Far from the madding crowd.

I'd hoped for a good go on The Lawns with a double rod approach  but time, and the big wind and squally sharp showers hacking straight in there meant that the high bank behind the Royal Box would give me some comfort so it was just the one. i'd also put to much water in the mix, and the softer krill pellets were making the mix stay in the frame of the flat bed longer. This meant the fish were picking around more than taking the juicy nugget and indeed it seemed nosing the whole feeder about. 

Four of these and a lost tench later...

I spotted some bubbles to the left of the madding crowd and in went the feeder, down came the rain (stair rods) and off shot a hard pulling fish. Long, strong runs and no head/tail slapping on the line. I was beginning to worry about my car keys in my pocket (always the right pocket) getting wet when the rain blew over leaving me and the lake streaming. I'd negotiated the fish (surely a mudpig) around the pads in front and juggle the 42 inch net into place when I caught a glimpse of  a round dorsal and  a bug fish buster attached firmly. A foul hooked tench. Out with the stink net rather than the 42 incher and into the cradle. Not even a big tench. But a fit as a butchers dog male that was punching a foul hooked league or two above fight wise. Imagine if it had been hooked in the tail. Another one with St Peter's Handprint,this time near the tail.. And the pellets still in the feeder.  The dumbbell bait had fallen off the hair in the net and is my custom in that circumstance I fed the bits down it's gob as a sacrifice to the fishy gods.

Back in the bait strewn corridor no bubbles but lots of action, amongst the short intense showers. Red pec bream again (weighed  this time at 6lb 6oz). 

Another fiesty tench or two.. 

and this gorgeous roach that took almost on the drop.

And a string of wannabe hybids and stepped up skimmers in an slightly longer hour and 50 minutes. The wind had been fierce enough to dry everything off but the stink net and weigh sling. Bonus. 

The Commander in Chief had muttered about me getting in at 9.30 these days so I made sure that I'd hot the back door before the peacock and church bells had even drawn breath. No more fishing for a while though. On the way to work this cold blustery dawn the cam belt went on my beloved charabanc. A costly event, think it's new car time. A full tank of diesel as well.