Seven up

      Well the weather changed, the ice has gone, but it is still cold and windy. As I arrive at the drain I realise I have left my landing net handle behind so it is unload the gear and return home for the missing handle. My pocket camera decided not to work too so that is changed, fortuitously, for the grubby Canon.
      The drain looks hideous, a mountain of weed trapped by a combination of wind and flow, it is about a foot thick and two hundred yards long and floating on the surface. To make things worse if the wind or strength of flow changes it will be all over the drain not compressed into a smallish area, try and get a bait into that if you can.
      Not a touch on the deadbait as I tackle up and catch some fresh silver bait fish, first cast with the fresh bait and a fish is on and then off within seconds. Second cast a jack pike of about four pounds. Better than nothing.

      Then in the rapidly developing rainstorm three more jacks come to the before another three larger pike breaking into double figures are caught. When I am unhooking the first fish I realise that the mat has been left behind too, organisationally the day is chaos but just play Mr Hendrix in your mind and enjoy the pike and the purple haze.
      The last pike to be caught takes his revenge on my hand and fingers when I realise that the all-protecting glove for the left hand has been blown into the drain.
      One bite for the pike so quit when you are winning, enjoy catching the magic seven fish, celebrate the three that threw the hook and go home in the dark for a well earned beer.
      The ice-age is over. Well it is for now anyway, so roll on Thursday.