All quiet on the western front

      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.