A Pike Breaks The Stillness
Another 5.30 am and another lake and this time the mist was up early softening the lines of fence posts and hedgerow trees. I drove with the sun pushing long tinted rays through it all on the road above the lake which had disappeared under a weight of haze. I felt that overriding sense of anticipation I sometimes enjoy before arriving at the waterside as if the moment of that first cast is akin to the feeling of hooking a monster.
The view from the water’s edge was limited a little by the softness and bolts of sunlight, only the crested grebes cutting ripples in the distance gave any movement to the glass that lay before me. I was a little uneasy about throwing a lure into a lake that looked like it was expecting a sword. Out of respect I clipped on one of my balsa weight shifting minnows to give me some distance without beating at the surface.
I could have stood there all morning watching the light change and mist creep up over the fields but a flash struck at the lure and I was into a pike. It ran a little and then took to the air tail walking its way through the shallows until it calmed a little and I slipped the hook out while it was still in the water.
I worked my way along the bank as the display out on the lake gave way to the force of the day and a bright sun. The magic had gone. I missed another couple of tugs and watched the bow wave of a powerful fish chase down my lure and lunge only to miss it and roll at the surface. When I left the day had hardly begun………..