My wife has been brilliant—letting me get the last two nights in on Meadow Lake, even with her on holiday and the schools off. That’s not something I take for granted.

I arrived Sunday lunchtime at an empty lake, greeted by reports that the carp had really slowed down. The weather hasn’t helped since I packed up on Wednesday—high pressure, cold northerly winds, and a biting wind chill. Strangely, it had swung round to a south-westerly this morning, but it’s due to push back north-west overnight and hold there through to Wednesday. Pressure is set to climb to around 1030mb, which is far from ideal, but with the lake closing, it’s a case of making the most of what’s in front of you.

After a slow drive around and a proper walk around the lake, nothing really stood out. In the end, I settled on a swim based purely on recent form—an area that had produced the majority of captures over the past week. The hope being the fish hadn’t drifted too far.

Baiting approach was simple but consistent: Jurassic Particles hemp and buckwheat, alongside 15mm EnerGize boilies and a scattering of Co-De Bites. Hookbait-wise, I went with a 15mm EnerGize corkie wafter on one rod, paired with a 12mm pop-up on the other, while the third rod was a white Blank Saver with a golf ball-sized PVA mesh bag. The plan was to let the first night dictate whether I’d sit on the rods for the full 48 hours or make changes.

The first night was as quiet as expected—not a single bleep. Given the conditions, it wasn’t a surprise. That said, with the wind now pushing more favourably into the swim, I felt quietly confident about the final 24 hours.

I held off making any rash changes, choosing instead to watch the water as much as possible through the day, hoping for a sign—anything to work with.

By 18:15, the day had slipped by, chatting with Ian over a steady flow of coffee. I topped the swim up with the last of the freebies, but was still undecided about recasting. The wind was pushing hard from right to left, making accurate placement tricky. In the end, I leaned towards leaving the rods undisturbed—on the basis that the fish may have already visited the spot and, given time, might drop their guard and feed properly.

The second night followed the same script—complete silence. If it wasn’t for the glow of the Delkims, you’d have sworn they weren’t even switched on. In truth, it was always going to be a tough ask: full moon, high pressure, cold northerlies, and a fair bit of angling pressure leading into the final week.

Still, I put the effort in and gave it a proper go. Sometimes that’s all you can do—and it’s exactly why we keep coming back.

I’m undecided on the next move. The forecast over the next ten days looks much the same, and the Airfield Lake rarely shines in these conditions. It might be worth slipping back onto the club lake for a few quiet nights before the summer crowds build—or even taking a short break and waiting for spring to properly kick in.

For now, I’ll sit it out until around midday and see if a late morning bite saves the session. Unfortunately, it was not to be.

Until next time

Richard

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