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We had been casting all day in the cold weather without seeing a fin, and the fact that we had been casting streamers on 8 weight rods did not make it lighter. As the sun began to set, a light haze fell over the water, and humidity was penetrating into the bones. My arm was aching, my mate looks discouraged and the prospect of a warm meal was appealing. Yet I kept on pushing the last cast one cast further. When I told myself: this is going to be the very last one. It resulted in a really good cast, landing 25 meters off the bank. I started reeling in the fly line instead of stripping it when I felt resistance on the other end of the line, a snag ... no, a BIG PIKE!!