A bad case of the trots.

When you've got a window, be that a weather window and/or a time window take it Buh. Had those frozen casters and some hemp left over plus a near pint of reds and an hour and a half max before dark. To the Sheltered Reach, covering my tracks as I went. It's getting popular on there lately, a couple of "faces" and a few familiar trees starting to put on an appearance on the Gram. Bigger perch than I'm getting but I have yet to master the chebs, neds and carolinas and my perch are most a welcome by catch when trotting reds. As it happened I was mostly bothering the perch whilst leering across the Reach at the Costa Coffee carrying dog walkeresses, conveniently travelling in pairs. Great fun on a pin and  a 15 footer. The  perch, not the Costa carriers. Obvs.

 A hoary old chestnut but there continues to be anything as big as a big perch, even when it's not really a big perch. (*or is there?)

I'd sort of thought of hiding gnome like under a brolly behind two quiver tips on Saturday but  the weather  refused to budge from over my head so having collected two click and collect pints of heat sealed reds (and my replacement Drennan Tench and Specimen tip section) from the Dangling Indirect up the City  I did mosey on past the old red brick bridge to check out the river conditions to see a fellow member sitting gnome like under his brolly behind two quiver tips just  a swim  down from where I'd planned. He was getting bites too so things augured well for the morrow as a brighter afternoon was forecast. Sunday morning saw me riddling me maggots and blitzing a loaf of cheapo bread, separating the crust from the crumb like any good roacher should.

Oh, and getting myself outside quite a lot of this Tom Kerridge umami fest slow cooked  by the Commander in Chief for which I was sent to get the Liffey water Stout in a previous post. Deffo dumpling weather.

Feeder rods and separate crumb at the ready I headed for the red brick bridge to see two white tips nodding in the fresh down streamer. No gnomic brolly required, my fellow member had grasped the nettle a few minutes before me. Pleasantries exchanged I headed for the Lower Mill beat, glad I'd packed a just in case in case trotting rod. I parked up and checking for my key to lock up the charabanc couldn't find it. I  have a system, car keys right picket, phone left pocket. Bu it wasn't there. Nr in my coat, or my bin 'n 'braces. Panic set in, but just before I braved the call to the Commander in Chief to bring the spare set (most cars I've had haven't had a spare set, or a locking boot which is an advantage if you lock thee keys in the car) I checked the hand warmer pocket in my Aldi hoodie and my bacon was

saved.

The path to Second Best and the Special Place was very slippery and a rather glamorous dog walkeress did succumb to a palm plant but her gallant companion had the necessary wipes to hand to  save her sullying her very white jeans, black cashmere sweater and camel coat (not that I was taking that much notice of course). I don't think Costa was being carried even though it is so rank it is actually mud in  a cup.

The river was up but not raging through but up enough to rule out Second Best but the Special Place was fishable from so  bit the bullet and set up stall. A near upstreamer down on this beat but so not a lot of time to play with but my second trot way down the run and the 5 AAA Advanta  being held back over depth dipped and that lovely thunk as the #16 Kamasan B560 bit home. A plodding resistance and a decent bend  in the tip section of the 15 footer Greys  and that lovely flash of red and silver. A net job too.

Bites continued but way down the trot. Not to far not to hit  but way below where my maggots must have fallen. A long bat back too when you have missed a bite.  But the Special Place is right on the border of disputed territory and though the float can wander the angler can't. They do come up the trot but not this time.  Some must  of nudged the pound and only one was a  swinger-in er.  Most were immaculate too as in this selection, and no rudd/roach hybrids this time round. 

And this stunning dace .There are more obvious cattle drink spots further up but they do congregate here to spawn later. This went 9oz, and I can hardly begin to imagine what a * 1lb plus dace must look like.

I hoped the wind would have dropped before dusk but it didn't which meant an early finish as I couldn't see the float any longer. Only one roach rolled, but upstream to give me a push to search a bit more.