It's been a good few weeks since we were last up at Foxhouses and today was a return with match organiser Mick Marsh and the chaps from Brig AC. When I got there, Capts Strap-On, Cock & Birsdeye were already there, with the Adder, Mick and the Giblet - a proper hard-core Lostock turn-out.
It was very overcast and the wind was swirling in a particularly nasty manner. After watching Rob trouser a tenner from the footy card, we drew and I was in the one place I was praying not to be - facing the near hurricane gusts from the NW on the far side of the lake. I got over there and as soon as I put my box down, I knew it was going to be proper hard work. With trees on three sides and a big open space behind me, I was in the teeth of it - no escape. My limit was 9m, beyond that was unfishable. I cupped in a bit of stuff and made a start. Within a few minutes, both pole rollers were over, then my top kits blew clean off my roost. Time for a radical rethink...
I was in a stinking mood and after 45 minutes I was on the point of chucking it in & going home. I lifted into a half-bite and found myself watching black hydro streaming out - carp on Bridgey!!! That was a first - banded pellet, too. I fed again and was soon into a roach around 12oz. Not long afterwards a tench fell to the same trick so all wasn't lost after all. The fish were there, but wouldn't settle into anything remotely like a consistent pattern. You'd get a couple on caster, then a fish on corn then nowt. Change to pellet and get another one, then another wait before getting fish on worm or maggot - or both...
Midway through the match I hooked summat big, which (without any noticable hesitation) just powered off down the lake to my right. The elastic bottomed out and the pole started following the fish - quickly. My peg was right next to a tree and (presumably when it was planted) a timber stake had been driven into the bank to keep it vertical. I was on the point of having to let go of the pole to prevent it hitting the stake when the hook parted and the whole lot recoiled back towards me. I dunno whether I was miffed 'cos the fish got off or relieved 'cos my pole was still in one piece...
There were only seven anglers on our half of the lake and from what I'd seen, there only seemed to be the Adder and Jonny-one netting owt. Of course, it's difficult to tell what everyone is doing and it was more difficult than normal because all I could hear was the wind in my face; even the radio in my earphones was being drowned out. Adder had been bagging early doors, but that had tailed off from what little activity I'd seen. Capt. Cock was across from me at the end of the spit and also seemed to be struggling. I kept pinching the odd fish, including a very nice looking chub and a cracking billy (followed by it's smaller relative) and the tench kept putting in the odd appearance here and there all through the match.
Come the all-out, I knew I'd done better than I thought I would at the start, but didn't know how the rest had done. The scales came round and the weigh-in was done in kilos - my net totalling 7.600 (16lb 8oz), which was a pleasant surprise. The few weights I heard were Jonny-one with 7.800kg, the Adder with 8kg and Capt. Strap-on with 9.1kg (2nd place). Mick Marsh sneaked 3rd with 9kg meaning Adder was first misser.
We had a good chuck on a good water with a great set of lads. Hopefully, we'll get the chance again soon.
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