Back to the lake for a short session and with the feeding times mainly early morning I wasn't in any rush to get my rods out.
I stopped off in the first few swim to have a few beers with the birthday boy chris and rob before heading round to set up, a few hours past and beers went down lovely and was time to let the guys get some sleep so I dumped my gear in the swim and had a walk around to find most people fast asleep.
I got round the other side of the lake to find my mate nick asleep under the stars, crazy bugger I thought so I woke him up and cracked open the beers.
3am - time to leave :)
I headed back to my swim and really couldn't be assed to set my bivvy up so I thought I would just brave it and sleep under the starts too - which I found out a 6am was a bad idea.
6am came and with the last 2 hours of it pissing it down I looked like a drowned rat. the bivvy went up sharpish and got a few hours of sleep.
After missing bite time I thought I had a good chance mid afternoon towards one of the corners where I know the fish head mid day so out went a stiff hinged rig with a 15mm white choc pop up on into about 12ft of water.
I knew it wasn't going to take long before it took off with the odd few fish showing over the area 25mins it took before this crazy 22lb mirror was on the bank.
with missing bite time early sat morning I wasn't going to miss it again so I rested the swim for a wile and with only 1kg of bait with me of nash monster squid red I baited a spot I like with the 15mms and waited for the sun to go down before I put my rods back out.
bang on time 5am came with a one toner - I opted to use a snowman style rig over all the freebies on a nice silt patch. they do love a bit of monster squid in this lake and another 30lb+ was on the bank again.
Choose life. Choose a lake. Choose a swim. Choose a bait. Choose a rig. Choose sleepless nights under the stars. Choose the nocturnal music of branches creaking in the wind, leaves whispering, and the eerie night-calls of owls and wildfowl. Choose bright moons shattered in the rippling surface of lakes, and purple skies at sunset perfectly mirrored. Choose silent mist-shrouded pools at dawn. Choose visions of white-flowering waterlilies turning green-gold in the half-light. Choose the flashing bronze flanks of carp, twisting below the surface, on the edge of visibility. Choose a heightened heart-rate. Choose an emotional rollercoaster. Choose the psychological assault-course of planning, watching, locating, preparing, casting and waiting. Choose the endless hours of strung-out anticipation. Choose the rush of striking, hooking, fighting, and landing (or losing) the fish. Choose to walk the tightrope between desperate failure and the adrenaline-inducing, life-enhancing triumphant high of success. Choose life. Choose obsession. Choose Carp Fishing.
"Greg Freestone, Carpspotting 2011"