Two fishing days this week, in between the incessant and now massively tedious and annoying rain.
First session it was grey, windy and cold. Not exactly inspiring. Two chub were winkled out on the Suffolk Test, moderate fish of around the 3lb mark, before I had an hour on the Stour, with another brace of chub, bit bigger though, both around the 4lb mark.
Yesterday, after a beautiful early morning walk along the river and then farting about with a couple of little jobs, I was off in the van, destination unknown. I really couldn't decide.
I ended up on the Grubby Town river, after dace. Despite looking spot on, it was dire, with just a chublet to show for my efforts. My mood was not enhanced when I discovered I'd left my waist pack in the furthest swim, which necessitated a long trek to rescue it.
Off to another stream, a few miles down the road. Again, the river looked perfect and plenty of dace, roach and chub came to the stick float.
I decided to call in on the Stour on the way back, "just for an hour". Two road closures and a precarious journey down tiny lanes full of pot holes made the journey "interesting". The Stour looked fantastic but failed to produce.
Rain moved in around dusk, the wind got up and I sacked it off. Walking back in the gloaming, I could just make out the huge beds of snowdrop and acolytes, the first and most welcome sign that winter is on its way out.
Good riddance.
