A slight rise in temperature from 6 to 8 Centigrade and the promise of a dry afternoon from the forecasters, enticed me from a warm home onto the bank of my local pond to test out a rediscovered pole this week.

Stacked with roach, this old clay pit set in the centre of a public recreation ground, would be the ideal place to check the tension of the new No 6 elastic, that I had fitted through the top section. Too tight and it would bounce fish off the size 18 barbless hook, too loose and it would not set the hook. I had adjusted the tension back home in the workshop, but a session on the bread punch would allow a decent shakedown.

I chose a swim with my back to the open football pitch, where the wind was blowing the falling leaves over toward the opposite bank, good for fishing, but already getting chilly around my nether regions. This would not be a long session anyway, as starting after 1 pm, it would be too dark to see the float by 4.

Plumbing the depth, I found the drop off into deeper water 4 metres out, where I expected to find the fish. Setting my float just off bottom, I tried a cast with punch only. Not a touch. Earlier in the year the float would have sailed away, but now it just sat there. A small ball of liquidised bread changed that. Recasting over the slowly sinking cloud of crumbs, the float sank away. A firm strike and 4 inches of elastic came out of the pole tip as a small roach was lifted with minimal resistance from the water and swung to hand. It was like gripping an ice lolly. Frosty mornings and northern winds had reduced the water temperature dramatically since my previous visit and I expected a difficult afternoon.

The bites were slow to develope, the float settling, showing tiny dips, before holding down a fraction. I struck at every positive movement and was rewarded by a fish every time, most less than an ounce, but after a dozen small roach the elastic stayed down, when I struck as a better fish bounced its way to the landing net.

This was not as bad a session as I thought, yes the bites were minute, taking up to two minutes from fish to fish, but they were still coming. Another nice roach stretching out the elastic again before coming to the net.

In the first hour I had taken over two dozen roach, the smallest balls of feed keeping the fish interested, without filling them up. The wind was now increasing, causing my knees to knock, despite thermals beneath my jeans, but the float kept holding down and roach continued to swing into my numb fingers.

Another hour and the light was already on the wane as I topped up the white crumb for the final time, having used less than half a pint. With the float shotted down, it was becoming difficult to see the tip, the catch rate had gone up and down, but with 48 fish in the net, it was still a decent bag for such a cold afternoon. The quality of the roach also surprised me, with several around 4 oz.

I was trying to get to 60 fish before the two and a half hour mark, beating it by ten minutes. Enough was enough, my knees had almost seized up, the wind was gusting and due to a rapid drop back down in the temperature, I could not control my shivers, despite several layers of clothing over my thermals.

The new elastic set up had not lost a fish, the old pole with the bread punch putting 5 lb on the scales.