Category Archives: Little Avon


Managed a few hours in the water yesterday. A couple of Andrew’s flies were put through their paces. A double bead pink collar Hare’s Ear took this…


from here…


The fly now decorates the tree.

Still no Trout ūüė¶

Days when you learn nothing

My last couple of trips to the river have met with limited success – only one nice Grayling to show for my efforts.¬† The thing is, I feel I have been fishing well. My approach has been stealthy, I’ve fished where I know there are fish, used flies that I know catch fish and generally cast quite well.

In the past I have always learned something from blank days but now, after several days of reflecting upon my failure I cannot think of anything I could have done differently.

I suppose that one day the Gods of the angle will reveal the answer to the question I don’t know how to ask but, for now I remain frustrated.


I had a day on the Little Avon with Neil yesterday. Following breakfast at Michaelwood we set off to explore the section to the between the M5 and Middle Mill Farm as neither of us had fished there before. First impressions are very good – it feels fishy.


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Promise fulfilled

Half an hour before sunrise; -4c and bone dry. On the Cotswolds side of the valley the dawn was a perfect, cloudless Homeric rosy-pink, rising to a powder blue canopy before descending into a bruised pink/purple/grey smudge over the Forest of Dean. Here and there it was torn by cotton-wool contrails spear-headed by impossibly bright diamond points of light, reflected back from the planes leaving this perfect scene behind.

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Soggy doggy

I went for a stroll along the Little Avon Yesterday and she’s showing the effects of winter. It seems she decided to take to the fields and left behind a soggy brown mess and the detritus of the flood litters her banks.

There are plastic bottles and bags wedged into impossibly high forks in the trees and the whole scene is rather sad and depressing, though the sight of a healthy flock of Fieldfare’s lightened my spirit.

Spring seems a long way off.



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The Little River Avon

Originally posted 06 October 2006

It’s Friday and I’m looking out of my Bristol office window at a grey, wet & windy October day – not a day that would inspire one to go fishing.¬† At times like these, with the new season¬†too far away to start planning a new campaign, you can only reminisce about the season just gone.
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Close Encounters

Originally posted 10 October 2006

I suppose we all have our favourite stretches of river, some pool or riffle where we have caught fish before and fully expect to catch fish again.  A place where, even on the hardest days our spirits rise at the prospect of a take or two.

My ‘spot’¬†comes at the end of a canal like glide that ends in an abrupt right angle bend.¬† Here, the river shallows to become a short, shallow¬†riffle before crashing into the submerged roots of a large alder, scouring out a surprisingly deep diagonal channel where it meets another large tree.¬† It seems that every time I fish here, something memorable happens. Continue reading

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