I recently discovered a lovely looking stretch of the Stour not all that far from me and, being brutally honest, it looked the sort of stretch that would never see a bailiff. I hate myself but I was tempted to gatecrash but, that said, the phone call that confirmed the ownership also confirmed the club fee was such good value that all thoughts of naughtyness vanished in a nanosecond.
Saturday morning saw me secure both club membership and a fine breakfast with a stunningly tasty filter coffee. Life was all good yet within a few, short hours it all turned round. Losing to Burnley whilst having 85 percent possession put me in the vilest of mindframes and even the current future ex Mrs H gave up on trying to convince me about the new chest freezer she wants. The single look that said "you'll be the first thing goes in it" was obviously enough. After a while, the malaise lifted and I started asking myself why the ineptitude of a bunch of overpaid pillocks should spoil my weekend. I refused to let it - I popped out and topped up with a couple of pints of reds and bronze.
I got up sharpish this morning and took the short drive to the new stretch. Arriving, I took everything I needed in one go as, although the climb down to the river was not exactly the North Face of the Eiger, I didn't want to have to do it multiple times so everything got shoved in a ruckbag and armed with a Maver Reactorlight 15/18ft float rod, a DAM closed face with 4.4lb main line, a Middy barbel trotter float carrying 5BB to a Drennan carbon chub 16 and 3.3lb trace, battle was shortly set to commence.
I fished the rod at 15ft as there were several features of interest close in and far bank that looked real fish holding spots. I planned a mobile approach to explore this new to me area and just generally enjoy myself and get life back on track.
Two bronze on the 16 and out to a far bank crease that I felt may have been caused by an underwater feature however I found the float to be completely unimpeded and to run through beautifully.
The first seven or eight casts, with accompanying loosefed maggots, produced nothing, no hint of a bite even and no chewed baits but I felt it would give so carried on.
As most of the world slumbered, around 6.30am, I was treated to the electric blue symphony. The Kingfisher in all its beauty, six inches above the river. What more can words add? I opened a flask of coffee and savoured it, life feeling good again.
I cast back out and just as the float were leaving the boily far bank patch, it shot under and I hit it, feeling resistance make its way midriver. After a dogged fight, not a heavyweight slugfest but a lively light welterweight bout, a lovely and absolutely mint conditioned roach of around 12oz was netted and I took a minute or two to survey my reward, it was new and silver and beautiful.
What better way to start the day? A mixed collection of dace, small roach and a single 8oz chub followed along with......d'ohhh....the odd minnow.
Something very large and probably a buzzard (too high up to be absolutely certain but 90% convinced) circled above and, in the far distance, I could see several deer moving.
That was really the pattern for the day. I switched swims exploring a number of areas and streams of modest sized fish followed. Dace to around 3 or 4oz, another chub edging a pound, a couple of perch around 4oz each and a few more roach up to maybe 5 or 6oz.
It was as I was starting to think about enough being enough, a five hour session on a day with a lot of other things to do, that the float buried and the first real resistance was brought up to show I wasn't going to get it all my own way although, eventually, the fish tired and only my second netter of the day turned out to be a chub pretty much on the 2lb mark.
Finishing my coffee, packing up and a short drive home and life felt a lot better than it did 24 hours earlier. I know that, compared to life in a great many other countries, we don't have a lot to stress over but it doesn't stop us trying does it??
Sitting at home, next trip out is going to be prawns (definitely) and perch (hopefully), I'm thinking about my Greys 1lb tc Specimen rod and closing my eyes imagining a huge bend in that rod and then, looking down, was that a flash of green and black? Here's hoping, all the way to next week.
Take care, all.
