Warwickshire Avon – Flections and Flosculations

Few animals lend themselves more readily to anthropomorphism than the hedgehog, and so it is hardly surprising that Mrs Tiggy-Winkles should long have been a staple of children’s stories.

Hedgehogs, however, do not merely pander to our sentimentality. Perhaps more than any other animal, they enable us to get up close to the wild. They can be met in suburbs, in gardens, in parks. There is no need to be a seasoned naturalist to glimpse them snuffling busily after beetles, worms and slugs. Hedgehogs live alongside us, but not as livestock, not as pets. They are our surest, our most familiar gateway to a fascination with the natural world.

The view from Brockweir bridge....

Now a recent’ish study conducted to look in to hedgehog populations showed that entire swaths of the countryside have become hedgehog-free. Of 261 sites surveyed, traces of hedgehogs were found in a mere 20%. Shockingly, none was found in the south-west. An animal once ubiquitous in our fields and lanes is facing extinction.

It is no coincidence that the decline in their numbers should have begun in the 1950s, when hedgerows began to be grubbed up, fields soused in pesticides, and agriculture expanded on an industrial scale. Nor is it any coincidence that the rate of decline should have accelerated since the 1970s, as the road network was expanded, and the volume of traffic increased.

Hedgehogs cannot survive without the large numbers of invertebrates that are sustained by a healthy countryside. Nor can their populations flourish if their habitats are sliced and diced by ever more gashes of tarmac. 

Stranded on what in effect are islands, surrounded by hungry and predatory badgers, and poisoned by insecticides, it is little wonder that hedgehogs face a struggle to survive. 

Badgers are certainly on the increase, one even decided that it liked the front of my car a few  years ago, and they’ve had the blame for a liking of little baby hogs to supplement their diet. Oddly of late though, I’ve seen more hedgehogs out and about on my travels than badgers, I suppose it helps that I’m often out of the house, at dawn and dusk. 

There seems to be more slugs about this year, whether or not that has got to do with anything I’m not sure. The thing is, us anglers get to see wildlife that others don’t, even Sam saw his first hedgehog the other day, which again is encouraging, as he could put a face to a name, and only ever seen pictures of them in books.

Now talking of wildlife we attended the Brockwier annual soapbox again the weekend just gone and a wildlife trust volunteer I got talking to hadn’t seen an Otter in the wild in the UK, which I found bizarre, considering the amount I see these days.

He was amazed I’d seen them in the daylight hours, errrrr because they are so used to humans now, again us anglers are in a prime position to see things others wouldn’t, the nations waterways have always been a hotbed of activity, were are lucky as anglers I tell thee.

Anyway back to the session, I’d earmarked this swim for a while now, situated on a bend it was also a holding pool as such as upstream it was shallow and thick with streamer weed, downstream, sluggish and much deeper.

Close in it is quite deep with a nice glide, the far bank, like a mill pond just beyond the crease. The plan was, because as you know I always have them, was upstream to fish a boilie with a paste wrap and a PVA bag of freebies, and downstream, just off the main flow fish a lump of spam again.

The rather large overhanging tree had been trimmed back by some hapless hackers but there was still enough of it left to provide some cover for any large fish that decided to reside there. Now this would be another short after work session to try and winkle out a Barbel as dusk, because they are like a switch down here, cutlery banging on the table like my eldest son Ben, they are in a routine.

That’s the good thing about fishing for them, forgot the spending countless hours behind motionless rods, fish at the right time, you can save yourself a load of thumb twiddling time. For those that have diary makers like me it’s ideal as you can cram more sessions in without fear of upsetting the heirs and assigns.

Within half an hour or so the boilie rod received some attention and it didn't let up for the whole session. Plucks, bangs and pull which were obviously inquisitive chub, however a 6" pull of the rod tip continued and I received my first proper bite.

At first I thought it was a chublet but on closer inspection it was an ickle Barbel. I'd had one a little bigger than this when fishing the fast shallower water when float fishing a chunk of meat, sadly it dropped off before I could net it but certainly encouraging considering a small fish down here is a 5lber.

Now I set my hairs up long like the pubes in urinals at work belonging to those far flung, so headed in to dusk the bite response was ridiculous. So much so I was worried about the meat bait still being attached so I ditched it for another boilie with paste. With 20 minutes left a determined Chub eventually snared itself and no more bites materialised.

I'm sure if I scaled down the gear, put the bait tight to the hook I'd have landed quite a few Chub, but I hate using Barbel gear for Chub, I'd rather not catch them and if I do, on my terms. So on to the next session, later on in fact, this time and hour in to dark hopefully at a section on the Avon that I can so that without breaking the rules.

With a little rain on the way I'm hoping that there might be a little pace in the water as I fancy trying some rolling meat as some of the swims are ideal for it. A moving bait is often need for success rather than failure and having using the technique before a few times, it's well worth a try me thinks. 

Warwickshire Avon – Koftas and Kainotophobias

In years gone by the preventative hangover cure for a night on the sauce used to be a visit to the local basic hygiene avoider for a kebab of epic proportions. The size of a small child it cured every hangover ever, even future ones and gave me the athletic physique I maintain to this day.

So a chilli naan bread, in which was crammed with shish kebab meat, 1 skewer of chicken and one of lamb,then a heavily spiced lamb kofta and for good measure layers of unidentifiable doner meat in draft excluding quantities. Then over which went pickled red cabbage, raw white cabbage, sliced tomato with raw carrot and lettuce thrown in.

The sauce well, copious amounts of their secret homemade chilli sauce, which to be honest I’d not had better since, a mere smattering of mint sauce complimented the hot sauce and spicy meat and then, when folded completed the life time of memories, the morning stools of brontosaurus proportions.

To be honest, I’m sure as someone with cast iron guts, the above contributed to them almost exclusively, it must be. 

As I cannot remember when the last time I’ve had food poisoning or a dodgy tummy, I’m sure one’s digestive system must have reveled in the weekly overload, like a body builder does lifting iron, a jogger doing the miles.

Heck, ones gastrointestinal tract so resilient it's nearly getting to that stage that I could even book a cheapo holiday to Egypt if needs dictate….

Even 2 plastic bags were required not just the one for transporting the lunker, you see, anything smaller or anything that didn’t compare just wouldn’t do.

A bag of chips and a battered sausage wouldn’t cut it, a KFC bargain bucket ridiculously expensive, a Pizza PPppfffffffftttttttt !!!!! too sloppy, too hit and miss.

It, for me anyway, was the perfect end to the night, well unless the lucky lady, whenever there was one, put her hand out with a side plate, there was a compromise to be had somewhere, I’ve always been one to share.

Now flash a huge piece of meat in front of a Barbel that’s used to pellets, boilies and particles is enough at least for a double take. Even in clear summer conditions it's worth putting out a huge lump of meat because they find it difficult to turn down. I’ve used big baits for big Barbel in the past having had to fish huge hard pellets meant for catfish and long hairs to avoid the Chub that had a habit of causing swim carnage on the short sessions I fish. A Poka-Yoke rig was devised with some success however eventually the Chub would eventually hang themselves such the persistence.

For this short in to dusk session the swim would easy accommodate two rods, so it was a boilie and a paste wrap on one rod with a PVA bag of freebies, and the other, a quarter of a tin of Spam.

There are Barbel here in numbers usually, but with limited time I’d rather try and catch a bigger fish than a splasher and I was hoping the gobstopper would be a bit more selective.

The beauty of the Poka-Yoke rig was that the Chub couldn’t pull the bait from the hair which is a little easier to do with a soft bit of meat, hence the boilie bait on the other rod. When the light goes I hate messing with rigs, less messing the better, so sit back, ignore the knocks and bangs and wait for the rod to go properly over.

So the session, well I wasn’t expecting much as the early morning journey in to work a bong sounded on the car and it was a low temperature warning, yeap 4 degrees !!!!,so a big drop in temperature could well have put the fish off, particularly the Barbel that sulk for a while before they get used to it.

It usually takes me 10 minutes to pull in to the clubs car park, but an issue on the local roads and a short cut down the back roads was scuppered by some gas works that would take 3 months to sort, so I had to take a big detour, but eventually I was swimward. I had an hour before official dusk and had a walk along the bank to pick a swim. The swim I chose had a lovely channel to my left and one to my right, both boarded with streamer weed. There was a reasonable depth too, especially the right swim.

So both baits went out and it was settle down time. Half an hour in with the chunk of meat on the left rod, a few tentative pulls eventually turned in to pull that continued towards the water, yeap a Barbel had taken the spam. I don't fish for Barbel that often and not sure why not because this fish was giving me a bit of a run around. I thought it was stuck solid in some streamer weed at one point but luckily it came free.

A powerful run indeed and I've forgotten just how well they pull. Eventually landed it was a lovely mint condition fish. Despite the fight it gave it didn't take long to recover in the landing net either, it was clearly ready to go quite quick which was encouraging. With the fish put back, I recast both rods with another PVA bag attached to the boilie rod.

So 15 minutes past official dusk it was time to go, oddly no real knocks or bangs on the boilie rod for the whole session, but just goes to show, right time, right place with a bait you've confidence in, is all you need to catch a Barbel. 

Warwickshire Avon – Glassbacks and Glory Holes

Seventy-five years ago, in April 1943, the research chemist Albert Hofmann did something distinctly out of scientific character. Impelled by what he later called a “peculiar presentiment”, he resolved to take a second look at the 25th in a series of molecules derived from the ergot fungus, a drug he had discovered some years earlier and dismissed as of no scientific interest.

As he synthesised it for the second time, it made contact with his skin, giving rise to an unprecedented experience: a “stream of fantastic pictures and extraordinary shapes with intense, kaleidoscopic play of colours”.

Five days later, on 19 April, he decided to test the chemical on himself under controlled conditions, thus becoming the first person in history knowingly to embark on an acid trip.

Now talking of temporary altered state of consciousness which after all an acid trip is, there is no need for drugs, because after some serious amount of Tryptophan ingested because of the byproduct of consuming large amounts of heart attack inducing stilton cheese, I was having another one of those lucid dreams I experience from time to time. This dream featured a Barbel of gargantuan proportions which was hiding in a out of sight hole only reachable via a tube slide portal which ultimately dictated this fishing session.

You see after suffering a bad back of late due to my ridiculous notion that I could still do the things I used to do when I was a lot younger, port and cheese is one of those comfort foods that gets one mind off it. Not only that but on holiday I stupidly wore flipflops when barbecuing and some embers from the coals spat out and blistered a couple of toes on my right food, as I type this the wound is still open and not yet dried out as it keeps on being rubbed by my shoe. So another annoyance and slight hindrance to go with my bad back. 

As a roving angler I needed to get my back in-particular sorted pretty quick and having suffered sciatica quite bad for a good 6 mths, I needed to get things moving pretty sharpish. Exercise and keeping on the move is the key I found.

So before I’d venture to an area I can fish in to dark, this was double dipping session down an area I’ve grown to love, not only was I after Chevin, I’d also try for a Barbel at last knockings.  

Now the infamous Albuttbarbelbutt was spotted down here by someone likeminded and despite him trying to catch it over a few sessions he went home with this tail between his legs. Although Barbel are relatively easy to catch the big’uns don’t reach that size for a reason, they are generally a little wiser than the plebeians. 

I’ve certainly found in my experience dusk and an hour beyond is the best time for big barbel. I don’t fish for them that often, but when I do, my time must count.

I’d rather not sit behind motionless rods, but rock up for a session when times and conditions bites should in theory be more forthcoming. 

As you know by reading this blog of mine that I plan sessions meticulously usually. So the plan, bait 3 swims with hemp, dead maggots, a few pellets and broken boilies via a dropper, leave it to rest for a while then eventually return and drop in a hook bait for 20 minutes before moving on to the next swim.

The first swim has a large undercut with a nice flow, the second, a wide sweeping bend over gravel, and the third, a deep swim with a hole opposite some stupidly thick cover. The third swim I’d add a little more bait as I’d fish that last before heading home at dusk.

Whilst the swims were resting it was out with the lure rod rigged with a Duo Realis Shinmushi to fish some of the swims that have been producing some nice Chub of late. The problem is you see maybe they’ve worked me out, as they are certainly more difficult to catch on floating bread over the last couple of sessions.

“Oh look it’s him again, ignore the bread for a while chaps”

The floating lure has produced some nice fish in the past and offers something a little different to fish that have become cagey, after not only being caught by swallowing a load of dough, but by their friends telling them to stay off the mighty white before the all clear is given. Fishing is all about confidence and the bread isn’t quite doing it as the minute, so some thinking outside the box a little can get captures back on track.

The beauty of the floating lure I’ve found is that unlike the bread in which the majority of the times you need to feed some freebies to get them feeding confidently, with the lure just one or two drifts down gets the inquisitive Chub coming not for a nudging session but a nailing. They usually give it to the lure properly like Chub evidently do when they feed confidently, they are proper Jekyll and Hyde species remember.

The bi-polar sufferer of the cyprinidaes….

Barbel on the other hand when they get their heads down feeding nothing is going to get them off snaffling the hemp. That’s when they are easy to catch, present a bait over the top of the Smörgåsbord invariably you’d get a take pretty quick. So with the buffet down I’d stealthily drop a ASP Wafter on a long hooklink to try and induce a take from at least one of the three of the baited swims.

The problem with this area is that I’ve not seen hide nor hair of a Barbus since I’ve been fishing it in the new season. Usually I’d spot one or two in the shallows, but none so far which is worrying. I’m sure they are still here, but there are so many nooks and crannies here, that they might well be tucked up out the way without you knowing despite being feet from them. Also the lack of sightings could well mean the likelihood of a lunking lurker.

As per usual I had the stretch to myself, so the feed went in via the dropper in the three swims to target then I fished a few swims with the lure rod. It was very quite indeed with no interest in the lure at all, well until a return back up the stretch to start fishing the baited swims I saw a fish top in a swim shaded by a big willow.

After a few drifts and retrieves down of the lure eventually a Chub came up for an inquiry. This happened a few times till it got bored and the swim went quite. They don't mess around Chevin if they really want something, as the lure has enough hooks on it to hold if it did. Hmmmm, not good.

So the lure rod went away and it was back to the baited swims, a small Chublet took the wafter hookbait quite quickly in the first swim which then went dead. Not even a knock in the second swim and the third, despite fishing in to dusk and half an hour after, no proper bites were forthcoming. So a disappointing session to be honest. The river is still horrendously low but the next session in a couple of days I might venture to a stretch where I know Barbel usually are in residence.

The water temperature is ideal so they should be biting, but as I suspect well in to dark is probably the best chance of a big'un so I might next week venture over to an area I can do just that.