I haven't been doing too well of late. The last two sessions were blanks. BUT I did encounter a large Pike which shot out of know where and so nearly connected with my lure. I jumped a bloody mile! It was a massive adrenaline rush and I really want to go at it again.
However I decided that I would make a flying trip to Lydford Millstream for some small Chub and maybe a Roach or two. I literally ran out of work fully aware that
a) There wasnt much light left. By the time I got there it would be around 60 minutes (Just like Claire Sweeney)
b) The wife would put me in the dog house if I was gone too long
Now, all was going well until I got out the car and pulled my rod out (oh er!) only to find the very top section to be snapped - bloody hell.
I decided to fish anyway. The Mill Pond was really raging and very full. Nevertheless I thought I would give it a bash. I had some dead maggots (really dead this time). I chucked a few in along with a bit of leftover groundbait.
10 mins in the float buried
Quite a nice looking chap.
I then got the odd little knock but detecting bites in the flow was quite hard and the light was failing. Nevertheless I got one more cheeky chappy.
A tiddler but still a welcome fish
Then the phone went. The Boss.
She wasnt aware I was out fishing and she wanted me to pick up my daughter from swimming (a change to the original bill). I calmly informed her of my location and that I would be at the pool in 20 odd minutes.
I did arrive a bit late and she was already there. I knew the Doghouse was calling. I'm still in it at the moment (24 hours later) as I write this. Who knows if I will ever get out?
I blame Claire Sweeney for encouraging me to complete my fishing session in 60 minutes...