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Beats watching the Queen's Speech

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That's that out of the way for another year! In my usual festive spirit I got up, had breakfast, varnished three rods and set them spinning then got the flask, food, bait and gear together to go have an afternoon's piking knowing I'd have the pick of the swims!

It's always a bit of a lottery picking swims when you haven't a clue where the pike are. A mate of mine caught a couple yesterday, so I chose a swim about as far away from where he fished as possible. Even though it's only a few days past the winter solstice the sun is setting noticeably later, so I'd have five and a half hours to move about a bit - without the risk of some other angler being in any swim I fancied.

The wind was light to brisk and not particularly cold despite the clear bright sky putting just enough of a ripple on the water to fuel my confidence. That said the water was clear enough to give me slight misgivings with the sunshine that I was expecting to carry on until dusk. The usual suspects were used as baits on the standard semi-fixed lead float leger rigs. A lamprey head got dropped in the margin to my left, a headless joey mackerel and a herring tail being cast out a little further to be twitched back at intervals.

Maybe it was the sunshine that set the great tits off chinking away in advance of spring. At one time there I could hear at least four of them staking out their territories. The one in the hawthorn close by being particularly insistent and loud, seeming to grow hoarse at one point. I suspect that was actually a change of call, but it did make me think it had given itself a sore throat!

 Although we've had a few frosts and some chilly weather there are still a few scraps of lily pad to be found floating in the margins. In the shallower water there's still fresh looking weed attaching itself to the hooks. While I'm all in favour of mild winters enough of a cold snap to kill off the weed wouldn't be too much of a hardship for me to bear.

After an hour I was contemplating a move when the sounder warbled in my pocket and the margin float drifted in closer to the trailing willow branches. Winding down and heaving I felt the line plucking off whatever was below the surface under the bush.

Once more a pike hooked at very close range did nothing more than make slow, wide head-shakes. I'd much prefer it if they would bolt off taking line under pressure to drive the hooks well home. Too many a head-shake has seen the trebles fly free. That wasn't the case this time, although once in the net my forceps were only required to remove the hooks from the mesh.

This was a nice clean fish, no signs of mouth damage or missing scales and filling out nicely for the time of year. Quite an orangey-yellow fish too.My guestimate was close after the needle of the Avons had settled at a few ounces over fourteen pounds. Not big enough to bother with a self take. Not even on Christmas Day. The lamprey head was still oozing blood so it got cast out again while I gave the swim another half hour. Then I moved.

After another hour I moved again. There's a swim I've had in mind to end the day on all season but have always got distracted by other choices. Today it seemed like the ideal spot to end the session. The wind had been blowing into that swim all day and at three it had dropped a bit. The sun came out as I packed the gear for the move then there was a Monkey's Wedding as soon as I set off. There wasn't supposed to be rain.

No sooner had I got the baits out in the new swim and the brolly up than the rain stopped. Typical. As it turned out a few more light showers drifted over before dark so the brolly cam in handy. My shemagh also came in handy as a makeshift hat. No sooner had I opened the rucksack up today than I realised my wooly hat was missing.

While the sun was out and I was reasonably sheltered my ears were warm enough. However, I knew that when the sun set it would be a different story. That's the trouble with having jug-ears.

A DIY turban might not be the most stylish of headgear, but it sure kept the old lugs toasty. Good job I don't give a toss what I look like so long as I'm warm!

Although I felt sure this last spot would be good for a run by the time the headtorch would required it wasn't. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I could easily have sat it out in the penultimate swim, which is pretty much a banker for a run or two at last knockings - and something decent had flattened the water within casting range - but I like to try different options when I can rather than tread the same ground. One pike for Christmas was more than I'd hoped for anyway.


Over and done with

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The sun set on my final (blank) session of the year yesterday. I would have ventured out again this morning if it hadn't been fora customer calling round. After he'd gone the weather went downhill as forecast putting paid to any ideas of an afternoon outing. Of course the rain didn't prove as bad as the forecast and I've probably blown my last chance for a pike until next year.


I don't think I've fished any more than ten miles from home in 2014, which is reflected in my magre results in terms of big fish. Thankfully I no longer worry too much about catching the biggest fish I can, putting more store on fishing when and where I'll enjoy being by the water catching decent sized fish for the water in question. While I've enjoyed the fishing I've done the waters haven't lived up to expectations. A monster eel water produced the skinniest eels I've ever seen and suffered from a plague of dog walkers and idiot anglers. That one's been crossed off the list for next summer. The tench fishing never really got going. It was not just me though, so that water will be tried again and possibly earlier if the weather is mild enough in March.

Instead of measuring the fish you catch against national standards, which is daft if you live 'up north', it's better to compare them to what's available locally.  On that basis roach over a pound and a quarter, a two pound plus eel and a few mid-double figure pike to over 17lb haven't been too bad a reward. Of the two tench I caught one was over five and a half pounds which really shouldn't be sniffed at. It was by far the biggest I've caught locally. Given that some of the fish have been venue PBs and that I haven't fished as often as I used to do I think I've faired okay for an average angler fishing average waters. You can only catch what's in front of you, after all.

And so another annual notebook is retired and added to the pile.


Once more I failed to get round to fishing the rivers for some unaccountable reason. Being lazy it's probably the irritation of putting the river gear together again that's held me back. I'm sure that if I do put in a river session the bug will bite again. The same goes for my threatened return to perch fishing. Part of my inertia is certainly a reluctance to go over the same ground. I've noticed that I rarely spend more than three years fishing any particular venue even if I haven't had the best out of the fishing. As I get older I seem to get fed up of waters even sooner.

Although I never make firm plans there's still plenty of things I could have a go at. Maybe I'll get round to chasing that silly sturgeon I kept forgetting about this year for a challenge in 2015. Or (but probably not) I might have a try for some carp... It's not so much that I want to catch carp, more that I've seen some that are an unknown quantity. The problem is that I don't want to catch them, but rather I'd like to catch them. If I really wanted to catch carp I'd put the right kind of effort into their pursuit. Sod that for a game of soldiers! As long as I can keep on putting a bend in a rod in pleasant surroundings that'll do for me.

That big pike feeling

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 Monday was one of those days when looking out of the window at a perfect winter's day drove me to drop my plans and go piking. I had that feeling. I even knew that I had to fish an area that doesn't get much attention. And I knew the spot I a had to end the afternoon in.

As I headed towards the first swim from which I was to work my way back to the soon-to-be-hotspot a pair of bullfinch flew ahead of me, looking a little like miniature jays showing their white rumps to me.

It was sunny and mild. Being by the water soaking up the earthy colours of the reeds and alders made perfect sense. Three baits were spread around the swim. One was the inevitable lamprey half, the other two were  a bluey tail and a pointless sardine. The more distant baits got twitched back at intervals. Another pointless exercise that seems to work miracles for other pikers.

Two duck sprang up from the flock of mallards hugging the far reeds that didn't look mallardish. When I managed to get the bins on them I was surprised to see a pair of pintail circling before disappearing into the distance.

After the usual hour I moved and repeated the procedure of positioning baits and working a couple back for another hour before the final move. With the baits out in the last swim of the day and the light fading later than it had been, both because of the days passed since the solstice and the clear sky, my confidence was high. It was only a matter of time before one of the floats moved. Shortly after four the close in lamprey head was away. It hadn't gone far before stopping as I stood up. It moved again, nice and steady as I got to the rod. That was its cue to stop. Dead. It moved no more. I wound the rig in and the teeth marks in the bait were dripping blood. Hard to tell if that had been the big fish I had the feeling about or not. Back it went.

I still felt like there was a chance. Even as I wound the rods in at five o'clock, a more civilised hour to be wrapping up at, I expected a float to wobble. It was not to be. Walking back to the car in the dark the dew on the grass was shining brightly in the light of my head torch like the reflective tape on a fireman's uniform.

Work commitments kept me away from the water on Tuesday and Wednesday, and were set to do the same today until that feeling came back. A five o'clock finish meant I could squeeze a couple of hours in after boxing off what work I could do. No time to fill a flask, and no need for such a short session. I was in two minds about where to head for. I doubted there'd be a second chance in the missed run swim but the wind seemed to be blowing off that bank and I fancied a change of tactic on one rod.

I think the Law of Sod had more to do with the wind actually blowing across the swim than from behind it than the Laws of Physics. I still made the change to my rig anyway. Although I had left my mini-drifter behind I felt sure that floating braid would enable a simple float to drag a small herring through the water under one of my dumpy pencil floats. The sardines and blueys remained in the freezer meaning that I had sensible lamprey and mackerel baits on the float leger rigs

For just this eventuality I had bought some jumbo split shot. My do everything rig was soon relieved of it's ounce and a half bomb and two shot clipped onto a loop of nylon which took its place. The small herring was secured to the trace with a few turns of red elastic and the whole lot was cast out. The sardines and blueys remained in the freezer meaning that I had sensible lamprey and mackerel baits on the float leger rigs.


The drifting bait was recast to cover different lines, the far bait was twitched back. I moved for the final hour and repeated the process, except the drifted bait had the shot replaced by a longer link and a bomb to hold the bait over some remaining weed. There didn't seem to be much in the way of birdlife about. Not even fieldfares or blackbirds. Just a few coots and tufties on the water and a couple of blue tits in the hawthorns. On such days pike are often absent too. And so it proved.  That big fish feeling had failed me. That's blank number three, which should see me change venue or species, but as the first blank was last year and I did have a run on Monday I'll call it one blank for now!

Spot the difference

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Although I am actually keen to get out and try to catch some pike I find myself dogged by work. Which is not to say I'm complaining, for January and February are the tackle trade's quietest months as a rule. My mate shuts shop on Wednesdays from the New Year until Easterish, and one long-gone shop used close for the whole of February. The problem I have is psychological. Once the sun drops below the horizon my work hormone levels plummet. I simply cannot get motivated to do anything productive in the dark hours. At least it's a bit lighter in the mornings so I can just about start work around nine these days!

While waiting for some glue to set I thought I'd take some photos to show the difference between the centres of the aluminium oxide centres of the Fuji BSVOG rings I fit as standard and the Alconite centres of the BSVAG pattern which a customer has requested. The frames are identical but the Alconite centres are markedly slimmer. Naturally there's a price premium to pay for that!



This is teh first time I've fitted BSVAGs. I still prefer the BMNAG frame for aesthetic reasons, and the practicality of the rolled frame, if I don't want to go to the expense of Silicone Carbides on my own rods. If you really must have 50mm butt rings then the choice is between BSVAGs or Kigans as the BSVOGs get really clunky at 50mm. There's not much in it in terms of price but the Fuji frames are much more nicely finished than those of the Kigans.

L to R: BSVOG, Kigan, BSVAG (40mm)

Catfish rods and ****ing technology

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I continue to be kept away from the water by work and non-arriving parcels. So here's another post about rods and a big moan...

Once more I've been working on catfish rods.As yet nobody who has ordered cat rods has gone for what will be my standard build (although the next set in the pipeline will be close enough), which is holding up my getting a page devoted to the rods on my website. Below is the latest handle configuration on a 10ft Ballista catfish blank.


My standard handle will be similar, but with parallel Duplon between the Fuji butt cap and the reel seat and the foregrip will be the same style. Rings will be the usual BSVOG starting with a 40mm butt ring followed by six more reducing in size to a 10mm and a heavy duty, flanged, BUHT tip ring.

Now the moan...

My usually reliable internet hosts migrated the DLST webshop to a new platform (as I think the jargon has it) the other day and promised it would be a seamless transiition apart from some cosmetic alterations. Like hell it was. They've managed to remove any means of accepting on-line payments with no apparent means of reinstating them. That's not all that's gone haywire, but it's the most important thing.  I'm not a happy Lumby...

If you'd like to order any of my stuff you can find most of it here. Just put the order together in an e-mail to dave@dlst.co.uk. I'll work the total out and send you a Paypal invoice which can be paid by Paypal or card.

As soon as I've beaten my service provider into submission with a frozen mackerel and they have sorted the problems out to a satisfactory level I'll report back.

Enough's enough

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The website frustration, which I just can't be bothered with trying to sort out right now, and my  workload was driving me nuts and finally drove me out in an attempt to beat the oncoming foul weather yesterday.

I tried to find a spot that was sheltered from the chilling wind, and almost succeeded. The trouble was it was in a swim I've had next to no success in. However, it did allow me to cover a lot of water by casting baits out and working them back to me every half an hour. Which was what I did for the first two hours.


Despite the touch of colour in the water I wasn't feeling very confident. Unlike the robin that came to see me. No doubt used to being fed maggots and scraps of sandwiches it was out of luck as I had neither maggots not sandwiches with me. Even so it was finding plenty of small invertebrates in the mud that had been paddled up in the damp grass around the swim.


After those two blank hours I was getting restless and had a move. That was the cue for the weather to change from overcast with sunny spells to overcast with rain. I was a little happier in the new swim though, having caught from it in the past. Not this time. The whole place seemed lifeless. Yet another day when there was no pike activity to my rods and little bird activity around the water. With the hawthorns all but bare of berries there's nothing to tempt the winter thrushes. Even the tits made only a brief appearance and the goldfinch flocks were elsewhere or keeping low. To be honest I was glad when I packed up. It had been ne of those sessions. Not even fishing two bits of lamprey made a difference.

Back on the rod front I've fitted another Alps reel seat to a spinning rod for a customer. I have to confess that these Alps seats are exquisitely machined. Very nice if you like that sort of thing but no more practical than a bog standard Fuji seat.


All reel seats with inserts for decorative purposes require extra faffing about to fit to a rod. The one in question required more than usual. It's typical of designers to make things look pretty without giving a thought to how they'll be put to use. A reel seat has to be well bonded to the rod blank. That means there has to be enough of a gap for glue to fill. It's obvious from the photo that there's not much space for glue with this seat, and what there is is at each end. Still, a little ingenuity (not to mention a bit of bodging...) has done the trick.

One more thing. Fuji's composite reel seats were rightly hailed as an advance when they were introduced. They were not only corrosion proof, they were warmer to the touch than the all metal reel seats that were standard in the seventies and before. To my mind this fad for fancy machined aluminium reel seats is a step backwards, no matter how nice they look. Not that they all look nice. Some are plain ugly!

Solid

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With work well under control I was all set to pick up a pint of maggots tomorrow for a roach session. Fortunately I went to have a look at the roach lake and found its surface less than fluid.Testing the ice in the margin it was at least an inch thick. That was that plan scuppered!


Temperatures are forecast to rise (slightly) over the next few days (but this morning's frost wasn't predicted) so it might have thawed out by the time another batch of blanks arrive next week. Better try and find some moving water to soak some baits in before I get busy again.

Among the odd jobs I have had recently have been fitting Tip Light clips to a couple of beachcasters. Nice and easy to do and it does make a better looking, and more permanent, job than insulation tape - or the cable ties I had to remove before fitting one of the clips!

Hurrah!!

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No, I haven't caught anything. I haven't even been fishing. The last couple of weeks have been filled with work, problem solving, and waiting around for deliveries - one of which was a box full of large Lureweave meshes! Which meant another day taken up dying the things...


It's a right messy process involving dye (surprisingly..), salt, and hot water in what does a good imitation of a tea urn - probably because it is a tea urn! This time I remembered to wear gloves so my hands didn't turn as green as the meshes. Once dyed the things have to be dried, which can't involve too much heat or the meshes go crinkly. You can probably guess how I know that...

That means they have to be hung up. Naturally the day of the dying was rainy. The garage was cold. The result being that once sufficient green water had dripped off the meshes hung from the garage roof beams they were brought inside to hang over the bath. I am now a very subtle shade of green all over.

Another potential cause for celebration is that I have my webshop back on line with a functioning checkout. I hope. I was told I'd be notified when the missing checkout was reinstated, but I found out when I decided to go look for myself. Thanks a bunch. Thanks too for putting all my prices up by a few pence resulting in me having to alter them all individually to be correct. That's what I've spend this evening doing. What a palaver. Fingers crossed things are back to normal. If they are I'll be working on the way the webshop looks next. All the fonts have gone haywire for one thing. Still, there do seem to be a few improvements - like the possibility of zoomed in views of products. Although I've not activated that yet as it'll mean taking new photos. One step at a time!

I thought I'd post the picture below as it's the closest I've come to catching a fish this year!


 Odd people, carp anglers...


All is right with the world

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At long last I'm getting on top of work, and despite the fact I should really have spent the afternoon doing mundane things like getting some cash out of the bank and replenishing my dwindling food larder I dug some bait out of the freezer and threw the rods in the car. I'd checked the weather forecast and rain wasn't due until eight. Yippee! I could leave the brolly at home.

Not having any info to go on there were two choices of where to fish. I took the lazy option and fished near the car, setting up with the wind in my face  made it feel half an overcoat cooler than it was behind shelter. Not that it was cold, by any means.


There were two bits of lamprey and a section of bluey that were left over from my last session in the bait bag, so they went on the hooks. Two close in and one further out. It wasn't long before I was wishing I'd bought some maggots yesterday and gone roach fishing. I wasn't feeling at all confident. So uninspired was I that I thought up a way to pop a bait up and even did it to relieve the tedium of watching floats doing nothing but rock in the wind.

After an hour and a half I packed everything away and went as far from the car as I could. I still managed to pick a swim with the wind in my face, but it felt a bit more like it. The lamprey head was still oozing blood so that got dropped in the right hand margin. The bluey section had got squashed when I inadvertently stood on it, and the other bit of lamprey was all washed out so I had to delve into the unopened bait packs. Mixed deadbait packs are often thought of as being aimed at 'noddy' pikers, but they sometimes contain decent baits. The pack I opened in search of a joey to decapitate also had a nice big herring tail in it. I lobbed the herring tail out to my left, not too far but away from the margin, and the macky got the big heave ho.

I'd not been settled down for long when there was a noisy swirl under the rod tops. It sounded like a pike striking (I was rooting in my bag at the time) but it could easily have been a grebe or even a cormorant, although nothing surfaced that I noticed.

At least one predator was in action. the first inkling I had was when I heard a redwing and then saw it flying determinedly followed by a sparrowhawk which gave up the chase and veered off over the reeds. A bleep from one of the Delks made me look up to see the left hand, herring, float bob, dip and then slide away accompanied by the musical trilling of the sounder. Bloody hell!

I untangled the landing net from a fallen branch then picked the rod up, engaged the reel and struck in one smooth movement. There was a dead weigh on the end of the line. This was either a big fish swimming slowly towards me or a teenager getting dragged in. I'd know which it was to be when it was directly in front of me. If it carried on going to the right it would be a big fish, if it rode to the surface it'd be a teenager. It didn't keep on going. It didn't do much. I'm not sure it wagged its tail once, and made a half-hearted wallow once over the net.

It didn't look like it would quite make the teens as it rested in the net while I readied the scales and stuff. Lifting the fish ashore, however, it had that chesty look that pike often get around this pre-spawn time of year and a chunky build. A couple of ounces over fourteen and  a half made up for my previous blanks.

The herring tail had been shaken free of the hooks during the 'fight', so I had to look for another bait. In the mixed pack there was what looked like a tiny herring. I put that on the hooks and lobbed it out. My confidence was boosted and with over an hour of daylight remaining I was sure of another chance.

Then I felt the rain. Surely it wasn't eight already? It was only a few spots, and the sky looked clearer in the direction the wind was blowing out of. I still put my jacket on, although there wasn't really much need but it kept the wind chill down anyway. As the cloud broke there was a brief, but lovely, sunset. People love photographing sunsets, and I'm no exception, but I don't think photographs do them justice. I keep trying though.


I was still sure that one of the floats would move before the last of the light had gone. As all too often is the case, my certainty was misplaced. With the rain blown over and the wind dropping  I shoved my jacket back in the rucky and traipsed back to the car in a better frame of mind than I'd left it. I might not have got much fishing done so far this year, but I've had a fix now and feel more content with my lot.

Catch up time

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I knew I was going to get busy, so a week last Thursday I fled to the waterside after lunch. It was a lovely pre-spring day of sunshine with a wind to ruffle the surface. A bit bright for pike until dusk, but that didn't stop me trying a few swims before settling into the one I'd caught from on the previous session for the last two hours.


It was around five when a few small fish started to show, leaping in the wavelets. Pike action was anticipated because such activity had preceded the run last time out. Sure enough at ten past the middle float, with a legered bluey tail on the hooks below, dipped then set off on a steady run. I picked the rod up, wound the reel handle to disengage the baitrunner, felt the weight of a fish and struck. All too briefly the fish pulled back before the bait came free. The hooks had shifted in the bait but it wasn't badly mauled. With the upper hook repositioned securely enough for another cast back out went the bait. Not quite to the same spot, but close enough. Thinking I'd probably blown my chances I sat back in the low chair and sulked.

Twenty minutes later there was a single bleep from the sounder in my fleece pocket. The floats didn't seem to have moved. Odd strong gusts had been causing single bleeps from time to time. One of the few drawbacks to braid is that it is more easily blown about than mono. Two more bleeps and a scan of the floats showed that the middle one was moving just as the sounder began a continuous wail. This run seemed more positive and my strike was met with a sustained resistance.

Just like the fish from the last session all there was was a weight that could have been a middling fish or something better. As I drew the pike closer I felt that sensation of the line plucking over a fin, or maybe a hook slipping. And again. If there was a light hook hold I wanted the fish in the net quickly. A rod length out there was a big boil on the surface as the pike changed direction and came towards me from the left. Then I got her head up which resulted in an open-mouthed head shake with flared gills. Fearing a loose hold for the hooks I hustled the fish into the net and breathed a sigh of relief. It looked a longer fish than I'd had all winter, and chunky round the shoulders.


Leaving the net staked in the edge I got the scales and sling readied before lifting what felt like a respectable weight ashore. That was the cue for a mad twisting and writhing session from the pike. After the untangling session I found the hooks were free and my fears might well have been grounded. Lifting the sling I suspected that I wasn't going to quite manage a twenty. So it was. far from unhappy I sacked the fish and set up the camera for a few self-takes. Before getting the sack out of the margin I wound the other two rods in. There was a chance of another run, but I couldn't face the mayhem that would cause! Two shots of each side and back she went, swimming away strongly. By now it was almost dark and I tidied the swim by the light of my Petzl.

The following day a load of blanks and fittings arrived and I've been catching up with work. Conditions have been ideal for more pike sessions but I haven't managed sufficient free time to make the effort. I haven't even felt like writing anything for the blog until this lull in proceedings over a week later.

Now I'm almost on top of things it's got more springlike still and the pike might well be thinking of spawning, like the frogs in my pond have. Bang on cue the first spawn appeared today, previous years seeing it arrive on the 7th, with last year being early on the 4th. Yesterday while waiting for some glue to dry I went and photographically pestered the frogs. Today a head count from a photo revealed at least 83 of the croaking amphibians were in residence!


I also played around shooting some video footage. Video is something I'm sure I could enjoy making. If only it wasn't so demanding of gadgets, and expensive gadgets at that, to get great results. A tripod or some other means of stable support makes a big difference. I used a Gorrillapod for most of the video and the difference is marked between that and the hand-held stuff. The wind noise from the cameras' built in mics is annoying, so an external mic with a dead cat would be required to improve that. Then there's the matter of pans and zooms to make things more interesting and it's all outlay that makes still photography look cheap! Anyway, this is the result - edited quickly using primitive software.


With the warming trend expected to continue I might hang up the pike rods for this season and break out the roach rods for a couple of sessions before attacking the tench with carp tactics. Well, tench tactics didn't work last spring so I've nothing to lose. I just hope that I can avoid catching carp.

Hard at it

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The good thing about being self-employed is that I can be masochistic listening to England playing cricket in Australia at thee in the morning without having to think about getting up and going to work. The bad thing is that when I have a lot of work I can't put it off. Which means that I have had my nose (almost literally) to the grindstone since the last blog entry and am still trying to catch up with new builds, repairs and refurbs.


All this means that I missed the end of the river season without making a trip to the local drains for some back end piking. Perhaps the tench will be bubbling by the time I can manage a fishing session. Although that usually means they are uncatchable!

Back at the pond the frogs have spawned and are now dispersing. Time to keep checking the development of the tadpoles, which should be fairly safe from avian predators with all the weed to hide in. Fingers crossed.


Moving with the times

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A few weeks ago my ancient mobile phone packed up on me and I was forced to have a 'smart' phone. That meant I an now able to 'enjoy' the delights of phoneography. I'm sure that more expensive phones are better as cameras, but one thing is for sure, in decent light even my simple 6 megapixie can make pictures which are good enough for blogging. If good enough means in focus and correctly exposed. In deference to the shape of screens these days I took most of my pictures in the native 16:9 aspect ratio. Yesterday I took the opportunity of a free and sunny afternoon to chase some roach at Sheep Lake. While I was there I played around with the phone and my other cameras. See if you can tell what kind of device made them!


After videoing the frogs in my pond I thought I'd also try my hand at what seems to be taking over fishing blogging for people who can't write - video. Way back I made a few clips with my old cameras when fishing, but things really have moved on in just as few years. Even compacts can produce high quality results. I don't own, and have no plans to buy, a GoPro with it's give-away neo-fisheye lens that gives every video shot with one the same look. Fine for a few point-of-view footage, but it becomes tedious when used for everything.


Not having had the roach rods out since this time last year it had been a bit of a struggle to find what I required. The rods were still rigged up but the feeders had gone AWOL. After a bit of rummaging around I scraped together enough to  see me through a session. I even threw in an in-line cage feeder I'd tried once before. That proved to be a good move as when I started to tackle up I found one of the power gum rigs was goosed.

Two rods fished open end feeders filled with crumb and pellet mix with maggots on the size 20 hooks - a single maggot on one, two on the other. These were cast out to a marked spot. The third rod had the in-line feeder, and a small piece of fake corn as bait. This was chucked as far as I could get it and left to its own devices.

The afternoon was warm with little wind. Most pleasant to sit back and soak up some sun between re-filling feeders and recasting. A nice relaxing way to spend some time after the frantic (by my standards!) rod building of the last month.

When the sounder started to bleep I was amazed to see the spool spin briefly on the corn rod before the bobbin dropped back. A liner? I wound the rig in to find the stop above the feeder had slipped. A take. Back out went the rig.

The light breeze, only just enough to ruffle the water, swung through 180 degrees. A dabchick cruised round a bush and crash-dived when it spotted me. Canada geese made a racket. Around four thirty the temperature started to drop. I'd worked up a sweat walking to the swim and had removed my fleece from under the bunny suit before tackling up. It was warm but not warm enough for me to manage without the suit. I was glad to put the fleece back on and replace my baseball cap with the woolly one. Not to mention put on my fleece mitts.

It was ten past five when the sounder warbled again. This time the same spool was spinning steadily. I lifted the rod and felt a fish. Not knowing what to expect I knocked the anti-reverse off just in case it was something verminous. It didn't seem to be. In fact it felt like a roach. No runs just a slowly zig-zagging path back towards me with a few gentle head-shakes. IT felt like a decent roach too. Under the rod tip I had to steer it away from the other two lines to prevent an almighty mess. Been there. Don't want to do that again. When the fish popped up it had a red eye. It's scales weren't large and silvery though. They were tiny and olive green. As soon as the fish saw me it started to fight like a tench should!

Despite waking up it slid into the landing net at the first attempt. Far from a big tench, maybe a couple of pounds (or five to someone who never weighs tench...) at least it had saved a blank. But was it telling me something? Should I get the tench rods out?


When the light began to fade my hopes of a roach or two rose. It was not to be. The maggot bobbins didn't so much as flicker. My dilemma now is whether to have another roach session (I've bought some more feeders in case) or to break out the tench rods. Decisions, decisions.

Below is my cobbled together video footage. Watch and be bored to tears! The trouble with video is that to do it well you need to shoot a lot of footage, from different viewpoints simultaneously. You also realise you need things like external microphones to improve the sound quality. Then a few filters might come in handy and before you know it you're going fishing in order to make videos!


Rats, bats and bags

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With nothing caught there's been nothing to write about. I tried for the roach again and failed miserably on a warm and sunny afternoon and evening session. I was on the verge of packing up early when a roach actually rolled over my bait tempting me stop on until it was cold and going dark. I did spot some carp though, which looked like they'd be easy to catch. Of course, when I returned a couple of days later they had done a disappearing act, but hoping that pretending to fish for carp I might catch a tench I gave it a go. And failed miserably on all counts. One more blank and it would be three strikes and out.

Luckily the first test in the West Indies distracted me and I didn't feel the urge to wet a line until yesterday afternoon, when with no work to be getting on with until more blanks arrived, and the sun shining again, I took the same 'carp' gear and bait for another outing because I was too lazy to swap the two rods for my three tench rods in the quiver. Not to mention that I'd only replaced two of teh batteries in my three cheap and cheerful alarms...


I had an early tea and timed my getaway to coincide with the lunch break so as to miss none of the cricket. There were two grains of popped up fake corn over a sprinkling of pellets in the margin, and a 12mm Pellet-O in a bag of pellets on a long chuck by five thirty. Just in time for the start of the afternoon session at the test. I picked up the new Sonubaits catalogue/magazine the other day and it looks like the 12mm Pellet-Os have been dropped. Bloody typical.


Although the air temperature was a reasonable 12 the wind had a hint of north in it. Despite picking a swim that wasn't facing into the wind I was still getting chilled by it. I should have wrapped up warmer. The birds were unphased and a blackbird and a chaffinch were taking turns singing for one particular high hawthorn branch. I heard the inevitable chiffchaff and saw a number of groups of swallows passing over heading north. Great crested grebes were behaving in a way I've not witnessed before. Bow waving at speed like fast moving carp. They were also chasing each other about. I think one pair was nest building and another bird was intruding. With the first blacthorn blossoms starting to show I was hoping the tench would too.


These days I'm a far more impatient angler than I used to be. If nothing has happened after half an hour I start to get twitchy. After an hour's inactivity I start to get bored. I reckon that's why I am far more mobile in my pike fishing these days than I used to be.But the plan was to leave both baits out until they got picked up.

It was just gone seven when I saw the left hand, distance, bobbin drop back an inch then rise again. I was by the rod as the bobbin dropped like as stone and lifted into something that took a bit of line against the clutch. The damned clutch was too slack! After a couple of thumps whatever it was came in easily just like that tench the other week. This fish didn't wake up when it saw the net. Bream rarely do. Still, it was a start and I wasn't quite so bored.


A fresh bait'n'bag went out and I settled into listening to the cricket, watching the wildlife and scanning the water for signs of fish. Earlier I'd seen my first rat of the year, as dusk fell I spotted my first bats. Summer is on its way! I can never tell the difference between willow warblers and chiffchaffs unless I hear them sing. One or the other flitted past me and paused briefly in a bankside bush. The wind dropped a little after swinging more to the north, which didn't do much to warm me. Small fish had been topping all over the place in ones and twos from about six, and carried on until dark. No bubbles were seen and no bigger fish rolling. I started to get bored again...

It was half-eight when the bobbin on the margin rod lifted as the line tightened, dropped back, lifted and held, then sort of jiggled. Something had hooked itself. In the fading light it looked like a bream half the size of the first fish. In the net it looked more like a roach/bream hybrid. It was a plumpster whatever it was.


I cleaned the weed off the plastic baits and swung the rig back out for the last half hour. By nine I had had enough. Thoughts of tench were starting to buzz in my head. Even a cunning plan was starting to form. Trouble is there might be another eely distraction on the horizon. What I need to do is get organised.

Rod news

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I could write about another failure of a tench session when fishing carp style with bags of pellets produced another hybrid (which looked very much like the one I caught last Thursday...) but there wouldn't be much to write about apart from hearing and seeing my first whitethroat of the year.


I was forced on to the pod because I was a battery short in my cheap alarms and it's just a lot easier to set up in some of the swims. I might get myself three more of the quick release plates for the Delks to put on my non-piking banksticks. Anyway, the 11ft 2lb Torrixes continue to satisfy my needs. Maybe not quite what I'd like but the best 11ft option I've found. They match up well with the 4000D Baitrunners.


Talking of Torrix blanks, I'm not sure if the 12ft 1.25lb has been altered, but I've got a pair on the go for a customer at the moment that feel a whole lot nicer than the one I built for myself and quickly sold on. These blanks are quite like a longer version of the 11ft Chimera Avons I love to bits. They should make a nice 'specimen float' rod. So much so I might get one for myself!

Recent builds have included a set of three P-5s and an Axiom in brown, which combined with copper tipped chestnut whippings made for a really nice look.


My latest build is (the shame of it) a spod rod with Hamster Hoops. Harrison's bog standard 5lb spod rod has a bit of a reputation as a casting machine. I built myself one but found it far too stiff for the small spods I was using and the short ranges I was fishing at. If you need to chuck big spods a long way but don't want to pay silly prices it's the one to go for.


I suppose the spod rod could be used for catfishing, but given that one impatient customer couldn't wait for winter to give his X-1s an outing and took them catting there's probably no need for anything that beasty. Six fish to 48lb gave the X-1s a bit of a work-out, but didn't find them wanting when pulling fish away from snags by all accounts. Still on the subject of using rods for species they weren't intended for I'm informed that the Duellist 2 is ideal for float fishing livebaits for bass from a boat. At least my customers can catch fish even if I can't!

Double Whammy

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Even before I left home I knew I was on a hiding to nothing. New tackle is a sure-fire curse on fish catching, and nothing more jinxing than new bobbins. I'll admit to being a tackle tart when it comes to bobbins, after all they are something I spend a lot of time looking at in the vain hope they'll actually move. Although the Fox Black Label bobbins I had been using for a while now were perfectly functional - after I'd fitted the ball type clips - I wasn't keen on them being red. Isotopes were dimmed by them, but the only alternative to make them glow brighter was green. even worse than red!

This year Fox have introduced orange heads (apparently to fit with their corporate branding...), so I had to have some. Trouble is the standard size heads aren't available separately. That meant buying three complete indicators complete with hockey-sticks and, in order to get the right clips, Dacron cords. In a fit of madness I ordered up three small heads (which are available individually), three chains and three tiny isotopes. The idea being to have standard heads on my pod and the small ones on my sticks as the bobbins on my sticks don't have the isotopes inside them and they are all now smashed.


Daft as it sounds, and totally illogical, having a nice looking set up can sometimes inspire confidence. Content with my new look indicators the rigs went out to good looking spots. extra pellets were fired out over the two close range baits and I sat back sans-fleece in the evening sunshine.

Another guaranteed killer of sport is an east wind. Which was precisely what was blowing across the water. New gear and an easterly didn't exactly fill me with hope. So I pottered about taking photographs of my tarty set up.


Cook and Ali were making progress in Barbados after the usual batting disasters. A few bubbles were even appearing within range of a couple of my baits - on the right length but not the right line. My hopes were rising. As the sun lowered and the light changed I took more photos. Shooting into the light can make for attractive pictures. You can even use 'mistakes' like flare from a dusty lens to your advantage.


There was no movement on the new bobbins, no sound from the Delks, not even when the line lifted and tightened on the long-chuck middle rod. I left it alone expecting a liner, but the tightening and lifting carried on. When I picked the rod up there was a weight to be felt, a weight that was moving. On the way back there was no fight, just that weight as the fish came in easily kiting slightly to my left and the pads. One head shake and it kept on coming. Bream. I turned it away from the pads and towards the waiting net when the line went slack and I wound in a weed covered rig. Eh? I fear that ailing to change the rig to one with a larger hook to match the larger bait than last time out had been the cause of my downfall. I'd thrown my wicket away through over-confidence like Joe Root.

After recasting with a fresh bag of pellets on that rod the margin rod got cast a little further out to where bubbles had been rising. As the sun got lower and lower I wrapped up with my scarf, fleece, mittens and woolly hat. Evening swallows flew over the lake, followed by evening bats. Something or other had a couple of tugs at the close range fake corn. Probably small roach grazing over the pellets I'd scattered around the bait. That was that. It almost got me fired up for an early start today. But didn't.


It's May and the blackthorn is still in bloom with the hawthorn just budding. Everything feels a week or two later than this time last year. I definitely won't be getting the eel rods out until well into June this time round. So it looks like more not-tenching for the next few sessions when I can muster my rapidly dwindling enthusiasm.


Of mice and rats

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Bank Holiday Mondays are usually off my list of fishing days, but when the last one was warm and sunny I couldn't resist trying for some evening tench. My first choice swim was occupied but number two was free. The usual rigs and baits went out with the usual bags of pellets followed by sprinklings of pellets over the baits as they were all being fished close in. Around seven, as the cooling wind began to drop, fish started to roll and bubble. The new bobbins remained motionless. So I took more photos of them to relieve the boredom!

Whitethroats were active in the hawthorn, singing and flitting about. A song thrush perched on high and sang it's little heart out. A swan drifted gracefully by and picked up one of my baits. I wound that one in and whacked it out to deeper water.

Pacing around behind my swim I found the remains of a rat. The decaying corpse didn't stop it's relatives from scurrying around behind me when the sun had set. A few minutes before packing up time there were a couple of bleeps to the long chuck rod. Most likely liners. I was glad that the growing cloud cover was keeping the evening warm - because I'd left my fleece at home.It was encouraging to drive home in the dark with the thermometer reading still in double figures, even if the chippy was closed when I past by.

Work did its usual trick of keeping me occupied through the week. Which wasn't a problem as the rain had returned. Thursday was as sunny as it had been forecast to be but I didn't rush to get the rods out. The last few sessions hadn't seen much fish activity until seven so I felt there was little reason to rush.

Two of the rigs were simply retied to ensure reliable knots and cast out inside their pellet bags. The other rig got changed a little. I had been wondering if a longer hooklink might be worth a try and had tied one up in advance. My thinking being that four inch hooklinks might be burying the baits in the bottom weed. That rig got a different bait attached and was lobbed out to a nice looking gap in the pads to my left. The others were out in open water and near some pads on the right.

Almost as soon as I'd sat down the right hand bobbin dropped a fraction then remained still. Twenty minutes before seven it dropped again, then jiggled and rose before falling back once more. The result was a be-tuberculed bream around the three pound mark.


It was twenty past eight before the middle bobbin dropped slightly. This open water fish proved to be a hybrid a pound or so smaller than the previous two this season. Despite the surface going calm as the light faded and the wind dropped very little was showing in the way of fish. A bream had rolled in front of me but the only other fish topping were small roachy things. Bubbles were notable for their absence. Strange considering the conditions as the wind had been blowing not the bank I was fishing from all day. I was glad to have remembered my fleece this time because I needed it. Sure enough the car's thermometer was reading in single figures on the way home.

The tench, which are what I'm trying to catch, are continuing to play hard to get.I've heard of one or two being caught, and more being lost, but they're keeping well away from me. Maybe they'll wake up next week if the temperature rises as forecast.

Back at the work bench I've been dealing with the effects of mice on rod handles. I had a call from someone who had had mice nesting in his rod bag during the winter, making their nest from chewed up cork and Duplon - which must have provided fine insulation for them! In the tradition of the before and after photos you see of slimmers I photographed the ravaged handles in an unflattering way, and made a better attampt for the after pic...



Pest control

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Full of tenchy enthusiasm I set my alarm clock on Tuesday night so I could make an early start on what promised to be a hot spring day. It goes without saying that half an hour after I'd switched the alarm off I was still lying in bed. After a drive through the dawn I arrived at the lake with enough light to go fish spotting. So that was what I did. Not that I spotted any fish. Not tench at any rate. The only signs were small fish dimpling and rolling in the mirror calm surface.

It felt good to be up and around before the hum of traffic competed with the sedge warblers and whitehroats. That summery smell was in the air too. Despite seeing no signs of tench - which I rarely do on this water - I was happy enough in my choice of swim.

One bait to the edge of some pads to my right, one in open water straight in front and the third down the left hand margin. Continuing my 'carp' fishing approach I had fake corn on one and pellets on the other (if there wasn't a pointless boilie ban I'd be using Tuttis, but there is, so I'm not). For a change I was trying a Spicy Sausage pellet-O on the margin rod. In the vain hope that bream might not like the taste but tench will.

I'd not been fishing more than fifteen minutes when the left hand rod began twitching, the bobbin not moving. It sure looked like a bite. A bream bite. I picked the rod up and was surprised to connect with a fish that was almost in front of me. Judging by the feel through the line the fish must have taken the rig through weed as it cam towards me. Hence the lack of a drop-back as the line stayed tight. The fish was no bream either.

The scrap was good one. The fish hugged the bottom, zig-zagging around the swim trying to make for the pads without going on a run. I was convinced that it was a good tench. A really good tench. I just couldn't get it up on the surface. A big boil came up one time when I tried. I wasn't taking it easy on teh fish, but I was being careful. If that makes sense. Then it rolled. Tench don't have big golden scales. The gloves came off and the nuisance fish was skimmed into the net. It didn't even get weighed. A bit tatty with a split dorsal, some mouth damage and a few missing scales.


With that pest turning up so early I thought there might still be a chance of a tench or two after the disturbance. More mixed pellets were cattied out over the close range baits. The open water rig got recast further out with its accompanying bag. I watched the mist rolling over the water as the sun slowly rose to burn it away.

Warblers zipped hither and thither, a great tit foraged low down in the brambles, an orange tip flitted about. Even  the swans and Canada geese avoided my lines. Small fish continued to dimple and roll.  All was right with the world. Apart from the lack of tench.

My hopes began to fade when bubbles appeared close in to my right. Had they been the fizzy bubbles of tench I'd have moved one bait on top of them, but they were the bubbly bubbles of carp. With them in the area my hopes began to fade. Nontheless, as is always the case with my early morning sessions I fished on for longer than planned. By the time I'd called at the pasty shop on my way home it was near enough lunch time.

A-wop-bom-a-loo-mop-a-lomp-bom-bom!

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The weather and work have been discouraging me from putting the rod hours in  lately. Not to mention the lack of tench. Wednesday the 20th saw me sitting it out in the teeth of a strong north westerly. It was a bright evening but out in the open it was cold. Pop behind a thick bush and it was warm.

Dramatic clouds scudded by, the water sparkled and lily leaves flipped over showering spray as they did so. Had it been a hot dry wind it would have been enjoyable to behold, but having to wrap up in a bunny suit in late May doesn't inspire me when it comes to catching tench.

The now customary bag and pellet approach was in action. Trying to catty out freebies into the wind would have been futile in any case. It took a couple of hours for the bobbin on the corn rod to do a bream jig, and another hour for it to repeat the dance. Not even big enough to think about weighing and only grudgingly, and badly, photographed for the purposes of this blog. It was one of those sessions when I was glad to pack up

It's funny, that although I like fishing this water I'm frustrated by the rules. I don't like having my hands tied when I'm trying to catch fish. especially when there's things I'd like to try. Tenchy methods that have worked for me elsewhere. When a chance came to fish somewhere with fewer restrictions, but probably smaller tench, I gave it a go. Although it's not as attractive a venue I'd be able to give the LIttle Richards a go.

So it was I got my gear together for an overnighter. Or so I thought. Loading the barrow I realised that my sleeping bag and cover were back home. Thankfully the night was set to be mild. A rarity this spring. At least I hadn't forgotten my bunny suit! Everything was in place before dark and I was all set to watch the isotopes glow increasingly bright.

The bag approach was abandoned. Mainly because I'd forgotten them and the pellets I put in them. Instead I put PVA foan nuggets (salvaged from a parcel rather than bought in a tackle shop) on the hooks to make sure they stayed weed free. The main baiting of hemp and corn was done by catty. The double fake corn rig always gets used on one rod when I'm after tench, at least until they show a marked preference for something else. That was on the right. On the left was a dunmbell wafter on a longer than usual hooklink and in the middle were two 10mm boilies. Rooting in my bait cupboard I thought I'd grabbed a bag of Little Richards, but I hadn't. What I did have were some monster crabby things. They'd do. But I wasn't totally happy without the rock'nrollers.

Although  couple of liners every time I nodded off was all the action I had before packing up around nine and heading off to get some jobs done I'd enjoyed being out at night again. Having a barn owl fly past between my brolly and rods three times just after dawn almost made up for blanking.

A few days later I was back. This time with my sleeping bag... Also with a packet of choc chip cookies to nibble on - and the right 10 milly baits. I was buzzing! The hemp and corn was supplemented with a scattering of pellets, and the PVA bags used on a couple of the rigs. Not long after setting up the bobbin on the middle rod dropped back convincingly, jiggled, then began to rise. My strike met with the proverbial thin air. Not to worry. Everything felt right and the magic beans had got some interest. It was another mild night, but one completely uninterrupted by any sounds from the alarms. A few fishy noises were heard, but that was it. At least I'd got some shut eye.

A week later there was a dry night forecast and I thought I'd give it a go. The plan was to repeat my previous tactics. The only difference was that I shortened the hooklink on the wafter rod. I made sure that all mainline knots were retied and tested before casting out. Before dark there were bubbles bursting in the vicinity of the wafter. Not really fizzy enough for tench, but then again, maybe they were.

As the light faded fell the cloud cover remained keeping the temperature up. Unusually the wind didn't drop away at sunset. There was a good ripple, almost a light chop, on the water. Everything felt right for some action. It was 10.15 when the right hand bobbin dropped back sharply. I stood by the rod wondering if that was it when the bobbin jumped, then flew to the butt ring. The rod was hooped right over as soon as I picked it up, line peeling off the spool that I was trying to brake with my forefinger before knocking the anti-reverse off and engaging the gears. The line went slack. Cut above the sliding stop of the helicopter rig. I was baffled. The rig was replaced with an in-line set up. easier to rig up and something I have more faith in for big fish. Another wafter went out in a bag of pellets.

It was coming up for midnight, my eyelids getting heavy when the swim lit up bright red and the sounder box in the brolly ribs screeched. Little Richard was singing! Again the fish had run to the right, but the line didn't part on anything. After dark I take my specs off when intending to get some sleep, so what I could see in the light of my head torch was either a carp the hardest fighting bream on the planet! Despite the 2lb test curve of the eleven foot Torrix it didn't take me long to get the fish in the net. I'm going to have to take up carp fishing in earnest. That way I might start catching tench. The one saving grace was that the fish was a common and not a pot-bellied mirror.


Around one the wind began to ease. Not quite full the moon was still bright enough to cast long shadows. I don't know what it is about being by water on a warm night that I enjoy, but it does relax me. Even the reed warbler singing its erratic song all night didn't drive me nuts.

After a dawn brew I baited up with more hemp, corn and pellets. Checked the rigs and refreshed the baits. It took a while for the sun to rise and swing round and burn the dew off the grass, but a proper late spring morning was in prospect. A bacon butty, and a brew accompanied by a custard cream or two set me up in good style. It wasn't even a surprise when something made off with my little orange balls just before seven. At first I thought it might be another nuisance fish but when it gave up easily I realised it was my first tench-by-design of the year. One of the smallest male tench I've caught since I fished for them on the local canal in the early 1980s!


One thing about concentrating on big fish waters is that the average size is high. That's why they are big fish waters. The canal tench were big if they were over three pounds, even the females. The biggest I ever caught was 3lb 12oz, most were around two to two and a half. On the big tench waters such fish are almost unheard of and fives are about as small as you'd get. Small tench don't fill me with hopes of big ones. They are kind of cute though.


It'll be June tomorrow with the hawthorn is still in fresh flower and the elder not yet in bloom. It really is a late spring this year. Maybe the increasing temperatures that are supposed to be on the way later in the week will get things back on track and I'll manage to nobble some more tench by design before the eel bug bites me again. Or should I give in and deliberately target pests?

Rods for sale

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The fishing has been dire. Hence nothing to report, unless you'd like to read about bootlace eels and blanking. It's been so bad I've given up. I think the eel rods will be in action next time I get the urge to wet a line. At least I should get a few runs - even if it's a return to the frustration of missing 90% of them!

Despondency
Rooting around in my stock of blanks the other week I found a 12ft 2.5lb Torrix in gloss finish. I don't know why it was there. I probably double ordered it. It's now built up 'carp style' with six Kigan 3D rings(40-12) plus tip Rover style, Japanese shrink butt grip with stainless button, DPS reel seat with stainless collars. All lettering underneath the rod.

Harrison factory build is listed as £288 RRP. I'm shifting this one for £200 inc delivery.




A few weeks back I put a quote in the to-build and ended up mistakenly building three Ultra Matt P-5s with cork handles and stainless trimmings. Usual Rover Ringing with six BSVOG plus tip, 30mm butt ring. These would normally be £645 for the three but this set are on offer for £600 inc carriage.



Full Circle

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For some unknown reason the members of The Pikers Pit forums voted for me to write the 100th article for The Pike Pool blog which features contributions from forum members.

I decided to write a  brief look back at my piking life which you can read here.

Nostalgia ain't what it used to be!

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