Fought the fog down the A140 yesterday to the Theatre of Dreams. Or more prosaically the absurdly named Weston Homes Community Stadium.You know, that soulless concrete box perched over the A12 at the backend of Britan's oldest recorded town, so good the Romans named it Camulodunum and sometime home of both the Royal Green Jackets and the Black Watch. No prizes for guessing why there was a thriving Military Corrective Training Centre (the Glass House). Friday and Saturday nights were somewhat lively.
Two sevenths of the Bureboy yoot in earnest pre match contemplation. Yoot number 3 has just discovered his sandwich has a mouldy crust stage left....
To be honest, the fog did not make for a visual feast. We could plainly see result of the inept defending of a Notts County corner early doors. Seven feet tall or not "The Boy Sam Walker" had no chance.
However, the only thing we could see over the half way line was the neon glow of the County keeper's kit and the pinball head tennis induced flashes of the yellow winter ball as it reached flood light height. Quite often. So who scored our equaliser, or how I am not sure.
The second half was mostly played in Notts County's half and though not total football by any means enough to pressure County into dropping deeper and deeper and eventually committing own goal hari- kari and facing a slow foggy trip back towards the River Trent sans points.
Unexpected pass out today and off to try a few swims further down the bridge beat. Around 6 degrees and a gentle breeze but river like gin. The sort of day for tucking baits in quietly close to features rather than chasing them down
Ronnie or Reggie Cray still active?
Still a lot of colour around.
Second swim and an instant response to the sardine placed right on x marks the spot and a real tearaway fish, surging round in the clear water. Leeched up but plump and with that Concorde droop snout.
Another move and again float dipping almost as soon as rod on the alarm and baitrunner engaged. Something for the Santa Special to look at but not for long, the top treble having slid down meaning both sets of hooks in the tail of the bait and not enough to gain purchase. Longer fish too. Never mind.
I do like a row or two of poplars. Here's 4 rows at least..guess that's a rheumy sun?
Sunday morning and back out with the little uns whilst the brisket melted in it's own juices. We usually stop to look for the deer at Gunton.
And quite often the pirate ship. She is Juno and gleaming from a recent overhaul. Back in her usual haul out spot at at Blakeney.
Hot knife through butter brisket devoured I had just an hour to kill. River slightly up after last night's rain and the merest hint of tinge...surely that burst of weak winter sun was a portent of plenty?
Just sending my first take inducing text to Lord Lite when a decentish pike ghosted up near the float to the right with my sardine in it's jaws. I couldn't fail surely? Well, if the trebles hadn't been firmly embedded in a twig then perhaps. The other 10 rods are out of frame Lord Lite..
Lots of rotting down weed on the bottom and as my hour ticked by increasing rafts of previously fresh greenery coming down on the surface.
Never got as far as that banker bush..so home fish less.
Looking over the bridge at the bones of the river in the painfully low and thin water I wasn't going to be trotting for those skittish roach anytime soon. So it was off down the muddy bank and a halved sardine on each rod. Both baits out and on came the rain. Not hard, but mean and persistent. River very pacy, at least 2 foot down and willow leaves visible on the bottom half way across. No water hardly coming off the main mill, some down the side stream and gates open further down
Did that down stream rod nod? Nothing developed so swung bait back out and it kept going. Wound down straight away given the nearby snags, on then off. Nice when you hit 'em on the snout whatever the outcome. Location is often all. Baited up and just about to swing out again only to see the upstream float at my feet, A real powerful fight, in those snags once then in the onion bag. Decent belly on it and a very big tail. 6 or 7lb?
Down stream rod gave two distinct taps and then away. Twisting, surging then stop. Weeded covered head. Not quite as big.
Troubled by the proximity of the snag moved next swim down and had just got both rods out when a bleep and upstream float just a couple of yards out was off. Much more powerful fish and not keen on surrender. Guessed it as a low double and in the ET Tube for a grin and hold shot if rain eased off. It didn't so some mat shots after a weigh and a little bigger than guessed at 14.02. Again a plump belly on it.
Immediate response to twitching the downstream rod and probably a good pound or so bigger than the first fish of the day despite not being quite so plump. Length is often all. Markings prominent on all the fish today.
Decided an another hour, though enticing would only prolong the drying out time and also earn a few points towards another trip tomorrow if weather a little less grim.Some bramble lined straights below the next bridge that might hold a few sergeants if the worm were trotted close enough to them?
Stopped at the gate to check the Res and called Lord Lite. Curlew calling off stage right as he looked over the estuary. Buzzard unlike a child: heard but not seen by me.
Wind has got up and rain has not stopped. Once I have this wet dripping tackle dried off it must be whisky time.
I can recommend the mushrooms in The Mermaid's Slipper..
No, just mucking about with the "exciting" on-camera features. The Mermaid's Slipper is an small restaurant on the Staithe behind. Only one chance to an inadvertently freelined half sardine at the mouth of the cut. On for a short while then gone.
Got myself another fixed spool/rear drag as my last float reel had gone kaput and fancied a centrepin too... no line guard and I don't really fancy winding in backwards with line off the top of the reel so it might take a little while to get use to avoiding tangles, having said that have always managed ok when I have borrowed one before. Think a workout with an Avon/Chubber and worms is called for.
This was an almost perfect circle with a line through the middle but it had got a little misshapen before I changed my lens. Some one up there was mad for it. I blame it on the chem trail tin foil hatters...aciiiid!
Shot down to Ebridge Mill at last knockings as there was a hint of colour in the setting sun. Should have packed a rod, roach topping everywhere.
Have a bottle of Indian whisky to attend to tonight. Will report back once sampled. With an Abbot Ale chaser. Whilst re-watching Klopp on MOTD2 getting bested for once . He still managed a post match smile though. Damn sight more than Mourinho did.