Marching on

I carried on visiting my favourite place through February and March. The fishing was hard but I managed to catch a few and loved every minute. And now the traditional fishing season has come to an end, no more visits to the special place for a few months now.

So it's time to look forward to the spring and summer, hopefully I'll have a little more success with the Tench this year and maybe one day I'll lose my self appointed tag as the worlds worst Tench angler. Or maybe not.

This weekend just past I found myself with a couple of hours to spare and just had to go fishing. Well to be accurate I'd had a few too many the night before and prescribed myself a bit of fresh air and a chill out session. The fishing shed was a dis-organised tip, no Tench gear anything like ready to fish with so I picked up my bank fishing kit, grabbed a couple of deadbaits, filled a flask and set off.

Half an hour later I was relaxing in a chair at 'The Pool' with a paternostered Pollan covering the open water and a float legered Herring dropped in the margins, in front of a reed bed. The signs of spring were all around, not only was the temperature hitting a heady 11 degrees but there was blossom in the hedgerows and green buds beginning to show on some of the trees. The first green reeds of the year were also pushing their way up through the margins. As much as I love winter Pike fishing its nice to enjoy the warmer weather and more vibrant colours. Warm weather fishing is so much easier all around.

The fresh air was doing me good, the easterly breeze in my face was keeping me awake and I was starting to feel almost human. It may sound odd but I'd forgotten I was fishing, when all of a sudden I was startled into life by the sound of an alarm, the float on the Herring rod was moving along the margins away from me. I quickly wound down and bent into a fish, for once the rod stayed bent! A decent fish plodded up and down the margins showing no intention of going in the net. She surfaced with a flare of the jaws showing a larger than expected head. Soon I had her in the net, then onto the mat. A nice fish that would have weighed a few pounds heavier pre spawning.

I sat back with a smile and promptly forgot I was fishing again. Sadly I wasn't interrupted by any more bleeping alarms as I enjoyed another hour or so of fresh air and countryside. I couldn't help but be struck by the irony; maximum effort goes into most of my winter Pike fishing and here I'd had a nice fish whilst recovering from a hangover. Maybe I should do it more often?