However I picked up some maggots from Ashton angling supplies ready for Saturday and I was determined to spend Saturday doing what I wanted, whatever the weather or circumstances. So after a quick breakfast at the Yummie box by the Haddon Hall pub it was down to the Vale, and on to the peg that the whole blog began on. The river had really fined down nicely after the five day deluge and looked as good as I have seen it this year. The first picture looks upstream from the Bay Horse bridge, the second downstream.
The first hour saw me cast and recast to build up the bait on the river bottom against an overhanging raft on the far bank. I tend to find that the bites take time to come but when the fish are on your bait, they stay there as long as you can steer the hooked fish away from the trees with minimal fuss. Today was no exception and after an hour of dropping the feeder as near as I could to the branches the tip walloped round. No need to strike with any pressure this time as the tip and the rod were bending round. I was into a decent fish. Immediately I could tell it was a chub as the fight was more measured than the huge trout that frequent these parts. After a good scrap the fish was netted, and judging by the lump out of its back, this was a minor scrap in its recent life. Any ideas on what might have caused that wound would interest me greatly.
What a cracking chub for a small inner city stream. I never stop wondering what this beautiful stretch of river will throw up next. The scene was set and could I follow it up. Well the bites came soon and the next fish was a lovely lean brown trout which gave a fantastic account of itself. As with the chub it headed straight under the barrage on the opposite bank, however I managed to steer it into open water quickly.
Great choice as it turned out. Fantasy football these days at City, with players that play the style of football we could only dream of watching not five years ago.
The choice was a great one as it turned out. A 4-1 win and some sumptuous football, brought a tear to my eye at one point, as I remembered the fruitless visits in the wilderness years to such places as Huddersfield, Notts county and many more. After dropping the kids home I decided to round a fine day off indulging in my other passion. I popped round to the Bush Inn for a few pints of Thwaites wainwright, a golden real ale that has become a real favourite these days. What better way to celebrate City going top of the league. I have to pinch myself on days like these. I may live in a big city, but why would I want to choose anywhere else to live. A fantastic chub river, Fantasy football, and Fine real ale, all within walking distance. A great end to a memorable day.