Big bucket of bread and pastes and some left over just in case red maggots. River coloured (not sure why) which might get some of the zoo creatures out of their day time tucked away haunts. Long time member had fished all the way up with the only indication a quick jag jag whilst we pondered on the future of 'our' river. Binned that idea and left the bread in the charabanc and back down to Noddy Bridge with a slimmed down trotting bucket. I've struggled in the Noddy Bridge swims this season for some reason but a few dace rising had me sat down above the confluence with the trusty 15 footer and pin. A few dace a way down the trot but the lurking pike was making them wary. Shallowed up and ran down a shortish near bank glide below the feeder emptying at my feet. Bingo. Dace a trot, and all sandpapery males, bar a couple of chublets and a roach. Just thinking about heading home when a pike finally grabbed a fish as I struck. Powerful fish and I could see it was a mid double at least. Just thinking about emptying the landing net when it spat the mangled dace out.
Last river day and the bread bucket and by now a meagre tub of maggots were heading off to the new river. Bloke trotting the main pool so I settled for the sandy run. Bites in a yard square zone before. the flow whisked the stick float away to a waiting gudgeon or minnow. The shallower faster riffle adjacent to the sandy run meant for some decent struggles and rod bendage when I hooled a 'silver'. Which I did for as long as my meagre maggot supply lasted.
The usual 'kept a few back for a net shot' shot. Cormorant damage very evident. I'd been 'basking' in shorts but the bib and braces were deployed before driving a couple of miles down to the Parakeet stretch
The bucket of bread was deposited in a few likely spots along two bends. I'd just made my first cast, the flow taking up the bow and imparting a nice curve to the tip when a stocky man in joggers lurched past. I'd expected him to be tooled with a lure rod, no net and a handy plastic bag, 'sponsored' by a well known mobile two letter mobile network provider but he had a very big dog, a long lead and a seemingly limitless supply of stones in his hoody pocket which he hurled in as if they were nuggets of very heavy Warby Orange almost precisely where my gentle handfuls of white gold were probably still fluttering down to the river bed.. I took a risk and hurled a stream of invective his way. The large head phones on his bonce must have been noise cancelling as I had to get in front of him to get his attention but with a shrug of his shoulders he carried on on his way down the river.
No point going home so I fished diligently down. No parakeets but an equally noisy mischief of around 15 magpies made up for their absence, watch on by two more reserved elders. Yaffles abounded too.
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As the sun dipped roach began to roll and I had an intense period of roachy twitches, jags and one sharper pull almost at my feet. I only has a packet of wide gape size 6's in my big coat pocket (the air temperature had plummeted) and even reducing the size of the flake failed to convert any bites. I'll do a proper roach recce or two in the autumn. My evening ended with a small swim bait perch trailing line (no wire trace) snaring my main line.. Another find.
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Started off well.
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