The guys tackled up and we set about our business. None of us have fished the stretch before so it was virgin territory. The canal was nicely coloured only the water was cold.
One or two boats chugged through and all in all life was pleasant. As the start of our session drew close the bank tow path started to get busy; with woman, lots of woman!!
You will all know from from my previous blogs what a hunk of burning love I am; and I could not help notice how many of the ladies looked admiringly in my direction.
Well in my dreams I suppose. Actually I couldn't believe my ears. I should explain. The ladies were in fact all, apparently, members of the local Chippenham Running club.
Never have I seen such a variety of colourful and "tight" lycra. Of course all the lads were as polite as could be (hence I couldn't believe my ears). Morning ladies, nice day for it, c'mon through ladies no problem. Can I help you past etc etc. It was quite a sight, of course Lycra is very revealing whether its small pert ladies or larger more voluptuous type, every body part was on view and some of them not very well supported!
Some of the ladies flushed / blushed a little and and said thank you, this was received by our lot saying no no thank you, really thank you. It was time to get the lecherous crew back on their game. C'mon lads concentrate. There were a few mumblings about going of to polish their poles but in general it was game face on.
Whistle for the start, and we all tried a variety of methods. Fishing took over from fantasy and a successful day got under way. It was marred by increasing towpath traffic. Some of the bikes rip along and the riders have no manners at all impatient rude and a bunch of idiots really. Talking idiots there was the occasional bloke running the path, posing and looking at themselves , kissing their biceps, you get the type.
One particular idiot came along in mirrored sunglasses. His mirrors must have been on the inside of his glasses so he could look at himself. He certainly wasn't looking where he was going at the next peg to me as he stood on Derek's pole and snapped it. He did offer some sort of apology saying he didn't see it but that's no good to Derek. Of course he didn't see it he was too busy looking at himself, twat.
One particular idiot came along in mirrored sunglasses. His mirrors must have been on the inside of his glasses so he could look at himself. He certainly wasn't looking where he was going at the next peg to me as he stood on Derek's pole and snapped it. He did offer some sort of apology saying he didn't see it but that's no good to Derek. Of course he didn't see it he was too busy looking at himself, twat.
We stopped after awhile to compare notes on tactics, everyone including birthday boy Chris Rushton had caught and useful tips were exchanged. We then went on for a few more hours but eventually we succumbed to the tide of sun worshippers filled the towpath with defecating and swimming dogs, kids throwing stones and sticks into our swims and more an more cyclists. If this is what you get when you tarmac the towpath, long may Pewseys pathways remain muddy.
All in all a successful day with Danny topping it with a lovely big Billy Perch.
We all caught and look forward to going back for more practise and the match itself.
See you next week at the inaugural Pewsey Pairs match back on home water.
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