Frosty Reception

 It seems to have been an age since I last went fishing, but its only been a week. That's the trouble with work and family life, it takes up time and before you know it, its time to fish again.

The morning couldn't come soon enough in my dreams, then the alarm sounded and I was rudely awoken from a dream land of a old estate lake in the middle of no where with monster tench.

Once up, I looked out the window and saw a frost on the car, it had promised to get cold overnight, but surely not cold enough for a frost.

Soon I was up and out the door and heading for the club lake which has been taking up most of my time this season. The lake itself isn't anything amazing to look at, infact its quite featureless to look at as a body of water, but all around it is rolling country side with deer, foxes, buzzards, barn owls and of course the blue blur of the kingfishers.

Upon arrived I was greeted with another angler frantically unloading their car to head off to the lake.
Was he heading for "my swim", I hope not, time to stall him with a chat and ticket check.

This didn't stall him for long, but I was hot on his heels to the water, would he turn left or right?

Luckily, he turned right and I turned left to "my swim".

After a walk through the white grass, I was soon looking out across the lake and nothing was stirring, but I wasn't surprised because it was bloody cold!.

Tackle was unloaded from the barrow and the task of setting up for a long day session was underway.

Rods were set out on the pod and then the spodding of bait started in earnest. Twelve spods later and two rods, tackle up with method feeders where cast out to the dinner table.
The third rod was to be tucked up in the misty still margins with a 90 degree rig that some nice chaps from the pit had put me onto in order to induce the shy biting tench.

The first cup of tea was in my hand and the warm from it was very welcome, infact I could have done with the lined fishing trousers it was that cold.

The water was still, then the first of the tench started to roll over the baited area and twitches on the Delkims started. The middle rod twitch's turned into a lift and slowly the bobbin lifts to the butt ring and the baitrunner starts to turn. The rods in my had and I'm into the first fish of the day. It kites to the right quickly and is scrapping nicely, but the rod absorbs each lunged and run. It then comes to the surface briefly and its then that I see the tench paddle as it lunged back under the surface and heads off again.

Soon its mine and I draw the first tench of the day over the net, a nice fish to start the day with. But  just as I'm contemplating weighting it, the margin rod is away and I grab the rod quickly to stop it in its track. The bend in the rod is good, but I can't give it line as it heading for the reeds, the 8lb line hold true, but will the hook pull before I turn it away. The tench is thrashing at the edge of the reeds, with its nose just them, the line is singing in the cold morning breeze and the tinca's powerful tail breaks the still surface of the water.

Everything holds and after some short runs close in, the tench is within reach of the awaiting net and its in.

Both tench are weighed, the biggest goes 5lb 8oz, the biggest so far of the season and the other is a 4lb+ fish.

Time for a couple of piccies.

Soon both are returned and after recasting both rods, I sit back in the chair with another cuppa after a hectic 15 mins of tinca action.

But the rest isn't for long, and the sights are that the bream have muscle themselves onto the baited area.
This is soon apparent when the middle rod is away and the nodding of the rod tip, equates to the first bream of the day.
This is soon jointed with a second and third. All this by 9am.

The margin rod bobbin starts to lift slowly, but steadily and its soon at the top. The baitrunner starts to click ever so slowly and stops. I lift the rod and its away quick as you like. This one now knows its hooked and the battle is on. This fish is not heading for the reeds, but is heading left into the other lines. It passes under the middle line, but bolts out over the left hand line momentarily and heads for the mark float line.

I'm in a right old mess, but the tench is still on and within range of the net. Its in first time around and its not as big as it fought.

Unhooked and estimated to be around 4lb+ mark, so he back in the water with you, so I can sort out the tangle of line, feeders etc.

After turning the air blue, the lines are untangled and back out. But I've not got time to rest because bream numbers 4,5 & 6 turned up in quick succession.

The morning is now warm and the place is alive with birds, bee's and bugs. The mornings frost is a mere distant memory and its t-shirt weather.
The morning turned into midday and the bites dried up for a hour, time for lunch. But the bream must have been taking a minimum 20 minutes, because the bobbins were soon twitching again and bream after bream after bream followed and soon. I had had eleven bream  to 5.1/2lb banked along with three tench to 5lb 8oz.

With bait running low, and afternoon turning into evening, it was time to pack up and head for home.
If I was honest, I would have preferred the eleven bream to have been tench. But all in all, it was a great days fishing.

Tightlines.