TF Gear Force 8 Rapid Day Shelter Review

"As in all my reviews I'd like to start by stating that I'm in no way connected to Total fishing gear. This is an independent write up that I hope might help you out if you've been thinking about purchasing the Force 8 Rapid Day Shelter"

Many of you that read my blogs will be aware that I'm not a follower of fashion, simply put, I buy things that I like not what I'm told I should like. Nowadays I feel carp fishing is very much 'fashion led' and I get the feeling that many newcomers to the sport are more bothered about what they look like when they're out on the bank, as opposed to understanding and applying their minds to the art of angling as a whole. The longer I'm in this game, '29 years and counting' the more I've come to understand that all the 'extras' that come with carp fishing, the tackle, the bait, the rigs etc are nothing more than distractions. It's the mind of the angler that puts fish on the bank not what bivvy one should choose or big pit reel one might prefer. There's far too much snobbery when it comes to 'brands'. I'm finding some of the major companies are relying on past reputation, many now churning out overpriced tat. I find the less popular brands are the ones producing reliable and reasonably priced gear, this is because many of them still have something to prove.

Moving on to the review, my 'Korum fibre-shield' had finally given up the ghost after many years of reliable service. Korum had discontinued it so I started scanning the internet for day shelters. If I'm not remaining mobile during a session I nearly always like to use some form of shelter, rain or shine, being nestled underneath something adds to the escapism and sanctuary that angling provides for me. Even though I only do day sessions, once I've arrived at the water it always feels nice to setup camp for the day, get my swim tidy and house all relevant items under cover. When I started to think about what I actually wanted from a shelter there were four main points. It had to be lightweight, built well and simple to setup and take down. I stumbled upon the "TF Gear Force 8 Rapid Day Shelter" when I was fishing with my friend Danny. It was a warm bright day and the wind was nuts, Danny disappeared for a few moments and suddenly reappeared again with what looked to be a small lightweight piece of material. With a quick "check this out", he performed some 'hocus-pocus' and within moments we had a home over our heads. I was pretty much sold straight away and I'd made the decision that when I needed a new 'portable fishing home' I'd be looking closer at the force 8.

The Force 8 In Action 

Before I continue I'd like to point out that I'm under no illusion that TF Gear aren't exactly what you'd call a 'trendy/cool' company. I think I'd go as far in saying that they haven't exactly got a great reputation in regards to some of their product lines and I know many out their wouldn't be seen dead using any of their gear. But none of that bothers me in the slightest, I've got to say that I own their trail-blazer barrow, chair, stove and some of their luggage range and for build quality and performance it's without a doubt the best I've owned by a mile. Before I continue I'd like to add that this review is for the 'force 8 rapid' day shelter, this is an updated version of the original 'force 8' that they produced a good few years back. So first impressions, the shelter itself is £59.99 and you get a lot for your money. It's neatly housed within a 'tie-top' bag with a handy shoulder strap. The point I like about this is the fact that the bag is a lot larger than the actual shelter. This means that you don't have to be messing around after a session trying to pack it super tight, you literally roll it up and slide it home. 

Over Sized Carry Bag & Shoulder Strap

The shelter in its rolled up form takes up about as much room as a standard brolly but it's much lighter. Removing it from the bag, it's nicely clipped up tight with a supporting strap, when you get it out you'll notice a mechanism attached to one end, this is the top of the shelter. It's this mechanism that you're going to use to erect it, it's a tidy little design and once you get the hang of it, nothing could be simpler. In the picture below the white arrow is pointing to the mechanism, it's here where all the magic happens.

The Mechanism Situated At The Top Of The Shelter

"I have images below demonstrating what I'm about to describe in this paragraph". To set the shelter up you lift it off the ground 'mechanism first', making sure that all the legs/stems are laying down on the floor. Then you're going to pull the protruding bar downwards 'number 1 in the image below' and clip it onto the long black bar 'number 2 in the image below', bar number 2 creates the shelters peak. From reading up online, some people find this a little tricky, from my understanding, this is because they don't apply enough force to the 'number 1' bar. My advice to you is, don't hold back, nothing is going to break. Pull it down hard and clip it in - job done !.

Clip Bar 1 to Bar 2 - Use Force

   
Finished Position

Once the main bar has been clipped into place the shelter should've taken shape, the next thing to do is to push the central shaft 'letter A in the image below' into the central part of the mechanism 'letter B in the image below'. Upon doing this you'll hear a "CLICK", once this has been done slide the two small rods forward 'letter C in the image below', this locks everything into place and will ensure the central shaft doesn't come out.

Click Central Shaft Into Place

The above paragraphs make it sound like a drawn out process but the whole procedure literally takes a matter of seconds. The main thing is having the confidence to pull and clip the bars together. Once you've got this down the shelter pretty much puts itself up. Below is a time-lapse video of both the setup and pack down.

Setup & Pack Down

 

So now we've covered the art of setting it up lets get down to the nitty-gritty. First off, it's made with a very lightweight material, I've fished with it in heavy rain and sunshine and I can confirm that it dries really fast without holding any moisture. All of the stitching is heavy duty especially around the four main pegging points. In regards to the pegs, you do get a bag with the shelter but they're of a very low quality and I'd advise you to replace them. I don't quite understand why TFG would create such a handy product only to supply substandard accessories. You can buy good quality pegs from most tackle shops. Moving on to the shape, to some people it may not look 'carpy' enough to be seen sitting under. Firstly 'carpy' is a stupid word, secondly I actually really like the shape and from an aesthetic point of view it hasn't looked out of place anywhere that I've taken it. The extended peak is a nice touch, it makes the overall appearance quite streamline, not only that, it helps to keep the rain out. Due the the sharp angle on each side of the peak, the water doesn't have anywhere to gather. It simply glides off and splashes to the floor a foot or so away from the front of the shelter, it doesn't drip inward.

Solid Pegging Points

When I was researching the product one of the main gripes I kept coming across was how wobbly and bendy the shelter can be in blustery winds. Due to its shape and design it isn't going to be as stable as a brolly and I've been getting a bit of 'wobble', especially in 'heavy weather'. However this can be partially solved, This next point is important, it's all to do with how you peg it down. When pegging your four main points, make sure you're pulling the shelter tight. Along with these main pegging points you get secondary support cords, you have one on each side and two located on the back. To ensure the shelter holds ground well in strong winds it's vital that you use all of the pegging points available. When the pegging down has been done correctly it should be nice and stable, you will still get a little bit of movement if the wind is strong but that can't really be helped. One down side that, again I find strange, there isn't a primary pegging point located on the back panel, this doesn't make a great deal of sense to me.

Side Pegging Cord

 Back Pegging Cords, No Primary Pegging Point

Moving on to the overall size, there's a surprising amount of room once you're inside. From the outside it genuinely doesn't look like it takes up a particularly large foot print. I've managed to fit it in all of my chosen swims so far and some have been pretty tight. You have plenty of head room and even on a relatively high chair you don't feel cramped. Me and my mate have spent a good few sessions in it hiding from both the wind and the rain, it doesn't feel like there's a lack of room. I would say it's perfect if you're fishing on your own and you want to fit your barrow and other items of tackle underneath to keep it all dry and out of the rain. This is where I think a shelter like the force 8 weighs in slightly over a brolly. As much as I loved my fibre-sheild I always felt I was hunching down, even when sitting and, apart from my seat and maybe my large tackle bag, you really couldn't fit a great deal under it at all.

Force 8 Dimensions

A couple of nice little touches regarding the inside of the shelter, you've got a sewn in plastic ring in the center of the ceiling which you could hang a torch or small light from and you have two sewn in pockets on either side. I've found these useful to keep a catapult, phone, sounder box etc in. Another nice touch is the option to open the back panel, this can be used to improve airflow on hot days or come in handy if you're pole fishing and it's tipping it down outside.

Optional Air Vent

Focusing on the force 8's negative points, firstly as mentioned before, you're going to need to replace the pegs provided, they're really not great. In regards to the design, one aspect that bothers me is the fact that the side panels don't go all the way down to the floor. There's a small gap of a few inches, this is particularly annoying if you've got a cold wind because you tend to get a bit of a draft firing in underneath. From a design point of view I really don't understand why they didn't make sure it went nice and snug all the way to the ground. Not only does the gap prove a drafty annoyance but when it rains some of the water tends to run down the sides and come in underneath creating wet spots, again if the shelter went all the way to the floor this wouldn't happen. One other point, 'mentioned before', is the lack of a main pegging point on the back panel, you have two extra pegging cords but no main pegging point.

In regards to the overall stability of the force 8, if pegged down properly it is stable but it's not solid, I do find that I get a lot more 'wobble' and movement compared to my old brolly, but this is to be expected because of the shape and the height. It's hard to say at this stage how it will fair in proper gale force winds and rain. I personally think it's suited more to less brutal conditions, like spring showers and moderate winds. I can see myself using it as a shelter to get some shade on a hot day, also because it's so quick to setup and take down it would be perfect on a pit or a river if you're going to be roving around. One last thing that I personally thought would of made a great addition would've been a couple of velcro straps to be able to clip your rods into whilst re-baiting or changing rigs. That's something that my fibre-shield had and I thought they were a really nice touch. All in all none of these gripes are particularly huge, if anything it's just me being a little pedantic. But as in all of my reviews I like to give an honest and rounded opinion.

Onsite With The Force 8

So to sum up, despite the odd gripe I actually really like my force 8 shelter, it's super light and super easy to put up and take down. I just really like the idea of having a home from home that you can put up in seconds. As mentioned before, I love the 'escapism' part of my angling and being tucked under a shelter enhances that feeling for me. If you're thinking about the force 8 as an option, you're not exactly buying a super luxurious engineered bit of kit, it's a little 'rough & ready' and it has its weaknesses. But gear is to use and abuse and for the money you can't really go wrong and you ain't going to feel too bad abusing it. I think it's pretty obvious that if you're a self-confessed tackle tart and follow both leading fashions and brands then a shelter like this isn't going to be anywhere near your radar. However if you're the type of angler that doesn't care for fashions and you just want a good reliable bit of kit that doesn't break the bank, then the TFG Force 8 rapid day shelter might be worth looking into. It's a piece of kit that I've already used loads and I'm really happy that I decided to purchase one.

Rating 7/10 

Ideal Application - Protection From Moderate Winds, Rain & Hot Sun

      

Braxted Reservoir 'The Spinning Coin'

I woke up under the clearest of skies, above my head the deepest of one hundred thousand blues. The sun was bright and high in the sky, the breeze was light and warm, I love days like these so much. The conditions were perfect to be out on the water, however I was up and out early for different reasons, I had work to do. Walking to the van without my tackle felt odd and very frustrating. Hopping up into the cab and reluctantly turning the key in the ignition, I suddenly had a wild thought. I was heading up to Colchester but after that my day was free. It occurred to me that on the way up I pass by Braxted. If everything goes according to plan, once I'd done my work I could swing by the waters for an afternoon session. I wouldn't have a great deal of time but it was worth a shot.

One Hundred Thousand Blues

Before I'd even finished that thought I was racing back into my flat to get my tackle. It was all very undignified, I literally grabbed everything by the handful, dragged it out the door and 'carefully' threw it all in the back of the van, smelly fishing clothes included. Now with the engine humming, I opened all the windows fully, cranked the stereo up to 'ear bleeding' volume and made my way out of the city. I whizzed up the motorway and on towards the Dartford tunnel, the music was pumping hard. I had no doubt that the monstrous riffs of the 'self-titled Killing Joke album' were battering everyone within a mile radius. As I entered the tunnel, the music carried and reverberated to crazy levels, I instantly got flashbacks to 'Donnington Monsters Of Rock' 1993.

As I reached the A12 I had a head full of carp and music, the adrenaline was racing through my veins and my thoughts were already at the waters edge. How was I going to fish?, Should I fish zigs?, both of these questions couldn't be answered until I was in my swim and ready for the casts. I simply couldn't wait to get to the lake, however, I still had to hold onto some kind of reality, I was forgetting I had a job on. The journey seemed to last forever and as I past Braxted on the way up, I started to get pretty dam impatient. The miles limped by, the minutes felt like hours. After what felt like a lifetime I eventually rolled into my destination, 'Status-Graphite'. It's a small family run business that builds both guitars and basses out of wood and graphite, they supply to some of the biggest touring bands in the world. What they produce is total quality - if 'Status' built fishing rods, 'I'd take 12 sets'.     

The Task Was Easy

The place has a strange connection to my fishing, one of the craftsmen that works there is the son of the late great Roger Heaton who was bailiff on Kingfishers Hoo complex. I always have a coffee and we have a little natter about all things angling, sadly Roger passed away December 2017. I will miss him very much and the lakes just wont feel the same without him around. So after much conversation, coffees were finished and the guitars were left for servicing, my next destination was the water. I sparked the vans ignition, opened the windows fully again, set the stereo to 'stun' and I was on the road once more. The journey back flew by and before I knew it I was winding down the old farm track to the Braxted car park. As I pulled up, to my surprise, the whole complex was empty, there were no cars and no signs of another human anywhere. It was looking like I had the whole place to myself.

I hopped into the back of the van and covertly changed into my 'stinky' fishing threads. I then took a slow walk around both the front and back lake. By this time some heavy cloud cover started to move in over head, this changed the feel of the day drastically. I had a feeling though that it might actually improve the fishing. Back lake looked lovely and I was tempted, however I knew that come 5:30 it would start to fill up with anglers 'that are only after the big one'. I didn't really want to find myself hemmed in between lots of guys casting out to their 'pre-baited' spots, some of whom think they own the lake. I decided to give it a swerve, the choice was now between the res or front lake, I really couldn't make up my mind. After a good 15 minutes of juggling random 'pros & cons' around in my head, I decided to flip a coin, heads 'the res' & tails 'front lake'.

Heads Or Tails

Prising out a slightly discolored two pence piece from my wallet, I flipped it off my thumb and waited for the decision to reveal itself to me. The penny twirled in the air for a second or two and then hit the floor with a muted thud. It was 'heads', the 'res' it was, the idea of the back breaking walk up wasn't inspiring me much but the coin had spoken. I began the killer journey, it really doesn't get any easier, as usual, by the time I got to the top I was seeing double. This was actually an improvement, usually I'm on the verge of blacking out. By this time it was mid afternoon so I was looking at about 4/5 hours of fishing, that was more than enough to tempt a bite or two. Being the only one up there felt inspiring, it was like a doorway to another world that only I had the key to.

I did a quick lap before deciding where to set up, surprisingly there weren't any signs of fish. This was very rare, the carp in the res are usually pretty clumsy at giving their location away. The water looked dead so I thought I'd follow the wind. It was pushing nicely down towards the dam wall, I'm usually reluctant to fish the dam swim because it gets hammered, but I thought it was worth a go. I was now in two minds whether to fish zigs or bottom baits, I was having a day of extreme 'indecisiveness' so instead of spending more time tangled in thought. I got the coin out again, heads 'zigs' & tails 'bottom baits'. A nice sharp thumb flick saw the coin twirling in the air once more, it hit the deck on tails, the coin had spoken, I'd be fishing on the bottom.

The dam wall swim has a few "go to areas" but I wasn't planning to target any of these. I wanted to get a spot going in the slightly deeper water, the plan was to fish both rods close together and load the swim up with a lot of bait. Taking into consideration that I didn't have a great deal of time, it might sound stupid to be fishing with a lot of bait, but I just a had a feeling that it was the right way to go. There's a pretty high stock of fish in the res and I always use a lot of bait when I'm fishing on the bottom. As usual everything was going to be kept really simple, I'd be fishing running rigs in combination with bottom baits. My bait of choice was 'Tigerfish', I'd be fishing a single boilie on the hair with a small mesh bag containing crushed Tigerfish and a few high oil pellets. This would add a little bit of extra attraction around my hook bait.   

Crushed Tiger Fish

I performed a few measured casts in the 'ball park' area I was planning to target. Both rods were then clipped up to 13 rod lengths, I made the penultimate casts, both landed perfectly. It worked out that both rigs were roughly a rod length away from each other. I then proceeded to spread about a kilo and a half of freebies in and around the area. It was a proper big spread, I didn't keep it too tight, I wanted to draw the carp in and get them feeding confidently. Working on the basis that over the past year or so, a lot of smaller fish seemed to be coming through. I wanted enough bait out there to, 'hopefully' attracted the slightly larger ones. Both alarms were flicked on, bobbins were hung and I could finally take a seat.

View From The Swim

It had been a pretty busy day and it seemed like a hell of a lot of effort for what would only amount to a couple of hours. But I'm always up for getting the rods out whenever possible, you don't have to be doing long haul sessions. Within twenty minutes of setting up all the clouds cleared and it was bright sunshine once again. My favorite kind of day had returned, I sat there alone by the water watching everything around me. The light breeze continued to push down towards the dam, gulls cut through the sky above and the usual politics was occurring between the mallards and coots, they appear to be forever at war. Sitting surveying everything around the water, the real world seemed like it was a million miles away, which was fine with me, for the next few hours I had no interest in it.

Over the next hour or so I started to receive a few liners and a couple of carp topped towards the back of my spot. There were definitely fish moving in on my bait and all the signs were pointing to a bite. I grabbed my binoculars and started scanning the area, I clocked a few patches of bubbles. They were quite hard to see because the ripples were obscuring them but I counted at least five separate patches. Now with a slightly raised heart rate I sat as still as a statue and focused on my rod tips, one could go at any second. More line bites started and as my attention went from my tips, to the water, and back again. A huge eruption appeared directly over my right hand rod, you could literally see the silt clouding in the upper layers.

The Tip Of My Attention

BANG! my right rod exploded into life, the buzzer screamed and the clutch whirled and clicked, grabbing the rod and leaning into the madness. The blank arched round and I was connected to, what felt like, a really good fish. It was steaming at speed out into the open water, I held on tight, with the sun low over head I was being blinded by the reflection on the surface of the water. I literally couldn't see anything, I clambered up holding the rod in one hand and managed to grab my polarized sunglasses with the other. Waiting for the bright blotches to disappear from within my eyes-balls, I was 'back in the game'. At this point I hadn't gained any ground so I decided to let the carp 'blow its load' and then start to tease it back towards me.

I wasn't in any rush, this fish felt heavy so I just braced for the ride, after another 10 minutes or so I finally started to guide her my way. It was now only a short distance out and as it fought for every inch of its life, just below the surface, the suns rays suddenly reflected off a huge flank of large mirror scales, that's a moment I'll never forget. I instantly knew which fish it was. A few years back an angler I got talking to on the bank had showed me a photo of this specific fish. To say that it's unique looking is an understatement. I was now feeling really nervous and as I lowered the net down and went for the final scoop, I prayed to god that it would go in with no fuss. To my relief the carp cruised over the cords with no sudden bid for freedom. 

A Shimmering Prize

I couldn't quite believe what I was witnessing, this was an incredible example of a mirror carp and I can safely say that it was way up there with one of the best I've ever caught. It was an honour to be able to hold such a mind blowing creature. It seemed that passing both my choices and decisions over to a measly, discolored two pence coin really paid off. It wasn't something I was going to make a habit of but fate had definitely dealt me a winning hand. I gave the fish a good soaking with some water, checked its mouth which was perfect - 'due to the fact I hadn't bullied it'. Now it was time to get a few shots, preserve the memory and then send her back home.

Pure Perfection - in every sense

To say I was happy would be dishonest, I was blown away, I was so pleased that I'd decided to make the effort to fish today, this capture wouldn't of happened otherwise. It just goes to show, like many times before, short sessions can pay off. If the fish are feeding and you drop in on them then you can get quick results. The rest of the afternoon passed me by without another bite, this really didn't bother me, to be able to sit and watch the day slowly decay into evening was a simple pleasure, I packed up 'a happy man'. The long walk back down to the van was a blur and as I started my journey home, with both windows wide open and the stereo pumping out some hard and heavy riffs. I once again felt lucky to have angling in my life, you just never know what might happen. This short and 'indecisive' session will be one that I'll remember for many years to come. Where will I end up next? I might just let the coin decide.

Heads Or Tails?

Braxted Reservoir 'Fixed Zig Fishing"

There was only a month or so to wait until my Chelmsford waters were set to open. The club has a great system in place, those that participate in an out of season work party get to fish from May 1st. This gives you a month of relatively quiet fishing before the club officially opens come the 15th June. I always choose to go and work down on Micklem Mere, in my mind, it's a water with a great future ahead of it and being part of it now, in its infancy, gives me a huge sense of purpose. As morbid as it may sound, when I'm long gone and the anglers of tomorrow are perched on its banks, fragments of me will be ingrained within its soil. There have been many times when I'm on my waters and I find myself thinking of all of those that have come before me, so many waters hold just as many ghosts as they do fish. I sometimes wonder what stories the swims contain, what discussions they've overheard and, of course, what monsters they've witnessed. As generations of anglers come and go, each leaving a fraction of themselves on all the waters they choose to fish, the one true constant, the real history, is within the carp themselves.

'New Swim' Work In Progress 'Micklem Mere'

History to me can mean so many things, especially when it comes to angling, it wasn't so long ago when I took a 'non-fishing' trip back to the water that I basically grew up fishing on, it was strangely emotional. Even though a huge amount of time had passed it still held the same feelings. I almost had a lump in my throat as I walked around remembering the amazing times I'd had. I stood looking at all the swims, some of which, a good few decades ago, me and my friends use to pitch up in for days. They hadn't changed, nothing had really changed, only the faces. The lake was now occupied by a whole new set of anglers, none of which would truly know of the beautiful 'history' that's embedded directly beneath their feet. As I stood soaking up 'the once familiar', watching as those fishing cast their lines out into my past. I had no doubt that they were making their own memories that, one day, they'll look back on with great affection. There are many aspects of my 'history' that I choose to forget, to keep buried, but my angling past is something I choose to dip into every so often. Like most things in life, over time, there are elements that become irrelevant. But I don't find this to be the case with fishing, everything that has come before makes both the waters and the fish what they are today - and so the cycle continues. 

I was up and out early on the day of the session, having been chained to the banks of Burrows for so long, it felt refreshing to be heading out to a new destination. I opened my front door to a very different world, gone were the icy bitter winds and the dark foreboding skies. I was now met with a mild warmth, clear blue horizons and a series of sure signs that spring was well and truly on its way. It wouldn't be long before I craved the smell of fish-meals and GLM base-mixes, both Spring and Summer just wouldn't be the same without them. Today I'd chosen to visit Braxted reservoir, it's not an overly hard water and I felt it was the perfect place to kick off my new season. Making the long journey up the A102, through the Dartford tunnel and up onto the A12, surprisingly, was a ritual I'd missed. Time always seems to fly by because my expectations on the pending session are playing out in my head. It's only once I've stopped at Boreham services, with my journey nearly complete, do I feel the excitement take hold, I can't seem to get to the water quick enough. Closer and closer I got, off the A12 I turned, I'd have to snake through a few country lanes before a quick ride along an old farm track would see me safely into the complex car park.

With my gear now loaded on the Barrow, it was only the back breaking walk up to the reservoir itself that stood in my way. This might sound pretty straightforward but the walk takes you through a large farm yard and then up a hill that gets progressively steeper the higher up you get. Just when you think you're getting to the end, it progresses further and gets even steeper still. It has to be seen to be believed and I know its been the 'downfall' of many an angler throughout the years. I've always made this crazy agreement with myself that I wouldn't stop once, however painful it got, I'd always try to do it in one go. I'm proud to say I've always managed it, although I do have at least 20 minutes of vertigo when I finally reach its summit. So ... here I was, my beloved water now within touching distance, but I still had the final hill to go. I was puffing and panting, each limb in my body burning, just a few more meters .... phew !!!! I'd made it. Now with a strange nausea and dizziness, I feasted my eyes on 'the res', it looked perfect. There was a strange haze that shrouded the landscape, all the trees and bushes were displaying a 'new born green', and coupled with that, a lovely warm light breeze was carrying itself down towards the dam wall. 

The Summit

Once my 'discombobulation' eased off it became apparent very quickly that the carp were up in the layers. They were all over the place, some with their backs out, others just below the surface. I was going to approach this in the most direct way possible, opting to fish fixed zigs exactly where the majority of the fish were. I wasn't going to mess about trying to suss the 'exact' depth out, I feel you can get way too preoccupied with this. It was simple, I would fish one zig at 8ft and the other at 9ft, the maximum depth, where the fish were holding was about 12ft/13ft. I was working on the basis that the carp were going to be at all different depths. One thing was very clear though, they certainly weren't anywhere near the bottom, so fishing on the deck was totally out of the question. I got everything setup quickly but precision was needed to get the zigs just right. To do this I use a tape measure and a single bivvy peg. The bivvy peg goes through the center of my hook link spool and I simply measure out the desired length.

Precision Measurements

My favored hook-link for zig fishing is 'Rig Marole Specialist Mono' in 10IB, it has a fairly low diameter and doesn't kink or twist. I find dedicated zig lines to be troublesome, they have a habit of twisting and knotting up after a few casts. In combination with this I use a size 8 'Nash Fang Twister' hook, my bait is then tied on 'knot-less knot' style with a very small piece of rig tube to create a 'blow-back' effect. I understand there are a few products on the market to make zig fishing easier, Fox Zig Aligners etc, but I don't have a great deal of interest in using them. I like to make all my rigs from scratch with my own chosen components. Bait wise, I don't use a food source, I opt for relatively small colorful pieces of foam, the 'Avid Zig Lites' are perfect. These are usually topped off with an imitation maggot, I'm going for curiosity bites, something small and colorful seems to work for me. Finally I use the lightest lead I feel I can get away with, I favor 1.5oz riser fished on a lead clip.

Small & Bright

I understand that fishing zigs is still rather perplexing for some out there, my advice to you is simple, it's all about 'mindset'. Understand that carp are designed to locate the smallest of items and microorganisms anywhere in their environment, they're masters of their realm. If they can pinpoint blood-worm and other food in the murky depths, buried deep within the silt and weed. They sure as hell can hone in on an item suspended in the layers, sometimes they need some encouragement, for instance, spodding soup to draw them in. But if you can actively see them dancing on, or near the surface in front of you, then a single suspended bait is more than enough to tempt a bite. Through the years I've come to understand that zigs don't necessarily work on every water, however, if the venue has a relatively high stock where the fish have to compete for the food, they can be highly effective. It's just a process of trial and error, dedicate a sensible amount of time to them, then you can draw your own conclusion - for those conclusions to come, you have to stick with it. 

The Riser 

Now with both my zigs meticulously tied it was just a case of getting them out, with a nice tight cast, my left rod went directly into the middle where the majority of the carp seemed to be holding. It didn't seem to spook them, this is the reason I love riser leads so much, due to their shape they covertly 'clip' into the water with very little disturbance. I dropped my right rod short, there appeared to be a few bigger carp straying away from the main crowd, again, the cast didn't seem to disturb them. When zig fishing I like to keep my line fairly tight, I wound in the slack until both rod tips were bowing over, bobbins were hung. Finally my first session of the new season was officially underway and it felt pretty dam good. It's hard to believe that only a few months ago I was sitting shivering down on the banks of Burrows, barely being able to feel both my feet and hands. As much as I enjoyed it, it was a bloody endurance test.         

View From The Swim

The first bite came quickly, my left rod was the first to go, there I was just about to descend into 'full daydreaming mode', when the bobbin slowly lifted up to the blank and stopped. I proceeded to gently lift the rod up and make contact with my first Chelmsford carp of the year, a spirited like scrap resumed. The fish didn't feel particularly big but I was just happy to get the bite. Mid battle a lovely chocolate colored common briefly peered its head through the waters skin, I swear we made eye contact. It came close, turned on its side and seemed to welcome the net mesh without any final bid for freedom. It was a lovely little carp, spotless and perfect looking in every way. The quick result told me that my approach was spot on, I could now sit confidently knowing that I could be up for a few more bites. A few snaps were taken, the carp was sent home and the zig was straight back out. The cast was crisp, the riser clipped back through the surface of the water, I waited for the drop .... DONK!. The bobbin was hung and I was back to 'pre-day dreaming mode'. 

The First On A 9ft Zig

Zigs make for a welcome break compared to fishing on the bottom, I don't have to faff around with changing boilies, dropping and losing boilie stops, or tying bags up. I simply check the hook, push the little piece of rig tubing back up, 'so the blow-back effect is primed', pop a nugget on and fire it back out. I find it very engaging, as demonstrated, if you're on some fish you can usually get a very quick result. So now with the kettle on I sat back and watched the carp, they were in constant motion. It was such a refreshing sight having spent the Winter staring for hours at a water that was content on giving absolutely nothing away. The fish seemed utterly care free, topping, twisting and circling around from one direction to the other. I knew it was just a matter of time before another bite occurred, both zigs were placed perfectly. My eyes kept focusing on, what appeared to be, a couple of rather large carp that were out on their own. They were moving slowly and far more cautiously, surveying their environment in far greater detail.

My intent observation was abruptly banished when my right rod sprung into action, it ripped off so violently, the tip was pulsating sharp to the right, the drag was buzzing. Lifting into the fish I instantly knew I was connected to something special, it was heavy, really heavy. I let it take as much line as it wanted, I wasn't going to rush this one. After the initial run, it slowed, I was steadily easing it back towards me but it seemed determined to stay very close to the margin down to my right. There were a number of low lying branches and snags, I had no doubt that it was going to do its best to dive into them. When obstructions are about it's amazing the extra power the fish seem to acquire. This made me nervous, considering it was on a 9ft hook-link, that was a lot of exposed line to get severed. Keeping the rod low and adopting some serious side strain I managed to keep the fish away from danger, it was now in touching distance. I lowered the net, eased and teased, it  suddenly surfaced, it was one hell of a common, easily a good twenty. Closer and closer she came, I was preying that the 'net fear' wouldn't kick in, I really didn't want it racing off again, I wanted to 'complete this transaction' in an orderly fashion. All was calm, up on the side she went, with my heart now in my mouth I slipped the net under, what looked to be, the largest fish I've landed on a zig.
 

Largest Zig Capture

I was totally blown away, it's amazing to think that a carp of this size would take such a tiny piece of foam. When you truly analyze it, you are suspending a minuscule fragment in a vast underwater universe, you'd think it would remain lost forever. But this just isn't the case, it reinforces just how incredible the carps senses really are. After a few photos I took great pleasure in watching her swim back home, I checked the hook, it was good to go, a nugget was slipped on and the cast was made. It appeared a large number of fish had now vacated the area, there were still a few milling about but the numbers had dwindled. I still felt confident in fishing the zigs though, I just didn't see the point in even considering going onto the bottom. For the next few hours everything seemed to go quite. The conditions remained the same but it was clear most the fish had moved on. I decided I'd just sit it out, sit on my hands and see what late afternoon would bring.

Time continued to tick by, a couple of coffees and a few teas later I was still waiting. Late afternoon came, the air turned cooler and with it, the fish started showing. They were still down my end but appeared to be really spread out, they were leaping and jumping like crazy, many were now showing along the dam wall. Looking carefully, after each leap, streams of bubbles would kick up off the bottom. Maybe they'd started feeding on the deck?, I had a decision to make, do I stick it out up in the layers or do I get down on the deck. I couldn't make my mind up, I can be utterly indecisive with decisions like this. I was twiddling my thumbs, wrestling with the conundrum that stood before me when, out of nowhere, my left rod was away. It appeared the stalling and indecisiveness had made the decision for me. The fish had taken the bait and shot towards me at lightening speed, I was reeling in the slack like a madman. The fight resumed under the rod tip, it was 'pure pleasure', my 3IB Ballistas have such a lovely tip action, the rod literally does all the work for you. All you have to do is stand back and soak up the communication between the blank and the fish. Each tug and pull travels along the carbon, in through my arm, across my rib cage and straight to the heart. The fish slipped into the net with little fuss, I instantly recognized it, it was a unique looking mirror I'd had off the bottom a year or so ago. It was great to see that it was still in prime condition, if memory serves me well, it was about 17IB.

An Old Friend

Reacquainting yourself with a previous capture can be enlightening, especially when you see that the fish is doing well. It makes it so apparent that the fish we catch don't just cease to exist the minute that we release them. The carp I catch are never 'out of sight, out of mind', they go on and continue to live and function both in my mind and in the water simultaneously, that's why we must always take the upmost care of them. When I sit and fish on any of my waters I often wonder where my past captures are hiding. This thought goes back to the very beginning of this blog, in regards to history. I feel that every fish we catch, we become part of it, an element of its past, and when they go on and continue to live through the years, sometimes outliving those that fish for them. They gather and contain a rich tapestry of everything that has come before them. It might seem a rather profound way of looking at something that many describe in a derogatory way, such as 'mud-pigs', but I feel they deserve much more respect than that. 

This fish signaled the end of the session, I'd had a great day, I sensed that the 60 odd miles home wouldn't feel very long, it's never a drag when I've had a good day. Packing up and giving 'the res' one last look, it felt great to be back. I know it's beneficial for the waters to have a closed season but I really do miss fishing them. Down the hill I rolled and on through the farm yard, the smell of cow dung hit me as I went, strangely it's a smell I'd missed. Now back at the van with the gear loaded, I peered through the trees at front lake, it looked perfect. Last season I hadn't put a great deal of time in on the place. As I stood there watching, a few carp leapt clear of the water up the far end by the buoy. They looked to be good fish, I felt a feeling brewing in my gut, traveling at pace up through my heart and into my head. It was obsession taking hold, the carp I'd caught today had pacified it briefly but it now appeared that front lake had kicked it straight off again. Within seconds I was already itching to cast my lines out into its water, I was hatching a plan. Carp Fishing - there just ain't no cure!       

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.