Nothing like a day's fishing in the country. Get away from all the smoke, muck and noise of the town. Into God's good air. But you must do it properly if you're to gain the full benefit. You need some distinctive transport for a start. Range Rover, Land Rover are fine. Japanese or American runabouts which look like an upmarket jeep or souped-up builder's truck, with names such as Shogun, Samurai, Maverick, Laredo, Mohawk, Cherokee, etc. The original trim is usually very butch, but you can improve on it by having it painted in full camouflage or with safari-park zebra stripes.
Mount a piece of plastic drainpipe on the top. This not only holds the rods, but makes it look as if you're about to zap a tank at any second.
Leave the gates open behind you: saves a lot of time on the way back. The open gates also give you, on looking back or doing a U-turn, the full effect of the tracery made by your four-wheel drive over the different surfaces of the fields. Such interesting textures.
And it might encourage you to try a few figure-eights on the more friable surfaces.
While you're at it, why not try rounding up the odd herd of bullocks, aided by nothing but the souped-up horsepower under the bonnet? Surprising how fast they run when they put their minds to it.
Here we are, at the water. Let's get cast out, then, and open a few cans. Ah, that's better. Nothing like fresh air for giving you a thirst. Save the empty cans. And the bottles. When things get quiet you can sling them in the water or range them along the top of a wall and get in some target practice with your .22 or air rifle.
Let's have the old CD's on while you're waiting for a bite. An earful of Groove Armada's Superstylin . Makes you feel you're right out there in the wide open spaces. Turn it up a bit. Spot of Mick's Angrybeats vintage Mixtapes as well. What a life those boys have, eh? Riding the range. Rounding up the dogies. Punching the old cows.
Talking of which those bullocks have come back through the gate from the next field. Never learn, do they? Let's give them a run for it. Hee-yah! Woah - hee! Round 'em up, head 'em out, Rawhide...! By heck, they didn't stay long. Never mind: we've got those sheep over there. Get your wellies on, lads! Maa- aaaah! Gerrup there!
Phew. Takes it out of you. Still not a twitch on the rods. Let's get some grub down us. Big fry-up. Nothing like it, over an open fire. Get one going under those trees, out of the wind. And let's have some stones off the top of that dry stone wall to hold it in. Don't want to set the undergrowth alight. Country Code and all that.
While it's quiet, let's stack some stones from that wall into the back of the van. Look smashing in that rockery back home.
No luck with the rods yet? What kind of water is this? Anybody fancy climbing a tree? Tell you what, race you to the top. Me Tarzan. Aah-ahah-ah-ah-aaaaaaaah! Phwarh! That was fun.
Can't trust those branches, though. It was touch-and-go when that big one broke. Right... let's look at those rods. Looks like a nibble on Hey up! Who's this? Looks like some sort of a farmer. None too pleased, at that. And what's that he's raising to his shoulder? Looks like a Eek!
Tell you what, you're not going to take this lying down. Having to leave all the gear at the water like that. Only just escaping with your life. There'll be a strong complaint on the club secretary's desk on Monday morning. My God, if you can't enjoy a quiet day's fishing in the country without some loony peppering the seat of your pants...
Anyway enough of that, back to business, a bit of fishing down the Arrow !!!
I had stopped off on-route to a convenient stretch of the Warwickshire Avon however despite the river being within the bank now, the problem was actually getting to the area I wanted to fish. The route to their was waterlogged and was wellie height easily so waders would have been required really.
So it was to the Arrow to try and winkle out a chub or two. I've had some nice fish from here since I've started fishing it, my best chub so far 4lb 12oz which ain't bad for a small river.
However this 4 hour session wasn't exactly going that well for the bigger fish and it was clear they were not really on it. There was plenty of small fish nibbling the bread as soon as it hit the bottom where swim after swim all I was managing was chublets of this stamp.
At least it was better than last time here but despite the river losing lots of colour from the previous visit where there was now around a foot of visibility, those proper chub were suspicious in their absence. I do fancy trying for perch here though, because plenty of predator activity and plenty of small fish topping.
An enjoyable read, better luck next time.
ReplyDeleteCheers Dave !!
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