The last week I fished two sessions both having very poor results!
The first was an evening session with Andy on the bit of canal we have been exploring of late. It turned out to be a real rush for me to get there and I arrived just as the light was fading to see Andy beaming with Jack pike in hand, which turned out to be his second of the evening before I had even arrived. I had fished the area only a few days before and done well, scoring more good perch, a handful of small Zander and a plethora of missed runs. As I left I clocked out a nice wide tree lined area which I fancied may be a good area for bigger Zeds on my return for a night session. The cut and thrust of it was that most of the fish willing to feed where confined to a very specific area where I was not fishing and Andy was! All evening his floats repeatedly saw action until the later end off the session when his bites slowed and one of my ledgered baits in open water sprung to life as the fish seemingly began to move around. The gutting thing was that after waiting for a good three hours for this happen I really had to get going homewards. Leaving me in that awful situation of packing up just as the fish switched on.
Sunday was my only other chance to get out and although the river beckoned me to cast one last time into her flowing waters I found my self unable to go to her as an old ailment was preventing me from any protracted sessions off the beaten track. So instead I did the sensible thing and ventured to the comfortable banks of Ryton pool to again dip my toe in those temperamental waters.
Upon arriving in the morning murk the wind dropped momentarily enough for the ripple to disappear and reveal several patches of what looked like tench fizz all within casting distance of my position.I had only been cast out a few moments when a large carp breached beyond one of my rigs. It was too much to resist and I recast my rig further out on the same line of the jumping fish.
The fish were definitely moving in the area but after spending hours chasing patches of bubbles and the odd rolling carp I had nothing to show for it at all. By ten the lake seemed dead and I can only surmise that the feeding spell was over. For the rest of the morning I went through the whole repatoir and still got nothing. Again I had missed out on the party.
Somtimes it is just the way it goes; you're there a moment too late or just in the wrong place.
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