Eleventh month. First pike

      It's November at last and it's that pike time of the year. Summer has moved into autumn and autumn is moving into winter. The water looks right, the weather feels right, the drains and rivers look beautiful and optimism is high.
      But, in truth this isn't the first expedition, I went out on a foggy Saturday afternoon last weekend with my son and we caught five pike in a few hours, we lost some in the abundant weed and missed a few good takes so the runes were cast and in a favourable position for today.
      Then the weather changed, the fog and mild damp weather disappeared. The wind blew from the north and last night we had the first real frost of the winter. Wednesday dawned and not a cloud to be seen anywhere in the sky and a northerly wind blowing. What more wouldn't you want? Oh yes, how could I forget, the water was calm and absolutely crystal clear too.
      Never mind Uncle Sam's boys and girls from the 48th Fighter Wing at Lakenheath were flinging their F15s around the Fenland sky and providing alternative aerial entertainment and even 'Bastard Barry' the Jack Russell Terrier from hell came and sat down next to me for a scratch and a stroke.
      That was a worrying development.

      Finally after two hours a slashing take on the roach deadbait, I missed it and the bait was gone, an hour later another violent take and run resulted in this lean pike in the net, photographed and quickly returned. A beautifully marked pike caught under horrible conditions but the mood improved and plans for the weekend are already being put in place. Ironically after a couple of miles of walking and fishing the pike come from precisely where I started. There's a moral in that somewhere.

      I absolutely love this time of the year.