Blogging blanks

I personally find the blogging of blank sessions to a rather unsavoury pastime, as I assume other bloggers do too. I often feel no one wants to read about  me spending my free time hiding in the undergrowth cursing at an unwavering piece of water and reluctant fish population. But as we all know the blank days go had in hand with the red letter days and so I have decided to share this infuriating session with you, no matter how boring it was for me never mind you.

I had been watching the river levels all week first hand using the link to a web cam on the Avon that Keith sent me. After the initial rain fall at the start of the week I watched as the water rose then fell temptingly again, to the point that every time the little web cam window popped up on my screen I was getting more and more excited that the conditions were looking perfect. Cross checking the water conditions against the met office weather predictions for Sunday only served to further my feverish excitement. As far as I was concerned this was what I had been waiting for for months - my first real chance to be on the river in perfect conditions.

This where the saga began...

Upon arriving I was met with this

A coloured, falling river and low light levels. Perfect!

A good layer of mist to boot only increased my confidence. I had obtained a good range of fresh baits and it was on! For all of one cast before I severed the tip rig off my Barbel rod again for the second time this year.

After this it all went south quickly and badly. No bites came in my first banker swim and after scratching my head I changed to a different rig to enable me to adjust the depth at which I could fish the baits, to check out if they were feeding at different levels of the water.

I moved around all morning going through every connotation of rig, fishing methods and bait. I fished every bit of fast, slow and slack water I could find. I cast into every crease under every tree and next to every weed bed. But the most I managed for my efforts was two tiny trembles on the rod tip that could have been caused by anything and the whole time I had the unenviable task of staring at my busted rod tip all morning.

By midday I'd had enough and got ready to go home. All the way back to the car and later on back at home I mulled over the trip and came to the conclusion that I had done absolutely everything that I could have done with the things available to me to put something wet and slimy on the bank, but still I had not come within a catfishes whisker of landing a damn thing. As anglers we often thinnk its just a case of doing this and that on the right day at the right time, when in actual fact the possible external variables to whether or not we actually catch a fish are so large that even if you had the knowledge of every one who ever fished, there is still a chance that you may not find the solution to the problem on any one occasion.

Or it may be as simple as the fish are just not hungry.

Anyway that was my excuse and I am sticking to it... and like any self respecting angler I will see if I can get some time off work later in the week and offer myself up as a sacrifice to the fishing gods again.