This winter has been extremely hard going for me for many reasons, and as the months dragged on, I found myself questioning how many more years I could continue enduring these harsh conditions. I remember back in November, as the temperatures started to drop, I was already contemplating whether my body could still cope with the relentless cold. Turning 60 this January has made me reflect more on the physical challenges that come with winter fishing, and it has become increasingly apparent that my tolerance isn’t what it used to be.

Back in the 1980s, I used to go pike fishing all winter long without a second thought. Back then, my excitement and determination were enough to push me through the freezing conditions. However, my feet have always suffered from the cold, no matter what footwear I tried. Over the years, I have spent a considerable amount of money searching for the perfect boots or thermal socks to combat the issue, but nothing has ever truly worked. It wasn’t until recently that I realized the root of the problem wasn’t just the cold—it was the fact that my feet sweat. This moisture creates the perfect conditions for my feet to freeze, and once the chill sets in, there’s simply no way to warm them up properly.

To make matters worse, being on blood thinners has exacerbated this issue to a whole new level. The medication impacts my circulation, making my extremities suffer even more than before. It’s not just my feet that are affected now—my hands are also struggling to cope with the cold. Even with gloves on, I find myself battling against numbness and discomfort, and as any angler knows, having limited dexterity in your hands makes things incredibly difficult. Handling tackle, baiting up, tying rigs—it all becomes an arduous task when your fingers feel like ice. It’s frustrating because fishing has been such a significant part of my life, and I hate to think that these physical struggles might start dictating when and how often I can get out on the bank.

I have always prided myself on pushing through tough winters, but this year, I found it especially difficult. I fished right up until the New Year, but then an extreme cold snap hit, and even getting into the car felt like a mission. I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge, but there’s a fine line between determination and self-inflicted suffering. I have an appointment with a consultant at the end of February to discuss my medication, and I can only hope that some adjustments can help me manage the cold better. Unfortunately, whatever the outcome, it’ll likely be too late to make a difference for this winter season.

January has always been a difficult month for me in terms of fishing. I never fish in the first week due to various family commitments, and it’s also the time of year when my car is due for its annual service. This year was no different, and on top of that, I found myself back at the dentist again. It almost felt like history was repeating itself from last year, and I knew something had to change. The new year should feel like a fresh start, but instead, I found myself bogged down with the same obstacles.

After much consideration, I made a tough decision—I was no longer going to force myself to fish in sub-zero temperatures during daylight hours. Sitting in a bivvy, wrapped up in my sleeping bag for three days straight, just to avoid the biting cold, wasn’t my idea of enjoyment anymore. I love being out there, but when the discomfort outweighs the pleasure, it’s time to reassess. I came to terms with the fact that, for me, winter fishing is only feasible when the daytime temperatures are at least approaching double figures. If there’s some sunshine to accompany it, even better. I need to be able to move around, to feel like I’m actively fishing rather than just enduring the elements.

It wasn’t until mid-January that I finally made it back onto the bank. This isn’t uncommon for me—I often end up waiting until this point due to family birthdays and the usual car MOT and servicing. However, this time, my timing was spot on. The sun came out for all three days, and I’m convinced this played a huge role in making my session bearable. Unlike the dull, grey days that had dominated the season so far, these bright winter days made all the difference. I could sit outside, enjoy my surroundings, and actually feel a bit of warmth on my face. Even more importantly, my hands stayed warm, which was a massive relief.

Maybe I could get through this winter after all.

As January rolled into February, the struggle with my hands intensified. I had invested in some heated gloves, hoping that this would help take the edge off the cold. But with daytime temperatures still lingering below 6 degrees, my hands simply couldn’t cope. To make matters worse, when it wasn’t cold, it was raining constantly. This winter just wasn’t going my way.

Despite the miserable conditions, I held onto a glimmer of hope. Something inside me told me that spring was creeping closer. Even if the temperatures didn’t always reflect it, I could feel a shift in the air. We endured a couple of weeks of relentless grey skies, where it seemed as though the sun had completely abandoned us. Still, I’m sure we had a few brief moments of partial sunshine—it just felt like they were few and far between.

In the first week of February, I decided to visit the club lake. I managed a couple of takes, though, unfortunately, I lost one. Still, I had finally put a fish on the bank, and that was enough to lift my spirits. It might not have been a winter session filled with multiple fish, but that one bite was enough to reignite my motivation. Unlike previous years, I had also made the decision to take a break from fishing during the February half-term to visit family in Ireland. This was a change of pace for me, but it felt like the right thing to do.

Before heading off on the trip, I managed to squeeze in another session. The conditions weren’t looking great—three or four nights on the bank with highs of just 6 degrees and persistent grey skies was going to be a test of my resilience. But just before I set out, I received some promising news. Three carp had been landed on the syndicate water over the weekend, and this was enough to tip the balance. My confidence was restored, and I made up my mind—this was where I needed to be. I would take each night as it came and move swims if necessary.

For me, the first of March marks the start of spring, and this year, that date couldn’t come soon enough.

As my last winter session wrapped up, I finally landed my one and only winter carp from my syndicate water. It was a moment of triumph, but also one of realization. Maybe my winter fishing is going to become more limited in the coming years. Maybe I need to accept that my hands just can’t handle the cold like they used to. It’s a difficult pill to swallow, but one that I’m slowly coming to terms with.

But now, with spring upon us, things can only improve. The days will get longer, the temperatures will rise, and the carp will finally be on the feed again. There’s something rejuvenating about the changing of the seasons—just knowing that warmer weather is on the horizon fills me with excitement.

I really hope this winter turns out better.

Until next time.

Richard

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