All quiet on the West Norfolk front that is. Another afternoon of pike fishing into the sunset under the big Fenland sky and another tale of one run, a pike on, a pike off, a pike lost in the mountains of weed. At some point we must get a few consecutive frosts that will lay this weed low.
On this outing I was able to catch some fresh bait on brandlings but the roach and rudd were, in most cases, far bigger than I would use and were returned to the drain. Fishing for them seriously you could easily have taken a bag of fish that would have run into the teens of pounds with individual fish running up to a pound in weight.
Meanwhile the pike fishing is at a stalemate, although I am concentrating on an area that I know holds pike, zander and perch. I refuse to charge here, there and everywhere hoping to find fish.
Back to the trenches on the West Norfolk front again this week. I hope it's not quiet.
