This week has been a difficult week all round. A week off work and I only made it to the bank at weekend. A trip to Monte Carlo for Hazel meant I had the enviable job of full time single parent, cook, cleaner , taxi driver, washer and ironer. However I had a cunning plan. Take the kids to school and get on the Meddy every day for six hours before picking them up, then catch up on the housework on Friday before picking her up from Liverpool airport in the evening. Superb, what could go wrong....Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday saw rain all day and the river was unfishable, murky and roaring through. Then Thursday the tickets for the England v Spain clash in November went on sale at midday and to guarantee family stand tickets, which saves us £95 as a family, you have to be quick. Then the final nail in the coffin to my best laid plans arrived by email from the FA. Tickets for the newly announced Sweden match at Wembley were on sale on Friday at midday. So that was that. No fishing all week.
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.
I set up on the swim that inspired me to start blogging on New years day this year on a sliding feeder set up. I favour the medium 20g Kamasan black cap feeders at the moment, running free on the 6lb Trilene sensation main line down to a leger stop. A couple of inches below I use a small swivel to attach a hooklength of about 15 inches of Preston Power Reflo 0.13 (4lb 12 oz). My current hook of choice is a Kamasan B911, opting for a size 18 as the fish go big in this river, and the big trout are a dab hand at shaking out the smaller hooks.
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.
I did manage another fish, a smaller trout, but today I missed a few bites, probably due to my rustiness through prolonged absence.
Now time was rolling on, and I had a dilemma. The bites were coming thick and fast, but the circling police helicopter above reminded me I was getting closer and closer to kick off time at the Etihad stadium less than a mile away. City were playing Villa and the kids have season tickets and Hazel and I share an adult one. Bearing in mind I rarely get a Saturday off should I carry on fishing as I think the fish will bite all day, or take the opportunity to watch City in a game that might prove fruitful. The choice was difficult, and proved to be one of those one more cast scenarios. My last cast saw me hit a thumping bite, which by the measure of the bend in the rod before I even touched it was a huge fish. After near on five minutes of pressure to guide the fish away from the branches it decided to show itself. It was a huge trout, easily upward of 4lb. The fish tailwalked up the swim to my amazement then seemed to be on the way to the landing net. As I scooped the net toward what would have been my best ever brownie it took one last hopeful lunge toward freedom. Some you win, some you lose! That was the signal to head off home for the kids and get to the match.
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.
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