Burrows 'Echoes From The Valley' Part 11

These next set of blogs are going to be accounting for a series of sessions down on Burrows, it's these 'last' few sessions that will see me leave the water indefinitely. Part of me feels like it's a shame to walk away, I've fished the place for over a decade and it's the one place that I seem to have a special connection with. My reasons for pulling off are pretty simple really, firstly, I don't agree with what has been done with all the swims. The banks went from looking rough, ready and natural to suddenly having timber planks and wood chip thrown everywhere, not only that but the addition of a few extra pegs and their positioning has now created plenty of opportunity for stupidity in regards to anglers fishing on top of each other. Along with that, once a few 30's got caught and were plastered all over social media, anglers that usually didn't fish the place came flocking down. Finally, for the first time in ten years, me having two arguments in one week with two pricks who clearly didn't understand the concept of manors. I finally decided that it was best that I moved on and focused my attention elsewhere, when the carp circus comes knocking I've got to find the exit quick.

So let us turn the clock way back, the day of my session pretty much started out like any other. I arrived at the lake nice and early and decided to make my way round to where I'd had all my winter bites from. I was going to keep everything simple, pretty much just mimicking what I'd done all winter. Whilst I was slipping, sliding and wrestling with the barrow, I kept my eyes on the water, down past the muddy double and onward up the path. I came to a stand still to catch my breath opposite a swim that I call the 'bottleneck', this is an area of the water that I've never had much luck from. It use to be a 'hot spot' but over the years it seemed to dry up. Looking down in the edge there appeared to be several  patches of silt that had clearly been kicked up. The water had both the look and consistency of soup, milky looking bubbles still lingered on the surface. Carp had definitely been feeding there, after witnessing this, my plan instantly changed. I was working on the basis that if carp 'had' been there then there's a good chance they might still be in the area. I dipped into my bait bucket, showered the area with some 'tiger-fish', did an 'about-face' and made my way back up the path down through the woods and into the 'bottleneck' swim.

  

Swim Position 'Birds Eye View'

It was going to be a straight forward approach, I'd place both my baits a rod length or so either side of where I'd seen the silt patches. Any ounce of 'cool' I'd been exhibiting had very swiftly vacated my body, I was in a minor panic, mixed with a crazy excitement. If carp were still about I wanted to be getting my baits out as soon as possible. If today was to end in a fish I'd already made up my mind that over the next few weeks, in between my other sessions, the 'bottleneck' was the swim that I'd focus all my attention on. Just like my winter approach, I'd come down on a regular basis and put my baits on the same spots. With most of the other swims on the lake, you can pretty much guarantee that a lot of different bait will be going in and a lot of different anglers will be fishing all the obvious 'go-to' areas. Because this specific part of the water gets very little pressure, I knew that 9 times out of 10, when I'd come down to fish, this swim was going to be vacant. If I stuck to week days I could 'covertly' get on with my own thing, build the swim up and hopefully get some results. It was all dependent on how today was going to work out.

View From The Swim

Over the weeks that followed, I started to get a feel for the make up of the swim. There's a fair amount going on and I found it interesting. The marginal areas to the right hand side of my spot were surprisingly deep close in and then it gradually sloped down to 8ft, the bottom of the slope worked out to be just over half way across. I wanted to be positioning my bait no deeper than half way down the slope. I wasn't getting any real 'DONKS', it felt like a mix of silt & clay. Directly opposite me where the silt had been kicked up. It was about 3ft close in, about half a rods length out it fell away sharply to 5.5ft then gradually sloped down to 7-8ft. 

The left hand side of the swim fell away in 3 sections, it was relativity uniform close in and had a couple of sloping drop offs until it fell away to the deeper water. I wanted to be fishing the shallow sections of this area, it made no sense in targeting the deeper parts. From the communication I was getting every time the lead 'thumped' on the bottom. It appeared to be to same make up as the right hand spot, which was silt & clay. It's in these situations a deeper sonar would be an amazing tool to map the swim quickly but casting a bare lead about really helps to build up a mental picture. How accurate that picture is, it's hard to say but I feel better having something in mind to work with.

Tiger-Fish With A Fleck Of Color

Now with everything setup and ready to go I made one 'roughly judged' cast with each rod, both landed pretty much where I wanted them to. Having already chucked a couple of handfuls of bait in the swim from the other side, I opted to 'go relatively heavy' and scatter about half a kilo around the whole area. The reasoning behind this was 'instinct' more than anything else, feeling the temperature of the water and judging by the low clouds and atmosphere, I just knew in my gut that the conditions were right to bait heavy. Also from a 'passing thought point of view', I wanted enough bait out there to pull whatever fish might be ghosting around down onto my bait. If they didn't feed here on a regular basis I knew I had to keep the bait going in, with the hope that it would end up being an area that they got into the habit of visiting with the intention to feed. Obviously 'all the above' was wishful thinking but with a little bit of conviction and 'single bloody mindedness' it might just work out.

Long Hairs

Rig Talk

For the last 4 years or so I've been using an extra large rig ring on my blow back rigs. I've been asked a number of times why I do this, I'll explain. I personally think the more movement you give the hook bait the better the hooking potential. Through the years I've both read about and witnessed with my own eyes, carp picking up a hook bait and instead of bolting, sitting there blowing and sucking on the boilie trying to eject the hook. This was something I was told about many many years ago by Graham at Crowborough tackle. He explained that, on one specific local club water called 'Wirgol', the carp had a tendency not to bolt, instead they'd sit still sucking and blowing using the boilie as a tool to dislodge the hook.

To be honest I didn't really believe him and wrote it off as bollocks. This was until I had a very strange occurrence up Wirgol on a session not too long after the conversion. I can see it as clear as crystal in my mind. There I was sitting behind my motionless 'mixed matched' rods with my 45p orange bobbins clipped onto my lines. It was a really bright day, I was using a Richworths boilie called 'Meaty Mix' I can literally smell it as I type these words. I hadn't received one bleep which was hard to believe considering the pond was about an acre in size.

Towards mid afternoon I decided to reel in for a recast, as I picked up my right hand rod I was instantly met with a heavy weight. Whatever was on the end bolted off at pace, my old Sundridge rod was bent over double, not because it was a 'through action', because it was a 'shit action'. Anyway .... after a violent tussle I slipped my first ever fully scaled mirror over the net, weighing in at an awesome 13IB. At the time that was the biggest mirror I'd ever caught, the capture stayed in my mind for two reasons, firstly the size of the fish, secondly the fact that the carp had clearly picked the bait up and hadn't bolted. After what Graham told me I had no doubt in my mind that the fish was trying to ditch the hook, god knows how long it had actually been sitting there trying to do it. This was an experience and conversation that has stayed with me ever since, not all carp are the same but I think some are a lot smarter than what we give them credit for.

Large Rig Ring For More Free Movement

This is when the 5.3mm rig ring came into my mind, I wanted something that would stop the carp being able to use the hook bait to ditch the hook. I've found nearly 9 times out of 10, when you're using a large rig ring that can slide right up the shank and over the silicone kicker. The hair and boilie seem to tangle/lasso around the hook link, thus stopping the carp from being able to get the boilie back in its mouth. The bait basically tangles and stays well out the way. 'The white arrows on the image above shows the direction the bait has a tendency to travel when ejected'. I find this size ring combined with a long hair gives me really good hook holds. This is not in my imagination, I've genuinely seen a massive difference in the quality of the hook holds and I haven't lost a fish due to the hook coming out. Combined with a long hair, I have 100% confidence in this setup.

Back To The Session   

Bait of choice as mentioned before was the faithful 'Tiger-Fish', combined with that I was going to be fishing semi-fixed inlines with bottom baits. Attached to the hook on the cast would be a small mesh bag of crushed boilies, the hook bait would be topped off with an imitation orange maggot. The bait is of a dark tinge so adding a fleck of color might just help to entice a carp into picking it up. To finish off, my hook-links were made up of 'Nash Trigga-link' in 25IB combined with 'Kryston Silkworm' in 25IB. Many will know from past blogs that I love using the 'Trigga-link', I genuinely think it confuses the carp, you can tell by the bites you tend to get on it. You can literally see the confusion in the movement of the bobbin, not only that, if you're fishing for 'cute' fish that use the weight of the lead to try and ditch the hook. I think the 'spring' like quality of the 'Trigga-link' renders the whole 'head shake escape' useless. So now with both rods out I got my brolly up and set my swim out nice and tidy. Looking at the skies above I was definitely in for some rain, it was time to get the kettle on, sit back and hope that the fish that were in the area earlier weren't too far away.

Nice & Secluded In The 'Bottle Neck'

Why do I call this swim the bottleneck?. It's pretty simple really, this is the one part of the water that narrows. In my head Burrows is a lake of three sections, up the far end you have the cages. Then you have the main body of water which narrows through the bottleneck, opening back up at the 'bowl' end where the muddy double swim is located. You'd think that carp would be passing through the bottleneck all the time but, as mentioned before, the only bite I've ever had out the swim has been on a 7ft zig. Maybe they're moving through on a regular basis but they're mid-water, that would explain the zig bite. Also, lets not forget that I only fish days, maybe I would've had more of a result doing nights and longer stints. But as documented many times before, I can't stand camping, my night fishing days are very much behind me. I personally think that you put way more effort into what you're doing when you subtract night fishing out of the equation. I think it takes far more dedication focusing on just days, especially if you're going to be fishing consecutive sessions. I know there can be downsides to 'days only' but on each lake I fish I have to try to find a way to get a result in the time I have available to me.

Fish Feeding

Now with the steam from the kettle spluttering out the spout and the soft 'pitter patter' of the rain lightly hitting my umbrella, I sat quietly gazing out over the water. All the trees and branches were in full bloom, it felt like I was sitting in a strange 'hollow' within a lost woodland. The trees tower overhead and a small gap within the foliage gives you a partially obscured view of the water. As I sat staring out over my swim I started to see some activity, small streams of bubbles started to appear. At first I thought it might've been the mallards, but they were calm and hadn't made any commotion. I got my scope out and took a closer look, there was no doubt in my mind that carp had moved in and were very clearly kicking the bottom up. Now with my eyes fixed on the skin of the water, bubbles were hitting the surface in multiple spots, all the minor explosions were reminiscent of smoke signals. Coinciding with this, my right buzzer was signalling some movement, I sat transfixed, my heart was pounding in my chest, it was resonating in my head, boom .. boom .. boom ... booooom .... sccrreeeaammmm !!!!!. Before I could clock what was happening my right rod was away.

As the fish bolted off, multiple explosions could be seen, it was clear to me that the carp that had been feeding there in the early morning had come back. I lent into the fish, minor euphoria gripped my whole body, from all the years of fishing Burrows this was the first bite I'd had from this swim off the bottom. The fish bolted hard to the right, it was clearly heading for the sunken posts that 
ran up the the right side edge of the swim. You could just see the top of one poking out the water, this carp was firing on all cylinders to try and reach it. I had to put some serious pressure on to stop it, amid the battle I lowered my left rod off of the buzzer and sunk the tip so the line was well out the way. I continued to try and pacify the fish I had on, I'd managed to get it clear of the posts and I now had it 'comfortably' out in the open water in front of me. I started to relax a little, glancing down at my left rod still half sunken in the water, I saw the butt section jolt sharply to the left. Checking where both the fish and my line were, neither were anywhere near the rod. I had an awful feeling that I'd had a second take and I didn't have a second set of arms to land it.

Fish Number 1

I applied a little more pressure managing to get the first bite in the net, once it was safe in the mesh, I rushed to pick up my left rod and wound in the slack like a madman. I kept on winding until the line went tight, turning the reel and lifting the rod up high. It instantly pulled down to my right, I could feel a carp on the end but it had clearly bolted for the posts and succeeded in snagging itself around one of them. I couldn't believe it, I'd had a double take from a swim I couldn't buy a bite from in years. You could just about see the top of the post vibrating and pulsating as the fish was trying to flee. I kept the pressure on for a good few minutes, after which, I couldn't feel the carp anymore, looking at the post, it appeared motionless. I tighten right up, cupped the spool and walked back slowly, stopping for a few minutes as I went. The line was bow tight, pinging like a guitar string, suddenly everything gave way. I'd managed to bend the hook out and get all my terminal tackle back. I was obviously blown away with the fish waiting for me in the net. However having a second take and not being able to do anything about it left a sour taste in my mouth.

A 'Bottle-Neck' Beauty

Lifting the net slightly so the fish came into view, I was met with a beautiful chestnut colored mirror, this carp really was an amazing creature. A couple of photos were taken and I slipped her home, I had a feeling that all the commotion probably spooked whatever carp might have been in and around the area. However I wanted to witness the day 'play-out', this part of the water was new to me and I find simply sitting, watching and thinking about the swim can nurture new ideas for future sessions. Nothing else occurred but that didn't bother me, due to the result, I'd made up my mind that over the next couple of weeks I'd focus solely on this swim. I still didn't think it was an area that the carp fed in a great deal. I was going to approach it 'heavy-highhandedly, I'd 'fill it in', I didn't think a mouthful was going to cut it. If carp were passing through, which I believe they were, then enough bait had to be out there to attract them down. Before leaving I spread a good kilo and a half all around the swim with the plan to come back later in the week and give it another go. This little mission I'd set for myself was going to be a mini marathon, not a sprint.           

Cants Mere 'Goodbye For Now'

A month or so had past since my last successful session up on Cants, I'd managed to squeeze in another 4 trips, unfortunately each ended up in a blank. Now with the warmer weather taking hold conditions were changing and more anglers where appearing on the water. I sensed that the word was starting to get out regarding the fish the mere now contained. As usual, when the crowds start to come I find myself wanting to vacate to another venue that isn't seeing so much pressure. Nowadays due to the current popularity of carp fishing I'm finding it harder to track down waters that aren't overcrowded and over-fished, even harder still is finding a venue where the fish aren't beaten up with mouth damage. I'm seriously starting to consider trying to find a nice quiet syndicate, a place where I don't continually feel like I'm trying to escape the ever growing carp angling circus. I'm wondering if a place like that even exists anymore and if they do they usually have huge waiting lists. My early sessions seemed like distant memories, there I was on my own surrounded by 'still life' with only the mallards as company. Now I was finding myself hemmed in-between other anglers lines and dodging spods, I really felt like this was hindering my chances so I decided I'd give the water one last shot and then evacuate quietly.

Me & Eric Waiting For A Bite That Never Came

On the day of my session I was in no rush to get to the water, previous bites had a habit of coming later in the day so I decided to have a well deserved lie in, get some breakfast down me, brew a few cups of dangerously strong coffee, peruse over my tackle and then ease myself into the journey up to the water. As I opened my front door to the world, I instantly felt invigorated as the sun and clear blue sky hung overhead. I didn't want to speak too soon but I felt pretty happy to be existing, I love fishing on days like this. Leaving London and heading off up into the Essex countryside is a necessary escape, I never tire at the thought of casting my lines. I did have a passing thought that Cants might be busy, I was just going to take it easy, get to the water and work with what I had available to me. After a relatively pain free journey, I stopped off at Boreham services to grab a few essentials and onward to the water, I arrived at around 12:30am. There were a few cars in the car park but it appeared most were fishing Blunts.

Before unloading I decided to go and have a quiet walk around both Blunts and Cants, the weather was so warm and the day so bright, it was impossible to feel any sense of urgency. Blunts was fairly busy but it looked lovely, there was a light ripple on the water with some very inviting looking scum lines molding themselves around the margins. On closer inspection I spotted a few dark shadows cruising just under the surface. The carp appeared to be in small groups causally milling around, I sensed they were aware of my presence but they didn't seem to care. Walking up along the path and around to the back channel, I counted at least 15 fish cruising in the upper layers, some appeared to be mouthing at the tiny objects that were resting on the waters skin. It was a pleasure to watch and, strangely enough, I had no desire to try and catch these fish. Watching carp is just as enjoyable as trying to catch them. After observing Blunts I made my way down to Cants, all the angling pressure seemed to be up the far end. Looking at where other anglers lines were stretching, it seemed most the water was sewn up, not only that but it looked completely dead, there were no signs of carp anywhere.

Secrets Revealed

I headed back up towards the car park keeping a close eye on things as I went. It became apparent very quickly that the bulk of the carp were down the front end. Loads of fish were quietly cruising around, I had no doubt they were avoiding the lines, I fully believe that carp know exactly what an anglers presence sounds like. They were clearly avoiding the activity opting for the quieter end of the water. Most were congregating in the open in front of swim 8, I decided that this is where I was going to fish. I'd had most of my bites from this swim so it made perfect sense to give it another go. Loading the barrow up I quickly realized that my auxiliary bag of dog biscuits that I usually keep in the back of my van wasn't there. Not only that but I had no surface tackle whatsoever, this was a real bummer. It looked like I was going to have to wait for the fish to go down - 'note to self, always bring surface baits and tackle'. This was so frustrating but in the same breath I needn't rush in getting my swim set up.

Pineapple CSL & Pellet

 

All of my previous sessions involved a lot of bait, today I wasn't going to adopt the same approach. I was working on the basis that a lot more bait was now going in the water so the fish might not be so inclined to hoover up a load of boilie. Tiger-Fish had been my bait of choice and I'd done well on it but I decided I was going to revert back to Pineapple CSL. This was the bait that produced the big hit of fish I had on my first ever session, today I was going to keep the baiting to a minimum, I wasn't going to be putting any boilie out as loose feed, I would be fishing single pop ups and feed a single small spomb of pellet and ground-bait over the top. There was no point in setting the swim up for a big hit, it was nearing 1:30pm so I didn't have a great deal of time, not only that, the vast majority of the lakes stock were clearly up in the surface layers. Those that have read my past session blogs will know that, from this swim, I've had all my fish from the bars that run down both sides of the island. Today I was going to try a different spot, I see no sense in coming to a water to fish the same swim in the same way all the time. To expand your understanding you have to be prepared to try new things.  

Minimal Bait

I've always been interested in the island but I've never bothered fishing it, I just feel it's too obvious, however, fishing towards the bottom of the slope that runs down from the island could be an idea that's easily overlooked. I attached a 3.5oz lead to my marker rod and clipped up as close to the island as I could get. I was literally kissing the branches on the cast. I got a nice clean "DONK" close in and as I proceeded to carefully drag the lead towards me I could feel I was pulling over hard gravel. As it started to 'scoot' down the slope I could feel that I was on silty/clay, it slid so smoothly producing a defined line of tiny little bubbles that released and broke the surface. As I hit, what I believed to be the bottom of the slope, the rod started to lockup, I had a hunch that there could be slightly larger rocks and stones sitting directly at the bottom of the drop off. This made sense to me, through the years I'm sure various rocks and larger 'projectiles' had slowly made their way down the shelf. I retrieved the lead and made a second cast to confirm what I'd initially felt, I clipped up as soon as the rod started to lock up - that's the spot.

View From The Swim

I felt happy with my chosen area so I got to work on setting my rods up. I came prepared having pre-tied a few pop up rigs using tigga-link, these would be fished 'semi-fixed' on 3.5oz leads. I was going to keep both hook baits relatively close together, looking at how all the carp on the surface were swimming around in small groups, I saw no reason why they wouldn't do the same when/if they make their way down to feed. I had a feeling that fishing both baits a short distance apart could produce two quick takes. Both rods went out perfectly, as usual I felt a minor feeling of "euphoria" as the clips were hit on each cast. Because I was using rods that were soft in the tip the casts were cushioned perfectly, I never get any 'bounce back', they absorb everything. Once the bobbins were set I clipped the spomb up, my mix consisted of 5mm multi-mix pellets, halibut marine ground bait and a touch of halibut oil to bind it all together. The spomb was loaded, and with a subtle little flick of my spod rod it flew gracefully through the air, delivering my 'tempting mouthful' accurately over both rods. All I could do now was wait for the fish to disappear from the upper layers and make their way down to the depths, at the moment it didn't look like that was going to happen in a hurry.

Trigga-Link Pop Up Rig

 

There was no guarantee that the fish in front of me would be up for taking a surface bait, but that didn't pacify the frustration of not being able to fish for them, I was annoyed at myself for not coming prepared. I took a seat, the sun was beating down on my back, I was in a strange sort of hypnosis observing the carps activities. I tried to spot a pattern in their movements but they just appeared random, all I could do was watch helplessly whilst these long dark shadows basked in the bright afternoon sun literally meters away from me. The kettle came out and the coffee was concocted, the caffeine hit the spot. The afternoon started to pass me by, come 3:30pm the atmosphere started to change, sporadic cloud came in over head periodically masking the suns rays. A cool weather front clearly started to move in, I literally felt the air pass through me. A change was afoot and with it came a sudden chop on the water, looking far into the distance the clouds looked dubious. I set my brolly up, I had a feeling rain was on the way and it looked like it was going to be violent.

And The Rain Came

Within the space of 15 minutes the cloud had covered the sky and the rain started to fall like lead bullets. I couldn't quite believe it was happening, the day had literally turned into the complete opposite of what it started off as in the morning. The wind really picked up, I sat tucked under my 'fibre-shield' hanging on for dear life. Looking out over the surface of the water it became clear very quickly that the carp were dispersing, this break in the weather might just end up being the event that pushes the fish back down to the bottom. As quickly as the rain came it had gone, the air felt fresh, the world appeared silent, all I could hear was the million and one raindrops falling off all the trees and branches around me. Looking out over the water, the surface was deserted, I couldn't spot any carp anywhere. The 'wait' had now officially begun, I genuinely felt like anything could happen from this point onward. 

The afternoon came and went in no time, it remained cool and overcast, with the sun now lower in the sky it felt like bite time was fast approaching. I was watching the water like a hawk, my right rod gave off a few minor bleeps before roaring off at speed. All the the bites from Cants explode from out of nowhere, I picked the rod up and gently lent back, the rod arched around and the clutch started to 'whirl'. Adrenaline was firing through my veins at an alarming rate, the fish was moving at a serious pace, I held on tight letting it tire itself out. It clearly wasn't going to give up easily, very slowly it began to lose its steam, I tightened the clutch up slightly and let the rod do the rest of the work. It was slowly coming towards me, when it was under the rod tip it lunged tight to my left making a desperate attempt to lose me in the snags. Side strain saw it clear and as it came up, signalling defeat, I slipped a lovely dark bronze colored common over the net. It was one of the slightly smaller residence but you wouldn't of thought that from the fight.

The Fighter

This was a lovely carp that had a subtle bronze tinge on its belly and a nice dark back, a few shots were taken and I gently lowered her home. I checked the hook, it was still nice and sharp, I then proceeded to carefully thread another Pineapple CSL pop up on to the hair, remolded and readjusted the tungsten putty and went to clip back up. This process was abruptly interrupted by my other rod firing away, it caught me by surprise, it appeared my "quick two bite" theory wasn't so crazy after all. The tip of the rod was bent right round and the clutch was melting, I knew that this was a better fish than the one I'd just returned home. I rushed to the rod, lent back and .... "BOOM" ..... the connection I'd made was instant, the sheer power had to be felt to be believed. With my 'players rod' bent double I held tight, vision of hanging on a cable behind a speedboat shot into my mind. 

This fish powered fast to the left and just carried on going, it was heading towards the sunken branches right down in the left hand corner. I started to feel minor panic, I held the rod out over the water as far as I could stretch and sunk it down low. I wanted to keep the line well out the way of any 'rogue' branches, I cupped the spool to try to slow the fishes momentum down. It was working, I decided to apply as much resistance as I thought I could get away with. It was a tense moment, I literally held my breath and steadily increased the pressure, the rod was still bent double. The fish started inching towards me .. result! .. I managed to turn it in my direction. All I had to do now was keep the pressure on and guide her towards the net, I lowered the mesh into the water, the carp was close, inching towards me. Now under the tip it surfaced onto its side ... game over, the mesh engulfed a beautiful looking common. I left it resting in the net to recover, I also needed to recover - what a fish!

A Quick Bite 'Number Two'

As expected, this fish blew me away, it was perfect looking, its scales were the colors of chestnut and it had some serious length to it. Once again Cants had delivered another two awesome fish for me, it started off looking like it wasn't going to work out but with the sudden change in the conditions it slowly all fell into place. It felt great to have a few after my recent blanks, having said that, I don't mind blanking, if I caught all the time I'd get bored. When sessions don't work out it just makes me more determined to get a result, not only that but it can force you to think about your approach. Take today for instance, fishing at the bottom of the slope of the island produced the goods, I might not of tried that if I'd caught on every session. I didn't see the point in casting back out, time was getting on and I had to be up early the next morning. I was going to bid farewell to Cants for the time being, I'd had some nice fish, little did I know it would be two years before I returned. 

Eric Enjoyed His Day Out

      

Cants Mere 'Finding Your Frequency'

There is no death of matter, for throughout the infinite universe, all has to move, to vibrate, that is, to live.

~ Nikola Tesla

A few days ago I decided to pay a visit to a water that I hadn't fished for quite sometime. The temperatures were way up in the low 30's, I knew it was going to be a slow day. However, I managed to get an early bite which resulted in a lovely mirror just shy of 18IB. Nothing else came along but I can honestly say that it was one of the most enjoyable and profound days I'd spent out on the water for quite some time. Looking back through the years and the hundreds, if not thousands of sessions I've been on. There's always a handful that seem to be far more memorable than others, strangely, these aren't always the ones where I catch a fish. I've spoken before about being "in sync"  or "aligning" yourself  with the waters, this isn't something you can't teach someone or really even explain, periodically it just happens. I personally think it has a lot to do with how you translate the world around you. Simply put, it's those moments in time when every single aspect, both inside and outside of your environment, appears completely perfect. I'm not strictly talking about just fishing, it can be at any time and in any location. Being one to regularly tie myself in the knots of my thoughts, I wanted to try to suss out why and when these moments of perfect harmony happen. I believe it has a lot to do with vibration, frequency and resonance, that might sound rather ridiculous but I'll try to explain it the best I can. 

Constant Motion

Every single solitary thing in existence is vibrating at varying levels, and as still as everything may seem, nothing is truly resting. This also includes us as humans, I believe that, just like our DNA which is unique to us, we also have a unique frequency that we operate at. Depending on both your health and some external factors, these frequencies can fluctuate from time to time. When this happens I think that we're much more susceptible to illness, both mental and physical, we all have moments where we just don't feel in tune with ourselves. Lets take a look at color, each individual color vibrates differently to the next. Red has the lowest frequency whilst violet has the highest, why do we all have favorite colors?. Is this because our own personal resonance is very similar to that of the color we are attracted to?. Why do we get on well with certain people, and not so well with others?. Maybe the people we connect to straight away have a very similar vibratory rate to our own. The people we tend to dislike or clash with might be existing at a resonance that may well clash with our own, thus creating a 'discord' in the way we relate to each other. 

 

Sonically discords can be beautiful things, a discord in the right place can make a song sound fantastic. It can change the whole feel of a tune especially when it's followed by more straightforward 'standard' chord changes. However discords you can't necessarily see, in a spiritual sense, can be very damaging, maybe the origins of mental illness and other 'invisible' ailments are simply a discord/dis-ease within our own unique 'vibratory' rate or system. A perfect example of a discord or 'frequency clash' that we can all witness is the opera singer with a glass. Trained opera singers can sing a note so high with so much power that the frequency they reach clashes with that of the glass resulting in it to crack. That's a perfect example of how damaging certain vibrations that are not compatible with one another can be. However, taking the term 'opposites attract' into account, every so often two people or frequencies with opposing resonance can connect in some strange disjointed way resulting in the perfect fit. I can equate this to a standard chord progression in a song where you overdub and mix the corresponding discords in. In theory this shouldn't really work but 'sonically' it sounds and feels great.

When you look at music and musical instruments as a whole, it's all built up on resonance, vibrations and frequency. Music is, and will always be a universal language, it connects people all over the world. It bypasses language, reaches around the globe a million and one times - why is this?. Because it makes people feel something deep inside, something that they can't explain. This makes me realize that there are moments in life where it's far more important how something makes you feel as oppose to what it makes you think. Next time you listen to a certain song that makes your hairs stand up, focus on that feeling, there's a reason why that's happening, it's all got to do with a connection being made that doesn't need to be understood. One example I'd like to use is the song 'Comfortably Numb' by Pink Floyd, here's a tune that has connected, and continues to connect with millions of people everywhere. Not only that but it spans across generations and will continue to do so, now in 2018 it's still one of the most played songs on both the radio and streaming services. When it was written, you can almost guarantee that the band would've had absolutely no idea just how far that song was going to fly. They hit on something at a random moment in time where the stars aligned and something magic happened. Music is simply a variety of vibrations and frequencies that we can actively hear and feel, it must work the other way around, there must be frequencies and vibrations that have an equal effect that we can't actively hear or feel.

So what has all of this got to do with carp fishing? When I'm on the bank, profound things can happen, not only is there the constant possibility of landing a potential monster, you've got the dawn, the sunset and many possible 'poignant' moments that come in so many different forms. But for me, the most important thing of all is the connection, the 'aligning' of oneself to the environment and really feeling it. I believe this happens when your own personal resonance connects perfectly with the world around you. As mentioned earlier, this doesn't happen all the time, it's on the odd occasion and I put this down to the fact that, on the occasions when the frequencies in all the living things fluctuate and become closer to yours, you connect to them in a way you've never felt before. Your connection to the environment around you isn't something you achieve by thinking about it, just like music, it's something that you feel first and then from that feeling your thoughts will follow. Next time you're out on the bank and you hit a peak moment of complete peace and 'oneness' hold onto that moment, something profound is happening. 

So moving onto the session, this blog is going to account for another short trip up to Cant's mere. Due to work I was having to make the most of the time I had available, taking into consideration that on my last two visits, all bites had a habit of coming later on in the day. I didn't feel I was missing out on a great deal not turning up at the crack of dawn. After a quick job in the morning that saw me wrestling my way through the city streets of London. It was around 11:45am when I attempted to make my escape, as expected, it felt like whole world was doing it's best to stop me reaching the water. There was grid lock, road closures, road works, pretty much every obstacle imaginable. I sat tight, gritted my teeth and painfully limped towards the outer reaches of the city. Eventually the signs for the M25 came into view, I was getting closer, it was just a matter of propelling myself onward and up onto the A12. Once on the motorway the knot in stomach started to loosen, the concrete surroundings started to exchange themselves for lush green fields and meadows. I was starting to feel somewhat human again, just.

From The Capital To Countryside

For people out there that don't understand the slightly 'unhinged' mind of a carp angler, this may come across as an awful lot of effort to go through just to catch as fish. They may well be right but I don't have any waters local to me and I'll travel anywhere if I know the conditions are right and there's a chance of a bite.  Today the weather was fresh, nicely overcast with the occasional spot of drizzle, it screamed 'carp' so I had to go and get my fix, whatever obstacles stood in my way, denying myself the chance to cast a line just wasn't an option. By the time I arrived at the water it was early afternoon, I planned to fish until 7pm. I got all my tackle together quickly and made my way around to peg 8. I walked a lap of the lake just to see if I could see any obvious signs of fish. It all appeared quiet, due to the time constraint I decided I'd fish peg 8 again and approach it in the exact same way I had over the previous sessions, at this point "if it ain't broke, then there's no point in trying to fix it".

A few casts with a bare lead on braided line saw me locate both the bars that run from both points of the island. The right hand spot was still nice and clear, the left spot locked up slightly on the retrieve, that told me the weed was still there. If anything it actually felt like it had thickened up a little more since my last visit. I didn't want to fish a pop up so instead of messing around trying to find a slightly clearer patch I though I'd make own. I got my trusty 5oz Fox 'Grappling' lead out and gave it a few casts thinning out a nice little area to place my bait. The lead brought back some hefty clumps of weed, it was fresh and smelt good, no wonder I was getting a lot of bites from that specific spot. I had a very strong feeling, that if I was going to get a bite today it would be from the rig fished within the weed. 

Fox Grappling Lead 5oz

Bait wise, I was sticking with the Tiger-Fish, this has been producing the 'goods' for me lately so it was a 'no-brainer', to add something a little different. Both baits would be topped off with a single white 6mm 'Coconut Cream' pop up. This would add a nice little fleck visually, I like the idea of topping off slightly darker baits with a little bit of color. My rigs we're going to be the usual semi-fixed inlines, this session I'd upped the lead to 3.5oz. Both hook links were combi rigs using the 'Trigga-Link' in 30IB and Sufix 'Magician' in 25IB. These two specific materials blend really well together, I'm finding myself using more of the Sufix range since it all went a bit strange with Kryston. Once my old Kryston stock has been used I think I'll be using Sufix exclusively. I've been more than impressed with what they've got on offer, I'll be writing about some of the other materials they produce in future blogs. As most know, none of my rigs and presentations are complicated, however I find myself getting rather anal in regards to the end tackle that I'm prepared to use.

6mm Pop Ups

I don't want to be using something that isn't tried and tested, I'm not sure if the 'newly packaged' Kryston range is the same as the original. The original range was outstanding and it didn't need changing, it had years of reliability behind it. To be honest I'm becoming more and more disillusioned with what's coming out on the market for carp anglers, prices seem to be going up and quality is definitely going down. We're pummeled with 'gimmicks', 'fashions' and 'buzz items' that don't usually stand up to the job they're supposedly designed for, in my mind a lot of it is just cheaply made shit. That's why I've been finding myself looking at some of the 'lesser known' brands, it's these guys that have something to prove. Unlike the mainstream brands that appear to be resting on their laurels.

The Perfect Combination

  Separation

Both rods were clipped up and ready to deploy, I flicked the left one out first, the rig sailed through the air, kissed the clip and disappeared into the void. I waited, a few seconds later I received the 'DONK' I was looking for. The same procedure was repeated with the right rod, the rig sailed, kissed the clip, disappeared and delivered another perfect 'DONK'. Back leads were slid down both lines, I tightened up, hung the bobbins and proceeded to position myself for the inevitable wait. On all my previous sessions I'd got a little 'trigga-happy' with the throwing stick. Today I was going to adopt some constraint and opted for two heaped handfuls over each rod, I didn't have a great deal of time so I wanted just enough bait out there to pull them in. To be honest when Cants starts to receive a lot of angling pressure, which due to the fish it contains, is inevitable, I can see myself cutting right down on the amount of bait that I use. This has already started to happen on a few of my other waters. So much goes in all the time and I think it's starting to have a reverse effect, I personally think it makes the fishing a lot harder than it needs to be. When the carp have so much bait to chose from and get through, it's logic that the fishing will slow right down. I'm finding that a mouthful in the right location is proving far more productive nowadays, than shoveling it in.

View From The Swim

The afternoon crept along, the skies above were changing fast from gloomy heavy clouds with drizzle, separated by the occasional sunbeam piercing down on the surface of the water. It was one of those days where everything felt fresh and clean, it's hard to believe that only a few hours ago I was clawing my way through the rather unforgiving streets of London, this was literally a world away and it's a world that I feel very thankful for. It's impossible to feel grounded living in the city, everything around you creates friction, there's endless souls clashing into one another. Every where you turn people are racing around within an inch of their life chasing after 'the wage', 'the promotion', that one leg up that might just get them out the rut of it all, many though are working all the hours under the sun and still don't have another money to forge some kind of meaningful existence. When I witness this going on around me, very little of it makes sense and I find myself questioning exactly why we are put here. I'm positive it certainly isn't to work yourself into an early grave. Just as I started to sink into an abyss of contemplation, my right rod was away. 

The bite alarm was screaming, the clutch, equally as loud, the rod was bending round so tight, I could literally hear it moaning, all the bites from Cants go the same way, from nothing to chaos in three seconds flat. As I lifted the rod up I had no other choice than to just let the fish take line. It whizzed off to the left kiting tight towards the nearside margin, it was gunning for all the marginal snags. I sunk the rod to keep the line low and started to apply as much pressure as I thought I could get away with. I was slowly gaining a bit of ground but it wasn't really having any of it. Bolting out to the open water, it was darting all over the place, every time I thought I was starting to win, it would tear off, striping line as it went. Closer it came, I lowered the net into 'scooping' position and teased the carp towards me. This was a bad move, the second it spotted it, it fired off back out into the open. I was starting to get a little impatience but, from experience, the worst thing you can do is try to rush the situation. I held on, applied some more steady pressure and eventually eased a bloody lovely looking mirror over my net.

My First Cants Mirror

I was totally blown away with this fish, its lovely chocolate color complimented its majestic scale pattern perfectly, not only that, it put up one hell of a fight, one of the hardest I'd experienced from any previous Cants fish. A few pictures were taken, a 'thank you' was exchanged, and back she went. It was a really good call to clear a bit of the weed away to create a clearer spot to put my rig. I clipped up and pinged the bait back out, followed by another couple of handfuls of freebies. An hour or so past and with that came multiple shows very close to both my rods. It was clear that a few fish had made their way down, I sat quietly watching, poised on the edge of my seat. These situations can be both magical and tense all at the same time, you can't make those fish take your bait. You can only hope you've done enough right to help produce the desired end result. As the minutes continued to tick by the fish action increased, the wind picked up and the skies started to darken. Two things were going to happen, I was going to get another bite and leave victorious, or this magic moment would pass and I was going to get a drenching of a life time. Peering behind me, the clouds creeping ever closer in the distance were looking rather threatening.

Possible Armageddon

As I was sitting there visualizing the possibility of a Tsunami washing me down the proverbial drain, my left rod fired away .. result!. I was on it like lightening and another immense battle commenced, this fish pretty much mimicked the one that came before. The initial take was nuts, you couldn't really do anything, then it shot tight down to the left towards the snags. Just like before, I lowered the rod down into the water and applied side strain, holding my breath as I went. This fish was so close to getting under the branches, if I allowed that to happen I may as well kiss it goodbye. It was so tense, I felt a bit of grating on my line, I prayed that everything would stay intact. Gently it was coming closer, now out of the danger zone I lowered the net down and as the fish surfaced just out in front of me, I performed the penultimate 'scoop', in she went. The relief I felt was marginally indescribable, with the heavy weather moving ever closer I peaked down into the net to lay my eyes on the prize. It was an immaculate common carp, a fair sized one at that.

Minutes Before The Downpour

This carp was long, lean and as clean as you could get, a few pictures were taken and she was gently slipped back home. It was now my turn to slip back home, I had a sense that if I wasn't quick I'd be sailing. I got all my gear together and packed away in a very undignified fashion. I was half way between the lake and the van when the sky fractured and the heavens started dumping all its unwanted sins on my head. I slipped and slid back to the car park, threw everything in the back of the wagon and leapt into the driving seat. The rain drops were like bullets on the windscreen, I got another good soaking opening and closing the gate. The drive back to London was pretty treacherous, I had the fan going full blast to keep my windscreen clear, I was literally surfing along the surface of the A12. It had been a busy day, there I was in the teeth of the city, I escaped deep into the country, caught two pristine pieces of the wild and I'd literally sailed home. If anyone ever tells you that fishing is boring ....... don't listen to them.

Burrows 'Echoes From The Valley' Part 9

As I sit writing this it's hard to believe that we've only got a few months of 2017 left to go. The older I get the faster life seems to accelerate, taking into consideration that I'm still writing up my Winter 2015 sessions. I've got a hell of a long way to go to get to where I am now. Writing about the distant past is a strange thing, especially when it comes to angling, I know that since 2015, my viewpoint and thoughts have changed drastically. I feel like I'm living two lives, the angler I was then and the angler I am now. Many people get in touch asking how I manage to remember my sessions in such detail. It's pretty simple really, I have a very tattered old notebook that I use to scribble in, parts of what I write are in great detail, others are sentences and bullet points that conjure up certain emotions, feeling and memories. If you add all the photos and images that I capture along the way, I end up having a crystal clear recollection of the time, the session and what I was both thinking and feeling.

On the day of my escape I was up at 6am, stumbling out the front door, the sun was yet to fully rise. I packed my tackle as fast as I could and got the hell out of the city. I had limited time before the 'gridlock' would do its best to keep me contained. Snaking through the roads of SE7, motionless bodies stood like statues at bus stops, all waiting for the large, red double-decker hearses to arrive and take them to their resting place. The lights of the pedestrian crossings where flickering ominously, the liquid color of red, amber and green looked somewhat psychedelic in the half-light. Closer and closer I got to the motorway, my own personal 'yellow-brick road' that would see me out of this god forsaken place. London is the city I hate to love, many a time I've detested its unforgivingness. However I realize I'd be lost without it, the stark difference between its brutality and that of the peace I find by the water, is a 'polar opposite' that I need to have in my life.

Finally on 'the road to oz', it certainly wasn't the tin man or Dorothy that I had on my mind. It was the carp, if I could get a few more fish under my belt, then I'd happily tap my green ruby 'Skeetex' boots together, and get myself back to Kansas/London. I was cruising at a steady speed, with the sun now rising, the sky was lighting up with the embers of a new day. I was at the complex in no time, with the barrow now loaded I walked through the morning mist making my way round to my own 'resting place'. The morning dew on both the grass and branches looked like tears yet to weep. Arriving at my swim, I took a moment to take it all in, it's as if the world had 'flatlined' and the only pulse to be heard was mine. There's nothing quite like an 'anglers dawn', it's something very few witness and experience. Being up at sunrise and on the water early evokes a strange sense of isolation, this is a feeling I fully embrace. 

I got on top of everything fast, my swim was built, the rods were clipped up, now I just had to get some bait in. Because of the success from last time I was going to stick with extending my baited area a little further. I was now going to be using 4 large handfuls of squashed boilies instead of two. I wanted a thin layer of bait to cover at least 4 rod lengths either side of where I was planning to put my hook baits. It was commonsense that spreading the freebies further afield was going to up my chances. The priority was to make sure it was spread lightly and evenly, I didn't want to risk the possibility of over feeding. I made the long walk round to deposit all free offerings, along the sodden pathways and up through the cages I walked. The sun was still low, I had a sense that the lake was beginning to open its eyes. I increased my pace, I'd love to get a morning bite, having not been down this early before. I was intrigued to see if any fish were going to visit the spot earlier in the day.

Subtle Color

Peering through the overgrown bushes that shielded my secret spot, I stared intently into the water, it looked ghostly. I very carefully, spread all my freebies along both the margins to the left and right of where I was planning to put my rigs. I watched as each bait 'plopped' through the waters skin and started to 'flutter' out of sight. I legged it back around to my swim and got both rods out quickly and accurately. For some reason, when the casts hit the clip, it felt far more satisfying than usual, with back-leads on and bobbins hung. I welcomed the wait, sparking the stove up, everything was silent, the only noise, that of my kettle, occasionally creaking as it began to contort and expand from the heat. The air was sharp, the world was clear, as the steam from the boiling water drew smoke signals on the 'canvas' that lay before me, I felt pretty dam rich, I was existing perfectly within the moment. The lake was rising from slumber and I was ready, watching, like an apex predator ready to strike.

The peace of the morning started to fracture with the sound of coots and mallards, there appeared to be some kind of dispute going on with both parties. My mind began to wander, I started to wonder what it would be like to have wings, I certainly wouldn't be hanging around on some freezing stretch of liquid. I'd take every opportunity I could to soar high up above the ground, determined to reach dizzy highs, to push further and fly faster. I'd be chained to no one, my home would be where ever I chose to rest my head. However, I couldn't help but think that if men were to really have wings, it would probably end up being a catastrophe. The skies would be forever occupied, they'd be collisions, people randomly falling back down to earth 'drunk', and, knowing the human race, it would be used for no good. Wars would be fought differently, they'd be no control or jurisdiction on who can go where and why. It would be chaos, it's bad enough already. 

Hitching A Ride On The 3 o'clock Wind

My thoughts were pulled down instantly from above the clouds when my left rod rocketed off at speed, the screaming alarm made me jump out of my skin. I lifted my Ballista up, 'as if I was raising the Olympic flame', battle commenced. The fish bolted so fast off to the left, at a speed that would of made 'Usain Bolt' look like a loser. I held on, connected to the wild, trying my best to pacify the possible beast I had covertly outsmarted. I was patient, only giving line when I had to, slowly I gained ground, a minor tussle occurred close in, I lowered the net, a cluster of scales got engulfed in the mesh .... first fish ... result!. Peering down and lifting the net up slightly, I was witness to an incredible looking mirror, the scales were lovely, complimenting its winter skin perfectly. A few snaps were taken, goodbyes were said and the rod went straight back out.

A Morning Visitor 

Taking into account that the fish came off my left rod, I decided that I'd wait before applying anymore bait. I knew my right rod was still primed and ready for a bite, if I was lucky enough to get a fish off of it, then I'd go and top the swim up. As mid morning came about the clouds broke and some very needed sunshine started beaming down. The slight warmth on my face was a nice relief, the landscape lite up in washed out pastille colors. A couple of hours past with no action, a few liners occurred but nothing came from them. A few more hours crept on by before my right rod flew into action. Connecting with the fish, I instantly knew it was a better one than the first. As expected, it bolted towards the post, side strain teased it away. Now out in the open water, it lumped around slowly, it wasn't taking much line but the slow plodding was constant. Now at short range, a fully armored common carp kissed the surface of the water. Once witnessed, poisonous adrenaline seeped from my stomach up through every orifice of my body.

There were a few tense moments when it came close in, a few early 'panic lunges' saw the fish fire off down the shallow margin to my right. It was a battle of wits, there were more than enough marginal obstructions for the carp to do a 'hoodini' on me. Eventually I manged to entice her into the waiting net mesh, I was both relived and ecstatic in equal measure. Staring down at my prize, I'd bagged myself a lovely common, it was long, lean and had a dark jet grey tinge on its back and shoulders. Holding it up with the suns sporadic rays firing off its scales was an awesome feeling. I'd manged two fish and I still had plenty of time left, if I could manage a few more then it would be a session to remember. Gently easing the fish into the water, I watched as it rejuvenated itself in the sanctuary of my sling. I gently placed both hands either side to steady her, I was waiting for 'the kick'. That message that every carp we catch gives us, that everything is ok, it's an acknowledgment that 'maybe' it has forgiven us, understanding that 'us anglers' are a breed that mean no harm. We just want to have a fleeting chance at witnessing them up close and in the flesh.

Fully Armored

I watched as she drifted away, I was on a roll so I wasted no time in getting round and topping the swim back up. It was obvious to me that carp were in and around the area today, I wasn't doing anything particularly different to my last sessions. It goes to show that if you're on or near fish, and they're feeding, you can catch them, sometimes it really is as simple as that. Back in my swim with both rods out, I readjusted a few things. Firstly I was now going to be fishing a super tight line on my right hand rod and I was going to lock it up. I'd still be using a back lead but I wanted to try to pacify the initial bite, giving me a few extra seconds to steer the fish away from the post. Secondly - and something I do all the time, is change the position of both my camera and cradle, when the sun goes in front of the camera 'so it's behind me when I take a picture' both me and the carp come out as shadows. It sounds bizarre but I always move or rotate the camera so the main light source is in front of me. - it doesn't get more anal than that !

Lunch time came and went, the clouds crawled back overhead, and the chill started to cut once more. My rods had remained static since my last fish, not one liner had occurred, maybe the fish had moved on?, or maybe they'd had their lunch and were going to have a bite to eat come dinner time. Either way, I was going to sit it out, the swim was primed and ready, the kettle was back on, I was now back to watching the water and trying not to let my imagination run away with me. I started thinking back to the start of this Winter stint, I'd stuck to the plan and hadn't deviated. As expected, it had started off relatively slow, but with perseverance, there was no doubt that the number of fish I was catching had increased. As mentioned before, sticking to the same plan and swim is fine for a while but I know I'd get bored if it was an approach I adopted on a regular basis.
    

I sat in a trance like state, my eyes would shift from watching the water to focusing firmly on both my rod tips and bobbins. The universe around was irrelevant, I was waiting for that 'magic moment' when the peace, solitude and silence is irradiated by the sound of a screaming alarm. It could happen at any moment, in my head I started counting down from 10 to 0. Wondering what number the run would come on, eventually it ended up going on 6, the left rod was away. After an initial run the fish came towards me fast, I was reeling in the slack like a madman. In true 'Burrows Carp' style, it woke up close in, I stood there letting my rod tip do the work, due to the rods I use, the tip action is second to none, watching and feeling the tip compressing and contorting is a rather profound experience. As the carp went up on its side I knew the show was over, I'd been rewarded with yet another lovely plump looking mirror. It was deep bodied with a long tail section, I had a feeling that it had all the trademarks of a potential future king.

A Potential Future King

A few snaps were taken and back she went, the rod went straight back out, just like before, the right rod was still primed for a bite so I held off on topping the swim back up. The afternoon was well and truly on its way now. The day had flown by, it's that strange 'time hypnosis' that only happens when carp fishing, there's never enough time. We wait on the moments, the minutes and the seconds for that next bite to occur, and before you know it, 12 hours have evaporated in a time frame that feels like 10 minutes. I was sitting there trying to suss out how I could slow time down, if only for an hour or two. It turned out that I didn't have to, the right hand rod  bleeped, fidgeted and then fired off, the tip was 'yanked' aggressively round to the right, due to it being locked up, my buzz bars were doing their best not to collapse under the strain. 

I lunged and lent into a ball of energy that was clearly careering towards the post. I held on tight, doing my very best to turn the fish out into the open water, reeling frantically I steered her clear. She continued to power off sharp to the right, the rush was immense, the chill that had implanted itself in my body was soon melted by the sheer adrenaline rush I was getting. The battle continued and when I eventually gained some ground, it was clear the fish wasn't prepared to give itself up easily. Now wallowing in open water, the powerful pulls from before dispersed, teasing her slowly my way, the white flag was waved as the fish retired herself up on to its side and cruised over the waiting net .... result!. I was met with the sight of a beautiful grey colored common carp, everything about it was perfect looking, I felt honored to of caught her, her slate grey appearance compliment the landscape perfectly. 

The Grey

This fish signaled the end of the session, and unexpectedly the end of my winter stint down on Burrows. It worked out that my work would take up most of my days up until springs arrival. It was now time to move on, my Chelmsford waters would open back up in the next few months, so my focus would be on them. Looking back through all of my winter sessions, I was really happy with the result. I'd stuck to my plan, persevered, and managed to catch some lovely looking fish. It had worked out well sticking to both the same swim and the same spot, it was a stark difference to how I had approached the water the previous Winter. I packed up slowly and by the time I loaded the barrow, the light was fading behind the 'dead wiry trees', everything was in hibernation. I knew that when I'd next pay Burrows a visit, everything would've woken, the banks would be breeding new life and the world both around and within the water would be very different. Pushing the barrow around the muddy path back up to the van, I gave the water one last salute and thanked it for keeping me company over the past few months.