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In reply to Post #61
The easterly wind blew across the fields driving the sleet towards us we were huddled together under the old hedge it gave us some protection but the sleet still stung our faces i pulled my coat around me and sat in the ditch on some plastic sheeting there were four of us today spread out in the ditch behind this big hedge we were waiting for the geese to come into roost on the quarry pool like we had done for many years but the conditions were bad at times you could not see as the wind brought the sleet towards us thick and fast the farmer stopped to chat as he made his way to check on his sheep further up the field he had the protection of his cab on the tractor by gum its cold Pete he says are you going to stay in this weather yes john, they have to arrive at some stage in the day, as i took a sip of warm coffee from my flask we heard the unmistakable call of the wild geese somewhere far away they were stirring graham and i really needed a couple as i had promised some friends i would get them one for Christmas which was still a few weeks away Tom and tony were both above graham and myself further along the hedge so we had got it well covered the farmer left us in piece and went to check his sheep.
My dog SAM was huddled up between graham and myself at times he shook with excitement he knew why he was there he had done this many times before the wind and sleet stung our hands and faces so i slipped my gloves on and pulled my hat well down over my ears once again we heard the call of the geese i looked above the hedge and spotted a big skein coming our way it was a mixture of grey lags and canada's i gave the signal to the others and shouted don't shoot the forward birds only the birds behind by this time SAM was standing and shivering with anticipation i looked at graham his thumb resting on the safty catch of the gun then they were over us up with my gun i pulled througt the bird down he came hitting the ground with a thump sam was gone and back with in seconds with a lovely grey lag in his mouth they were gone i watched them circle and disapear onto the quarry pool graham had shot two so i sent sam to pick them up two canadas but it will do tom and tony had another three six in all we would usualy call it a day but we wanted at least another three or four as we ha promised a few to freinds a goose or two.
The sleet still lashed our faces but we did not have to wait long as you could hear the call of the geese coming towards us as i looked over the hedge you could see them in the distance they looked like ghosts drifting on the wind but it would not be long before they would be over us and gone i took my shots well and shot a right and left graham also had one down sam was away and back whithen minutes dropping one then two at my feet then went to fetch grahams but tony dog had already picked it i did not see what tony and tom had shot but as they came towards us i could see they had done well we lay them out side by side 13 was the total thats it for today ill go and get the car and put them in the boot we can sort them out latter we pulled into the old car park and sorted the birds out then made our way home cold but happy this is a true story we have stood behind that hedge many times since but not in the conditions we experienced that day it was cold wet and windy blowing a gail the east wind felt more like ice but we enjoyed the experience as i made for home i called in at the farm and dropped one for the farmer a way of saying thank you. well that it for now more latter
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In reply to Post #60
I can remember using that old fixed spool reel as i said i can still see the colour it was green i used it for spinning for the trout i literally caught dozens on that old reel, i managed to get some nylon line from ludlow it was green in colour and matched the reel but it was a bit springy and it coiled a bit but i managed with it i would catch a few minnows in the trap, and would mount one on a flight putting the point down the minnows throat and you would clamp the mettle fins tight to his head it was a deadly way for catching trout i was introduced to the flight by a man called peter finch, i have talked about him before he would take me carp fishing when he went he was a most mysterious man and a bit eccentric, as well but he lived for his carp fishing and he did have a landing net and some nice rods well nice for those years they were built cane where he got them i don't know and i never really found out where he worked or even if he did because he put a fair bit of time in fishing it was he that told me about dick walker and co and lent me a book that was written by dick it was not long before dick had a column in angling times us lads worshiped him little did i know in a few years i would become a great friend of the gentleman.
In those days you taught your self there was no one to show you how it was done you would watch and learn i did get one of the first copy of Mr crab-tree goes fishing and to some extent that did help but mostly it was chuck it and chance it but we managed to catch fish i loved to fish a float over depth with a big lob worm i would leave the float lying ,flat on the surface i was learning, old Mr carp would come along pick up the worm the float would rise up in the water and start to move lie flat and vanish under the water strike and you were in a bit crude by today's standards but it caught fish i was on a learning curve funny i never worried about fishing in weed i would cast into it and i still caught i would walk miles or get on my bike looking for pools and lakes to fish i was totally besotted with fishing i would eat drink and slept fishing it was my life even to the extent playing truant from school, most of the big lakes were private no fishing they were used by the big estates for shooting the duck but it did not stop me i fished a good many and even had a few pheasants away on shoot days it was very hard in the late forties and fifties money was short anything i brought home pheasant duck trout was greatly received by my family and neighbours. A little more latter
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In reply to Post #59
Reading the thread old school tackle made me thing a bit i don't think i could go back and use the sort of tackle we used in the late forties and fifties an old wooden center pin reel i think they called it the star back coupled with the bamboo cane rod and then the silk line the hooks were not that good either big old jobs but we got by thinking back a still wander how we caught fish at all on this antiquated tackle but we did all we had for ledgers were the old coffin leads or the ball ones you could get the split shot but it was not that good.
I well remember coiling the line up behind behind my self after pulling what you thought was enough out, you gave it the big heave ho and away it would go taking bits of grass with it i got quite accurate doing it. I loved to use floating crust some times it would come off on the cast and you went through the same procedure again but most of the time it stayed on i would cut a forked stick from the hedge pull a bit of line from the reel and put the rod in the fork of the stick you watched the carp play about in the extensive weed beds then finding your crust would start to whittle it down then you watched in wonder as a big pair of lips appeared and engulfed your piece of crust the slack line would fly from below your reel and you would lift the rod and strike it took some time to extract the fish from the weed bed but i would stare in wonder as i managed to get fish to the side we had no landing nets in those days, the carp was only about four pounds but huge to an eight year old boy i never tired of catching fish with this method it was a great way to fish on a nice sunny day i suppose the year would be around 1951 or 1952 i also fished with the float using an old quill usually it was porcupine but with the silk line which was quite thick it really looked a bit of a mess you would not think you could catch fish with it but you did some i had was coloured green so i suppose it blended in with the weeds the other line i had was black and white still silk and it still caught fish bait was mainly worm or bread unless i managed to get some maggots from the abattoir down the road but it was quite a smelly job collecting them from the skins of the animals they had killed, my parents played hell as i would go , home stinking but the maggots worked catching tench and lovely Rudd .
Things really improved when my father got me the old tank aerial rods they were marvelous and it really helped my fishing next came my first fixed spool real a cheap job i now cant remember what it was but it certainly helped my fishing i can remember it was green in colour and had a half bail arm the next one i had was a Mitchell 300 which really was very good my friends were very envious off me, well theres a bit more. some more latter
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In reply to Post #58
I walk through the woods at wen-lock myself and charlie, who is a mine of information. As we walked a long the track he says can you smell him Pete yes charlie we had come across the rancid smell of old foxy who had passed by not so long ago it was very strong so he had passed by the place where we stood minutes before this is where charlie would hold the next fox shoot the local farmers had been troubled by, foxes taking the lambs but it was a huge wood it would take a lot of guns to cover such a big area but it never deterred charlie he knew these woods well he had been at this game many years he knew where to stand the guns where old foxy would break, he was so full of information. I Was with charlie when i found the albino foxes they were pure white with pink eyes beautiful animals i have only seen the likes this once as I told you before we moved them on by leaving our scent on the earth she moved them and we never saw them again i have often wondered if they survived most foxes don't reach old age and were killed by the local Hunt, most did not survive over two years old but you would come across the odd one which had lived for a few more years usually his teeth were yellow and broken but they managed to survive i have seen foxes with three legs and they ran as fast as the ones with four i always put this down to them being in a trap or snare and they have bitten there leg off to get away how they survived i don't know as they must of been in severe pain but they had so they must of eaten what they could find or catch, over the years i have seen a couple with three legs.
 The blue bells in the woods
 The beautiful gorse that surrounded the woods where the badgers played
Charlie liked all wild life although he killed foxes it was a job of work that had to be done for the local farmers he absolutely loved the badger and we would lie in the under growth for hours watching them he would go up to the earth at dark and feed them with with peanuts and peanut butter on bread he had them so tame they would feed from his hand i called him the badger man he would just laugh low betide any one that tried to hurt them even thought he shot foxes he did not like cruelty especially to his badgers he would walk miles and in the winter he would be away at first light, ferret box on his back and spade on his shoulder he would be away all day and maybe he had walked over twenty miles he would leave the rabbits at the farm on whose ground he had been until the likes of myself picked them up for him we became firm friends over the years and were together most weekends. As i have told you all once before he liked his fishing we would go down to brassing tons farm and charlie and i would sit in Harolds kitchen at the farm ant eat big bowls of broth with big slabs of home made bread and butter we would fish the farm pool it was full of small tench and a fair amount of wild carp we had great days down there we did Harold's vermin control as it was quite a big pheasant shoot in those days the farm had a fair head of deer and when you were fishing they would come down to drink we would keep very still and quite i have seen as many as twenty at a time well that's a bit more about my life and a friend i held in high s esteem Charlie has long gone but i will always hold him in my heart it was a pleasure to have known him. well a bit more latter
 Charlies badgers he would hand feed them on peanut butter
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In reply to Post #57
As i walk the old brook rod in hand the sand martins skim over the water taking the small flies and such then dart back to the nest in the river bank they have nested here for generations there grand parents and parents they come back every year to this little brook that wanders through the fields of Shropshire's, i stop and listen to the robin his sweet voice ringing out from deep in the wood as i wander down the bank side the young rabbits scamper for the safety of the wood i look up into the canopy of the tree tops and listen to the ka ka ,of the rookies there are hundreds in this old rookery they have bred here for as long as i can remember and long before i was born as i look i see the unmistakable head of a heron sitting on her nest there are a few pairs that nest within the rookery and seem to tolerate one another nature is so wonderful, i cast my line and watch as the fly disappears with a splash sending up a spray of foam that glistens in the sunlight, i stand in the water and play the fish to the waiting net he lies on his side a beautiful golden colour spotted down both flanks i will not kill this fish i pick him up and stare in wonder at his beauty before gently returning him to his home beneath the glistening water to grow perhaps i will hook him another day as i walk further down i hear the call of the geese as the pass over head there is only a pair both grey lags maybe looking for some where to nest.
 The brook as it flowed through the wood
 Standing on the bridge where the kingfisher had her nest
i cast my line once more and watch the fly trundle down under the far bank there is a splash i miss so try i once again as it approaches the same spot its away and i am connected to a good fish god does he fight on light tackle i play him to the side and look within the folds of the net it is a big old chub i did not weight him but gently let him go he would be around three pounds and gave me quite a scrape. As i follow the mendering course of the brook i see the vibrant blue of the king fisher as he dives for the minnows i lie prone on the bank and watch from a safe distance i notice him going back to the river bridge it looks as if she has her nest tucked inside a hole in the stone work of this ancient bridge out she comes again perching above the moving waters i watch her dive again and reappear with a minnow in her beak and disappear back to the bridge i wander if she has young i will not disturb her by having a look but wander on and leave her in piece, i hear a bark and stop instantly it is the vixen calling her young she must be in the old wood the far side of the brook she has reared her cubs once or twice before in the old rabbit holes that adorn the sandy soil, i creep on down on all fours and lie in the tall grass watching from my side i see movement and watch in wonder as four cubs appear and start to play they roll down the bank beside the old wood no fear at all, i hear the vixen give a sharp bark and the cubs vanish from sight why i wonder she could not have seen or smelled me, then i see the young lady on her pony i walk on and leave them in piece but i will be back and watch them another day by this time the sun is high in the sky i sit by the old style and light my pipe what a way to spend a morning. Now i am old i think back i really miss that way of life my legs no longer want to work and my back aches like hell but what a wonderful time i did have all those years ago this is a true account some time in the late seventies. well a bit more latter 
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In reply to Post #56
As i stood beside the old style i heard the unmistakable call of the hunting horn in the distance the cry of the hounds poor old foxy was being hunted again but as yet they were fields away but if i waited they would come my way. Old foxy had traveled this way many times he had learned this way years before when only a youngster he was only five years old now he had been hunted before many times and always got away, some say he liked the chase but i fear not his heart would pump away, what a majestic animal he is i just hope this not his last day, in the distance i see a flash of red and then hear the dogs they are in full cry poor old Renard had tried, all things to hide his scent but it was no good today in the distance i can now see the hunters on there horses all dressed in red and black but they were still fields away the hound were well in front the horn blew once again to keep the dogs in check but it was no good they were on the scent and on and on they came and then from no where he appears and stops and looks to where i stand a most beautiful dog in his coat of rustic red he had only one way to go through the fence where i stand he has ran this way many times i stand well back and let him go away he goes through the water course he makes for the old ivy tree where he has hidden many times before. I turn my head to face the style just as the dogs arrive i just hope my scent has put them off they cast around the ground sniffing here and there and then the huntsmen comes have you seen the fox sir no says i he never came this way he gave me a funny look and was on his way, along the water course they did go the dogs sniffed here they sniffed there but no scent did they find they stood below the old ivy tree are you sure you never saw him sir no says i, as i look up in the tree i see his little nose as it pockes from beneath the ivy leaves i smile to myself and i will not tell them where he is , the hunts man blows his horn i stand and watch them go across the fields, i look up in the tree once more, i know this fox quite well its not the first time his been up this tree he knows it quite well, i walk away and leave him to rest in piece but before i go i wish him well and say you and i will meet another day but i could not kill this lovely beast and he always got away a true story from the 1970. well a bit more latter
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In reply to Post #55
Sitting out side in this beautiful weather i have been thinking about my life and the good things i have done walking in the hill country not a care in the world just myself graham and the dog the time we have sat between some bales left out by the farmer for us to make a hide and to keep us warm as we waited anticipating the duck to come and feed on the big stubble fields they would come in there hundreds and my old dog blaze would shake with excitement he knew he was there to pick the birds that we shot he was a good old dog and loved to be out with us, he has kept me warm on more than one occasion especially on a winters night when we have been crouching in some old ditch behind the hedge waiting for the geese to arrive it was moments like this that i appreciated the company of my old friend blaze, but alas he has now gone many years ago but he remains in my heart he has been one of many, but the best one i ever had was my old springer SAM alas he to has now gone he died from Weill's disease caused by drinking infected water from a puddle at the side of the road a most vile and terrible thing to catch but he was a wonderful dog he came fishing with me. he was my constant companion and he could catch a few him self when i was bailiff on a big trout fishery he would regularly bring trout up to the lodge in his mouth and they would be still alive i have seen him bring them back over four pounds he would stand in the water with his paw outstretched then in a flash his head would disappear under the water and out would come another trout he was quite well known for doing this he was a wonderful dog i have seen him stand up to his neck in water and catch the swan muscles when they moved he would spend hours with me in my view were never apart, when i had a fish on he would have preferred to land it himself he got that exited.
But he was really a supreme dog when it came to shooting he would never leave a wounded bird he had a brilliant nose i have seen him bring back geese that have been bigger than himself but one thing he hated was grey squirrels he got bitten by one when he was a youngster, i thought it might make him hard mouthed but it never did he would carry a egg around all day and never break the shell, i did not like him bringing hedge hogs into the house his tail would be going side to side as if to say look what i have got here, they could be full of fleas but that was the only fault he had i feel very privileged to have owned him and i have not had another dog since the day he died i don't think i could replace him he was one in a thousand. a bit more latter
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In reply to Post #54
thanks harry appreciated
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In reply to Post #53
morning pete , am still keeping an eye on your threads , always a good read about the old days , brings back many memories fishing with me dads old rod , built cane butt and middle sections wit h a greenheart tip ,weighed a ton in a ten year olds hands . LOL  
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In reply to Post #52
I met an old friend this morning while out and about his name is mike and we fished together for a good number of years i well remember mike catching his first twenty he was over the moon he loved to stalk fish and caught a good many specimens with the old dog biscuit he had it down to fair art and would rather catch fish that way than sit on his chair waiting for the alarms to sound, the only time i saw him do that was when we were night fishing i well remember fishing with mike at a lake in south Shropshire i had set my rods up for the carp and was fishing through the holes in the big weed beds but mike had other ideas and decided he would fish with worm he caught some beautiful perch that night up to three pounds but he had the time of his life when it got dark catching some cracking eels he caught a good many over the four pounds mark with a couple which went to five pounds plus it really wet my appetite and the next night put out an extra rod for the eels and i caught i think the biggest was around four pounds but the perch really interested me and i was determined to get in the action i fished for the perch in the day and caught some really nice fish not huge but some approaching three pounds it was a wonderful lake and it held some really nice fish the average depth was no more than six ft, the carp were a bit harder to catch but i did manage a few up to twenty pounds.
 SOME OF THE EELS FROM THE LAKE
A few years before it was fished by the carp study group and i saw some photos of fish caught in those days but i think the fish had either died, or had been removed years before, a friend took the lease and formed a syndicate yes there were still fish in the place but no huge , we managed to catch fish to twenty pounds but that was about it. Really it wanted restocking but it was far to far to keep an eye on the place, they did have fish poachers a few years before i became a member. it was eventually wound down and the syndicate finished a shame really as the lake could have been quite a good place with a bit of work put in and could have produced some good fish
 another from the same lake
mike also fished with me at betton and a few other lakes around Shropshire's we caught some really good fish we also fished for the barbel and on one occasion caught thirty seven barbel in one session with fish going into double figures i am afraid to say those days have gone you don't seem to catch them like that any more as i have stated before to many predators otters and mink there is no control i don't know what it will be like in a few years from now but i feel we must get our act together and lobby parliament before its to late. A bite more latter
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In reply to Post #51
Well here we go again this is on my laptop still having pr obs with the desk top hopefully will get it repaired by tomorrow night its really the time of year to get the rods out and have ago at the carp i have always managed a session or two by now but with all the fish we lost in Shropshire due to the bad weather its really awkward finding any where to go i have always had lordys to fall back on but not any more a most beautiful fishery dead and gone all the carp had been in the lake for years as far back as i can remember no one fishing there but myself and who i invited it was heaven piece and quite no over crowding like you get on some waters and the wild life was amazing i don't know if it will be restocked as lordy does have a pond used for restocking i shall be going up to see the man soon to find out where we go from here the problem being the lake has a average depth of around five ft and last year it was near impossible to fish it was absolutely choker with weed in all the years i have fished there i have never seen it so bad and while the farmers keep spraying and using nitrates i cant see it getting any better when i was a young chap they grew clover and plowed it back into the fields and that was the only nitrate it had i think it has been banned in some countries and it should be here as it causes weed growth in most lakes and water courses.
When i was younger and fished the lakes in and around Shropshire you never had the problems with weed as you do today, the lakes did have weed but you would pull an area out with the old rake then bait it up the tench would go mad and loved to grub about on a freshly cleared spot we would float fish with maggot or bread on a well baited spot and would catch good bags of tench , 100 pounds was nothing we regularly caught big bags but we had always done our home work most were fish around four to five pounds but they were good sport on light gear i never used a line over four pounds BS for all my tench fishing and i have caught specimens to ten pounds using it, i suppose it was used for all our bream fishing as well we never used line over five pound bs and i have caught a number of double figure bream in my life time and have never lost one because the line broke maybe i have been lucky. well i have had a bad day today arthrities has been playing up so that will have to do for today hopfully a bit more tomorrow
 A COUPLE FROM YEARS AGO
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In reply to Post #49
sorry i have not put any stories on but having trouble with my computer i have some one coming to lookat it latter thanks pete
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In reply to Post #48
It never ceases to amaze me and i have seen so often when a carp, angler catches a big bream and throws it back without even weighing the said fish when asked the answer is i don't like catching the slimy things i am after carp fair enough but i must be different i am grateful whatever fish graces my net if i am honest i have had as much fun catching bream as much as carp a few years ago i suppose i cut my teeth catching the big bronze bream i think it was the mid sixties when we first started fishing for them and that was on a small lake in the shrewsbury area at place called Berrington it was known then as heart break pool you would see the fish but you could never catch them i remember talking to some of the anglers that fished the lake how hard it was and no one could catch it also held some good roach well over the magic two pounds but no one seemed to catch them in any quantity.
 A Berrington bream from years ago
 A photo from years ago at Berringon using the ping pong balls for indercators and only one alarm
It really wet my appetite and myself and graham started to think seriously, about the place and how to catch the fish it held i think at the time it all boiled down to bait ground bait i watched other anglers i never once did we see them, bait up, so graham and myself set about baiting the place up using anything that was available at the time layers mash as a favorite also sausage rusk bread crumbs and maggots in those days graham would call at the maggot breeders and buy a big bucket full it did not cost much like today we started to put a bit of bait in on a regular basis a little bit often we did not even cut the swim until the night we fished but the baiting up defiantly worked i think without looking in the diary the first night we fished we caught over twenty fish they were only four or five pounds with the odd one going seven but a good fish for the sixties, we were the only anglers at the time allowed to night fish the place i don't think many in those days really did much night fishing it was a learning curve for us no bed-chairs only the old sun lounger with a bit of canvas and a blanket to keep the cold at bay, a light to see the doe bobbins which, in those days we used the little night light small candle in a jam jar it gave us plenty of light to see our bobbins, i would be a liar if i said we did not fall asleep you would it was quite a strain on your eyes watching the bobbins for hours but we caught we caught roach to over two pounds beautiful deep bodied fish i think most of the anglers that fished the place were pike anglers so really did not know what stamp of fish were in the lake it was quite deep with depths of over eighteen ft fishing straight from the bank, but we still managed to catch even at that deapth. It was years latter when myself and graham took the lease on and formed a syndicate which we had for many years it was called burycroft syndicate, as i have told you all before its where we fished with jack hilton and bill quinlon but that was in the seventies we did eventualy catch some real biggies from the lake it took a lot of hard work over the years but was well worth the trouble. well a bit more latter
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In reply to Post #47
I love to be out and about even if i cant walk that far there is always so much to see i would like to get down the brook and trot a float down for the gray ling. The Rea now has some tremendous gray ling fishing and most of the fishing is controlled by a very small club i was watching a young man fly fishing the Rea the other day i never saw him catch but the brook looked in real good nick i used to use nymphs and such but may was always looked forward to as you would have the big hatches of may flies it was a glorious way to fish with a big artificial may fly i used to tie my own but i have not done any tying for a number of years it was a pleasant way to spend a winters day and would pass the time away i am afraid i have not done any fly fishing for a number of years mainly due to my arthritis but i would be away tomorrow if i could nothing better sitting beside a babbling brook eating your sandwiches and puffing your pipe i smoked a pipe for forty odd years although i have now packed it up i feel no different exept being better off in pocket and maybe not burning holes in my pockets.
The small rivers and brooks held a magic for me you could see so much wild life from the moor hen the coot ducks and lots more beside i think the love of small brooks came from my younger days when i used to poach in those days the brooks were strictly private owned by the big estates they were full of brownies mostly stocked every year for the owners friends and acquaintances to fish i would hide in the bushes and watch them cast a line but i did better on worm and at night when dark could catch a bag full they were usually around a pound or so and were great to eat there was still food rationing and a few trout always helped us out adding to our diet, in those days it was a necessity and i always got a big kick out of doing it you would have to keep your eyes peeled and use your ears, as the keepers kept a watch on the fish and any poaching that might be going on as i have said i have been chased many times and have always got away but to me it was like a game the keepers versus myself, my parents never once gave me away and thinking back they must have been under great pressure when the local bobby or sgt called to see if i had been out the night before all i can say i was lucky and never once did they catch me in all the years i poached the streams.
 GRAHAM WITH A FISH FROM ELLESMERE
 Another from ellesmere
Just lately i have been thinking about giving ellesmere a go i have not been to the bird sanctuary for a few years and the lakes did hold some very good fish i have had commons to twenty four pounds and have caught some very big roach they could manage a fifteen mil bollie i have seen them come out to three pounds plus but the biggest i have caught was two pounds plus but still a good fish but on carp tackle you don't get much of a fight but there are some clonkers in the place i did try float fishing and managed a fish a cast but none of the real biggies so perhaps graham and i may try a day or two on there . a little more latter
 ANOTHER FROM ELLESMERE
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Stickies