure she believed me when I told her I was on a total of 50 fish at the time. Another guy did the routine of standing behind me not saying anything, that's always fun isn't it! We eventually had a pleasant exchange and he knew his fishing, turns out he was just clocking what I was catching after all, in this new swim, a shallow fast affair that was one a chuck too. It was so much fun to fish here even if I was perched precariously on a muddy sloping bank, how I didn't wrap around the trees I was pinging with my rod tip I'll never know although I came close a few times mind.

Eventually my shallow swim was fished out as I knew it would be but not after a whole heap of fun, variety and of course dace. On I went to many spots that were more miss than hit to be fair, but that's roving and I sure got my steps in. Another brief exchange with a passer by was a good one, at the time I was fishing in a turbulent weir scooping out a chub, when above the din of the rushing water the passer by asked "Is that a tench?" I almost fell in, whilst I like a challenge.... Winter Tench Fishing in Flooded Weirpools, would be too much I concluded.

It was a great fun trip, a whole mix of species and what's more a total of 46 dace added and I was bang on target with 57 dace in total.

River Beane

After an aborted trip where my parking location was not reassuring and the skies opened up for a day of yet more rain, I arrived at the little River Beane a few days later to find a river looking very coloured indeed, much like the Stort trip before I had found a much better parking spot and was quite pleased with myself as I wondered along the banks, even if I doubted I would catch today at least I had got here.

It had been a decade since last fishing here but I remembered a good spot, those memories never fade and so I walked on and set up by the weir. 

The water looked pretty busy mind, a few inches of visibility was coupled with twenty minutes of the float going under with anything but fish, but that's winter weir pool fishing for you, all snags and boils, then a small minnow succumbed, usually the bane of the maggot angler, this time it gave me a renewed hope, if a miniscule minnow can see a moving bait so can a dace, so with that faint crumb of incentive I ploughed on once more.

After a couple more barren swims of increasing dejection I stopped at a sweeping bend, it looked great but by now pessimism was taking over with a capital P, the water was coloured and high, however I tried to convince myself I had caught in worse. Then the float went under with the familiarity of scraping bottom, then again and again, but you have to strike it's instinctive, then finally the wriggle of a small fish saw my enthusiasm going to childhood levels, it felt too large for a minnow. That's what it's all about, a 4oz dace making a seasoned angler a champion of the world, long may these humble moments continue I thought, blank avoided, dace caught, one more to the total and where there's one.....

Buoyed by a lone fish I dug out the stool although at the time I thought this maybe a touch premature, I've probably made this mistake a hundred times but I did need a sit down after all the walking. I needn't have worried though as it was a dace a chuck with the odd roach and minnow to remind me of how things started. The dace here were a nice mix of sizes, more so than the previous rivers, nothing huge but plenty of next generation fish, all taking the bait like it was hitting bottom. I even thought I had lost a grayling just before lifting it out, my mind playing tricks I concluded. I changed to a lighter float thus negating the lost fish in the shallow swim and so a dozen more dace followed, a nice mix of sizes, and ever so welcome.

The action kept coming, by now my little float was getting ripped under with unmissable bites, then I saw another grayling in my mind, twisting and turning with a dorsal that's too big for a dace, a snout too pointy, suddenly the net is in play as I dare not lose that figment of my imagination coming to life, so it was a little grayling all silver and glorious lay before me, I know it's not the target quarry but surprises like these are the El Dorado of the angler who fishes for anything. Right then I'd struck gold, I journey two hours to get grayling albeit larger so if they are on your doorstep forgive me, as to get one on mine, no matter how small feels pretty special.

Yet more dace (and another grayling) followed so I was not just ahead of the quest target but had smashed it, even so I had to explore further and stretch the legs. I fished another bend and once again being in a busy park saw a nice chat with a dad and his two little ones, "Tell me when the float goes under" I told them as I caught yet more dace, the two kids went off asking their dad if they could go fishing, maybe next summer they'll be down here with a net or even a rod when they are older, lets hope the river still has those fish.

I ended with a whopping total of 105 dace today and a total of 162 dace overall, fantastic! So I'd done it with just 3 rivers and that is why the Gade is on the backburner, I wasn't going to move the goalposts if I struggled so why do it with success. 100 was the target and 162 achieved. Moreover it was a whole lot of fun and an mighty fine excuse to get out.

As for that bycatch, I am of the theory if you can catch dace well you can get anything and so I did get a fantastic mix for sure, 219 fish not including minnow of course with 9 different species** and some good specimens as well, great bankside chat, wonderful wildlife and thrusting, turbulent high rivers I couldn't have asked for more, here's some variety from the trips....

**The species I caught the least of was...perch (1), it's a funny old game sometimes isn't it?

Not sure what the next challenge will be but this was such a simple one yet so much fun.

Did it exceed expectations? - Hell yeah, as adventures in the commuter belt go, I was in my own little world. 

Was it easy? - I guess so but that's hindsight, at times I was thinking the opposite, maybe next year it will be frosty, low and harder or perhaps I'll be chasing gudgeon, I reckon those dace will still play though.

Was it a challenge? Well getting the dace in numbers was, given that many say they are in decline, here in the land of Herts they are doing ok, I know the Gade was my fall back crutch and that old girl would have seen me right too, so on the whole it wasn't about me or numbers but about a fish that still continues to shine....

 The Dace.