Managed to get a break last weekend, and drove over to Wessex with a new rod and reel. The aim, to christen them with a winter Roach. The rod, A Fred J Taylor Roach Rod, has actually been christened already, but with a double figure mirror carp, so was keen to do it ‘properly’ with a Roach.
This winter was cool, a beautiful clear sky and full sun. Not perhaps, the best Roach fishing weather, but there were no complaints at all, it was great just to be fishing again, especially at a flowing river.
An old Rapidex was given to me by the bailiff of my local pond and deemed fit for the bin. After a little tlc, I managed to free the totally jammed reel, and following a good clean, got it to a state where it could actually be used again.
Sport was slow. A couple of friends joined me, the river bailiff being one, and we fished in the same spot; fruitless. Wandering across the river, and across a couple of fields, we found far better looking swims and settled down in earnest.
Trotting a large float down the river. No real bites or indicators were seen at all. Only my float would stop occasionally in mid flow. I would tighten the line as if it were caught on the river bed so that it would be on its way again. One time when I tightened I felt resistance, A fish! At last! I thought it was a big Roach lolling around in mid current, and then it made a few short runs which I knew to be a Chub. The river was so cold that the Chub did not really put up much of a fight and did not get near any snags, of which there were many. I had to be cautions, I was using a very light hook link. A quick photograph and back to it’s cold home it went.
I moved swims, much further down the river, the sun warming hands and face. A couple of Roach and a Gudgeon were to be had. Nothing of any size, but at last I could say that the Fred J Taylor Roach Rod has now caught a Roach.
With the sun setting rapidly, I found my friends up stream, we marked the day with a delicious slice of blueberry cake. In quickly diminishing light we all packed up. Walking back across the fields sounded like a favorable breakfast cereal, as the grass was beginning to freeze under our footsteps, and we crunched our way back.
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