Battling the Weather and the Carp – Airfield Lake Session

With the weather all over the place from midweek onwards, I found myself juggling gardening jobs and studying forecasts more than I’d like. The plan had been to head to the lake on Wednesday morning, but after a closer look at the charts, Tuesday afternoon was clearly the better choice. Rain was due to sweep in around 5 p.m., and I needed to be set up well before then.

I hit the deadline perfectly, rods out and camp sorted, only for the weather to delay its entrance until much later that night. For once, the timing worked in my favour. With just six weeks left before Airfield Lake closes for the winter, I’ve committed myself to focus here. Time has flown this year, and while I’m not exactly looking forward to the coming cold, a recent change in medication will hopefully help with my perennial issue of frozen hands.

Setting the Trap

The wind was hammering in from the southwest, and with the inlet pumping fresh water into the northeast corner, I knew exactly where I needed to be. My trusted spots were still intact from previous sessions, so the plan was simple: a solid PVA bag on the close-range rod and a small mesh bag on the longer one. Punching bags into the wind isn’t my strong suit, so range would be sensible rather than heroic. I baited heavily on arrival, knowing it would be grim trying to top up once the rain arrived.

The night was quiet, save for a couple of bleeps that got the bobbin dancing but led to nothing more.

Early Morning Wake-Up Call

At 6:04 a.m., the right-hand rod tore off, snapping me out of a half-dream. Still half-asleep, I found myself ankle-deep in the margins, desperately trying to steer the carp away from the left-hand snags. It clipped a branch, but fortune was on my side—the line pinged free, and soon the battle tipped in my favour.

Into the net slipped a 16lb 15oz common. Not a monster, but a very welcome start to the trip. I rebaited straight away, encouraged by the shows forecast for the day.

Tea-Time Take

By late afternoon, hunger was winning and I sat down to my tea—only to hear the familiar scream of the same rod. Forgotten was the forkful of food; instead, I found myself attached to another carp.

This time, a 12lb common. Not the biggest, but carp number two, and enough reason to fire out a few more Spombs before the rain finally returned.

A Midnight Surprise

At 3:48 a.m., the same rod was off again. The fish tried every trick in the book—hugging what felt like a hidden bar or log, tearing along the margins, and bolting back out into open water. But persistence paid off, and eventually I guided a cracking 20lb 6oz mirror over the net cord. Mirrors are rare in this lake, so it felt like a real prize.

Just an hour later, at 4:36 a.m., I was in again. This one fought completely differently, darting around the surface and powering back into open water. Sadly, mid-charge, the hook pinged free. Needle-sharp, perfect setup—just one of those frustrating moments carp fishing throws at you.

Afternoon Frustrations

The following afternoon, the wind was gusting hard and the sky spitting rain. At 4:30 p.m., the right-hand rod tore away once more. The fight was messy, with the carp crossing my other line twice. Somehow, I freed the tangle and brought it under control—until, in a split second of misjudgment, disaster struck. While adjusting the net in the margins, the fish bolted, my clutch locked tight, and ping—gone. To add insult, the whole episode was captured on video. Not my proudest moment.

I rebaited both rods, spombed out the last of my bait, and moved the short-range rod further out, switching both to mesh bags. Time to reset for the night ahead.

At 5:52 p.m., the left-hand rod came alive. This time, I took no chances, playing it steady until another 16lb common slid safely into the net. Relief and satisfaction in equal measure.

Barely fifteen minutes later, at 7:05 p.m., the left-hand rod went again while I was mid-video. This carp headed wide left into dangerous territory, and sure enough, the line fell slack. Another lost fish—three down so far. That’s Airfield Lake for you: brutal one moment, brilliant the next.

Final Morning

The night passed quietly. I woke at 6:15 a.m., surprised not to have had a single beep. Strange, but not unusual here—the carp are nomadic, often vanishing for hours before suddenly crashing all over the place. On past trips I’ve blanked until the final morning and then landed a string of fish, so I kept faith until the last minute.

By 8:30 I was slowly packing away, rods still out with hope lingering. But nothing more came my way.

Final Score

• 4 carp landed – topped by the 20lb 6oz mirror

• 3 lost fish, one or two of which felt like better ones

Airfield Lake never gives up its carp easily. It can frustrate, enchant, and challenge in equal measure, but that’s what keeps me coming back. Each trip is part of the bigger puzzle, and with only six weeks left before it closes, I’ll be giving it everything.

Until next time,
Richard

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