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I awoke Sunday morning to find a frost for the first time on the grass in the rear garden, the cars out the front of the house were frozen in a white cloak. It was 7.30 am and still dark so if I left fairly promptly I could be fishing in Epping forest by 8.30am. I only had three mackerel tails for bait in the freezer but I was eager to get out so I headed for Wake Valley Pond with my meagre bait supply. This Epping Pond is a water I have never fished but walked past many times before thinking it looked ‘fishey’.
In the end I was the only one there, no dog walkers, cylists or fishermen, it was a blissful cold and quiet morning and I was alone. Sometimes when the scene is this tranquil catching is not that high on the agenda so after an hour I left to look at some of the other Epping forest ponds. I drove around to Goldings but that pond was frozen over and clogged with weed so I headed home content but not before dropping in to look at Hollow Ponds which in hindsight was a mistake. The lake looked lifeless with its banks worn bare from the many visiting feet, not a place I shall try for a pike. Saying that, something suggested to me that lurking in this lake could be a forgotten soul, a lost thirty perhaps?