FL13 - Page 128

Lights, Camera,Action
ith the worst
of the winter
w e a t h e r
finally behind
us and a few
lakes slowly
turning back to liquid, February saw
me once again heading out and about
in search of rod-bending action. The
first port of call was once again Cuttle
Mill, and even though I’ve previously
written about some of my captures
from previous trips I’d just like to
cover a couple of excellent sessions I
had in mid to late February. With a
few fish already under my belt so far
in 2010, I made arrangements for an
Anglers Mail journalist to spend the
day with me doing a live on-the-bank
feature. I’ve done a few of these over
the years, and the pressure to catch
always plays heavily on your mind.
Despite this I knew there was a good
chance of catching a couple of fish,
especially now the thaw had taken
hold and once again signs of carp had
been spotted in various parts of the
(Top) I was liking the choccy malts
and so did the fish!
(Below) Paul Bloor with a stunning
lake. A couple of days before my
planned shoot I took the opportunity
to have a day on the Mill, and having
not been out for a couple of weeks I
thought it would be a good idea to
sort out a few bits of tackle and do
some preparation for the day in question. A quick call to Roy Russell the
bailiff confirmed all was quiet for a
midweek visit so without further hesitation I booked myself on for the following day.
As usual I had little sleep that night
and before long the alarm clock was
calling for my attention. 5am starts
are never the easiest but in the middle of February when the night time
temperatures have plummeted to
well below zero; it takes determination to drag oneself out of a warm bed
especially when you’ve a bit of female
company! After a quick caffeine injection I was once again southbound on
the M6 dodging the huge lorries
driven by erratic Europeans who
seem to have little regard for anyone
using the motorway in the early hours
of the morning. After a nail-biting
journey and with one eye on the
clearing sky, I finally breathed a sigh
of relief and headed onto the quieter
toll road, stopping briefly to reluc-
tantly wave my £5 note under the
nose of the miserable old chap in his
little square box. Without so much as
a thank you he waved me on, eager to
lighten the wallet of the next poor
Before long I was pulling into that
famous lane that all carp anglers
know, and as usual I took pole position in front of the gate, eagerly awaiting the start of a new day on the Mill.
Whenever I go to Cuttle Mill I’m for-


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