Today I popped out getting the first train down, chosen to fish the same beat where I fished on the opening day of the season. I'm sure not a soul has been their apart from me, this photo below is where I cut my way to the river four weeks back, it's now higher than before. Not having the heart to do it all again in this heat I moved about a mile upstream.
The plan was to fish soft lures for Perch for the first two hours or so, then change over and target the Chub, when the sun got up. Easy, very easy fishing at first. Roaming about, flicking the lure where ever I fancied resulted in over a dozen fish, none of any size today, mostly all the same stamp. Just good old honest fun. Crap photo's though, the old camera shake, need to take a hip flask in future to steady the hand.
The next four hours, done my proverbial brain in. What is it with Chub on my river, in that they show such disdain for my efforts, to get them on a surface lure. They either melt away, have a little look, think about it, then just mooch off. I had a break for a sandwich around 10 o'clock, absent mindedly threw some crust in, something that we all do most probably. It slipped away down stream and was swallowed by some white lips. What can you do but laugh, man has evolved over thousands of years, in that some of us can even walk upright now.
While, you the angler is getting out foxed by a fish, who's only claim to fame is that it's slimy. I reckon maybe another four weeks of summer to get one on the top, then my Barbel fishing will start in earnest. If it carry's on thus, I'm thinking of introducing a few Otters, see who's the smart arse then. Yeah that 'ill learn 'em.
The river needs some rain though, it's not been this low in the summer in some places for around ten years.
How do you feel about these being on your local river, me well they make me smile. But not for everyone it seems, recently in a local tackle emporium one angler was heard to say "They all need shooting, as they eat weed, that then floats down stream and fouls my line". Jesus Christ, what do people expect them to do, phone up and ask the local curry house to do a delivery, while people are fishing. This little family today caused me no distress at all.
I could not let this one slip by unnoticed.
How does one push a pair of braid scissors "To Destruction". Get your very own braid scissors drill sergeant obviously.
"On your knees in the mud you fox bastard, how low will you go"
"I'm not going to quit Sir!"
"Your just not cutting it, you mutha fucka, your arse is mine"
"I'm not going to quit Sir"
I'm sure you get the general idea, now I know dear old Bob Roberts tweaked the nose of Fatwa recently on his blog. But Bob you over stepped the mark, taking the piss out of Fatwa is my remit. Go and find your own forum to take the piss out of, please.
That's me done, more inane drivel to read or maybe not. Enjoy your weekend and if your on the bank, hug a swan.