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Unbothered by fish

To my eyes the conditions were pretty perfect. Unseasonably warm, overcast, yet little chance of rain. I knew the spot - a corner swim on a local pond that had yielded good perch in the past - and I knew the tactics - a piece of prawn ledgered near the last lilies, still clinging on, despite the lateness of the year. 

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These curious times

Despite the startling lack of activity on these pages in recent months...nay, years...I've actually been fishing more often since the pandemic struck than I have in the last 10 years. It's a funny business, writing about fishing...

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And relax...

It's fair to say that I've been pretty stressed out recently. First there was a book to finish on a very tight deadline and then some other stuff in my life that seemed to ratchet everything up a few extra notches. Add to this...

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Blow winds...

I used to hate fishing in the wind. Really hate it with a passion. Hate it so much that more than once I stepped out of the back door, realised how windy it was, then turned round and went back inside, put all my tackle away and cancelled the trip...

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Better to be lucky...

On recent trips to this stretch of the river it's fair to say that luck has deserted me. Well, not so much deserted, as changed its name, appearance and upped sticks to a completely different county without leaving so much as a forwarding address.


But never let it be said that I'm not a sucker for punishment...
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It's raining...

Sometimes it feels as though the rain has settled in for the summer. It’s had a good look round (the wettest April to June since records began) and likes what it sees, so it’s hunkered down and is here for the duration.


Fortunately, although the weather may be poor for anglers, it turns out that it’s rather good for angling...
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Stripes

Having kissed goodbye to the wind, it was time to try the river again, so I 'organised' a quick evening raid, figuring that I could get down there for 7.00pm and still have two hours plus to fish. The maggots were turning into casters and had a good strong smell to them...

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Jupiter and Venus

The close season has snuck up on me and looking back on the entries to the blog, I can only give myself the following mark: must try harder - maybe the fishing book and a succession of articles for Waterlog have wrung all the stories from me.


Yet I know that can't be true...
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You'd think...

You'd think I'd know by now. That I wouldn't fall into the trap of believing that the same thing can happen twice in a row. I mean, who'd be daft enough to go back to the river three days later with the same tackle and bait, arriving at the same time...

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The Lost Fish and the Loch Ness Bream

The river's been fishing pretty poorly of late. When I think back to when I first started coming here (after the initial getting-to-know-you phase was over) there were good fish to be had. We caught carp to 10lbs, bream to 5lbs and chub to over 4lbs; pretty good for a river that in parts, you can almost jump across...

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