After a month off the bank, while a) I wondered why I seemed to have acquired a permanent stomach ache and b) I digested, ho ho, after a bit of experimenting with food groups, the implications of excluding gluten from my diet (who'd have guessed you have to forego beer as well as bread) I dusted the kit off today and had a couple of hours on the Old Lake. The promised 9c felt more like 5, and the wind was thin. With just the bailiff on the lake, I chose a peg with my back to it.
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Neither of us - that's me and the lake - was fishing very well, and nothing showed an interest in the various amounts of hemp, caster and corn fed into my two lines. After an hour of making small and mostly ineffective adjustments, a few roach turned up
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And at 3pm, two hours in, this little tench was welcome. Just after, there was a near miss with a bigger tench; not many come off the hook, so that felt a bit unlucky.
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I was expecting a run of fish for the last hour, but the bites faded away and the fish drifted off. Still. it certainly beats sitting inside reading food labels, and I was happy to catch a few, rusty as I was.
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I was just packing up when the bailiff walked round and suggested I might catch better roach on wheat. He's witty like that.