Report on roach fishing on a reel

Spring set about its cheerful work immediately and decisively. It sent the first sonorous rains, from which the white snow cringed and became black in some places. In the afternoon, the sun really burns, even tan. In the morning the frost will grab and quite strong, ten to fifteen degrees. Dress accordingly, and at noon you don’t know how to return from fishing, where to put on a warm padding jacket and sweater. Carry on hands? .. So the drill in the hands and the backpack is still behind. Speaking of fishing ...

Due to such a quick and powerful spring, everything immediately began to melt. And looking at the street, it seems dangerous to go on ice already. Perhaps the ravines are waiting on the river with black traps or worse, hidden under a whitish morning ice. If you step and find yourself in icy water, it is not known whether you crawl out onto the ice.

These doubts worried. But already from experience I know: until you check it yourself, you will not calm down. And if you don’t go, you are merciful, then you will be sorry. The ice is already the last. Now spring, summer and autumn will have to wait for ice, for ages ...

There is nothing to do in the meadows without skis. I know that. Therefore, in the morning I take my wide ski skis with me and go out to the road, and then go down and move to the forest. There is a path and it will lead to the river. Easy to go, crust holds. But you can't go a kilometer without skis. You fall into the snow and get out.

And on the river yet, it turns out that spring has not fully entered into its own rights. Around is still full of snow. And the ice is thick. In some places, an ice drill reaches almost the lamb. But this is a deceptive external impression. The ice is already crystalline and filled with water. Even being fat, it crumbles underfoot, if the time comes and there is no winter strength at all in it.

I choose a place according to summer landmarks. At the opposite steep bank there is the very jet and there is a small hole in the depth of a little more than three meters. Despite the fact that our small river has holes and deeper, sometimes up to five meters or more, this place is catchy in summer. Here I usually catch large roach and scavengers on a feeder. But you can’t catch in the pit itself. This is a snaggy place. Tree trunks usually bring spring here. Therefore, I put a donkey fishing rod almost in the middle of the river. Here is something like an edge, a slope into the pit. And immediately a nasty red nod nodded. Bite! .. Even the feeder bells blurted out from such a sharp bite. But the bite was empty.

Then, more than once, the gatehouse nodded, the bells played, but the bites were empty. Apparently, some cautious trifle fiddling and tearing bloodworms. But I made the main bet precisely on my donka, which I supplied with almost all the elements of the feeder: a feeder, a nod-quivertype, a feeder bells.

The basis of my ice feeder was Akara tackle - the Kola winter fishing rod. This fishing rod was most suitable for my invented tackle. An open, voluminous coil had a friction brake. Carbon fiber whip is very durable and tough. Just under the heavy feeder. Well, there are also legs for installing fishing rods at the hole, with sharp pins at the end. In general, I was hoping for this tackle. Last time she did not disappoint. True, I didn’t catch it here, downstream, read here. And today, my cunning feeder only made my heart tremble in the joyful anticipation of the red-eyed fish on the fishing line, or even uncle bream would suddenly be interested in a brush of bloodworm with maggot. But something had already changed under the ice. And solid fish was not here. Looking ahead, I’ll say that after a day nothing at all here pecked, and in the holes was porridge from grass and knots. Apparently, the river above had already opened up from the ice and dirt was flowing along the course. What kind of fish will stay on a dirty stream ">

And this morning I was rescued by a bezmotylka - the black devil W Spider, model 02. In the middle of the river, the weight of the jig was not enough. She was dragged down the stream, not allowing to reach the bottom. And I went under my low shore, where in summer the water circled in the opposite direction. It was shallow, but roach and bleak fished desperately for a fly fishing rod. There was no bleeding now, but in a quick game, a soft nod suddenly stopped the nod, and the long-awaited fish hammered on the fishing line. The roach was not large, but quite worthy of fish for this river. Caught on the little devil and perch. In a word, it became fun here, especially on a sunny, sunny morning with Retro FM music that poured from the receiver. It’s a pity that I lost the best time of the morning to fuss with donka, bait and empty bites. It was necessary immediately to take up the rewindlessness. But who knew? ..