Opening up the account

First session of 2024 and thought piking might just do it. River is now behaving itself, well as long as the sluice masters leave it be. Down to a row of features: bushes, with a straight section with old reed cover and a distinct shelf.  Sardines were at the top of the deadbait pic'n'mix bag at the bottom of the freezer so that would be the bait choice today. Walking down the feeder stream to the stretch I'd seen this cold dead killer's eye staring back at me.  One that won't be terrorising the dace shoals when it grows up.

I've had those poplars as an angling backdrop now for over 30 years now, marching purposefully along the flood plain.

Lunch was missed so this hot, thick tomato soup was called for, thick enough to hold the freshly cracked black pepper in suspension for every small cup full, little bursts of heat which were needed as the cold began to settle over the plain, a change in the weather was beginning to have effect. 

Sardines, halved of course were poked into likely looking spots as  I worked down the stretch, willing the rod tips to nod or the orange domed floats to bob. 

It wasn't a nod or a bob but something grabbing the sardine head as I picked the rod up to make another cast. Must have only just managed it as one treble was visible in the top jaw once I'd got the fish  near the net. Leeched up on one flank only, the pike was  fat as butter but not fat enough to get the scales out for.

No more action and I contented myself  watching a pair of buzzards over the ridge whilst the magpies bickered and an earnest looking chubber passed me for a few hours into dark. The wet mat by this time beginning to stiffen up and a frost felt imminent. Back to the charabanc time.