Burrows 'Echoes From The Valley' Part 8

"The Only Source Of Knowledge Is Experience" ... Albert Einstein 

A good few weeks had evaporated since my last successful session, I'd made a few trips out, unfortunately they all resulted in blanks. Flicking back through my incredibly creased and soggy, 'carp-data' notebook, there weren't any definitive patterns that I could see forming. Bites appeared to come sporadically, the blanks I'd recently endured were interesting though, that told me that the spot I was targeting wasn't an area that the carp visit on a daily basis. The one constant throughout was the weather, it had remained the same, give or take the odd rise or fall in temperature. This made it clear to me that the conditions didn't really have any bearing on if there were any fish present or not. I felt they were either going to be in and around the area or they weren't. My original plan was to persevere, targeting the same spot through thick and thin, and that's exactly what I was going to continue to do.

Going back to the subject of 'blanking', it can be a sore subject for some, I find it's to easy to take it as a negative. The only time you ever really learn anything is through your mistakes. Blanking isn't necessarily a 'mistake', it's simply part of the process and if you make sure you learn something from it, then it can end up being a valuable lesson. Blanks can force you to make minor adjustments that can end up paying off in the long run. You learn by watching, listening and doing, we go through a process with everything we do and 'in many ways' the end result isn't always the most valuable part of it. To me, the end result is determined by the process that you go through to get there. The learning comes from the journey, if you proceed to do the correct things, then you should get the desired result. Through time I've found that most things have the same process, it's just a different product at the end of it.

Lets take this right back to the obvious, you could be a master craftsman who is an artist with a mortarboard, you build a house from the ground up. You take your time, you're specialty is laying bricks, all in perfect symmetry, once built you finish the interior off to perfection, creating intricate and detailed patterns with tiles and mosaics. You install lovely wooden beams and staircases, beautiful bay windows that let the brightest of light into every room. Once finished you stand back and admire your handy work. The completed house now stands like a work of art, ready and waiting for a family to move in and call it home. After a number of viewings you start to notice a few things, a small crack in the plaster has developed on both the ceilings and the walls. Outside, on closer inspection you notice a few cracks in both the bricks and cement. Something is clearly wrong, how could anything be wrong with a house that looks so perfect?. That's simple, you didn't consider the foundations.

When you laid the houses foundations you didn't fully understand the process and all the elements that were involved in making them correctly. You had limited understanding in this area and you brushed over the finer details, through time the cracks grew, the walls split and eventually one side of the house fell down. It got to the point where the whole thing had to be demolished and started again from 'a strong foundation' up. It didn't matter how perfect and 'correct' the house looked on the surface, without the right understanding of the foundations, all of the thought and perfection you put into everything else meant nothing. The above example, for me, is a strong metaphor for life and how we live it. I've mentioned it before but there are so many metaphors in angling that run seamlessly into everyday life. Going all the way back to 'blanking', we would learn nothing if we all caught all of the time. When we go through a period when we can't seem to catch a carp, we need to understand why - and build on it.

This thought process stands when we're going through a stage where our catch rate is up and we can't seem to put a foot wrong, we also need to understand why this is. Focusing on both these points gives us a strong understanding of the 'whys' and 'hows' of, not only carp angling, but everything we do. I believe the consistent anglers out there that steadily put fish on the bank are the ones that have built their 'understanding' from the ground up and continue to work on it every time they get out on the bank. Their 'foundation' of experience is so solid and there's a complete affinity as to why this is, and it's obvious why they're getting the desired 'end result'. Stripping it right down to the bone, you can't just turn your hand to angling, buy all the gear, 'look the part' and then wonder why you aren't hauling 20's and 30's.

It just isn't that simple, these types of people have no experience to build a foundation on, experience is earned and it takes a long time and a hell of a lot of effort. Primarily you need to have the willingness to learn and listen, not instantly think that you know it all because you've watched Korda Masterclass 6. We live in an instant world where we can obtain the things we want by a touch of a button. We're living a life where tomorrow is just too long to wait, most want things 'NOW' and some feel that they're entitled to it. To a degree some in the angling industry have tapped into this, providing venues where large amounts of big fish to the acre provide us with the chance of catching a 30 or 40 without a huge amount of effort. These venues are all very well but do you learn as much from them as you do fishing an old mere containing wiley old 'double figured' carp - I don't think you do.

So let us go way, way back to the beginning ...

Next time you're going through a stage where nothing seems to be going right and you're 'drawing blanks', don't get annoyed about it. Realize that it's all part of a process, look into what you can do to change things and work on building both a strong foundation and an understanding. I've had to learn this and continue to work on it every time I cast my lines out, after nearly 28 years of chasing myths, I'm still learning, and will continue to do so. Secondly, don't put pressure on yourself in regards to the size of fish you catch. A lovely looking double from a hard water is worth so much, it shows that what you are doing is right. Consistency is the key, I know that with consistency eventually the bigger fish come, and when they do it's a real special surprise and an achievement - it's this that keeps all of us venturing back to the water time and time again. 

The morning of the session arrived and I was up and out early, I was having extreme deja-vu, again, the weather was identical to my last few sessions. It's as if the season had fallen into some kind of trance. I'd been thinking a lot about my last few trips, the fact I hadn't caught had my brain on overdrive. Today I was going to pretty much stick with the same approach, only this time I was going to spread a little more bait further afield. Up to now I'd been keeping everything pretty tight, if I increased the area I was baiting up then surly I'd stand more of chance at attracting a passing carp or two. As mentioned in the start of this blog, in regards to 'learning from a blank'. What was the point of going back down to do exactly the same thing when both the past few sessions had been unproductive. Sometimes changing the smallest link in the chain can make all the difference.

Home On The Landscape

Once at the water I went through the usual 'rigmarole' of getting the swim set up correctly, I'd upped one handful of bait to two, all freebies were meticulously squashed - it was a strangely therapeutic and satisfying feeling. All the boilies that had taken on the most glug squished between my fingers like over ripened grapes. Now with the sweet scent of both the Banana Cream & Honey Nectar emanating from my finger tips, I made the ceremonial journey around the lake, smelling my hands as I went. Arriving at my target area, I crouched down and peered into the murk, I couldn't see a thing. I could only hope that a carp or two may come and pay it a visit at some stage during the day. I put some of the bait in the usual area and then spread the rest further up the margin towards the sunken post. My thinking behind this was simple, if any fish move in and hold by the post, my bait trail might just lead them up to my carefully placed hook-baits.

Once back in the swim, rods were clipped up to 13 rod lengths, both hook baits were cut down, hairs were baited, both rods went out cleanly. Because I'd fished this swim so much now, I felt I was being very mechanical about things, in my head, all the sessions were slowly blending into one. It's ok for me to fish like this for a short period of time as an experiment, but there's no way I could do it for the long term. I've never got on with just fishing one lake, or just one or two swims. I like to get out and about and try to suss out a number of waters all at the same time. This keeps things fresh, and it always keeps you thinking. I find over time, once you've found a series of things that work for you on a variety of waters. You're never short of places to go and specific spots to target.

Target Area Extended

With both rods positioned it was now time for the inevitable 'wait', followed by 'as expected', the coffee ritual. I was going to hit it heavy today, three large scoops went into the cafetiere - if you're going to do it, do it properly. I sat impatiently waiting for the kettle to boil, I couldn't properly relax until I had a good dose of caffeine firing through my system. Sitting watching the water I felt like I was at a repeat viewing of a theater performance. Just like last time, the same trees stood wiry and the same clouds hung in the same sky. It was as if everything was just repeating itself over and over again. I started to think how strange it would be if in fact, it all simply stopped and came to a complete stand still the minute that I left. How weird would that be? if in fact everywhere you left simply paused and waited for your return to carry on. 'I suddenly had flash-backs to my parents old Betamax video'. Back in those days, being able to pause a video tape was a major technological advancement - pausing time might be asking to much!   

                              The Wait 'Time Hypnosis'

It didn't take long for the action to happen, the bobbin on my right hand rod lifted very slowly up to the blank and stopped. The excitement flooded every inch of my body, I felt like I'd received a short, sharp adrenaline shot to the heart. Even though the clutch didn't kick in, I knew a fish was on. I gently lifted the rod and wound in the slack, I was greeted with a ferocious energy. The fish kited hard towards the post, steady force guided her back my way. Once in open water, I tinkered with the clutch accordingly, it was addictively ticking. Slowly tweaking it counter clockwise and back again, I felt like I was maneuvering a dial mechanism on a combination safe, desperately trying to find the right calculation to land the fish safely. Just when I though I was gaining ground, it would find a new lease of life, after a good 10 minutes I finally started to feel that I was winning, eventually I slipped the net under a pristine common. It was one hell of a battle and it looked to be one hell of a fish. 

Scale Perfect

Its proportions were perfect, there wasn't a single scale missing, draped in its winter skin it was raw, pure 'nature' in the hands. After a few photos I gently eased her back home, within seconds she'd disappeared. I reeled my left hand rod in and decided to go and top the swim up with another few handfuls. Arriving at my spot I thought I'd do my customary 'peering into the murk', looking closely, I noticed a couple of streams of bubbles. They were very small, I continued to watch, they'd stop for a few minutes and then reappear having moved only a couple of inches. If there were a few fish down there I didn't want to be dumping bait right on their heads. So I decided to shuffle back quietly and make my way back to the swim. Now I had the conundrum of getting my baits back out without spooking any fish that 'might' be feeding.

New Bait Positions

Back in my swim there was some head scratching to be done, I had to get my rigs out in the most 'covert' way possible. I wasn't 100% sure if what I'd seen was feeding fish, however I was going to work on the basis that it was. The kettle went on and I delved into the cobweb ridden recesses of my mind to find an answer. After procrastinating for a minute or six, I cobbled a master plan together. I decided that I'd drop down from a 3oz lead to a 1.5oz, one rod would be fished short, the second, at least two rod lengths along the margin. Firstly, I was thinking that the smaller leads wouldn't make so much of an impact when they hit the water. Secondly, if in fact there were fish feeding, I wanted to place my hook-baits far enough away where I wouldn't spook them, but keep them close enough, that they still had a chance of coming across them. I opted to use 'brown weed' inlines, due to the material that they're made from, they're great for glugging in flavors and attractants. Anything to add pulling power to my hook bait was a bonus and this is a tactic I've used to great effect in the past. 

Brown Weed Inline

The left hand rod was clipped to 13 rod lengths, the right hand rod was going to be a measured 'pub chuck'. Both leads were dunked in a sticky combination of both the Honey Nectar and Banana Cream glugs. Both casts were made, each landed where I wanted them to. Now it was time to sit back and hope my 'tactical' change was going to get me the result I wanted. All expectations of another quick bite soon vanished as I sat behind static rods for a vast majority of the day. I'd been staring intently at both the water and my rod tips, urging for something to happen. Watching the water with such focus was hypnotic, the gentle breeze was drawing and sketching shapes on its skin. Every so often it would change direction, the water has no defense against the wind, it simply does what it's told. Stretching, contorting and continually morphing into different versions of itself. When I looked away and fixed my eyes on something static, everything appeared to be bending at distorting. 

Late afternoon arrived and I was starting to lose hope, being Friday, a few anglers started to show up carrying buckets. I didn't want to hang around to much longer, I knew that when leads, spods and bivy pegs started to fracture the silence, it was going to kill my chances completely. I started to pack up the essentials, reluctantly, I reeled my right hand rod in and proceeded to pack it down as slow as possible. All my hope was no pinned on 'last knocking', as I was just about to admit defeat, my left rod was off. I was almost in disbelief, sliding and tripping down to the rod, I grabbed it and was instantly connected to a 'hard fighting' invisible force. This was a heavy fish, it became apparent quickly, my ballista bent double, I swear I heard it scream out in agony as it did its upmost to cushion the chaos. I held on, the fishes initial run was extreme, metaphorically we were 'passing the parcel', I just hoped when the music stopped, I was the one holding the prize.

Very slowly the fish began to tire, closer it came, still trying, occasionally, to make one last dash for freedom. Only a short way out, the fish surfaced and wallowed under the surface, it looked to be a chunky light blue-ish mirror. Easing her my way, I lowered the net and made the lunge of a lifetime, in she went ... what a result!. I took a few seconds to realign my thoughts, peering down into the net it became apparent quickly that what I'd just landed was an old friend. It was a carp I had from this exact same swim back in the summer - what are the bloody odds?. I remember it because it was the largest carp of an 8 fish haul, she weighed about 24IB 5oz, it looked like she'd lost a little bit of weight and looked all the more healthy because of it. I recall she had a fair bit of mouth damage that I treated with propolis, it appeared it had all healed perfectly which was brilliant to see.

An Old Friend

It was the perfect way to end the session, the spot was really starting to produce now, what I'd set out to do at the beginning of winter was really coming together. I believe all the minor tweaks and changes I'd been making was certainly helping things along. I got all my gear together, chucked it on the barrow in an 'undignified' fashion, and made my escape. True to form, spods were starting to fly, bivy pegs were being tortured and someone already had a radio blaring. I feel so blessed that I can get to the water when the majority can't, some just don't understand that their actions, from the minute they turn up, play a huge part on how their session is going to turn out. I've mentioned it before, you have to become the water and mold yourself into the universe that surrounds it. You can't bring 'the modern world' into something so beautifully primitive, it spoils it.         

Burrows 'Echoes From The Valley' Part 7

"Here on the inside, outside's so far away"

Life appeared to be moving at a crazy pace of late, I felt like everything had been accelerating around me. It was like I was on a carousel and I couldn't seem to get the hell off of it. It's hard to feel grounded when your feet barely have time to touch the ground. Through recent weeks it had become clear that I wasn't going to get as many winter trips in as I first thought. This made it all the more important to make the most of the time I did have. My job is chaos and being self-employed you have to take the work when it comes in, however heavy the schedule is, you've just got to get your head down and do it. To help me through, in my mind, I always picture the waters, the stillness that they hold, and the solitude that they offer. I know that however hard things get on 'the outside', they'll always be waiting for me safe, on 'the inside'. 

For me 'the outside' is a place that's unrecognizable to the one I grew up in. It represents constraint, conditioning and a constant attack on the mind. I guess its always been that way but I was to young to realize. It's as if we're all part of some 'twisted theater' passed off as real. I get a very strong sense that we're all, 'unknowingly' following a script that's been written for us years ago. You only have to look on both TV, social media, or open a paper, to realize that the troubled times we live in are breeding hatred to epidemic proportions. I find it very hard not to get caught up in it all. But, I truly believe that's what 'the hidden hand' that controls every aspect of our life wants, I refuse to play their game. A population living in fear and fighting amongst itself is a population that's open to manipulation and control - both of these things are happening on a daily basis.  

I try to find a very fine balance between being aware of what's happening around me, but also understanding that it's always going to be a mess. It's either a big one or a small one, but, a mess it will always be. All we can do is try to live our lives the best we can with what we've got. It's realizing what's important to you and holding it close, trying not to let the bad things around you change you as a person. In times of unrest, we've got to hold on to both ourselves and the ones closest to us. I yearn for clarity, the clearest of moments I've ever experienced have been when I'm fishing. Applying your mind fully to the water creates the perfect head space to refuel and realign your perspective on everything in your life that has been giving you a hard time. 

It's here on 'the inside' where the magic happens, it's forever contained within itself. It's a place that functions perfectly without any outside influence. It's where the sun rises over misty pools, where the glimpse of a dorsal cutting the waters skin stokes the imagination. We watch and wait for the unknown to unearth itself, if only for a second or two. All of us anglers, we don't need the 'outside', we're chasing something far greater, something that those without a rod in hand will never understand. That to me is a gift, it's a gift that can't be taken away from us. So let us all forget the worlds bullshit and concentrate on getting out there and making them penultimate casts - that's what 'the inside' is all about. 

When the day of my session came it was very clear how I was going to approach it. I'd had a great result last time so I was going to stick with cutting my hook-baits right down and squashing my freebies. I felt this subtle change was the reason I managed to tempt a few more bites. The only downside to this specific approach was having to walk around the water and introduce my freebies by hand. As crazy as it sounds though, maybe removing the lines from the swim, if only for a short time, might just work in my favor. I was out the door and on the road by 8am, the weather was bitter and pretty dam unwelcoming. I was cruising down the motorway at a leisurely pace, the road in front of me was clear, I was making my escape, determined to get on 'the inside' as soon as I could.

On the other side of the road the traffic was already backed up to a stand still, hundreds of lives were trapped in strange metal boxes with four wheels attached to them. Each fighting their way through the 'everyday' to scratch their fingers to the bone, trying to earn a living. Each of their bodies, a 'metaphorical cog' in the broken system that helps to keep both our country and economy running. Somewhere within it all 'living' had to be slotted into the equation, but I fear for many, that's nothing but a brief encounter. I feel blessed I have the time to step away from work commitments to transplant myself into something that I enjoy.

Arriving at the gate to the complex, I unlocked the padlock, it felt heavier than usual, it was wet and extraordinarily freezing to the touch. It was clear the season was going to bite hard today, I hoped that the six or so layers I was 'struggling to move in', might just give me a little comfort during my quest to try and land another few fish. This time of the year there is still a very muted voice in my head telling me 'You must be mad', being out in such conditions, not only being outside, but morphing myself into an environment that's doing its best to exclude me. But being 'careless' and utterly obsessed with the adventure, there would have to be a pretty serious natural disaster to stop me from making my casts. I crept up the muddy path in the van up to the car park, it was empty, I was totally alone, it was me, the water and the carp ..... PERFECT! 

Review Of The Swim In Summer 'Red Dot Is The Sunken Post'

Everything was thrown on the barrow in a god awful fashion, carelessly locking it all in place with two fraying bungee straps. I started, what I can only describe as a 'bloody endurance test', trying to push it around the clay ridden, water logged paths to get to my swim. After what felt like a marathon, I plonked the barrow down and before setting anything up, I thought I'd take a wander to deposit my freebies in the usual places. Walking around the top end of Burrows where the cages were situated, the atmosphere was exhilarating. Everything around me appeared paralyzed, just like last time, the water had no ripples and the skeletons of all the trees stood rigid and wiry. I felt like an anomaly, the odd one out, even though there are times when I feel completely dead inside, today I was very much alive.

View Up Into The Cages 'As Spring Wakes' 2016

Arriving at my spot, a swift handful was spread along the edge of the marginal growth. I legged it back to my swim and proceeded to get everything constructed and ready to go. I was using the exact same rigs as last time, except this time my hook-link was a very short 'trigga-link combi'. Using this in conjunction with a 3oz lead was going to enhance its springlike qualities perfectly. Both cut down boilies were threaded intricately onto the hairs, rods were wrapped to 12.5 rod lengths, finally those penultimate casts were made. The lines kissed both clips, both the drops felt satisfying, with bobbins hung I was now ready for the inevitable 'wait'. Despite the harshness of the world around the water, I felt quietly confident that I could tempt at least one bite.

'Trigga-link' Combi

I put my brolly up, got the kettle on and quietly worked on existing perfectly within the moment. Here I was, alone, perched by the water, safe on 'the inside', nothing else mattered other than the mystery below the surface and the life that surrounded me. I sat silently, knowing that beyond the gate to the complex there was a fight for survival. All those souls that were at a stand still in the morning would've now reached their destinations. Each with a different task they had to complete, clocks would've been punched, rotas put into practice, all with endless rules that had to be followed. I hate all of the above, it's as if humans are being moulded into machines, and through repetition, becoming desensitized to what life should really be about. I believe the life style that's forced upon us is contributing to the ever growing problems with mental illness.

Both the human mind and body wasn't created to be contained, it isn't suppose to be 'mechanized'. A caged mind can only take so much and I feel when people have a 'breakdown', that's the minds way of telling you it has had enough with the constraint that's being forced upon it. I hastily reverted all my thoughts back to the water, what was the point in pulling 'the outside' into a place that it doesn't belong. Suddenly my right hand rod rocketed off, the tip swung round and the clutch whizzed away. I lifted into the fish, it was darting around like crazy, the minor tugs and lunges indicated that it was no monster, I was just happy to get a bite. After a spirited little battle I slipped a lovely little mirror carp over the net.

Scale Perfect

Slipping her back I got the rod straight back out, I decided that I wouldn't walk around and top the swim up. For some reason I was feeling rather lucky, I had a feeling in my gut that, whatever bait was left out there, it was enough to get another bite. Time was passing and as midday melted into afternoon the temperature started to drop, with this came a slight breeze that was gently pushing down towards the bowl end of the water. I was glued to my rod tips urging for one of my alarms to go screaming off, both remained static. After another hour or so I decided to reel in and take a wander to apply some more bait. Along the path and up around the cages I went, the mud and clay was 'squelching' beneath my feet, slowly sticking to both my boots. By the time I got to my spot, both of my feet weighed a ton, walking with a combination of clay, mud, and now sticks stuck to my boots is no easy task. Freebies were once again thrown along the marginal growth, this time tighter than before.

When I got back to my swim I decided to wrap the rods up to '13' lengths, I wanted to be kissing those branches, getting my bait as tight as possible. Both casts were perfect and with a new enthusiasm I popped the kettle back on and proceeded to see out the final stages of the day. Time passed quickly and I was starting to think that maybe the swim wasn't going to offer anymore prizes. I waited .. and waited some more, just at the point I was thinking of reeling in, I got a savage liner on my right hand rod. I was now perched on the edge of my seat, holding my breath, the universe shrunk around me, it was just me and the rod tip, nothing else mattered. Another small jolt on the tip communicated a single bleep on my alarm. Something was going on, maybe there was a monster just inches from my bait.

Morse Code

  

There was a moment of calm and then all hell broke loose, the rod tip arched around, the clutch kicked in, my bite alarm could barely keep up with the pace of the chaos. I lifted the rod, immediately I was met with a heavy weight, I knew this was a good fish. It raced towards the sunken post but I managed to steer it well clear. However that didn't stop it from pile-driving itself sharp to the right, I was literally hanging on, slowly tightening the clutch as it went. I was managing to slow it down and after a minute or two it started to lose its fire. Now directly in front of me in the open water, I proceeded to edge her closer. A short distance out, there was a massive vortex and I caught a glimpse of a deep colored tail-fin.

Closer and closer she came until she was under the rod tip, I still hadn't got a clear sighting, all the clay in the margin was being kicked up like crazy. I lowered the net into the murk, suddenly it came to the surface and went over on its side to signal defeat. I couldn't quite process what I was witnessing, the fish blew my mind. It was a relatively big common but both its shape and proportions where unbelievable. It was dumpy, short with huge shoulders and I can safely say that I've never caught a carp from Burrows like it before. Once again the water had given me yet another amazing gift, through all the years I've been fishing the place it never ever ceases to amaze me, all the different kinds of carp it keeps hidden. Out of all the waters that I fish Burrows holds a large and unique variety of fish that I just haven't come across anywhere else.

Perfect Proportions

Most know I don't usually bother weighing my fish anymore, I refuse to give such amazing creatures a number. However on this occasion I was intrigued to know what this fish went. Sorting both the scales and sling out, the needle fell to 23IB 8oz, I must admit, I though it might of gone a little bigger, but none of it mattered. Taking pictures of it was challenging because every shot seemed to make the carp look super huge. Due to its shape and build it was tricky to get it in perspective. Once done, she was returned safely, off to become a secret once more. - I just hope whoever catches her in the future takes great care.

 Such An Incredible Carp

It was the perfect way to end the session, it was such an incredible fish and one that I will remember forever. Now with temperatures dropping and the light starting to slip away, I decided I'd pack up and prepare myself to venture off into 'the outside' once again. I'd refueled and refocused enough to deal with whatever it was going to throw at me. I knew it was a temporary visit though, I was already planning my next getaway. Driving home, passing all the strange metal boxes with four wheels attached to them, all us 'metaphorical cogs' were once again on the run, all homeward bound to switch off and rest before heading out to do it all again tomorrow - I will be one of them. The one saving grace though, is, I know that 'the inside' is waiting for me, contained within itself, functioning perfectly without any outside influence, calling for us anglers to make those penultimate casts. It's a world that's only accessible by a chosen few, those of us with a rod in hand and a head full of dreams.

"Here on the inside, outside's so far away"

       

Burrows 'Echoes From The Valley' Part 6

"In this blog, along with the session, I'd like to share my thoughts on bait and baiting application" 

Winter now had a firm stranglehold on the world outside my window, the days were dragging, dull and lethargic. There was a bite in the air that penetrated deep to the bone. I always find this time of the year difficult, I experience a creeping sense of claustrophobia which isn't helped by the fact that, it was during the colder, darker months that I got ill. Even though its been about 6 years 'and counting', I don't believe the memory scars will ever really fade. Mental illness is such a terrible curse and the simplest of things can cause all the bad memories to come flooding back, it's as if I'm forever walking on a tightrope. 

It's really hard to explain, but from September onward until just before Spring, things are always tough. It all just reminds me of the confusion I felt and the hell I went through with both my situation and the NHS. I was dosed up on so much medication that I looked and felt like the walking dead, and the constant visits to the Priory where I had to dissect my thoughts over and over again, were utterly soul destroying. I wish there was a way to erase the part of me that catalogs all these experiences, but there isn't. So I have to try to occupy my mind with other things and create new memories. Thank God For Carp Fishing!

I'd been very busy with work so my angling had somewhat stalled, however, it was never far from my mind. I'd had a fair result up until now but I was starting to think if there was anything else I could do to tempt a few more bites. For some reason I was feeling that a standard boilie approach was almost to obvious. I started to think about both the shapes and sizes of the baits I was presenting. Maybe offering something of a different shape, and slightly smaller than your standard boilie, might just entice the carp into investigating with less apprehension. 

My mind revisited a 'Burrows' winter session from a few years back when I caught an incredible 24IB common on 5 or so boilies and a handful of broken up pellets. It was so cold and the only thing that stopped the water from freezing was the fact the wind was relentless. I threw the bait in by hand into the deep center channel that runs down the middle of the lake. I pictured ominous shadows slowly making their way through the deeper water. By the time the bait had hit the deck, I visualized it landing in a 'non-uniform' fashion. I didn't want it looking like a trap had been set - I wanted it to look as random as possible. Reminiscent of what it must look like when a pleasure angler casually throws his remaining bait, corn, meat, down into the margin at the end of the day before leaving.

5mm Pellet

I saw the pellets as a different form of attraction, firstly, they breakdown fast so there was no chance of the fish getting full up. Secondly, the fine dusting that they leave was more than enough to attract a passing fish. Because there were so few boilies in the swim, I knew I'd created a feeding situation where I'd upped the chances of my hook-bait getting picked up. Taking the extreme conditions into consideration, I felt this was a far more effective approach than just using a handful of bigger baits alone. There have been a number of times in Winter when I've seen fish pass over boilies without so much as a flinch, however, I have seen them drop down on pellet a number of times.

 
I believe that, depending on the time of the year, some fish don't really know if they want to feed or not. I feel it's our job to make them realize they do. This is where I think that careful thought on what you're offering and how you're applying it comes into play. You can often see how this develops when you fish on the surface, sometimes it can take a hell of a lot of effort to get them feeding and competing. On some occasions, it can start off with the odd one just nosing or mouthing the bait, they seem reluctant at first. However, if you're careful with your application, you can slowly get them feeding confidently. I feel that this can be the same when bottom bait fishing.  

  

Caught On A Scattering

What I'm going to explain next is open to interpretation, I'm no expert, I'm just sharing my thoughts, try to bare with me.

My thoughts about bait and its application seem to change on a regular basis, and to be honest, I'll be the first one to admit that on some occasions I'm very anal and over think it all way to much. It has a lot to do with the specific water that I might be fishing at the time, the angling pressure it gets, and how others tend to be tackling it. If I see a specific method being done to death, I'll be very reluctant to mimic it. It's just like rig placement, I see no point in putting my baits where everyone else does. I understand lakes have 'hot-spots', but I'm more inclined to want to find and develop my own. This approach may take a while to work, but with dedication and perseverance it usually comes together. I believe through time, the regular known spots simply dry up and stop producing, I feel the same about certain bait presentations.

Regarding both particles and 'spod' application, I'm not a huge fan, but I will use it if I know it can be effective on the specific venue I'm fishing at the time. I realize that back in the 80's and before, the pioneers were using home-made spods and they worked to great effect. For the first time, the spod allowed anglers to present a different type of bait, hemp, corn, etc at range, a range that it previously couldn't be presented at. I feel because the carp weren't use to seeing that kind of feed out at such distances, they feasted on it without a care in the world. But like most waters, the more a certain approach is adopted, through time, it can end up becoming less effective. I believe the carp start to become cautious and will change both their feeding habits and the locations they choose to feed, if both are under constant pressure.

I'm fully aware that nowadays spodding can work brilliantly on a lot of venues, especially densely stocked commercials where lots of fish are competing for the grub. I also get that if you're doing a long stint where you can get away with the disturbance, then it's the perfect approach to take when initially baiting up your chosen spots. However, I'm not referring to those types of places, I'm talking more about the venues where the carp are spooky, weary and solitary. Both Boreham Mere and Willows on the CAA ticket are perfect examples to use. It's on theses waters that I feel a more refined approach can pay off.

On the venues mentioned above and similar, I don't believe that the bigger residence feel comfortable sitting on a big bed of bait for to long. I think they want a quick bite, something easy, so they can grab it and keep moving. Why is it that some big carp go uncaught for months, sometimes years? are they seeing something that the others aren't. From experience, most of my better fish have come off a small mouthful or a single. I've been frying my neural-pathways trying to figure out why this is, is it because a small food package or single doesn't oppose a threat. Nowadays so much bait goes in all the waters, a single stand alone bait might be something that they just don't come across anymore. Are the 'Kings & Queens' of the waters avoiding the larger areas of bait? 

A Boreham Mere Beauty - Caught On A Single

So.. lets think about this - Do bigger wiser carp recognize certain baiting patterns?  

I think it's safe to say that bait spodded out falls in a pretty random way, a lot depends on the depth you're fishing in and the undertow. However if you're targeting a well known bar or plateau that sees a lot of spod mix, do the carp start to avoid it?. I can use my time on Chase back lake as an example, everyone use to go on about fishing at range. There was a defined bar that you could hit from a number of swims, spods would be flying out to it day and night. I personally never saw a great deal being caught, I decided I was going to approach the water differently. I was going to avoid the visible features, including the bar, and fish short/medium range, mainly in the margins. Those that have read my Chase blogs will know that I had great success doing this with fish up to 30IB.

 Bait Boat Presentation

My second example of an obvious baiting pattern is, that dropped from a bait boat, it can resemble a largish rectangle, usually containing everything a carp could only dream of eating - is that point alone a cause for caution. I believe on waters that allow bait boats, the carp are coming across a very familiar sight. I feel on venues like this, a single or a small mouthful could pay dividends. My final example is solid bags, they leave a very recognizable baiting pattern. It's basically a small roundish pile, on some waters they're so effective, others I can't buy a bite with them. Is this because its a method that's been used a lot in the past so the carp avoid the bait pattern a solid bag tends to leave?  

Most of these questions can't really be answered and there's always exceptions to the rule. But I can't help thinking that there might be some truth to what I've tried to explain. Going back to the more pressured spots, if the carp have the instinct to start avoiding them. Surely the same goes for a certain kind of presentation. To sum up, I think that when a carp continually comes across a certain bait application/presentation a lot, and continues to get caught out. Eventually it will/may steer well clear, meaning that thinking differently in terms of what, and how you're applying your bait, in the long term, could really pay off.

To Obvious On Some Waters?

A Simple 'Unassuming' Single

On the day of the session, I arrived at the water for about 10:30am, the conditions were very similar to my last trip. It was bright and cold and the lake was deserted, having been working a lot over the last few weeks. It felt great to be back out, within minutes I could feel my thoughts untangling. It didn't take long for my 'angling mind' to wake up and I started to feel both excited and inspired. After a great deal of thought, I decided that I was going to fish a small cut down piece of boilie on the hair, topped off with a small piece of white foam. Along with that, I was going to squash a handful of boilies and offer them up as freebies. I unfortunately didn't have any pellets left. Due to this change of approach, I'd have to walk around and apply my bait by hand. I felt that trying to put it out by catapult would've been pointless, I wanted to have the bait presented perfectly on my spot.

Presentation Change

 

Regarding tweaks to my rig, I'd shortened the hook-link to literally a couple of inches and I'd upped the lead size to 3oz. I wanted the carp to feel heavy resistance the second it picked the bait up. As usual I had a nice long hair, 'for separation', which was fished on a size 6 Fang Twister, with a 5.3m rig ring. Some people have asked me why I use such a big ring, I'll explain its purpose at some point in the future. Everything was set up and ready, I wandered around the other side to deposit my freebies. I took about a handful with me, that was more than enough. 

Walking around the deserted lake, branches creaked and snapped under foot. It was desolate, almost eerie, it was hard to picture how busy it tends to get in the height of the summer. Approaching my spot, I crept down, kept low and spread the squashed boilies 'randomly' along the marginal growth. Looking at the area from such a close proximity, I was really surprised just how close in I was getting the bites. It just goes to show that carp will come in close to feed at all times of the year.

Back in my swim with the rods now clipped up, I made the measured casts, both hit the clip with a very satisfying 'PING', my rod tips cushioned the impact beautifully. For some reason my anticipation was sky high, I think this was because I'd put a little more thought into the way I wanted to approach things. I was embracing the feeling when all of a sudden my right rod was away. Slightly stunned, I gently lifted into it, whatever was on the end was darting around like crazy. The tugs were reminiscent of a tench, I suspected that I'd hooked into one of the smaller fish, I didn't care though, a bite is a bite. A short fight saw me slide the net under a pristine little mirror, I had no doubt that he was destine to become a future king. I was very pleased with the quick action.

Welcome Company On An Eerie Day

Slipping the fish back into the crystal clear water, within seconds it morphed out of sight. The rod was once again wrapped and cast back out, 'right on the money'. If I was lucky enough to get another bite, I'd have to take another walk round to add a little more bait. For all I knew the carp I just caught could've eaten most of what I'd put out. With the kettle now on, I sat hunched on my chair, I was feeling the chill, it was all rather 'uninviting'. The colors around me were vivid, it's as if the landscape had been bleached. Winter can be such a strange time, with endless distance both over head and all around me, I still had an ominous feeling of isolation.

Now cupping my hand around a scorching cup off coffee, I paid close attention to the water. The ripples were constantly changing, whatever was happening below the surface was anyone's guess. I started to think about the elements within angling that I love the most. Moving aside the obvious, over the past few months its become apparent that it's the communication. Through rod and line, marker float and braid, we're forever trying to communicate with a world we can't readily see. That's where the art lies for me. Hence why I refuse to use 'new technologies' to bypass the lessons within learning. I fear technology, for me it provides convenience and takes away a great deal of the natural learning process. Why use a dictionary when you can spellcheck? Why write an elegant letter when you can email? Why use a marker float and braid when you can chuck a deeper pro out?.  

All my technological fears where erased as my left rod tore into action, I was on it fast, the fish flew towards me at a crazy pace. I was reeling in the slack like a madman. It was under the tip within minutes, here it decided to wake up, it was tugging and pulling with all its might, the beautiful tip action of my 'Ballistas' cushioned every lunge. All the energy from the fight was passing down the blank and making its way up my forearm. The fish cut the surface, its winter skin looked perfect, implanted within the landscape for a fraction of a moment. Soon enough I was slipping the second prize of the day over my net. It came in the shape of a lovely, plump mid-double mirror.

Draped In Winters Skin

After a few quick photos, back she went, I needed to put some more bait out so I reeled in my right hand rod and took another wander around the other side. Everything seemed to be working out today, I couldn't help but think it was because of the presentation change. Maybe my overblown theories on baiting patterns and application weren't so ridiculous after all. I've been accused in the past of giving the carp far to much credit, but I don't think that's a bad thing. It keeps you thinking, never underestimate anything, overestimation can keep you one step ahead at all times. I scattered another handful of squashed boilies randomly around my spot, time was ticking by now so I was eager to get back to rods and get them straight out.

Back at the swim, the rigs were once again clipped to 12.5 rod lengths, out they went. I was confident that I might be able to tempt another bite, the hours were starting to close the day. There was a drastic temperature drop, and with it came a more defined chop on the water. I decided I'd give it another hour or so, 'I was feeling lucky'. It was too late in the day for a extortionately dangerous dose of caffeine so I got the 'Yorkshire Tea' out, whilst the brewing ceremony was taking place, liners were occurring on both rods. My heart was racing so fast and I was anticipating possible chaos at any second. I just had time to squeeze the remaining 'goodness' within the tea bag into my cup, when, within an instant, the right rod was off. I instantly knew this was a better fish, it careered towards the sunken post. I managed to sway it away, the rod locked tight to the right and the clutch was humming, I had 'synchronicity' in the palm of my hand. 

I was gaining ground, I wasn't going to rush it, if I could get this fish in, then it would be the perfect end to a surprisingly fruitful session. Closer and closer she came, flat spots were appearing as she tried desperately to escape. I lowered the net whilst teasing her ever closer, the mesh engulfed her .. JOB DONE !!. Peering into the net I instantly recognized this fish as a repeat capture, only this time around she was a lot larger. I can't remember exactly when I last met her acquaintance but it was so good to see she was thriving and doing well. Her scales were subtle and perfect looking and her mouth was in really good shape, that's something I always love to see.

An Old Friend

I wished her well and sent her home, maybe we'd meet again a few more years down the line. It was the perfect way to end what I can only describe as a surprisingly productive day. As we know, there's so many variables in carp fishing so it's hard to pinpoint exactly why things happen and why they don't. I'd like to think that the slight change in the way I presented my offering played a part. Before I went home I spread three modest handfuls of bait all around the spot. I had to work the next day but I was thinking that I might come back for literally a few hours in the early morning. I'd be passing the water on the way through to where I was working. 

The next day I got on to the water for 6:30am and within an hour of having my rods out I managed another lovely looking heavy plated mirror carp. It looked like the little brother of the one I had a few sessions back. It goes without saying that I went to work that day with a head full of fish. It's a great feeling, the water is always waiting for you. However hard life gets and however much the system grinds you down, it can never take the water away from the angler. I was looking forward to my next trip.

An Early Morning Jewel

    

  

   

   

            

Burrows 'Echoes From The Valley' Part 5

In this post I'm not going to go into too much detail about my bait, rigs and location, all this was covered in part one. For those that may not have read it, you can check it out here - Winter Series Part One 

Weeks had past since my last trip, during this time my thoughts about how I wanted to fish the next few months had firmly rooted. I was walking around like a man obsessed, I wanted to cast out so badly, I had trigger happy hands. Any slight sound that was similar to a bite alarm had me on high alert, I swear I ended up striking my phone at least twice when it rang. When the opportunity to get out came around, I was like a kid in a candy store. All the preparation had been done, fresh rigs had been tied, rods and reels had been cleaned meticulously, and both my baits had been soaked up to the eye balls in glug. The sweet aroma of both the Banana Cream & Honey Nectar had been flooding my flat with smells that instantly reminded me of the past. In the summer fish-meals give me flash backs, in Autumn and Winter, Milk Proteins remind me of the cold nights I spent in my bivvy years ago, out in all weathers, pacifying this new obsession that I'd found in carp fishing, and angling as a whole.

I have such fond memories of 'the boilie', I'd spend hours on end in my local tackle shop smelling all these bags of 'strange little marble sized' carp sweets. The colors, the packaging, and the way all the different flavors would hit you as you walked in. Those were great times and I have to say that when Crowborough tackle finally closed its doors. It left a gaping hole in a lot of our 'local' lives. As I sit and type these words I can almost taste Richworths 'Hawaiian Pineapple', Starmers 'Garlic Mint', Nutrabaits 'Cream Cajouser' and, of course, the formidable Tropicanna Gold by Kevin Maddocks - along with many more. I remember rolling my own baits on a Solar sweet birdseed base-mix, The Quench, Wild Strawberry and The Caramel were the first flavors that I used, they all caught me a lot of fish. My baits weren't formulated very well, they were odd shapes and had a tendency to split, but they worked. We've all got to start somewhere when it comes to bait and it played a memorable part in my carp fishing history. Along with the baits I used, I flash back to the places I once fished.

Rod Hutchison Apotheosis 'Two Man'

 

Before I past my driving test I was pretty much a prisoner of the town I grew up in, "in more ways than one". I was very lucky though, because in and around Crowborough, East Sussex, there were a lot of waters in close proximity to each other. At times my parents would drop me off, other times I'd struggle with the little tackle I had, peddling like crazy on my bike. Determined to get my 'fishing fix' before the sun went down. It was a race against time, a race to catch up on all the fishing I'd missed, having not discovered it earlier in my life. My world was the water, the roads that took me to them, and of course the mythical fish that were residing in their depths. Once I left school I continued playing drums by night to earn my living and spent most of my days down by the waters edge waiting and anticipation.

Once driving, a whole new world opened up for me and that's when the night fishing took hold. I saved my pennies to purchase my first Bivvy, the Rod Hutchison Apotheosis, '2 man'. This was terrible compared to todays standards but it kept me and my mates safe and dry whilst we slept under the stars. There were around 9 of us that were fishing all the same waters at the same time. We ended up fishing together a lot, all the Crowborough Angling Club lakes became our second homes. Tanyards, Pippingford Park, Bunny Lane, the list went on, and if we weren't fishing together, we nearly always bumped into each other whilst traveling between waters. I have memories of endless summers pitched up on the bank, cook outs, beer that was kept in bags resting in the margins to keep them cool, and hour long conversations about the big mirrors and commons we'd all seen but never caught.

Locked In Time

One memory that always resurfaces is the night that all of us literally slept on top of each other in my bivvy. We'd been telling ghost stories and no one wanted to sleep on their own. The one tale that put the fear of god up all of us, was the story of a girl called Alice Bright. Apparently she committed suicide by jumping of a railway bridge, a road was named after her. It just so happened that the water we were doing the nights on was down the very bottom of Alice Bright Lane and the railway bridge was overlooking the lake, 'I kid you not'. It was a local legend that we'd all heard about at school and it had imprinted itself on all of our minds. We never witnessed anything whilst we were fishing but it was always eerie every time the sun went down. The railway bridge and its arches would stand like rigid archetypes under the light of the moon. You semi expected to see the ghostly figure of Alice making her way along the tracks at the top of the bridge, or even worse, along the other side of the lake.

All these memories will never be forgotten and each one of them has become a cross-thread that runs through me, and has contributed to making me the angler I am today. Nowadays, when I find myself losing sight of things due to how commercial carp fishing has now become. I take a moment to reflect and look back, it doesn't take me long to feel inspired again. I do often wonder what my old fishing companions are doing now. Did they carry on fishing? Do they find themselves thinking back to those times? I get the feeling that maybe I was the only one that continued the journey. Circumstances change, people change and the older we get, life and the mundane of the 'everyday' has a tendency to take over. There have been periods in my life where my angling was almost lost, destine to die a slow death in the clutches of 'responsibility'. But there was no way I was going to let that happen, there was far too much to lose. There are still so many waters yet to explore, countless secrets yet to be unearthed, and of course many memories yet to be written. The great thing now, is that I can share them in a 'digital' form with all those who choose to read them.

So with a head full of memories and a gut wrenching calling to get the rods out, I packed the van and headed off down Burrows to continue with my master plan. It was one of those cold bright winter days where everything had needle point clarity. The blue skies above appeared panoramic and each breath I took felt like my lungs were being cleansed of all the poisons that I 'unknowingly' inhale due to living in the city. My last session had been a very successful one, considering I had to change my plan at the final moment. However, today I really wanted to get back on track and start to properly target my secret spot. 

Driving 'full-pelt' down the motorway, my mind was racing, the journey flew by and as I pulled up into the clubs car park, it was deserted ... result? I loaded my barrow quickly and made my way down the path towards the water. It was looking perfect, stumbling through the mud and clay, I got to my 'self made swim' and proceeded to get everything setup with precision. The rods were already rigged up so I wrapped them to 12.5 rod lengths, slipped the baits onto both hairs and made the measured casts. I wanted to get them both 'spot on' straightaway, the plan was to keep any disturbance to a minimum. Stealth fishing was the key, today I was going to continue to really try and master 'silence', Winter is the perfect time of the year to practice this with the banks being so quiet. 

The Skeleton Of Trees

 

I have a firm belief that when carp don't know they're being fished for, they have a tendency to act in more of a natural way. Through the years I've seen so many examples on lots of different waters to back this belief up, I'll use the main lake at Hoo as my reference point. I'm currently putting a block of time in on this water and I'm having good results, I'm fishing it during the week when it's empty, only short afternoon sessions. The lake is very pressured and most weekends it will be rammed with anglers, you've got the spods flying, endless casting and lines suspended through the water at all angles. Occasionally on Sundays, I go down to Hoo to fish 'a relatively ignored' water called 'The Cut', I have to walk past main lake to get to it. More times than I can remember I've talked to anglers that have been down there for 12 hours, sometimes more, and they haven't had a fish. Along with that, they haven't even had a liner, let alone seen any jump. 

I usually finish my sessions on 'The Cut' late evening, by this time all the weekend anglers have gone home. The water is once again empty and it's peaceful and quiet, I'll always stop for about half hour to watch. I nearly always see carp activity, vortexes, flat spots and more times than not, fish jumping. I believe that when lots of leads start hitting that water the carp retreat to the reeds and don't really venture out until they feel it's safe to do so. All the sessions I've done recently on main lake - 'which will be written up in the months to come', have been successful because, I 'very quietly' make my way onto the water and wait until the fish give their location away. Once I've spotted where they are I'll fish for them, I'll make one cast and then sit back, watch, wait and remain as quiet as possible. It really has been as straightforward as that, mastering 'silence' is a skill and it's there for everyone to practice, I believe it can be the difference between blanking and catching.

Back To The Session 

Both baits kissed the clips perfectly, I was more than happy with where they landed. Freebies were then deposited tightly around the area, bobbins were hung, the alarms switched on, now it was time to engage in the most important bank-side activity of all ... getting the coffee on. Sitting back with the kettle creaking, the only sound, my Coleman gas cylinder battling desperately to bring my first brew to the boil. It, all of a sudden struck me just how still the environment was, the waters surface was like a sheet of glass, no bird-life was active, not one single branch was twitching on the trees around me. It was as if I'd unknowingly installed myself into a 'still-life' portrait, stranger still, I suddenly had this foreboding feeling of just how minuscule I was in the scheme of things. Inside our heads both our world and who we share it with seem so large, but the truth is, us as humans are barely a 'pinprick' on the surface of the universe - I really need to stop my thoughts running away from me!

Now with the steam from the kettle fogging the crystal clear landscape, I poured the boiling water onto my 'Colombians' finest. The sweet aroma of a thousand and one coffee beans infused itself into the air around me. Now it was the waiting game, sitting still and watching the water closely, there were no signs of carp anywhere. This is when you really have to stay confident in your approach, thinking back to some of the previous winters, I've learned that bites literally come out of the blue. There can be no indication whatsoever that the fish are in your vicinity. As the hours past, the temperature felt as if it was dropping. To try and warm myself up, I visualized the banks in bloom, in the height of the summer when the water is a deep emerald green and you can paddle in the margins barefoot, those times felt like a world away.

A Different World

          

A short, sharp liner suddenly drew my attention to my right-hand rod, all visualization stopped and I was very much 'in the moment'. My eyes now firmly on the rod tip, I registered a tiny jolt that didn't indicate on the alarm. It was clear that something was occurring, sitting there literally holding my breath, I was anticipating a bite, within seconds it was away. The rod tip tore round to the right and the clutch kicked in, I was on it fast. As expected the fish made a beeline towards the underwater post, I managed to steer her back my way. I kept the pressure on until I was out of danger. Now in the open water, it pulled slowly from left to right, and back again. I didn't want to curse the situation but it felt like a pretty heavy lump. I was slowly making head way and now with the fish about a rods length from the bank, I was starting to get nervous. I was dying to catch just a small glimpse of my winter prize.

As the fish tired, its back cut the waters skin, I was met with big plated scales that instantly reflected off the sun. It was very clear that I'd managed to catch yet another one of Burrows special secrets, 'it's the water that just keeps on giving'. It was a big heavy plated mirror that encapsulated what I can only describe as 'perfection'. I gently slipped the mesh under her and took a huge sigh of relief, peering down into the net, I couldn't quite believe what I was looking at. This had to be one of the best looking mirrors that I'd ever managed to catch, its winter skin morphed into the colors of the landscape perfectly, each scale, literally shimmering under the low winter sun.

Perfectly Plated 

After a few photos and a salute farewell, I found myself feeling both honored and inspired, that's one of the many beauties of carp angling, you never know what could happen at any given moment. From a lake that looked as desolate as you could get, one of the more unique residence decided to reveal itself. As time has gone by, I've learned to appreciate every single fish that I catch, if it's big then that's a bonus. If it's small then I know I've made contact with a future king, kings that will eventually grow on to be the next generations myths. I just hope that, not only the carp, but all species of fish are always given the respect that they deserve. 

With the sun starting to yawn over the horizon and with temperatures dropping, I decided to call it a day, I had to be up early for work so staying after dark wasn't an option. I was more than happy with the result, these winter sessions are a marathon, not a sprint,  they're going to be a long, slow process. As originally stated at the very start of this series of blogs. I'm anticipating that if I keep the bait going in, stick to both the spot and the approach, my catch rate could well improve, we'll have to wait and see.