It has been a month since my last entry as sadly I was unable to grace the banks during the run up to Christmas. Sadly at the beginning of December I had to rush my wife to hospital after she suffered a miscarriage – we were in and out of hospital for over a week, the days seem to last forever and almost blended into one. It was particularly upsetting as we’d been so looking forward to the 12 week scan which was due on the 10th [my birthday] but unfortunately we lost the baby at 11wks.

After we had begun to get over our unfortunate news the floods that engulfed the country took hold of my syndicate waters once again, even getting near them was impossible. Although to be honest my head was, and still is, all over the place so I threw myself into work, then later on in the month giving the family the best Christmas I could after being given some good fortune at work.

With Christmas out of the way and spending New Year’s Eve in Durham as well as New Year’s Day in the Lake District I started to get the urge to get the rods out once again and hopefully kick off the New Year in style.

After a manic 1st week back at work I set my sights on getting on the bank that Saturday, all my syndicates were still suffering pretty badly from flooding so with nowhere to go I called a few friends and one of them told me that Bluebell Lakes was due to re-open on the Friday.

Now I have only ever fished Kingfisher twice before, both previous times it was the middle of December and the lake was half frozen, the venue really isn’t my cup of tea to be honest due to how busy it gets and is very different from my normal choice of water, for a start it has a few fish in it! But it makes for a change of scenery and in the middle of winter the banks are much quieter so this seemed a good time to go for a mooch, even if the hangers were likely to remain motionless.

With a plan decided I packed the wife and kids off to her mums up north for a few days and set about getting the kit sorted, it seemed to take an age but eventually the van was loaded ready for the off the following morning.

I completely slept through my alarm and upon waking realised that it was 8am, I just grunted to myself and began getting myself sorted in a caveman kind of way – a few coffees later I was alive and kicking, I jumped in the van and was off!

The roads were really quiet and in 30 minutes I was pulling into the fishery gates and heading for the lodge, which was a complete error on my part – just as I was about to walk through the front door a lady came out looking completely shocked that I was about to walk into her living room!

It had been 3 years since I last visited the venue and it seems that the lodge had moved next door and that the owners had converted the old lodge into a house!

After walking through the correct door and collecting my ticket I drove round to the top of Kingfisher, with only 2 other cars in the car park it was the quietest I had ever seen the venue.

I collected a bucket from the back of the van and did a slow lap of the lake, the first angler I came to appeared to only be doing the day (which was strange as I believed the minimum stay was 24 hours) he was busy setting up so I didn’t stop for a chat too long but he hadn’t seen a thing.

I continued round the lake until I came to the 2nd angler, he had done the previous night and as per the first hadn’t seen a show. I wished him well then headed back to the van to fetch the rest of my kit.

With very little pressure on a normally very busy water and with no sightings to go on I was unsure where to go, but in the end I decided to head round to the far side of the lake to where there was quite a lot bird life – past winter experiences have always led me to believe that this can quite often be a good starting point.

My new Carp Porter coped with the boggy terrain superbly and before long I was standing in the swim scratching my head thinking what to do, to be honest my head was still a bit of a mess and I was just looking forward to some me time so in the end I decided to just pub chuck a few naked choddie’s baited with Live System corkball’s into the abyss and then scattered 30 baits over the top with the stick.

For once I was happy with that, just being on the bank was enough for me, if a fish wanted to make an appearance then that would just be an added bonus.

After firing up the coleman for the first of many brews I sat on the bed chair to take it all in, I was shocked when a fat bumble bee come and sat next to me without a care in the world, now I know it’s mild but it’s still early January!

A short while later I heard a some rustling from behind the Oval so peeked round to investigate, there was a fox on the other side of the river obviously looking for his lunch, as quietly as I could I opened my camera bag to get my DSLR and attempted to take a few photographs but struggled with my kit lens, it’s moments like these that I kick myself for selling my lens collection when times were hard.

The afternoon passed quite quickly and with my eyes firmly fixed to the water I saw nothing, the lake looked completely lifeless with just the odd coot interrupting the eerie silence.

As darkness descended around me I was confident that I would see a show, my eyes strained under the low light levels until eventually I had to give up looking.

With nothing else to do other than listen to the silence and hopefully a fish rolling in the moonlight I decided to cook up a famous uncle bens risotto, which I must add that I ruined in style with too much water but still it didn’t taste too bad and slightly filled the whole in my stomach.

After dinner I put on some Mumford & Sons on my phone quietly and lay on the bed chair with a smoke and a coffee trying to analyse what had happened over the last 12 months, which pretty much saw out the rest of the evening and by 9pm I had concluded that it was probably best if I get some shut eye so filled up the hot water bottle and climbed into the bag for some well earnt shut eye.

I slept very restlessly and awoke several times in the night waking in a sweat, each time all I could do was roll over and hope the Neville would awake me with some good news but unfortunately when I awoke the following morning the hangers were exactly where I left them the night before.

Although at first I wasn’t sure if I had gone blind as I couldn’t see past my nose but after a few seconds realised that the culprit was actually thick fog, I climbed out from under the Oval to have a brew to celebrate me not waking up blind and to try and assess the scene.

Whilst drinking my 2nd coffee I began to get in the zone and strained my eyes through the fog to see if I could see anything show that I could cast at to save a blank.

By mid-morning I had all but thrown in the towel and began a very slow pack up leaving the rods out until the very last minute hoping one of them would rattle off but unfortunately they never did.

As I pushed the barrow through the bog I couldn’t help but think on another day I probably would have faired a lot better but to be honest I just needed to get out and I am sure it helped in one way or another.

So, what are my plans for the rest of the year? Well I have kept my ear firmly to the grape vine and have found somewhere special an hour away from home, it’s a small water with a very low stock with literally only a handful of fish. The downside is it’s a days only rule but the rewards are there to say the least.

It’s common knowledge that I like to have a few waters to go at, and with both of my current tickets expiring in the next few months I need to find somewhere to complement the little low stock pit when the days only rule begins to take a toll on my body, I have got my eye on a few places at the minute but don’t want to say any more than that for now.

So I shall be flitting about on my current waters until the end of the February then it’s full steam ahead on the little low stock pit in search of something very special.

Until next time be safe and cherish what you have,

Smithy

I initially wasn’t planning on getting the rods out last weekend with so much going on at home but after a phone call from Pete late on Saturday evening we arranged to have a quick day session the following morning on our small syndicate water a few miles from home and after a little bit of persuasion and a spot of begging my wife eventually handed me a pass for the day, game on!

I quickly began sorting all the kit, replenishing tea and coffee supplies as well as tying up a few rigs so there was no messing around once I was on the bank, before I knew it the van was loaded and ready for action and after a couple of beers I decided on an early night ready to rise with the dawn the following morning.

It seemed like I had only been in bed a few minutes when I became aware of my phone telling me it was time to get up, I threw it across the room in an attempt to shut it up but unfortunately that didn’t work so in the end decided it would be for the best if I did as I was told and reluctantly rose from my pit in an almost cave man like trance.

After finding my way to the kettle and necking a few cups of the good stuff I finally felt as near human as is possible for me so grabbed my camera off the side, bait out of the freezer and made my way outside to the van.

It became quite possible that I still wasn’t awake at this point as just as I was pulling off of the drive I noticed that I couldn’t actually see anything and after rubbing my eyes for a few times realised that I needed to scrape the windscreen as it was frozen solid, “wake up smithy” I said to myself whilst laughing, it was the first time I had had to do the deed this winter so it took me a bit by surprise but after the job was done it was full steam to the pit with the temperature gauge in the van never rising above -3c throughout the whole journey.

As I pulled into the gate I was pleasantly surprised to see a good friend “Jon” an Avid Carp Consultant, I knew straight away that this was going to turn into a bit of match and even more so when another friend “Dave” also an Avid Consultant turned up – Team Avid vs Team Lead Shed (and Pete) bring it on!

After a bit of banter in the car park the game was set so after unloading the van I threw all of my gear on my back resembling something like a pack horse and made my way through the bog round to the pit with Dave & Jon.

As soon as we got to the pit we saw a fish show straight in front, Jon & Dave reacted the quickest and dropped their kit in the nearest swim to the show choosing to double up. I on the other hand had other ideas and headed further up the bank to a holding area where I had enjoyed success the previous winter.

I was just getting my first rod sorted when Pete turned up and dumped his kit next to mine choosing to double up with me, I had just begun to inform him about the show when he interrupted and complained that the kettle wasn’t on the boil – so after answering his demands I carried on with my story, we were both optimistic considering the harsh frost and ice in the margins.

Being only a small lake of just a few acres I only fished two rods, the left hand rod was fished close to an overhanging bush on the far bank baited with two 10x14 Live System dumbbell’s on the hair and fished helicopter style, I then scattered two pouchfuls of 10 millers over the top.

The right hand rod was fished with a single 10x14 Live System dumbbell on the hair in a solid pva bag with matching pellets and then pumped over to the same overhanging bush as the left hand rod.

With the rods sorted it was just a case of sitting back with a brew and having a catch up with Pete listening to his tales of Woe since I had last seen him a few weeks earlier whilst waiting for my Neville to sing its merry tune.

I was on my 3rd coffee when the right hand Neville out of the blue went into complete melt down, I was on it in a flash not giving it an inch and after a brief battle under the rod tip was pulling a mid-double mirror over the net cord, I turned around to see Dave & Jon behind me who had heard my Neville and had come to investigate looking rather glum, the banter commenced!

The little mirror was rather lively on the mat, it certainly made up for not putting up much of a fight in the water but was soon on her way back from where she came.

Dave and Jon left muttering something under their breaths whilst I carried on with the banter knowing they loved it really!

With the fish safely returned I quickly got the rod sorted and back on the spot on the far bank before firing up the coleman once again for a celebratory brew.

The next few hours past quietly with no action to note, it was about 2pm when I was just rustling up a Risotto for lunch when Dave & Jon arrived admitting defeat, they were cold and bored – after a bit more rib tickling they slopped off down the bank and left us to it.

I was just finishing the last mouthful of my lunch when my left hand rod pulled up tight and ripped off at a rate of knots, once again I was on it in a flash – this one put up a better account of itself but a few minutes later a stunning little common about mid double was being held up in front of the camera.

Once she was safely returned I couldn’t help but send Team Avid a tweet informing them of my success, and was greeted by a simple “well done” through gritted teeth I am sure!

After that small piece of action I was more than happy and was hoping Pete would be lucky enough to bank one, I offered to move my rods so he could have a couple of rods on my banker spot but he wasn’t having it saying that he would have one.

With the daylight beginning to fade and the temperature dropping by 4pm we decided to call it a day, there was already frost on the unhooking mats and the mesh on my landing net had frozen solid, we packed everything away other than the rods which were laying on the floor and had one last brew hoping for another but unfortunately it never came.

Needless to say I was chuffed with a couple of little corkers on a short day session in such difficult conditions and look forward to a few more similar sessions throughout the winter.

I was planning on fishing a quick night this weekend but during Friday afternoon received a phone call from the head bailiff on the Big Pit informing me that the adjacent river was now flowing through the pit – bloody great!

Just as I was leaving work I received a phone call from Dave telling me the same about the Ouse Valley and that I wouldn’t get the van anywhere near the place, I was fuming – it was the first time I could get out for a night in several weeks and had nowhere to go, I headed for home and consoled myself with several beers knowing that I wouldn’t have to be up early the following morning.

Saturday was spent tying rigs, reading and anything else I could do to beat the boredom, Pete rang on Saturday evening also feeling down in the dumps but after a quick chat we decided to go for a drive round a few pits the following morning just to get out really and see what damage had been done due to the flooding.

Some of the sights we saw on the way to the venues I can’t put into words, extreme weather at its finest but fortunately our target waters were not as bad as expected and fish losses/escapees should be minimal, we left for home breathing a sigh of relief.

So after that bit of excitement I am sitting here trying to work out when I will next get some “therapy” and with the Carp Show next weekend, my birthday night out the following weekend and then my works Christmas do after that it’s looking like the 23rd December before I shall be out again, I actually don’t know how I will manage!

Until then,

Smithy

I dealt with my short week at work in spectacular fashion completing a last minute turn around trip to Cardiff in style; I was back in the office at 3pm with tunnel vision and only one thing on my mind – The Big Pit!

When 5pm rolled around I hit the forced shutdown button on my computer and I was out of the door like a rat up a drain pipe, the nights were drawing in fast and I knew that to stand a chance on my first night I needed to beat the darkness to be as accurate as possible.

One thing that I noted during my tearing round the country roads was the huge amount of Rainbows, the whole sky was covered with them - it was really a spectacular sight, what made it even more special was that it looked like each one ended in the direction of the Pit, I thought to myself “Is this a sign from the Carp Gods?” then laughed and put my foot down, I would have loved to have stopped to have taken a few pictures if I had more time.

The drive to the Pit was completed in record time and before I knew it I was parking the van up at the side of the track and with not another angler in sight I loaded the barrow as quick as I could and headed round the Pit to the swim that I had landed an immaculate common from a few weeks previously.

Once in the swim I wasted no time at all getting the 3 rods sorted, the middle and right hand rod would be fished close together tight to the Island on naked chod’s baited with Live System Cork Balls with a hundred 15 miller scattered over the top with the throwing stick.

The left hand rods was fished 15 yards off the baited spot also on a naked chod baited with a Live System Cork Ball but this time fished as a single.

With the rods sorted I put up the Titan just as the last few rays of sunlight disappeared over the horizon.

After doing a bit of a video catch up I fired up the coleman and rustled up a Risotto which was demolished in seconds and washed down with several cups of strong coffee to try and keep me awake so I could sit up and listen to see I could hear anything show in the darkness and by 10:30pm I had heard two definite shows out towards the Island.

I climbed into the bag just before 11pm feeling confident that I would be woken at dawn by the sound of my Neville, however I didn’t need to wait that long!

I was just entering a dream which I can’t recall when I heard a screaming noise, it seemed to last hours but in reality it was only a few seconds when I awoke in a daze and realised what was going on, I grabbed my wellies from behind the bedchair and my head torch and ran out to deal with the offending left hand rod.

With the rod firmly in my hand in battle curve I waded out into the shallow water when I became aware of a sudden loss of weight from my head. Fortunately or unfortunately,whichever way you look at it,the strap had come detached from my headtorch and it had fallen off my head and had caught in the gap in my hooded top at my neck, I grabbed it just in time as it became loose and was heading for the Abyss – after a few seconds fumbling in the darkness I soon had it firmly attached to my head and battle resumed.

After a few scary moments I caught a glimpse of a small perfectly proportioned Linear as it rolled over the net cord, it was by no means a beast and in reality probably one of the smallest fish in the lake but nevertheless I punched the air in delight, it was a great start and added another to my tally for the tricky Pit.

I pushed the handle of the net into the soft ground in the water and put a storm pole through the block to secure the net then waded back to the bank to zero the sling and set up the camera gear and interval timer – with the prep done it was just a case of retrieving my prize from the water and weighing her in, the needle made a small spin round to mid doubles and I then fired off a few self takes before return her safely to the magical pit.

After tiding the swim up, I set about getting the rod sorted but upon closer inspection the hookpoint on the chod had turned right over so I got my sharpening kit out of my rucksack and gave it a quick rub with a file until it was stick sharp once again and with a new Cork Ball attached it was just a case of getting the rod back out on the spot from which the take came.

All thought of sleep had disappeared, I was fired up and fully expected another so I rolled a smoke and fired up the coleman for a celebratory brew – I checked by phone and it was just gone midnight, it was then that it dawned on me that it was my first take at night from the Pit.

After a few cups of the good stuff I climbed back into the bag and was soon fast asleep not awaking until first light.

I didn’t even get out of the bag to light the coleman and as I lay there with a coffee looking out over the misty water I couldn’t help but feel confident,but despite my hopes & anticipations the day passed quietly with just a few subtle shows near my spots whilst I made a huge dent in my coffee rations.

Before I knew it 3pm had rolled around and I decided to redo the rods ready for the night ahead, fresh hook baits were tied on and the rigs were dispatched to the same spot from which they were retrieved.

Pete turned up just has the light faded carrying small Chinese feast and as we sat there savouring the atmosphere and dining on eastern delights talk turned to the following season, I have never seen Pete so excited about fishing a water,the place had certainly taken a hold of him again as it had me.

Pete left me to it at about 10:30pm and said that he was awaiting the phone call for Photographer duties as I had told him earlier that I would not be doing self takes of the “Big Girl”, he just laughed as he walked off until the darkness saying “Speak to you at Dawn!”

I have to admit I shared Pete’s enthusiasm and whilst sat there on my own with the coffee before bed the wind picked up and the rain started; it couldn’t have looked any better as I climbed into bed.

Unfortunately my sleep wasn’t interrupted; I awoke at Dawn to the sound of some geese crashing on the water about 50 yards out, the conditions still looked good before although my confidence was beginning to wane.

Dawn passed without as much as a sighting or a liner so I never got to make that call to Pete demanding Photography duties, I sat on the edge of the bedchair chain drinking coffee hoping to see something that I could cast a bait to but nothing showed and by 10am I was forced to have a slow pack up before eventually heading for home slightly gutted that I never got to meet one of the magical beasts of the Pit but chuffed to bits with the little linear that I had met on the first night.

Whilst on the Drive home I couldn’t help but notice that autumn was well and truly upon us, the roads were covered in brown leaves and with that my thought turned to my rigs with winter just around the corner it was time that I started fine tuning a few things ready for my winter campaign, so the next few evenings shall be spent with the tackle box in the living room tinkering about with a few things until I find something that I am happy with, maybe turning the clock back and going back to basics.

Until next time, be lucky

Smithy