'Time flies by' are a couple of words i utter frequently.. the Autumn passed by in the blink of an eye.

October
The sense of anticipation quickly changed to a mixed charge of different emotions as we passed through the gates of the Wyreside complex. I had been thinking of nothing else for a week, with the chance to spend a couple of nights on a place that is deeply embedded in my heart.. had me buzzin'.
A warm welcoming handshake from Bob, and a quick rundown on lifes events since my last visit, saw Tommy and myself heading for for the pond. A quick walk round and a chat with a couple of guys that were in fancied swims had us back at the car park dwelling on where we should pitch. Tommy opted for a car park swim which had small patches of weed to it's left, i ventured to the far end which has a bit more depth and a lot more features beneath the surface. It was noticeable how little weed there seemed to be in the lake in comparison to yesteryear. Just after dinnertime, Tommy had a take from the weedbeds and landed a clonking 30lb mirror. First time back on the place in over a decade and lands a peach of a fish on the first day. The first evening past by with out a show up my end of the lake. On the second evening the fish came round a corner of the island, pushing out to the wrist ofthere tails and falling back sending large silver ripples on the black surface in the twighlight. Dusk turned into inky black, and in the dark i stood with Jacko and watched fish tipping out over the bait for over an hour.. As Jacko made he way back to he's swim he said 'give us a shout when you get one' it's a cert.
I was brewing in the dark two hours before daybreak and the odd fish was still rolling periodically over the bait.. How many then? f*ck all. Done my f*ckin head in, they showed all night and into the hot hour... Zilch!!
I begrudgingly packed away at lunchtime and then mentally dissected the show and no action to my rods for a few days and beyond.. Conclusion: After recounting the tale to a few lads that have been on there for a few seasons... this now the norm, hard to accept for me but i will take it as an excuse.
As i said, the Autumn whizzed by.. the firm i work for has expanded rapidly and a move to new premises along with countless long jobs out of the region, i accepted that i wasn't even going to get down the Park for a few hours. I put away the uneasiness and bad temper i had been carrying around because i couldn't find time, and let it go. For the odd night and day session i could only look at the festive holidays.

Two weeks off.. and the freeze hit the North West.

New Year
January2nd 08
I arrived at Wyreside with the view to fish one of the waters that is productive in the Winter, and holds a good head of twenty pound plus fish and a scattering of thirties. I had seen the weather front heading for England, Siberian winds with a wind chill factor of minus six.. Yeah i'll have a bit of that, least there should be a lot of vacant swims. I downed the hill and clocked a few bivvies dotted around, kinnell. I passed a good swim and carried on to the next lake.. empty. The Winter thirty entered my head and i turned round and settled for the empty swim on number one. Allright mate? the guy next door had been there from the following day and informed me that a couple of fish had been out during the night.. it will do for me.
A couple of hours passed by, then the two guys opposite began the largest full scale assault of a lake with a marker rod i had ever witnessed. I shouted over to them how deep it was a foot to the right of my hookbait before the float rose to the surface.. 'Scouse Barry' next door, wasn't happy, i wasn't happy and neither was the Pike guy further down. The Marker twins continued to f*ck up the whole lake until i started to march round.. then i stopped as i got to the bund that splits one and two. I stood and stared at the flat spot out in the ripple on two, then a head popped out and pirouetted as it went down. I ran back to the gear and threw it in the motor.
This is more like it, 14 acres of water to yourself and i had seen a fish. As the afternoon went by the wind increased from a moderate to fresh, and the biting to raw flesh came with it. I had miscalculated my casts, and as dusk fell a couple of fish popped out beyond my baits. In the dark i recieved a text.. You are either hard as nails or simply daft. The wind became one of those that are dreaded.. 'East' begins with a 'B' up here' words that stuck in my mind and had visited me on numerous occasions over the years. It roared through the trees from behind, and i willed it to get stronger to trash the Marker twins that were facing it on the lake next door. I smiled as i poked my eyes out of the bag and watched nature battering everything into it's final submission. I woke to a flat calm and the stars shining and flickering to a strange silence.. the net was white, the unhooking mat shone.. whooh! i'm not even thinkin of having a p*ss.
Experienced minds and all that? how many times have i ran out of the bag without anything on my feet? I pumped the fish unrelentlessly all the way back over a hundred yards all the time trying to get my boots on my feet arrgh! it was painfull.
It rolled in the net and slid on the hooking mat and almost back into the water with out me even seeing it.. allright, i was hurting. The pain in my hands and feet are hard to describe so i will put it in one word.. Agony. I didn't weigh it, it was a lovely looking mirror of around 12lb. I was really happy when i was back in the bag with the kettle on.
I warmed myself up then got back out and recast.
I woke peering through a slit hole in the bag and recounted the events of the early hours over a brew that boiled as i stayed hidden in the warmth. Daylight broke with grey glouds with a pink glow hanging of there bellies. F*ck me it's snowing. I dashed out for lag and as i kicked off the boots to get back in the bag the right hand rod 'toned' Yeah, i was stood with no boots on again playing a fish. I walked backwards and sat down pushing the boots neatly on my feet as i pumped the fish back. The snow became heavy as i neared the fish to the margin, yeah man this is what you dream about, playing fish in a snow storm.
Paul was on brekkie deliveries and had to dip my net that was frozen solid to the deck. Beautiful, large scaled mirror 16lb 3oz. The cold slowly gave way to a glow inside that let me know why i do these things.


Happy New Year.. and may you all land the one you want.

Nicely put Tudge and about time your writing for us again..

Getting the practice in early too i see ...

Bet its was fcuking freezing up there ..

Remember that night in october well.....!

Really did think it was a dead cert...

Spellbound with your adventures Mr,you really do know how to put the reader on the bank with you mate!Damn good angling "HARDCORE STYLEY"

p.s. you have a pm matey

Inspiring stuff more please

Absolutely superb reads, this and "The Triangle."
Why the mags aren't publishing this sort of thing is beyond me... When's the book out?

Unfortunately all the magazines think basic 'how to do it' articles attract more magazine buyers than more in-depth material....

The older Carpworlds/Carp Fisher magazines do make the current crop of pulp look somewhat boring, unimaginative and oh so predictable....

The old BC mags were great too, Paul.

To serialise these 2 blogs in mags would not do them justice. They belong in a book, all the way. Simply superb.

Absolutely agree with that,fantastic reading each time Tudge decides to type his adventures,TOP QUALITY MATE!!!!!

Very good indeed, on the minor topic, the other week I grabbed a Carpworld out of the pile (all very random) and sat and read Blackwater Part 2. Well it made me think.....What the hell has happened to the mag since 1998????(era). I have plenty of time for ads and promotions as these pay bills and wages, but the writing quality has severly decilned. Very good to read these accounts though.