WITH weary limbs and a sunburnt forehead I was grateful I didn’t have to journey home that evening – after a fish and chip supper I turned in for the night with more fishing still to come.
The Hampshire Avon would be my first port of call this morning, a stretch I hadn’t fished for a decade.
With the river running clear, the best approach seemed to be a float rod and a pouchful of maggots to trip up a few chub as I wandered the banks. However, a schoolboy error saw me fail to reckon with dew-sodden grass, and my unsuitable footwear soon saw me soaked from the knees down!
A quick change of socks and a pair of wellies later I was enjoying everything the water meadows had to offer. Butterflies, birds, and fry in the carrier streams vied for my attention with chub drifting over gravel beds.
I rigged up a large Loafer float on 4lb line, with a size 18 Super Spade hook to cope with the weed. Five minutes of free food later the carbon was buckling under my grip – another day in the great British countryside, and there was no place I would rather be.