February 17 - Kingsmead
It was another cold and breezy day but, encouraged by our luck ten days earlier, we decided to brave the weather and have another go at the Kingsmead pike.
Normally we set out as early as possible when going out for the whole day, but as we have found the pike to be most active in the mid to late afternoon, we were in no hurry. We also figured there would still be a decent choice of pegs... after all, how many other fools would be out there on a cold February day?
To our surprise there were several anglers set up in the car park pegs when we arrived. This required a re-think. We didn't want to fish the Helipad again, but we also didn't want to hike half way round the lake in the cold. Fortunately there was one nearby peg open and we settled in there.
It was a chilly but beautiful day at Kingsmead
We put out a couple of lines with dead bait and settled down to wait. That's the biggest part of fishing, the waiting. Patience is required, it's not a sport for those who can't sit still or immerse themselves in the natural world around them.
In quiet reflection Kingsmead is reflected.
The day wore on, we ate our lunch and Steve wandered off to talk to our fellow anglers. Crazy people, like us. They were all carp fishing and not having much luck, apparently the carp are not very active in the cold... but then neither am I.
I watched the birds... well.. that's not a fair statement.. I listened to the birds and wished I had a better knowledge of their songs. Back home in the States I had learned to identify most of the birds that lived in my woods by their songs and calls, here I am at a loss. Maybe in twenty five years time in the UK I will have learned to do the same here.
Boredom is never a problem for me, not with meadows, woods, streams and lakes around. The sights, sounds and smells relax me and I am more at ease than anywhere else. Time slips by, unnoticed and unimportant.
I watched the shadows grow longer.
At heart I am only seven years old. The world is a wonderful, magical place when seen through the eyes of a child.
Nothing is insignificant and the commonplace becomes uncommon...
Steve returned and we shared the water bottle. The report was that all was quiet, nobody was catching. But they were after carp... and we were after a fish of a different color.. literally.
After a check of the lines to make sure the bait was still there, we recast and settled in to wait some more. We'd barely gotten comfortable when the bite alarm went off. As Steve played the fish I could see it was a fair old lump and got the large landing net ready. After a short fight, I got her into the net and we knew we had a good one. She looked to be alomost the size of the old lady we'd landed ten days ago so we got the scales out and weighed her. Almost, but not quite, this Kingsmead pike was 20 lbs 4 oz... but hey, that's still a darn nice critter. A quick photo and Steve eased her back into the water, holding her until she'd recovered enough to power away.
20 lb 4 oz Kingsmead Pike
After that, it was time to head home, the sun was rapidly making its way toward the horizon. We'd done what we had come here to do, catch one of the big Kingsmead Pike. In all, it was a great day.