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Winter on the way
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With the savage weather front that hit the South of England in late october it was clear that winter was fast approaching. On the night in question I was heading off fishing and as usual I left my house after the traffic and made my way around the busy M25. As I had left my home the weather wasn't too bad, the temperature in my car was telling me it was eight degrees outside and although it was raining steadily I fancied my chances of a bite wherever I ended up. You see I hadn't actually decided where to go - having so many good waters at my disposal sometimes makes it difficult to know where to head.
First off, I decided to go and look at the Horton complex, but that was very busy so it was back in the car and on towards Yately and its many lakes. I rang my friend, Bidders, who is one of the complex head baliffs to see how busy it was and he informed me he was fishing on the match lake so I arranged to drop in for a cuppa before making my decision. Soon after leaving Horton the weather really deteriorated and the temperature dropped to just two degrees. If this wasn't enough, the rain had turned to sleet and as I neared the M3, to snow! As if this wasn't enough, thunder and lightning was also thrown into the mix. Needless to say the traffic ground to a halt and the normal twenty five minute journey took nearer an hour and a half! Eventually I found Bidders on the match huddled under his brolly with the burner on full and soon he'd made me a very welcome cuppa while we discussed my options. I eventually decided to drop on Sandhurst lake next door, as the roads were still solid with traffic. Wishing Bidders good luck I set off down the now white path and drove round to the far end of Sandhurst to where some fish had been seen over the previous few days. Soon I had the bivvy up and the kettle on while the blizzard continued unabated outside and I slowly set about getting a couple of rods ready to cast. Having fished the swim once before I knew roughly where I wanted to cast and soon had two rods out to a silty gulley where I knew the fish held up in cold weather. In fact, the previous January I'd caught a lovely thirty pounder from the same area, the venue's first of the year. By ten in the evening the snow had settled quite heavily and even the rods had a good covering. The temperature had by now dropped to freezing and I had the door zipped right up, with just a small letterbox gap at the top through which I peered out into the darkness. Off to my right was a road and I sat mesmerised watching the snow falling in the reflection of the streetlights, while I sat sipping hot tea in my lovely warm Aqua M3 bivvy out of the elements. As I watched, the maddest thing happened. Just to my right, barely thirty yards out, a big fish rolled exactly in line with one of the lights. Given the conditions, I honestly couldn't believe it . There was no mistaking it though, when a short while later, I heard another fish roll and looked out to see the rings in roughly the same area, so I donned a coat and darted out to cast a bait to it. The lead landed hard bang on the spot, so I sunk the line and clipped on the bobbin before diving back under cover shaking uncontrollably from the savage cold. I sat listening to the radio for a while before climbing into the bag and before long the muffled drumming of the heavy snow on the bivvy lulled me to sleep.
I wasnt asleep long, when a few bleeps on the remote box by my bed woke me and I got up to look out and see what was happening. The rod I'd cast down to the right was bent right round so I got my boots and coat on and went out to investigate. On picking up the rod it was clear that something was on the other end and for a while it came in easily. However, it soon became clear it was a carp as it took off to the left under my other lines and took a fair amount of line with the sk3 at full curve. By the time I managed to net it, I could no longer feel my hands and before I sorted out the fish I dived back into the bivvy to warm them up. They were so numb I couldn't even light the burner for a while so I shoved them into the sleeping bag until I started to get some feeling back. Eventually, I managed to weigh the fish; a common of twenty-eight pounds and most welcome, given the outrageous conditions. It was in fact the first fish caught for quite a while so I returned to bed happy with the result. The following morning I woke to a frozen bivvy. In fact, before I could get out, I had to boil the kettle to defrost the zips which were frozen solid! The lake was steaming when I eventually got out and all the lines were frozen solid to the rings. It had been a truly bizarre night. It wasn't over though, as when I went to start my car it was dead. Later that morning a recovery truck arrived to sort me out and I was expecting a trip home in the lorry with the car on the back, but thankfully it started in the end and I drove home reflecting on a truly crazy night's fishing.
