Well it finally looks like the last dregs of winter are finally departing our shores and with spring all but arrived we can finally look forward to more favorable conditions and hopefully a spring whacker!

All being well my season starts this Friday and I shall be heading back to an old stomping ground for a quick night before my new ticket starts, saying that I can see me doing a bit on the Big Pit this year - the linear that I dream of is piling on the weight, who knows how big she will be next time she visits the bank!

With that in mind I have been reading through my "Chasing Myths" archives and have come across a small piece which I wrote a couple of years ago whilst having a dabble on the Big Pit, I have copied it below in case you may of missed it or fancy reading it again.

Im off to roll some single hookbaits and hope to have some new stuff to write about this weekend, if not I shall do my best to make a blank sound interesting.

*It’s been a manic few weeks with one thing and another so didn’t get a chance to write the last instalment so I will carry on from where I left off.

Following another terrible week at work I was keen to get down the Pit and let off some steam so was over the moon when 5pm finally rolled around and I could point the van in the direction of the Pit.

I must have been driving like a man possessed as I made the journey in record time and was soon pulling into the fishery gates.

My frown soon turned to a smile as I saw the swim that I had been successful in and had primed for weeks was vacant and as an added bonus the wind was hacking through a channel right on top of my spots.

I couldn’t load the barrow quick enough but after what seemed like an eternity [but was probably only a few minutes] I was standing in the swim and feeling confident.

I went and sat down by the margin, rolled a smoke and watched the water for a few minutes, during a break in the wind I could just about make out some coloured water and some fizzing tight to the overhanging bush which I had landed the miracle common from the previous session, that was enough for me to go on!

I quickly put a rod together but instead of my usual naked chod I opted for a solid bag presentation with a XXX dumbbell on the hair and filled the bag with snails, active feast and pellet, I was hoping this would keep them grubbing about a bit longer.

I didn’t bother casting to the spot and clipping up, I knew the spot well and fancied my chances so the solid bag was cast straight out and just brushed the branches as it hit the water, bang on the money!

The other two rods were fished on naked chods baited with XXX corkballs and cast out to their normal spots at the bottom of the marginal shelf tight to the Island.

With the rods sorted I put the kettle on for a well-earned brew as I felt I had done all I could and would just have to wait for the outcome, I also decided not to introduce any bait over the chods until it got dark in an attempt to avoid a repeat of the last session when the swans noted me baiting up and became a nuisance throughout the duration of my stay.

I sat on the bedchair watching the water for an hour or so when eventually the light faded enough for me to safely bait up so I introduced a couple of kg of XXX over the two chod rods using the catty.

The mozzies were turning into a complete nightmare, more than usual and whilst sat listening to the radio at about 11pm I felt a sudden surge of pain in my lip so punched myself in the face as you do to try and stop whatever was the culprit, however all I was left with was a swollen face and resembled Shrek.

I sat up until about 1am listening for anything that might be moving in front of me, but other than a few maybes the swim seemed quiet so I eventually gave in to my heavy lids and climbed into the sleeping bag for some shut eye, pulling the sleeping bag over my head in the process to try and stave off my blood sucking friends.

The next thing I remember is being rudely awoken by “BANG BANG BANG, WOOF WOOF!!” I opened my eyes in the half-light to see a flock of geese looking cagey and on edge, pleased the world wasn’t ending I fired up the coleman for a brew and whilst taking the first sip I remembered it was Sept 1st and start of the Duck/Goose shooting season – Normally I would have been out there with them but with no land permissions at present my shotgun is firmly locked up in the cabinet.

The morning past quickly whilst I chain drank coffee, but bite time came and went and so did my chance as the sun climbed higher in the sky and the temperature rose.

I had to be off by late morning as I had promised the wife I would be home, everything was packed away with just the rods left on the floor but eventually I gave in, chucked the rods on the barrow and made my way back to the van about two hours later than planned, I knew she would understand!

I headed for home dreading the following week at work but knew once it was all over I would be returning the following Saturday for some more therapy and a good social with Pete who I managed to arrange a guest ticket for.

As expected the week was dragging, on Tuesday evening I gave Pete a call to see if he fancied a walk round the Pit to do some marker work and a bit of a reconnaissance which he quickly agreed to.

My van was off the road on the Wednesday having some paint work done so Pete came and picked me up then we shot straight down the Pit (via the chip shop!).

Once down there we began our walk round in a lucky anti clockwise fashion, we had only walked about 200 yards when I saw a fish show out the corner of my eye in the “Sticks”, we stopped and watched the water only for it to roll again 10 yards further up the Island margin.

So out came the marker rod, I wanted to see what it was showing over and it soon became apparent that it was a silty channel 8ft in depth before becoming much shallower and onto a plateau which was then only 3.5 feet pretty much all the way back to bank.

After that we carried on round the lake having a chuck with the marker anywhere that looked the slightest bit carpy whilst talking excitedly about the weekend, that chat continued all the way home and in the pub over several beers which I felt slightly worse the wear for the following morning!

The next couple of days were spent aimlessly staring out of the office window praying for my freedom and eventually it came in the form of 5pm Friday afternoon.

I shot home to prepare the gear for the following morning and then spent the rest of the evening wearing a trench in the living room carpet whilst pacing up and down waiting for bedtime!

I was awake early so put the camera gear in the van and had a quick coffee before giving the kids and wife a cuddle and telling them I would see them soon, with my eldest shouting “catch one bigger than me daddy as I walked out of the door”.

I quite enjoyed the drive down the lake, the music was blaring out whilst I tackled the quiet country roads and before I knew it I was in paradise.

I parked the van up, grabbed a bucket and quickly walked round the lake to where the fish had showed a few days previously, once in the swim I sat on the bucket and rolled a smoke to see if anything occurred.

I had only been sat there 20 minutes when I noticed some fizzing bang on the spot I had seen the fish show on my reconnaissance mission so I jumped off the bucket and ran back to the van to get the rest of the kit.

The weather forecast had told me it was going to be a scorcher and for once they had got it spot on, it was getting hotter by the minute.

My head was telling me to cast out but my heart was telling me to rest the swim, naturally I went with my heart as my head usually has a tumble weed rolling around in it.

I set up the Titan to provide a bit of shade, laid out the bedchair and then fired up the coleman for a brew whilst I had a think about what to do.

I decided to bait up lightly around the Island margin and also another spot close in which I found then rest the swim for the day, only casting out once Pete had arrived so with that took my time setting up the rods.

The left hand rod would be fished 20 yards out in a solid bag of Live System Pellet and a matching 15mm hookbait, the other two rods were going to be fished in the channel close to the Island.

Once the rods were set up I found the spots with a bare lead then clipped up, removed the lead and attached a mini spomb to introduce a small amount of bait, once I had finished it was just a case of clipping the lead and rig on and propping them up against the Titan for the rest of the day whilst I gathered my thoughts.

The afternoon passed quite quickly and at about 4pm I took a stroll round the lake and chatted to the few anglers that were fishing, all of them sharing the same story of no luck and a few of them no luck this season. I really felt for them and hope that their run of bad luck ends soon.

It was soon 5:30pm and my phone ringing told me that Pete had arrived so I made the walk down to the gate to let him in, he looked like a kid at Christmas and very excited to be coming back to his old haunt.

I left him to load his barrow and made my way back to the swim to finally get my rods sorted for the night which took all of 5 minutes and in fact I had already made a brew and had one waiting for Pete when he barrowed past my swim looking like he was going to collapse, so naturally he was more than grateful for the waiting beverage.

It took Pete an hour or so to get sorted next door but once he got the rods out he walked into my swim carrying a 4 pack of warm beer, but it was the thought that counted I suppose!

We spent the next few hours sat in my swim talking about next season and what we expected or more likely hoped would happen but was soon brought back to the here and the now when a good fish rolled over my right hand rod, Pete simply said “how big do you reckon it will be then?” I just said “No idea mate, we’ll find out at dawn I guess!” before we both burst out laughing.

I was having a great social and it was exactly what I needed after a few terrible weeks in my non angling life but I’m not one to moan so I will leave it there (those that know me are now laughing rather loudly and calling me a lying ba$%ard!).

After we had slowly drank our small amount of beer rations we decided to call it a night, so Pete returned next door and I sat on the bedchair for one last smoke and coffee then set my alarm for 3am so I could listen for a little while then got into the bag and soon drifted off.

The next thing I recall is the alarm on my phone going off at a deafening level so quickly turned it off, answered the call of nature, popped the kettle on and rolled smoke.

There was a heavy mist all around the lake and an eerie quietness all around me, I was sat there for a good half an hour when I eventually heard a fish roll somewhere out in front of me, I couldn’t be sure exactly where but it sounded very close to my right hand rod.

I had another smoke and sat there a little longer to see if I could hear it again but nothing materialised so I climbed back in the bag at about 4am and fortunately returned into my dream where I left off but that isn’t suitable on here!

I was awake again at 6am, so did the normal ritual of rolling a smoke and putting the kettle on, there was a heavy mist all around me and I could barely see a few feet in front of my face but there was very carpy atmosphere, it was electric!

I was just lighting the coleman to have a brew and savour the scene when I heard a few bleeps come from my right hand Neville, I turned around just in time to see the tip wrap round so lifted into the fish instantly before it even had a chance to take any line.*

*The fish must have been just as shocked as I was to the action as other than a hairy moment in a weed bed I pretty much led the culprit to the waiting net like a dog on a lead and was half expecting a red eyed monster to be the culprit, so was made up to see the scale pattern of an immaculate common glistening in the early morning sunlight.

I secured the fish in the edge then went and woke Pete to do the honours with the camera, fortunately the mist cleared enough for us to get some good pictures which as per normal Pete did superbly, we weighed the old warrior in at 24 lb 15 oz which we were both shocked at because the frame of the fish seemed a lot bigger but she just felt empty then we slipped her back to her watery home safely to fight another day.

I was absolutely made up but bloody thirsty so had the first brew of the day and it was good! After caffeinating myself I got the rod back out onto the spot hoping for another and spent the next few hours hovering over the rods but unfortunately the Nevilles remained silent for the rest of the session.

We reluctantly packed up late morning before the sun got too hot and I am glad we did as I was dripping from head to foot during the barrow journey back to the van!

So with that we loaded the vans and headed for home, well I did – Pete has got a week off work so shot straight down to the Ouse Valley for a week on the bank the jammy sod!

I’m not sure if I shall manage to get out next week due to it being my youngest’s 1st birthday but you can rest assured that I shall be out the following week hoping to out wit yet another mythical creature.

Until then,

Smithy*

Whilst lying here on Christmas Day letting the heavy load of one of the biggest Christmas dinner's imaginable settle into my already fully laden stomach I began reminiscing about seasons gone by.

This season for me has been pretty much of a write off, I haven't had my head in it for most of the year and my results have suffered for it, then to add salt to my wounds the little syndicate I am a member off suffered a severe Otter attack.

The remains of several of the "A Team" have been found on the Islands, others could have been dragged away so nobody is sure what remains in the little magical water - what motivation I had left has been pretty much destroyed.

So looking back at years gone by I have been able to take comfort from some of my sessions and one in paticular sticks in my mind, I have written about it before but in case you have missed it you can have a read about it below, I hope it gets your heart going as it did mine a little while ago whilst reading back through my diarys.

It was August 2010 and after battling the traffic to get to my intimate syndicate before it was stitched up - I eventually arrived at 4pm and with the car park soon filling up I grabbed a bucket out of the van and did a quick lap of the lake and whilst standing in the “Trees” I saw a good fish crash out at about 30 yards range “that’ll do I thought!” I dropped my bucket to claim the swim then jogged back to the van to fetch the rest of my kit.

Within minutes I was back in the swim sweating in the afternoon heat, fortunately the “Trees” offered some sanctuary from the sweltering sun and after a quick drink I managed to get my rods sorted for the night ahead.

I placed one of my baits by hand with a good scattering of hemp over the top, the other two were put on proven areas with the ever faithful "Ninja Rigs", all 3 were baited with black tiger nuts if my memory serves me right.

The next few hours were spent sat under a tree enjoying a coffee and soaking up the atmosphere, it was about 7pm when Pete unexpectedly turned up and after standing in my swim for a good 15 minutes he decided to jump in the swim next door for a social as the rest of the lake was now full.

Just as he was walking back past me towards his car a good fish rolled between our two swims - we both froze and looked at each other and I said to him “You want to hurry up mate or I am going to get a rod on that!” his walk soon turned to a quick sprint and within a few minutes he was barrowing through my swim at speed nearly knocking me into the margins in the process.

Once he had got his rods sorted we put our chairs between the swims and set the stall out for a good social and with a Chinese banquet being delivered to our swim life seemed very good.

After eating much more than we probably should have we sat up late into the night discussing anything and everything Carp related, before moving on and moaning about why we had to spend 5 days a week at work both threatening to become part timers.......the mood soon lifted though when the liners started and the fish started rolling in huge numbers over both of our swims, we both felt that it wasn't a matter of if but when we will get a take!

The liners continued all night, my sleep was restless to say in the least and a few times I jumped out of the bag and straight onto the rods thinking it was going to rattle off!

I eventually gave up on the idea of sleep at about 4am and rolled out of the bag and fired up the Coleman before going and sitting by the rods

Dawn soon arrived and I was treated to a stunning sunrise, the kind that makes you realise just how lucky we as anglers are to experience these on a regular basis and with the area I had baited with hemp resembled a Jacuzzi – I actually felt like I was in Heaven!

There was fish everywhere, I scratched my head wondering why I hadn't had a take in the night, I just couldn't understand it, the only conclusion that I could come up with was that I had been “done” in the night and one of the aggressive liners was actually an aborted take.

I heard Pete’s alarm go into melt down at about 07:30am but unfortunately it resulted in him losing a good fish in the weed, I felt absolutely gutted for him......so much so that I got him to make me a Bacon roll which he reluctantly agreed too!

It was about mid-morning when I noticed a few fish starting to mooch about on the surface, I didn't have any floater gear with me at all so begged all the bits and bobs I needed off Pete, including some 3mm floating pellets that he had stashed in the bottom of his rucksack.

Within minutes I had managed to get the smaller carp feeding quite confidently close in, then typically just before I was about to introduce a hook bait the seagulls turned up and spooked them off whilst smashing the water to foam – great!

I spat my dummy out and just chucked the hook bait out somewhere into the lake, just after I heard a voice "you floater fishing bud?" it was Ian "dirtydog" Brown, "I'm trying, but I've had enough, the bloody seagulls have ruined any chance I had" I mumbled. Ian said "Come on,we will get them going bud!" in his normally chirpy tone.

Ian pulled out a tub of what he referred to as his "magic mixers", they were about 8mm the same size I normally use (if I had brought them!), these were perfect as they could be catapulted further to where the bigger fish were showing just past the Island, Ian flicked single mixers out one by one for probably an hour, we both sat eyes fixed to the water, they were certainly getting a taste for them so I introduced a hook bait, seconds later I had a decent take but pulled out of it, 3 1/4 TC Torrix`s are really not built for floater fishing!

Ian started flicking baits out again then I introduced a hook bait. it didn't take long for the bait to disappear and as I struck there was a huge explosion as what was obviously a good fish tried to dig itself into the nearest weed bed, I applied as much pressure as I dared but it was soon stuck solid in the middle of the lake - Pete appeared behind me,he had watched the action unfold from up a tree so quickly wound his rods in to give assistance, I didn't even need to ask him.....he just said "I will go and get my waders!".

As soon as Pete had returned he helped me get my waders on whilst I kept pressure on the fish then we waded out to the Island all whilst Brownie began documenting the fight with my SLR, within a minute we were both safely on the Island and with a bit of persuasion I managed to get the fish moving briefly before it weeded itself up once again,this continued for a good 20 minutes....my Torrix was at full battle curve and all the while I was expecting the rod to spring back with line hanging limp from the tip but luck was on my side and inch by inch I managed to get the leviathan towards the bank – time stood still for a few seconds and in a dream like state of mind the fish and half a tonne of weed was expertly netted by Pete, we both knew at this point that it was "The Snub Nose Mirror" as Pete had caught it a few months previous, I actually photographed it for him and said I would love to catch her one day, now it was my turn and I was chuffed to bits!

We both waded back to the bank feeling like heroes that had won a battle - Pete carried the fish as I was still sweating from the fight and gasping for my breath!

She behaved like a perfect lady on the bank and we weighed her at 31.08, the photographs were soon done and she was safely returned to her watery home.

Pete left me to compose myself and went back to his swim to flick a couple of baits out for the last few hours and within 20 minutes I heard his alarm screaming for attention as he hooked into another powerful fish but again he lost it in the weed......I really felt gutted for him now, losing a fish is never nice but two on the bounce is awful!

Despite Pete’s unfortunate lost fish, it was an awesome session and one I shall most definitely remember for the rest of my life – writing about it now has made me all excited as the memories come flooding back.

I had a weakness at the time in the form of my floater fishing as I was never patient enough and gave in too easily however after a brief lesson with the “Master of the Art” I found myself cradling a new floater PB.

To share that kind of memory with friends is very special and I hope to repeat it one day.

Until next time,

Smithy

Well, what can I say - I have taken somewhat longer than I would have liked to have done to finally put pen to paper!

With one thing and another writing has unfortunately taken a back seat and what little time I have managed to find naturally I have spent on the bank chasing leviathans.

Looking back through my ramblings, I pretty much carried on from where I left off - several more quick overnighters on Raptor which all ended with the same sorry story. It was during one of these that a mate I was with asked if I fancied a change the following week and head down Oxford way to fish a busy day ticket water neither of us had fished in over 6 years.

Now, anybody who follows this blog on a regular basis will know that this type of venue really isn't my cup of tea - much preferring to blank for weeks or even months on end but getting a bit of peace in the process, however with the last few months that I had endured I thought getting a bend in the wands may just put a smile on my face so agreed I would meet him there at dawn the following Sunday.

The week seemed to pass in somewhat of a haze, I had a wedding to shoot on the Saturday and didn't get home till late, exhausted I still managed to sort the gear out and chuck it in the van before retiring to bed sometime after midnight.

The alarm was set for 04:30am and I soon drifted off into a deep carp filled dream but when the alarm sounded to wake me from my slumber it felt like I had only been asleep a few minutes, after peeling my eyelids open with my fingers I staggered down the stairs and knocked back a mug of the good stuff - it hit the spot instantly and my caveman like stature soon changed to that of a man who was on his way dangling!

I grabbed the camera batteries which had been on charge overnight and jumped in the van pointing it towards Oxford, the journey passed in a blink of an eye and I was soon driving up the track towards the lake - however my keeness soon turned to dismay when I looked out of the van window to see the little lake absolutely rammed with anglers, I couldn't see a space anywhere!

Nethertheless I carried onto the hut and purchased my ticket determined that I would manage to wet a line! On my way back down to the lake I met my mate driving up towards the hut, he looked as shocked as I did - but agreed that we weren't going to waste a journey!

With both of our tickets purchased we loaded our barrows and made our way round the lake, we were 2/3 of the way round and still hadn't come across a free swim let alone 2! Eventually right at the far end of the lake we came across a small bay no more than 1/2 acre and it was separated to the rest of the lake by a small island - with only one swim in it and the only swim available on the lake we had no choice but to jump in there for the day and double up.

My mate noticed some fizzing down to the left of the swim so naturally he called for the left hand side of the swim, he had seen the signs so I said go for it!

With me taking command of the right hand side of the swim I stood and observed the water for a few minutes to see what I had to play with, the features were obvious - the island!

It didn't take me long to get two rods rigged up with 2oz inline leads, simple knotless knotted rigs of about 7 inches in length and a simple 15mm Odyssey XXX hookbait which was apple cored - I then simply made up a PVA bag the size of a tangerine with XXX chops nicked it onto the hook then flicked both rods towards the island margin with as little disturbance as I could.

I had just sat down and was about to fire up the coleman when the right hand rod signaled a stuttery take, I was on it in a flash and after a brief scrap I was pulling a nice low double common over the net cord whilst giggling saying to my mate "we're going to haul today!".

With the pictures done and the fish safely returned I rebaited the rod and got it back out on the spot that produced the take before sitting down and attempting to put the kettle on once again!

I had on just taken a sip out of the mug when my left hand rod signaled a take, once again I was on it in a flash - this fish was hell bent on getting away and scrapped like a demon, I was just getting the better of him when I felt that dreaded hookpull that we all fear - I threw the rod into the bushes behind me sat down and rolled a smoke and didn't speak for a good 10 minutes before eventually turning round to my mate and saying "Dude, that was a proper salmon" we both had a chuckle and I retrieved the rod from the bushes before once again rebaiting it with an apple cored XXX hookbait and chucking it back out on the spot.

After the lost fish the small bay seemed to die a sudden death, the hours passed and we hadn't seen a single show, not so much as a fart bubble but eventually about 5pm we began to see the odd show near my right hand rod.

Still the time passed by and the Neville hadn't made a sound then out of the blue one of mateys rods rattled off, we hadn't seen a single show on his side since the bubbling when we first walked into the swim!

The fish was landed, photographed and returned with no drama at all, we had just sat down again to drink our umpteenth brew of the day when my right hand rod finally signaled another take - I was on it before the Neville barely had a chance to make a noise, took control and had the small common in the net in less than a minute - Smithy 2 Carp 1!

After returning the little critter I got the rod back out on the spot knowing that I had to be packed up shortly and with more and more shows by the minute I was determined to bank another before calling it a day.

I was just about to throw in the towel when the left hand rod went into meltdown, the fish put up a great account of itself and I have to admit I was slightly shocked when I pulled it over the net cord to see a upper double looking back at me I was fully expecting to see something of slightly larger proportions but still I was chuffed to bits and after a few photographs I returned her to her home and then set about returning to mine.

After the bit of fun on the little lake I was keen to return to Raptor and put my wits against the big leviathans but try as I might the quick overnighter the following weekend proved fruitless and once again I left scratching my head.

On the way home I called into the Park Lake that I had fished on a few short day sessions the winter before, somehow I managed to drive out of the gate with a ticket in my hand, I had only gone for a walk but the lake full of myths managed to pull me back for a night!

A quick phone call to my media shy mate saw me meeting him down the lake a few nights later, after a quick walk round he too left with a new ticket in his hand - such is the draw of the stunning lake I think most people find it hard to resist, the only downside of course is the hoards of people walking round the lake during the daylight hours however when the darkness falls the lake takes on its own personality as we were soon to find out.

I normally fish Friday nights but I agreed with my mate I would fish the Saturday night with him for a bit of a social and just to get a feeling for the place, in all honesty I will only do a night or two on there this year but any information I could gather would come in handy for seasons to come.

I arrived down the lake early afternoon the following Saturday, it was packed full of sun seekers running around screaming and shouting -I even struggled to park the van, the overflow car park was bursting at the brim!

Eventually, with the van parked up I loaded the barrow and began a circut of the lake stopping in every swim and gazing across the water hoping that something would give the game away, the barrow journey seemed long and hard - not because of the distance involved on the contrary in fact the lovely gravel paths were a joy, it was the kids, dogs and push chairs that I had to dodge every few yards that made it a chore and when I say I was ecstatic when I had got round half the lake to a swim on the end of the wind I can assure you I'm not over exaggerating!

With the gear dumped at the back of the swim I grabbed a can of the coke from the rucksack, rolled a fag and sat on a old log and watched the water for a good 15 minutes. I couldn't be 100% certain but I thought I saw a couple of very subtle rolls at range, that however was enough for me and within a few minutes I had set up my right hand rod on a chod with an Odyssey XXX corkball pop up screwed onto the "D" and whacked it out the 130 or so yards to roughly where I had seen the suspected show - then the fun began, with the wind in my face I struggled to get any bait out at that range with the stick and after half an hour of trying I succumbed to the new blisters on my hand and told myself I had done the best I could.

The left hand rod was fished with a lead clip arrangement, and after a quick flick about it was apparent that the bottom was very clean so I tied up a 6 inch knotless knot rig with a bit of silicon on the bend of the shank and threaded an apple cored extra hard 15mm Odyssey XXX bottom bait onto the hair, a mesh bag of chops was nicked on the hook and this was then chucked out 80 yards in the same direction as to where the fish showed.

I couldn't help but the notice the amount of people stopping behind me and watching, I was almost getting stage fright so put the oval up facing into the wind,threw the bedchair underneath and went and hid - after several cups of coffee and a few smokes the constant background noise of screaming kids and screaming parents seemed to blur out and I began to feel in the zone.

As the last few rays of light shone over the horizon my mate appeared after just finishing and after a quick coffee and a natter he went and chucked out a couple of chods in a swim to my left that controlled a small bay.

He appeared 15 minutes later with his mug in his hand, we sat at the front of my swim with our legs hanging down the steep bank for the next few hour - we were in complete awe of the lake, we had 50 odd acres all to ourselves and if I am honest I think we were a bit overwhelmed by it all which I am sure sounds silly but you really had to be there to know what I mean.

By 9pm the lake was pitch back, our bank was surrounded by heavy foilage and a spooky atmosphere was created all around us, you literally couldn't see you hand in front of your face,I have never known anything like it - talk soon turned to the history of the lake and the roman village that was found whilst it was being dug years ago, we really weren't doing ourselves any favors!

Just before 11pm we were just finishing our last brew before calling it a night when we heard foot steps walking very slowly up the gravel path behind us, we looked over and couldn't see a thing - the footsteps paused right behind us for a few seconds then carried on and walked away into the distance, I could actually hear my own heart pounding out of my chest and that last brew - well that turned into 2 or 3 more!

It was gone midnight when we finally called it a night, my mate left for his swim so I sat on the edge of the bedchair and had one last smoke whilst gazing out over the lake.

When I did get in the bag it didn't take me long to drift off and just as I was about to head to a hotel room with Liz Hurley I became aware of the footsteps approaching once again, half awake I grabbed hold of the storm pole which was supporting my oval and said rather boldly "Come any closer and I will stick this right up your arse"...there was a pause, then thankfully the friendly voice of my mate replied asking if I had heard that fish show, I replied no then rolled over desperate to re enter the dream where I had left off but unfortunately it wasn't to be.

I awoke at first light and if I am honest I was quite pleased when I saw a couple of rather attractive joggers going up the path behind me, their skimpy support tops took all of the spookiness out of the session and made it a distant memory for me at least,my mate however had a different story.

After making myself a brew, I wandered the short distance down the lake and found him rocking like a nutter on the edge of his bedchair, after asking if he was ok he told me that he had heard the footsteps on the hour, every hour - each time at the same pace and stopping in the exact same spot behind his swim for the same amount of time before leaving, each time he shone his head torch in the direction and couldn't see a thing. Clearly spooked he asked if I had heard anything which I simply replied no mate, slept like a log!

Then to top off his wonderful night a pike angler dropped in the swim just to his left at first light and started casting live baits all over the place, 50 acres to choose from and he went next door - absolutely mental!

After some breakfast we were both stood in my swim looking out over the water enjoying the final brew of the session when a very big fish rolled about 160 yards out, not a million miles from my right hand rod - all thoughts of packing up vanished, I ended up staying 3 hours later than planned before eventually packing up just before 11am.

To be honest, despite the ghostly going ons I was very pleased just to have seen a definite show, the lake is over 50 acres and with a guestimated stock of 60 fish I managed to get my location right.....well for one fish at least!

After packing up we had a stroll around the rest of the park to see if we could see anything else, but other than a few joggers who were nearly falling out of their tops we didn't see a thing so left for home keen to return another day.

Until next time,

Smithy