Stray Dog Part 3

It was good to see my great friend Wes and his lovely family as always and we went for a beer as it was sweltering hot, certainly over 30 degrees and definitely not carp catching conditions, but I was happy just to be there as always. Conditions aside I still wanted to get some bait out there before dark, so as Wes had to go out for the evening I set about getting a couple of kilos of glugged krill baits out on the big plateaux at range from his garden. Now I don't know how far it is to the area we fish from Wes’ but it's a fair wallop and takes a fair bit of effort with the spomb. By the time I'd finished I was ruined in the heat but an ice cold shower and change of clothes bought me back to life and I was angling again.

By the time Wes returned home I was all set up, rods out and feeling as fresh as a daisy. It was a truly gorgeous evening, the lake flat calm and a big old full moon dominating the scene. I’ll be honest I didn't think that I stood much of a chance given the conditions, especially as not long into dark I had a bream, which is not usually a good sign at all.

After another busy, hot day I was feeling tired and ready for bed when Wes came out with an ice cold beer so we sat and chatted a while. I think I must have been asleep within a few seconds of zipping myself into the mozzi dome, it had been a long day and for the first time since I got to France I could truly relax and sleep without one eye open.

A brace of forties, what a session...

A full nights kip looked out of the question when at 4 am one of the rods was away and I was out in the bare feet on the cool dewy grass playing a mad carp at long range. The fights are never easy affairs here as the fish tend to kite on such a long line but this one came in more or less straight and true. The carp didn't make it easy for me though as it charged up and down the rocky margins savagely shaking its’ head, it was a full 20 minutes before it finally hit the surface and I managed to bundle it into the net and go for a torch. When I tried to lift it out I realised that it was a big’un, over 40lb for sure, a big brown mirror with a very recognisable scale high up on one flank, all I knew was it was one I didn't know so I unhooked it and crept down to Wesley’s shed to grab a retainer. Soon he was all sorted and I finally got back to bed. I must have only just nodded off when I was away again, this time a nicely scaled 30 pounder was slipped into a bag for pics at first light. I decided to wait until I could see to recast and this left just the solitary remaining rod out on the area, so it was no real surprise when this went just on dawn. Without much of a fight I netted a big wide common, another fish that looked easily over 40 – what an amazing night.

Drying everything out

Dorst meaning 'thirst', each time i waved the sign an ice cold beer made its way to me, it was incredible.

After this it was pointless trying to sleep as Wes would soon be up for work, so I made fresh coffee and had toasted croissants to celebrate my bloody good fortune. My last four fish from the lake have been three 40’s and a 39, I’ll not argue with that, what a funny thing carp fishing can be at times.

Well, it's super hot again today, brutal in fact but there's meant to be rain later so I’ll make the effort and put out another 30 odd spombs this evening, hopefully I’ll get another bite before heading off for our weekend social in the morning, whatever the outcome, I've already caught more than I expected in what has been poor fishing conditions, any further bites would be a nice bonus.

Another three fish came that night, or was it four, I can't remember. The pick of the fish was another old original common of mid 30’s and I packed up early and was away to my next destination maybe twenty minutes down the road to tie up with my friends for a weekend of lovely times in the form of a big bbq and social, which I'd really been looking forward to.

An original mid-thirty common from the lake.

With lots of beer, many bottles of dark rum and as always a great spread of superb bbq food by Alain, it was bound to be good. Plenty of pirate antics (pirates drink rum right?) lots of laughs and absolutely no serious fishing talk, not to mention a few carp between us, the weekend went in the blink of an eye and it was with a tres wobbly head on Sunday morning that I set off back to France to meet up with my friend Mick. All I can say is it's a good job the social is only once a year as my liver couldn't take it any more regularly.

I think it was a three-hour drive or thereabouts to get down to Chantecoq. Mick lives in a quiet village only a few miles from the big lake, we had arranged for an adventure to the mountains as Mick had never fished in the alps (although he'd been there many times snowboarding in a previous incarnation) and  he was keen to go looking and I was to be the guide. My plan was to give him a tour of the alpine valleys and show him a few of the better lakes I know as well as go to look at a few waters that I'd never got round to visiting. A couple that I'd been doing research on for years but up to this point in time I had never found the time to visit as they are well out of the way, which would have hopefully shielded them from the rampaging hoards.

I get asked a lot about how I find out about the places I fish, well I do tons of research online for starters but in more recent years the places I choose to fish have become just as important as the fish I choose to chase. There are lots of very beautiful places to fish if your prepared to look hard enough and also lots of very quiet and un-spoilt waters. The simple truth is, most are not prepared to go the extra mile when searching for great fishing in amazing surroundings, but I am. Long drives and remote places don't phase me one bit but it's worth mentioning that my angling has evolved beyond just fishing, I crave more than ‘just big carp’ these days, I want solitude, wild carp without broken fins and mouth damage and beyond all else, freedom, something that is becoming harder to find in life as well as fishing.

I got to Mick’s early afternoon and we spent a relaxed evening planning our mission and packing all the kit into his van ready for an early(ish) start the next morning. I have to say that after a week on the bank, broken sleep and a ruined back (30+ years sleeping mainly on a bedchair) it was nice to get a hot shower and spend the night in a proper bed in Mick’s mansion. After fresh coffee and bacon and eggs the following morning we eventually got going and headed off toward the Alps. I'd sorted a route to take in several lakes on our way to the Swiss border at Geneva where we would cross, headed to pastures new.

We spent the first night at a lake close to Lake Geneva, Mick was keen to fish but I wasn't up for it one bit. I was ill, very ill, whether it was all the dark rum or something I'd eaten I wasn't sure, either way I was feeling proper rough and all I could think about was curling up in a ball and trying to sleep and that's exactly what I did as soon as we unloaded the van. Shaking and feeling cold the last thing I remember was hearing Mick putting out some cod balls with the stick, and then it was morning.

I felt better than I had but I was still not right, Mick’s diagnosis was pirates poisoning (rum!). With no fish for Mick we were soon on our way once more and headed for a new lake that I was super excited about, well as excited as I could have been considering the state of me in the next mountain valley, one I'd been researching over the previous couple of years. First things first I needed to get some food in me before I collapsed so we stopped for croissants at the first Boulanger we passed. A short while later with towering peaks high above us we caught our first sight of the lake. WOW we both said at the same time, what a magical place with the most amazing vista imaginable. We parked up at one end in the car park and stepped out into quite a breezy morning and went to take our first look. Before we had even walked the twenty or so yards to the waters edge I saw a carp boom out about halfway down the lake in the waves, then another, and another. Perhaps it was the excitement I'm not sure but at that exact moment I suddenly felt very sick. I ran to the bushes and retched my heart out for a few minutes. “Oh my god Mick, bleeuuuuurgh, oh god I'm dying Mick, bleuuuuuurgh, there's another one Mick, bleeuuurgh”, and so it went on, every time I lifted my head to wipe my mouth another boomed out in the waves and I threw up once more until there was nothing else left to evacuate and I fell to my knees praying for it to end.

Well as is always the way when your sick I soon started to feel better, poor old Mick looked worried. "You ok" he kept asking. "Yeah, yeah don't worry about me I'm super”.

Never ones to look a gift horse in the mouth we were soon sorting out a few rods and a tackle bag each and headed off on the long walk down the lake to where the fish were showing. A couple of casts revealed it to be deep, far deeper than I had expected to be honest, I guessed it was twenty-five foot out there if not a little more in the middle section. Not only was it deep but the bottom was very weedy, and worse still, it was a thick, twig like weed I'd never seen the likes of it before, really calciferous and more akin to a pile of sticks on the lake bed, which would make any sort of presentation very difficult indeed, and that was being optimistic.

Obviously with fish showing well neither of us wanted to ruin a golden opportunity with lots of casting so I decided to put out a zig as the crystal clear alpine water looked good for it and it was doubtful that they had ever been used there I thought. Within the hour we had three rods each, spread out over a wide area and the fish continued to show like dolphins. We'd give it a few hours and then make a call on what to do for the night ahead.  Well I guess it was barely half an hour when one of the oxo cube sized bits of black foam fished on a big hook was away. The take was savage in the extreme and we both giggled like schoolboys as the fish ploughed off upwind before weeding me up solid and it wouldn't budge. I tightened up to the fish with the rod beyond test curve. With the braid howling in the wind I put the rod on the floor and stood on it and waited. A minute or so passed before the rod tip gave the slightest of knocks and I picked up the rod and walked back up the bank and started to gain line. With the odd big head shake I said to Mick that it felt like a really good fish but of course he didn't need telling.

A further ten minutes passed and it occurred to me just what a monumental moment in time we were both experiencing. Here we were, the best part of 800 miles from home fishing in the most amazing setting imaginable and I was playing a big carp within half an hour of making my first cast in this magical lake.

As an adventure angler this was one of those truly golden moments that I live for, the sort of scenario that you always dream of. Discovering this beautiful place would have been reward enough but what's more, turning up to find showing fish, dropping in and catching straight off is the perfect example of why I choose to invest all the time and effort I do on these sort of trips.

With the fish nearing the bank it suddenly came into view and it was clear it was a lovely fish and a big one too for a true alpine carp. Sitting at an altitude of 600metres and surrounded by snow capped mountains this lake is hidden far from the lower lying lake filled valleys to the south east, well out of the zone of all but the few committed souls (like us) who continue to search for the kind of fishing we grew up hearing stories about. Often whispered in hushed tones I grew up listening to these stories from the true early pioneers of this kind of angling which in turn set me off on my own search for something truly special – I'd found just that.

Soon Mick had the carp, a big mirror safely in the net and we wore smiles from ear to ear. This was truly what it is all about for us, it matters not who catches, it's a team effort, we share the work and as long as we're catching it's enough. This proved to be the start of a nice run of fish for me through the afternoon. As if the surrounding’s weren't enough the fish were incredible and unusual in that most of them were scaly mirrors, and beautiful with it, a real rarity on all fronts. It was clear that given the thick weed, fishing zigs looked to be the key to getting a few bites. the fish took them without hesitation and because they had clearly never been fished for in this fashion we could get away with upping the tackle considerably to 15lb hook links and a big hook to minimalise losses in the weed which was proving formidable in the extreme.

As the sun dropped behind the mountains we made a decision to pack up and leave the lake for the evening. Being in unfamiliar territory I wasn't going to risk staying on the lake until I knew the craic. Even though we hadn't seen any other anglers or any sign of the local guarde it always pays to be cautious on the first night or so in a new area and as it is clearly such a special place I wasn't going to push it.

We found one bit of bottom out in front that was just a little clearer where we could actually get leads to hit the bottom and both of us felt we really should put out a hit of bait and then come back at first light the following morning and fish for the day. We had bought along a bucket of soaked krill boilies from the van so we both set about spombing them out there. Now spombing big baits takes ages and it took us a good while to empty the bucket of boilie. At this point I should mention that we were using shelf life baits, a huge departure for me but the Krill in shelf life had proved absolutely no different or any less effective than freezer baits on my last couple of trips and I was now a total convert for this sort of angling, and that's a very big deal for me. I'd initially taken the shelf life's on the advice of Mick on our Cassien trip, a true old hand angler who's word I trust implicitly and he was spot on when he said that they loved them just as much as the freezer baits.

It was dark by the time we got sorted and made the big trek back to the van, all the way Mick ‘reminding’ me that he'd asked before we left if we would need a barrow on this trip... We headed off soaked with sweat and stinking of Krill in search of a supermarket to replenish supplies, it was fair to say that we were buzzing, or should that be humming?

We were humming alright, every little sauce pot we passed in the supermarche looked at us literally with disgust, lol. What a touch finding a supermarket open, we had all the stuff we needed for the next day or so. From there we headed to McDonald's in a nearby town for a coffee and a burger and to discuss our options for the night but decided at the last minute to go for a proper steak dinner and a couple of cold beers to celebrate such a great discovery and to toast our early success.

We left the restaurant full and satisfied and decided to head across the valley. There were several other smaller lakes nearby where we could spend the night so we went to check them out but saw nothing in the time we were sat watching. In the end we went back to the big lake and slept next to the van in the car park to see how on top it was. Well nothing happened, no garçon vitesse (boy racers), no welders or dogging and most importantly no guarde. It was dead quiet all night and we slept uninterrupted all the way through till 6am when my alarm woke me. It was clear and chilly, and still dark as I swung my legs off the bed and reached for the tea bag to get the coffee on the go. Me banging about soon stirred old Mick and by the time the percolator was gurgling he was up and about. The pair of us keen as ever to get down to the swim and get the rods out.

Like laden pack mules we struggled off on the half a mile trek to the plot. All the way Mick reminding me again that we should have brought a barrow along. Every few steps we took we heard fish rolling up the lake, and with every commotion our pace got that little bit quicker. Having baited fairly heavily the evening before we decided to shorten the zigs right down to a couple of feet off the bottom and use a mixture of foam hook baits or bright pop ups. With all the rods out we sat down to watch and I set about making more coffee. I hadn't even filled the pot with water when one of my rods bleeped and as I looked up it was buckled over savagely. The bite came from the middle of the baited area on a white krill pop up fished a couple of feet straight off the lead. This was the start of a great days fishing, I honestly don't know how many we had, a dozen bites at least I'm guessing. It really was amazing fishing and the novelty of the incredible surroundings didn't wear off one bit. We spent the entire day either checking out the beautiful girls jogging past, playing carp or laughing non stop, it was a really good day and a memory that will last forever, a magical place enjoyed in great company.

We headed off to a nearby lake that evening and chanced our arm by doing a night. At some point in the night I had a take but due to the batteries dying in my remote due to the sharp drop in temperature I slept on oblivious, but the take woke Mick after it had been going for some time. By the time he got to the rod the fish had gone and he reeled in the rig which was well over a hundred yards from where I'd cast it, cest la vie, some you win.

Anyway, all was not lost as while we were packing away I caught the most amazing long fully scaled mirror, the sort of fish that you would more likely find back home and a rarity in France. It appeared that all the lakes in the area held such fish, we couldn't believe our luck. We did another day back at the big lake and we were surprised to find a couple of carp anglers fishing one, of which informed us that night fishing was allowed at the weekends, so not being ones to look a gift horse in the mouth we decided to stay for the night. Once again we struggled to keep the rods in the water and more beautiful carp graced our nets. The constant action didn't go unnoticed by the local anglers who repeatedly sent out their bait boats and dropped right on top of us. Now no matter how lovely the place or the fishing both of us soon grew weary of the constant punishment and we decided that we would do the night and move on the following morning and head south east to another valley where I'd fished a fair bit in the past. Mick was keen to have a good look around for future reference so we packed up mid-morning and headed the couple of hours to pastures new.

First stop was a lake I know well and one I'd first fished with my good friend Trev a good few years previously, which had in the intervening years become super busy, a proper circuit water once the word had spread. Of course very quickly once somewhere wild gets discovered and the fish start to see lots of bait they grow very big, very quickly, and that was exactly what happened at this lake. I warned Mick that it would probably be busy so it was a real surprise to find the lake empty and even more of a surprise to find lots of fish rolling and bubbling, all concentrated in one area. It goes without saying that within minutes we had been back to the van and grabbed some rods.

Well, sometimes fate teases you a little, as it did on this occasion. We got the rods out on the showing fish which continued to show and bubble and it was clear that it was only going to be a matter of time before one rattled off. Maybe ten minutes passed when out of nowhere two French men appeared in the swim looking sheepish. We soon worked out that they were trying to tell us that the lake was closed as there was an enduro (carp match) taking place for the weekend, they were very apologetic and we understood and reeled in, how's your luck.

It was back in the van and we visited several other lakes in the valley throughout the day and decided to head back to Mick’s and have a day or two on the big lake, and maybe another lake nearby before checking out a few more secret places on our way back. Before I knew it, it was time for me to think about heading home and see my little girl. Of course there's always so much more to tell than space or time permits this time around, it had been a fantastic summers fishing in France and in the UK and I’ll treasure the memories that were made forever.

Once home the real work began, sorting through and editing the several thousand images I'd taken alone was a big task without all the video, and then there's all the kit to deal with. I've been half tempted to leave it all in the car and just book another crossing straight away but of course that's just not practical as much as I'd like to. I have fishing to do at home before my next foray, oh, did I not mention I'm off again soon? Lol. Yes, I'm heading back with my good friend Oli Davies for a long overdue adventure and then I'l be making a return to the big lake in November with Mick for some boat fishing for Autumn monsters on the der (water levels permitting). Then there's a road trip in the new year where we intend to drive to Morocco, a mission in itself involving a Herculean journey through France and across the Pyrenees and right down through Spain where we will get a ferry to Tangier, then the big drive through Morocco to the Atlas Mountains (we must be mad), so many adventures, never enough time or money. One things for sure though and that is I have plenty of big krill boilies soaking in readiness, it's almost unfair on the carp.

I hope you've enjoyed this latest diary piece, unsurprisingly there's been plenty I've not covered but I’ll keep those places and tales for another day, be lucky and if anything I hope that you've been a little bit inspired to get out there on your own adventure.

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At the start of this piece I explained just how integral a part to these adventures music is to me. Because of this I felt I should write down my playlist for the trip or at least the stuff I played most often to give you an idea of the vibes. Of course musical taste is quite personal but it is such a big part of any trip that I feel it should be shared to give you more of a true insight. Of course, each trip is very different, and so is the feel and music and I try to keep it varied and never the same depending on where I'm headed. Anyway for what it's worth, here is a list of the albums I listened to this time round. Naturally there is always certain tunes or specific lyrics that resonate the most with you on each adventure, and this time there were several I played more than others, and these were the following:

1.     Stray dog – New Order
2.     Restless – New order
3.     A Forest – The cure
4.     High Hopes – Pink Floyd
5.     View 2 – Sasha (scene delete)
6.     Stay high – Tove Lo (Habits remix) Truth Serum EP
7.     Half Light – Wilkinson 2014
8.     Numb – Portishead (Dummy)
9.     Small Talk – Sasha (Involver 3)

Albums taken from my phone, loaded for this trip:

The Cure – Greatest Hits 2001
Depeche Mode – The Best Of (Remastered) 2006
Massive Attack – 100th Window 2003
New Order – Music Complete 2015
Pink Floyd – Echoes, The Best Of Pink Floyd 2001
Portishead – Dummy 1994
Sasha – Late Night Tales, Scene Delete 2016
Sasha – Involver 3 2013
John Digweed – Live in Argentina 2013
John Digweed – Live in Slovenia 2014
John Digweed – Live in Córdoba 2012
John Digweed – Live in South Beach 2015
Gorillaz – Feel Good inc
Ian Brown – The Greatest 2005
Thompson Twins – Greatest Hits
Carl Cox – Global Underground #38 (Black Rock Desert)
Jimmy van m – Global Underground
Electronic 80’s 2000

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