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The Cripps was particularly enjoyable- shallow as a boy band and very weedy. Deadbaits were a dead loss frankly, but a quick throw with soft lures got some interest. It was one of those days though- lots of jacks, few properly hooked. Partly because it was so weedy I took the treble hook off the suspending Storm Shad they took a liking to.
The pattern seemed to be little clusters of pike with long empty spaces in between. Finally though, one pike stayed on, taken by dropping a deadbait in front of a fish that followed a lure in but wouldn't take. An utterly ballistic fight too for a fish of five or so pounds, a very skinny brute that looked in need of a few more roach for lunch.
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A long way from being a red letter day then- but what a fantastically peaceful place to roam. And on the walk back I saw the unmistakable shape of a barn owl swooping over the trees. Magical.
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