With the thought of those roach I saw last time out in my head, and no doubt the 'barbel-with-my-name on-it' in Martin's, we set off for another crack. The river was different. That's the trouble with rivers though, isn't it? Where we'd had clear water and easy fishing, now we'd coloured water and technical fishing and I just knew my roach weren't going to be as easy as I'd hoped.
Saturday, 29 September 2012
Monday, 24 September 2012
A new swim, somewhere on the river I've never fished before, and it looks good. The stretch is far shallower than expected. On a recce just a few months ago it was full of brown water and almost up to top of the banks. Now it's more like a southern chalk stream than a midland mud stream, with its crystal clarity, wafting rafts of weed, and deep, promising pools.
Tuesday, 18 September 2012
Saturday, 15 September 2012
How often do you venture out, all full of yourself, tooled up, and ready to do battle with the monsters you imagine, only to be brought down to earth with a bump? Given the brief but hectic hour we had last time out, an hour when bites from barbel came thick and fast (but actual catches were admittedly, a little lean) we thought we were in for a session from heaven, Well, at least I did. Martin was suffering a hurt knee and dented pride after a work accident in Stratford, and I know what that does to quell enthusiasm, having recently suffered in the legs department myself.
Wednesday, 12 September 2012
Last weekend Martin & I discovered what appeared to be a choice Warwickshire Avon barbel swim, but one with a hidden secret — for it it turned out to be a dustbin full of lead. How many anglers have come to the picturesque spot and failed is not hard to imagine, and how many of those anglers vow never to return again is even easier to picture, because between us we lost a lead every third cast, and were snagged on pretty much each and every one between.
Tuesday, 11 September 2012
The evening of a Friday night & Saturday morning kind of barbel and chub session, saw Martin and myself wending our merry way down the A46 to Bidford. I have an agenda where were going, but on arrival decide to pitch in a swim I have not yet fished, because it's empty, for the first time in my experience.
Wednesday, 5 September 2012
Thinking about how to throw some spice & variety into my canal fishing exploits after catching too many bream of late and not enough of what I really wanted, there really didn't seem to be very many alternatives but plug away till what I really wanted, finally turned up.
Tuesday, 4 September 2012
>My last post raised a few emailed eyebrows after asserting that the blood of eels is poisonous, so I thought I'd better explain how toxic it really is, and how it might affect anglers unfortunate to catch, as I did, eels mauled by the lions of the river, and spurting their blood all over the place
Monday, 3 September 2012
It looked the most attractive piece of barbel water imaginable. The tip of an island with a long glide of fast water to our left pouring downstream from the rock weir above us and trundling into the distance below, with a cutting to the right and its associated slack water. A typical Warwickshire Avon navigation lock. Oddly, despite its good looks and clear potential for a barbel or two, the grass beneath our feet was hardly worn through and the banks overgrown. Clearly, this was not a popular spot.