Monday 23rd of November dawned cold and frosty. Not that I actually SAW the dawn…I didn’t get up until 9am as I’d been up working on yesterday’s blog until fairly late. A few errands to run, a quick lunch and it was 2pm before I reached the River Dee at Sandy Lane, Chester.[wpgmza id=”13″] The Bouncing Chub Marks The Spot.
That’s as close as I came to seeing a fish. I know they’re there, I caught about 200 of them a few weeks ago during a busy small fish session. But, today, nothing. No bites, no rises, the fish didn’t want to know in the hour and a half I had. Now, the water was bitterly cold and of course the river further up is still in flood so the question has to be “Why did I even bother?” A very good question, one that I have no answer for because I’m a bit thick.
Last time I was at this venue I mixed some lovely sweet river groundbait with Sandy Lane’s exquisite Mole Hill Mix. This location has some wonderful molehills and they make a deadly addition to ground bait. So, guess who forgot the Lovely Sweet River Ground Bait today? Raw Undiluted Mole Hill wasn’t going to attract too many sweet toothed fish. Oh well, lesson learned, but will I even remember that I’ve learned my lesson next time I go fishing? One day I’m going to forget my ROD BAG, not that that would have made any difference today. Here’s a River Dee at Sandy Lane Mole Hill:
It’s not quite the same as a photograph of a specimen chub or a net full of dace but I did not catch a specimen chub or a net full of dace, did I? I could have dangled a worm in the mole hill. I would have had more chance of catching my specimen chub that way. But knowing my luck a mole would have grabbed my worm and I’d be struggling trying to unhook it gently (ALWAYS use barbless hooks when Mole Angling) and two little girls feeding the ducks with their mummy would have seen the commotion and the little girls would start crying and pointing at me like they would if I had been eating the mole alive and then more people would show up, shocked at what they saw and soon I’d be surrounded by a crowd screaming blue murder at the Cruel Mole Torturer and I would be in massive trouble once the police arrived and they found out that although I had a valid Fishing Licence my Mole Licence had expired weeks ago. So, dangling a worm in the mole hill was definitely “Out.” I’d learned another valuable lesson so all in all it was a productive blank short fishing session.
The work boat was out pulling huge lumps of tree debris brought down from the floods. I thought it was pretty cool, the boat captain knows his stuff.
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