I’m sure there is a reality TV show concept in here somewhere? You take some anglers who have never caught a barbel; strand them in a strange northern market town; force them to eat fish and chips or curious oriental food; deprive them of sleep; perform team tasks; negotiate obstacle courses; handle wriggly grubs and endure multiple hardships. Last one to catch a barbel is out; add in a bit of ballroom dancing, I think it’s a goer, it could run forever. I have to say it already seems like it has for me as we plan our fourth trip to Yorkshire attempting to lose Glen and Micky’s barbel virginity. They really must catch this time!

Glen has had more than his fair share of mishaps in his angling life, like falling off a ladder and missing the trip a couple of years ago; and the time he had to go to hospital to have a Greenwell’s Glory removed from his ear! So when he turned up at the pre-trip meeting on Thursday with a raging sore throat there was some doubt over whether he was going to make the trip this time! However, penicillin is a wonderful discovery and by Sunday morning his temperature is down to normal and we find him waiting outside his house; his bags are packed and he’s ready to go! As we load up his gear I notice two supermarket packs of TimeOuts, that’s twenty eight chocolate biscuits, sticking out of one of his bags. I know we talked about packing up at six but I think Glen’s made a pack-up for six!

Just let a bit of fresh air in
Just let a bit of fresh air in!

The trip up north is curious in that it is very foggy which usually means slow progress but for some strange reason the time just flies by and before long we are passing Wetherby. A couple of miles later there is a sign, prior to a prolonged set of road works, that says, rather ambiguously, “ABNORMAL LOAD HOLDING AREA” which, when read with our sort of warped sense of humour, assumes an entirely different meaning from that which is originally intended. We are gripped by a serious set of giggles until we arrive at Boroughbridge.

Fish’N’Things is open and we buy our tickets and a few maggots; Jim says the Swale has a strong peaty colour to it which is the discouraging information I have been trying to keep away from the lads. One good bit of news, however, is that I have contacted Sean ‘Myagi’ Meeghan who also happens to be fishing our stretch today and he is hoping to meet us about three o’clock. He has told me that he’s meeting up with Deanos, who can only fish an afternoon session, owing to the fact that he’s holding his Mam’s horse while she loads the coal cart this morning!

Arriving at the riverside it’s clear that there are a lot of cars; more than we’ve seen before. Several anglers are tackling up; it appears there is a match on the bottom length of the stretch so we have to move the car and head upstream for ‘The Horseshoe’, a large meander almost doubling back on itself but with dozens of dreamy swims. On this stretch there is a narrow path between a field of wheat and the bank which is draped in Himalayan Balsam eight feet high! Glen takes the first swim – his ankle is still not one hundred per cent – and Micky and I head upstream. The Himalayan Balsam is just ripening and is creating a bit of an assault course in Micky’s wake as the seed capsules explode.

I creep down the steepish bank to my chosen swim, a superb smooth glide terminating in an overhanging willow. As we are tackling up there is a light, but prolonged shower followed by another about half an hour later so I’m astonished at about 10.45am when I hear the sound of a large engine firing up and the farmer comes into the field to start harvesting! I work in the agricultural sector and I know how hard it’s been this year but the moisture content of the wheat must be much too high for combine harvesting? The forecast is for steady rain this afternoon so they have got to be very keen to get it in before then. I nip up the bank for a look to see two large John Deere combines, and two large tractors with giant trailers. I tiptoe back down trying not to disturb the swim with heavy footfalls and so on. A minute later the combines thunder past ten feet above me, the ground shakes about 6.4 on the Richter scale! Moments later the tractors and trailers follow past grunting and straining under the poor soil conditions. It’s like fishing next to a building site. This carries on for two hours as the farmer frantically tries to gather in his harvest. Occasionally they stop to unblock the giant machines when they get bunged up with wet crop, which is the only relief from the constant noise and vibration. At about two o’clock it starts raining steadily but amazingly they continue harvesting, they must be truly desperate.

I take a walk down to see Glen; the approach to his peg is through an arch of Himalayan Balsam! He is getting a few bites on pellet but his awkward swim is making life difficult to strike properly. I tell him I’ve had a text from Sean saying he thinks we should be alright for chub but the barbel may not be feeding well due to the peaty stain in the water.

Since last year’s debacle I have upgraded my tackle. I am now the proud owner of a 11/2 lb TC Fox Duo-Lite Barbel rod which is superb. I have also purchased a Mitchell Avorunner 5500 and loaded it with 12lb line. I have to confess the reel is taking some getting accustomed to, I’m constantly wishing I’d paid a bit more and got a Shimano but I’ll just have to get used to it. I’m feeding a few pellets every now and then, a bit like loose feeding maggots but not nearly as frequently. I have been paying attention to Sean Myagi’s recent article about catching large barbel on short sessions by feeding up two or three swims but with the weather conditions deteriorating I will probably stay put now.

At the bottom of my swim I see a large fish roll out of the water, the orangey hue suggestive of a barbel. It’s about eight feet deep out there so what is the barbel doing rolling on the top? I don’t like it but it shows there is the odd fish about. It’s about three o’clock when I cast out my 8mm banded halibut pellet to the end of my swim and allow the

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