Ent(r)enched views

Decided to rejoin the Sparham lakes syndicate this year. One well established pit, lots of shallows, bars, gulleys and not many swims. Big tern colony. Holds tench and some lovely roach and  a small stocking of crucians a few years back as part of a county reseeding project. Square pit is well, square. Open and contents a mystery. A couple of trout lakes off ticket adjoining. At the back of the older pit what used to be one of the best big barbel stretches in the country. Till Tarka came to visit.

Friday and headed out of the city along the Wensum corridor. Over the river at Attlebridge, poplars striding along the flood plain.  Cossing it again at the Mill and Bridge Inn at Lenwade. Up the hill and left at the sign for Lyng. Along the farm track, sharp turn and open the big gate. Foot if the hill and the floor of the valley laid out with sheets of bright water, olive green willow shedding capoc like fluffy seeds.  Poor soil over the gravels enough to support great sheets of ox eye daisies. Have always thought about upping the species mix with some Californian poppies and cornflowers. Guerilla gardening,

Through the gate and along the river bank. Rain promised but brolly not packed. Hate them. Had decided not to complicate things with a float rod, intended to fish a method feeder over hemp and pellet at the foot of the first slope and corn with open ended feeder. First rod out of quiver and ready go. Second rod out of quiver, not good. Broken tip section a way above the  female joint.  30 years old sweet actioned Sportex 1.5 tc. Feck.

Options halved. Decided to search the water on and below a bar about 30 yards out.
Previously a dead  cert for tench.

Quick response from the roach, which were as as darkly golden as I remembered.

Couldn't maintain consistent bites or postive indications of tench moving in over the feed. To be honest would have preferred the waggler approach if the tench were not playing ball.  Decided to cut my losses and have a poke about on the way back to the car. Found a pod of tench fizzing in a shallow corner bay, shallow enough  for the tench to  need to flop rather than roll. Enough to hasten me back better tooled up. And if English Nature are bot snooping no messing with fragile ecosystems I promise. Unless I want to release some lovely cute otters with scant regard for sustainability of course.