Meat means...

I'd planned a foray up the Wensum Valley to chase a few mudpigs. A boilies and cans/tins ban had me searching out some old Bacon Grill to chop up to impale with my bayonet stops 

but I remembered it was a Bank Holiday and I'd likely to be forced to listen to lots of old bois probably in trackie bottoms and vests shouting out to each other across the lake and banging in bank sticks and stuff so parked up a mere 5 mins from Bureboi Villas on Golden Pond. Just mewing buzzards, mallards, greylags and and road noise to put up with. Link legering again with meat on one and mini Source on the other. Korum running rigs and a light bomb due to the silt and the fact that I'd be dropping them on the fishes' heads in about 3 feet of water at best.

The bright sun on arrival quickly became veiled by a general grey and the wind that sprung up was a bit chillier than I'd bargained for so Aldi hoodie deployed. Whilst I waited for the Spicy Sausage 6mm pellets and hemp to work I amused myself by pilling up some chunks of sweaty old Red Leicester some one had left on the bank to occupy the bait robbing mallard duck with her attendant, very respectful and frankly useless drake watching mostly gormlessly while she gorged on the rubbery old cheese.

My attention  turned to the rods and after two missed takes on the Sourcery a bream was  giving up and flopping into the stink net. They don't get big on the Pond but often have lovely colouration, a buttery bronze mostly.

 

I  set  the bobbin on the recast and it was ripped put of my fingers and  a bit more of a tussle had me thinking hybrid until it capitulated, boilie hanging out it's slobbering gob and flopping into the onion bag.

The meat rod was only attracting twitches so I cast amongst the throng and it wasn't long before something was hell bent on heading down to the dam, not a pond pig but a tench, my first for the year. Custard yellow belly and everything. If only they grew into their length on here.

 Another victim of the stink net.

 I really don't think the stink net will last past the autumn, such is the degrading action of several years of bream and tench snot with the odd snig thrown in. I leave it mainly on Golden Pond as even a hint of damp makes the charabanc stink, even with windows open.

This one had a bit of hybrid power when hooked and even a glint of gold  as it flashed in the water just before  performing the swimmers roll but  not when studied close up. Spawn ready.

The wind had dropped though the sun remained rheumy with no real warmth. Well, I call it rheumy, think I must have read it one of Bailey's earlier works. Sort of wearing an old scarf, wrapped up against the ague presaging wraiths of mist and shining weakly.

Time for one more and like most of its net mates it had been bewitched by the Source, a majestic fish getter in my experience. The meat? One to keep in the tackle bag  for the odd run out, a bit like my swingtip  rod. So, 5 bream and a tench, and a most pleasant way to spend a Bank Holiday afternoon and not  a vest in sight. 9 different species now for 2022. I'd like a bass again, and a zed.