Christmas Jingle Bells to New Year Shingles Hell

Wednesday last (new years day) saw me feeling distinctly under the weather.  A little better on Thursday, but I still didn't feel right.  By midnight on the Thursday I was in fair discomfort and by Friday morning the severe rash confirmed my Shingles was back!!!! Scalp, Torso and Thigh, and scratching like a flea ridden dog.  Trip to the docs and a course of antibiotics. 7 to 10 days of discomfort ahead.

Paynes Bridge looking back toward Crab Apple and the Wharf

So I was sort of glad there were no real matches and no Pewsey Championship matches at the weekend. With the horrendous weather predicted I looked gloomily on the weekend ahead.  Feeling marginally better this morning and the rash(s) beginning to scab up, I realised the contagious part was over and perhaps I could go fishing after all.

Quick check of the BBC weather app on the phone showed a clear but cold morning with heavy rain from lunchtime onward. Didn't want to take the match gear, check on the bait situation, and decided to have another Roving Piking session.

After a wet day Saturday and a freezing clear night the roads were sheer black ice so I decided not to turn left after Tidworth and go over Everleigh way. It would definitely be Icy up there. So onward to Burbage and then down through little Salisbury and Milton Lillbourne. As I rounded the bend near the Bruce Arms, there was a Police Warning sign "Flood".  Not unusual considering is been raining harder than when Noah was around.

Ah! a little different this one. Long (100 mtrs+) and very deep looking.  Couple of cars at the far end looking distinctly nervous about attempting the pass.  One indeed was turning around.  Bugger cant be turning around myself, need to grow a pair and forge forward.  So with the water up over the wheels, the fan belt slipping like an eel and water coming in the foot wells of the Flyer. I ploughed on.

Water sprayed thickly over the windscreen as the bow wave billowed before me.  I was through, and whilst the flyer clearly didn't like the experience the revs stayed up and we motored on past Milk house water into Pewsey center. Bit of a dodgy moment at the first roundabout as the clearly wet brakes struggled to work; but I was in Pewsey.

So now where to go?  All the way there I had it in my mind to do Wilcot again, see if I could get the biggie I had seen on New Years Eve. Some how though I found myself at the Wharf.  Sub consciously I had wanted to Pike the Crab Apple stretch.  My brain was telling me the good weights seen at James Cartys end of year bash must mean Pike.  Plenty of food fish must mean Pike surely.

However, looking at the canal now my gut said no.  It was really thickly coloured and had about 10 inches to a foot of water on after the heavy rain.  Nevertheless I didn't have long before the rain so couldn't really waste time driving around foe something better. Should I go left to the bay and the flying pegs at the cables end, Gut said yes.  Brain said go right and up to the Crab apple.

I walked for around 20 minutes, past stacks of topping Roach and rolling skimmers, along very muddy banks and eventually to the other side of Pains Bridge.  I feel a bit guilty Pewsey has some great fishing and I feel I am robbing them paying so little for membership its a steal.

http://www.pewseyfishingclub.co.uk/  check out the fees and contacts.

 I started my way back , spinning plugging and dead baiting.  The morning wasn't too bad after all, walkers and mountain bikers struggled through the mud. The Coal Barge was plying their trade selling wood, diesel and Coal etc.  The Crows down in the fields behind cawed and cackled, and the sound of Church bells calling all to Sunday sermon. The local football team, the referee and supporting cheers drifted on the wind as the the team coached bellowed to "get the ball wide, right go on now skin him"

It was all very pleasant except there was no bites. I did try a variety of dead baits from Roach, crucian carp, smelt and Sardine through to Lamprey.  But nothing the same on the spinning gear , shallow and deep diving plugs as well as traditional and newer, wackier spinners and plugs but no joy.

Funny when your not catching how you mind drifts to negative things.  Suddenly the Shingles seemed painful, in fact very painful indeed.  Thoughts of home, a warm fire, Roast dinner and some soothing cream for the rash was enough to have me heading back toward the wharf.  You know what its like though, just one more cast. I suppose if I had scratched that other itch to catch a fish, and actually caught something I would have been on my way home already.

Back in the Wharf Pike Bobbin bottom right of Photo

So it was 12.30 and the rain was persistently coming down, as I stood under the bridge at the Wharf, willing the float to dip of the edge of the Narrow Boat Swedish Dreams moored in the Wharf.  But it didn't, I paced the dreary dark underside of the bridge, shingles giving me hell, but ultimately it was a frustrating blank today.

Should have listened to "gut" instinct today, watercraft knowledge told me it wasn't on today.  Still perhaps having had bad luck today, it will be good luck in the continuing Pewsey Championship next weekend.  See you there.