Naughty North Lake

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Sometimes its just about being there.............................

I first heard that saying years ago when my Dads friend used to take me down to the Thames at Sonning to drown some maggots, and sometimes pluck out the odd roach and perch, its funny, but when I think back now I used to go fishing in all weathers, with the minimum protection and waterproofs that leaked more than Tottenhams defence.......... Here is a little tale of a fishing trip that changed my opinion on whats important.

Since becoming a baliff on the Yateley Complex, I have been lucky enough to fish the historic North Lake as often as I want, and since it became day ticket this meant I was making a hell of a saving getting my fishing for free, in return for keeping the place nice and tidy and keeping the riff raff away!

I had decided to target 2 spots this winter, one was a snaggy bay that the carp always seem to get into, and the 2nd was the narrow entrance to this bay that obviously any fish coming in and out would have to pass through. Both spots were light silt and probably about a square metre, so tight baiting was the key, I would visit the lake before and after work some days to trickle the bait in and hopefully gain the fish's trust before my planned assault in November!

I had a few fish off these spots throughout November and early December, up to mid 20's, I just could not seem to trap one of the lakes larger residents but I knew my time would come, this kind of brings up up to date, despite one very productive day session on a private gravel pit I was to give the North another bash, this time I was on a mission, one of the big girls was mine!!

I arrived and set the rods on the spots, sat back and took it all in, the sun was high in the winter sky it was -3 but the lake looked alive, it almost like a spring day, bar the ice and frost of course, I knocked up a cuppa and sipped it slowly, the sweet tea always tastes better when made outside doesn't it? The hanger on the left hand rod rose and dropped, a classic line bite, my confidence went through the roof, the North Lake is a tough lake at the best of times, but this was winter, -3 and bloody cold!

The sceney was amazing, icicles hanging off the trees, the frosty long grass behind my swim looked mesmarising and I had to take a few photos, a robin came and sat on my rod and I returned the favour by tossing him a few maggots from my bucket, he duly gobbled these down with the usual caution, turning to ensure I didnt have my camera ready after every mouthful of wrigglies! I tried to get a photo but Robin was having none of it, ah well 'good luck this winter' I muttered as he fluttered off to find his next meal. A few hours had passed and I sat, watched and fully appreciated the surroundings, as the hours ticked by the sun got higher and all around me the lake seemed to be melting, the trees, the grass, everything seemed to be melting, it was eerily quiet, the sound of dripping water was the only noise, that was until one of my bite alarms gave out the battle cry every angler dreams of, FISH ON!!!!!

The clutch was melting and this was despite me having tightened it right up to stop the fish entering the bay, it was not going to plan and I had to do something and quick. I sunk the rod deep and heaved, the fish had to turn or I was going to lose it before the battle had even begun, my heart was on the verge of crashing through my chest, I needed to land this fish, I just knew it was a biggun by the way it was fighting, it was playing me and it needed to be the other way around! I heaved with all my might, I wa starting to win, this could be the one I wanted the fish turned and shot past me in the deep margins, I could see it was a common around the 30lb mark and I had to land this fish, now the fish was heading to open water and eased off the pressure and loosened the clutch, the fish turned and then it happened, all of the excitement, the apprehension drained out of me in an instance, the hook had pulled.

I stopped, wound furiously on the reel in case the fish had swum towards me, the rig leapt from the water, it was over, I had lost.

I dropped the rod and sat on the floor, in the mud, in the freezing, wet, sticky, horrible mud. I didnt care, I had just lost the fish I wanted more than any, I was gutted.

I put the kettle on, sat and watched the lake, I could almost hear them laughing at me, I tried to convince myself that the fish was not all that big, but deep down in my heart of hearts I knew there was now a 30lb+ common swimming round with a sore lip.

I stopped, stood up and looked around, the lake looked stunning, how could something so beautiful be so cruel? I rolled off a few more photos and some were so good I am going to get them framed and mounted, as I made my way back to the car, what else could I think?

Sometimes its just about being there...................