In complete contrast to last year, 2002 had started off with low water levels in the Staffordshire rivers that I frequent in my search for chub and barbel. Couple this with almost ice-age conditions and even the hardiest (daftest?) of anglers were venturing out.
My last trip out had been with fellow FISHINGmagic member Paul ‘Brummy’ Williams on the Sow during the Christmas festive break. It was cold, ice in the margins stuff, that saw just one bite from a solitary chub that ended up as an afternoon snack for a large Esox that just sat under the ice by my feet. Still, it was good to see Paul again and put the worlds to rights, even if the fishing was slow.
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After finishing work on the Friday lunchtime I dropped my four-year-old off at school and set off for the Dove. It had rained steadily for most of the night, so conditions were going to be perfect. In fact I had woken at 3.45am excited at the prospect of a barbel – funny how that still happens after all these years fishing!
As I left Uttoxeter to join the A50 a couple of miles from the river I got a call on the mobile from a private number…….could it be Stu Johnson calling from work to say he had managed to arrange a meeting in Staffs and would be joining me. No, it was the school.
“Can you pick Shane up Mr. Johnson, he’s been sick everywhere.”
So, the marinated meat went back into the fridge and we spent the afternoon with a bowl on our knees watching Jurassic Park 3 with the smell of Dettol in the air.
It rained all day Saturday and most of Saturday night as well, flood warnings were being issued, the Trent that runs past my cul-de-sac was over the banks, and then the wife said “why don’t you go fishing tomorrow and snap out of that miserable mood.”
I didn’t need asking twice!
I sent a text off to Jason ‘the bream’ Saturday night asking if he fancied a session on the Dove and then opened the wine up and drifted off, setting my mind on which, if any, pegs would be fishable, while Zo
