FREE LINE 03 - Page 198

In Search of Beasts
and Beauties
By Terry Hofgartner
ast time I mentioned a
small water, set in a day
ticket complex local to
where I live. I spent a
very enjoyable season
fishing this intimate little water, with plenty of highs and
plenty of lows throughout the year. So
this time around I’m going to cast my
mind back a couple of years, delve
into the old grey matter, and with the
use of a couple of damp scribbled
diaries try to share my experiences
that came with my year’s angling on
this cracking little water, situated in
the Twynersh fishing complex. I had a
brief encounter with the lake back in
the summer of 2000; I fished a single
night, and landed a couple of mid-20
commons. I didn’t know it at the time,
The big headed common.
but those two fish that I caught were
to become the two most elusive fish
in the pond. I’d been considering giving it a bash for a while, and catching
some of its prized residents were in
the back of my mind for some time,
but it wasn’t until the 9th October
2004 that I actually wet a line there
I had returned from a fortnight’s
fishing in France that morning, and
after a couple of hours’ much needed
kip (14 nights on a bedchair ain’t too
good for the back), I woke up at about
9am. On looking out the window, I
was relieved to see all my gear still
there loaded in the van on the driveway (not the safest place to leave your
prize possessions), but bed was
needed, and that was a mountain that
needed sorting. I was now faced with
a decision – not a tough one, but a
decision nonetheless – either do the
responsible thing and sort out the
mountain of crap in the van, load the
tools up, and basically prepare myself
for the reality shock that is the daily
grind, or sod all that and go fishing.
There was only one choice for me, and
an hour or so later I was pulling
through the gates of the Tywnersh
complex, feeling fresh, armed with a
new bait, and brimming with confidence after the recent results in
France. The lake was still on a day
ticket at the time, and as I was only
doing a day, I had to be out of the
gates by 4.30pm. About 3.45pm, right
at last knockings, my right hand rod
burst into life and a good scrap


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