A heavy shower that lasted ten minutes came out of the blue but luckily I was watching it from my living room window. You see after dinner I was twiddling my thumbs to go fishing or not but despite the threat of further rain I thought yeap might as well, I'll only regret it.
The small group of barbel I'd stumbled upon could wait till I could do a morning session as I wanted to relive Sunday morning session and take my time with heavy feeding and this time scaled down stout tackle.
This section of the Warwickshire Avon despite its strict curfew changes considerably when the light goes. Luckily I only live ten minutes away and the access is good to this particularly picturesque section of the Avon in Bards country.
The river really is gin clear and low which is evident in the match results just how tough it is with no one managing anywhere near double figures in the latest match.
However those motionless rods can often jump in to life when the two patrolling barn owls show themselves and the bats become active. The problem is this stretch doesn't have the numbers of barbel it once had but as its home to my PB it will always be on ones radar.
The banks were quite down the bottom end with an angler in the peg I wanted to fish who had been there at 2.00pm and only had a couple of eels. The bailiff and his dog had similar ideas to me and would be off half an hour after dusk and he was on the end peg but was biteless when I spoke to him.
I settled in a swim that wasn't match fished the weekend a rather overgrown affair but nothing that couldn't be sorted with my size 10's. I had an hour and half with baits in the water and after a couple of tentative plucks it was only when the sun disappeared behind the hills the proper bites started.
There are some good chub here but the foot long sharp pulls I knew what they were likely to be and that was chublets.
The last half an hour really was quite ridiculous with the right hand rod receiving the most attention and despite using long hairs the inevitable happened. Yeap near packing up time the culprit of a Barbel esk bite as a small swinger chub that so determined to get a feed it had hooked itself and went on the run.
Not going well is it, not only the chub are getting smaller but the Barbel are elusive as ever. The action really did hot up come sun down so I think the syndicate stretch may well see some attention soon because at least there I'm not in control of the law creators and can fish with my rods with nightlights and a head torch can be worm without fear of losing ones membership.
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