Tuesday, 1 December 2015

Jurassic Lake

I'm awake again before the alarm and without waking the wife, the cars loaded and I'm on my way.

The morning is dark, well it would be at 05:30 and I'm on the drive to the Jurassic lake full of hope and excitement that the lure of a new water brings. This will be only my four trip to the lake and only the second occasion that I fished for old esox on here.

I pull into the entrance  to the lake just as the sun is starting to rise and the headlights catches an owl on the path as it lifts off into the gloom. I bumped along the track and park up for a mooch about.

The wind is on by back today and I know roughly where I want to be, but alas two bivvy's block my way. I venture around the lake into the wooded area that not many looked to have fished. I find a likely looking bay just before the spit and start the process of setting up. 

The morning was cool and still as the first bait splashed down into the water some 10 yards out into  a weed bed, it sent ripples across the surface breaking the mirror. The second rod was baited with a popped up mackerel tail  and was cast to the edge of a gravel bar with the hope that this feature would entice a take for a patrolling pike.
The third rod was to be the drifter, but with the lack of wind, I didn't think it would drift too far from where it landed.

The swim was cramped, so there was no need for the alarms on two of the rods as they had floats attached. The middle rod did have a back biter on it, but that was to ensure I could see any drop backs. It was turned off, but the sound was off. If the arm did drop, the light would be triggered anyway.
With the rods out it was time for a cuppa and breakie, so with the usual porridge in a pot ready and the kettle boiling I was soon sitting back enjoying the brew with the porridge.

With breakfast done and dusted, the rods recast and the drifter float finally catching the breeze, I started to get abit restless and found myself scanning the lake for signs of life. Apart from the plentiful bird life both on the surface and in the bushes around the lake, the water its seemed lifeless.
Not a dimpling roach or a crashing carp to lift my mood and I started to feel twichy about the swim choice, perhaps it was the claustrophobic nature it.

Morning soon passed to midday and the heaven's opened. I hastily put the brolly up and I huddle beneath it as the rain got heavier. This is not good piking weather.
The rain continued and my moody was dropping quicker than the rain drops, but I spied some movement on the backbiter, surely no pike just the affects of the rainfall, but then the arm of the alarm dropped and the yellow light was illuminated.

The line was peeling off of the spool at a rate of knots so there was no need for a strike, juts close the bail arm and tighten up. The rod took a bend and a fish was hooked. After much thrashing and tail walking a low double was in the net.

She or he, was soon laying on the mat and whilst they liked the heavy rain, it was not good for the the camera. Quick snap for the blog and back she went.
I don't know who was wetter, me or the pike.

With the rod rebaited and recast, it was time to return to the shelter of the brolly and they is where I remained for the rest of the day bar recasting the baits.

This lake has been good to me so far with a few low double, but does it hold anything bigger? We will see.

On a side note, I been writing a few pieces for the PAC Pikelines quarterly magazine. One is a diary piece on my season afloat and the second a piece "Keeping it Simple", perhaps in a month or so I added the to the pages on here for all to read.


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