Ah, Storm Arwen approacheth bringing strengthening winds and dropping air pressures. Having blanked in a 3-hour cold stint at Willows on Wednesday that didn't even make a blog entry (you really didn't miss much), I decided instead to humiliate myself on the river once more.

Started off at the weir, and scraped a dace, a roach, two minnows and, at last,  ... a chub! All 6 ounces of it. I also lost three much better fish, one that I thought was a snag before it torpedoed off, each one dropping off the hook. Size 16, fine wire maggot hook, microbarbed - I still cant work out what I do wrong to suffer so many losses. Maybe I strike funny. 

Parliament draught next, particularly well-named as the westerly wind blew straight down the channel so hard you could have surfed on it, I persevered for an hour but bait presentation was tricky and only a single small roach fell for it.

Off to the freshly cut back northern straight, where hit by a hail shower, I kept my hands warm in my pockets as I switched from trotting and legered cheesepaste in a few chubby spots. Nothing -  but frankly, I didn't expect anything.

Back at the weir in the sun, I legered the rest of the cheesepaste at the end if the main flow for a 1lb 12 brownie before turning back to float where yet another fish threw the hook before a 1lb 6 perch remain snagged.

Off the nearby canal for twilight at Enbourn where apart from a six-ouncer, the perch weren't showing - unless you count the dead 2lb+ one on the bank, a victim of otter attack. I managed to get irreparably tangled three times in that last hour and brought another disappointing river trip to an appropriate close, when driving home, in a steamed-up car wondering why I keep doing this to myself, I got stuck in race day traffic. Bleuggh.