Clear drains, deep river, no cigar

I can tell no-one's been here for months, as I set off for a distant stretch of drain that's getting on for a mile from the nearest road. Getting there's a breeze with just a couple of lure rods, a rucker and a net to carry through the high grass waving in the breeze.

My heart sinks when I reach the bit I fancy. I can see the bottom two-thirds of the way across. I give half a dozen swims a go and set off back to the car. Next stop, a river.

There are people in the areas I fancied trying, so I head for a bit where you rarely see anyone. I hop over the bank and there's no-one about.

As I rummage through my lure box, I can tell someone's been here. Someone who's bagged up their rubbish after a session and thrown it in the reeds. Nice.

I gave this stretch an hour, using a Magnum to get down deep into the clear water. After a while, I even started thinking I was going to catch one, as the lure was doing what I wanted it to. I tried another stretch, where the roach and bream have been showing lately. No cigar again.

A nearby-ish drain was covered in weed and unfishable. I had a go in the boat basin next door, before setting off for another part of the system to have a look at another drain, which didn't look quite as clear as I peered down off a bridge.

I'll save that one for tomorrow - along with a bit of river that doesn't look like anyone's bothered with in ages.

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