Wednesday 9 September 2015

Couple of Cheeky sessions, gotta do it.....

As I am on leave and the sun continues to shine , I have been fitting in the sessions around the demands of D I Y and those of the wife.  So its been a couple of cheeky little sessions. First yesterday, no camera and all the paraphernalia, just a waggler rod - Normark Microlite landing net pint of maggot  bag of ground bait something to sit on and a catapult.

Mix up ground bait and ball in and the clock starts ticking on the three hour session.  Wife in town  and expecting punctual collection, so it was great pleasure after three Rudd the first of the slabs is given up by Barnmoor.  A steady pinging of a few maggots every cast sees the rhythm pick up and its skimmer, skimmer, rudd , roach and Bream.

The hands on my watch move with incredible speed and my meagre bait allocation is wearing thin.  The old Microlite and the Diawa Theory reel are working in perfect symmetry and seem made for the task.

The waggler lands like a butterfly with sore feet settles and slides away and the rod hoops over.. and the hook bites into yet another slab.  Some of them come in, in the traditional wet paper bag style, others dare to pull back or even get air-borne.

A bleep or two from the phone. Signals the end of this almost Zen like meditation session. As I am informed her ladyship is ready for collection. As I load the flyer to head off on chauffeur duty, the phone bleeps again. This time its Kev the Bread.................................................

Session 2

..........................The second bleep was most fruitful as Kev the Bread was up for a session at Milk house.  Told the wife a white lie and explained I was sure I had told her the session had been long planned and I couldn't let a mate down having given my word (Pinocchio nose getting longer).  So 9 am saw Kev and I on milk house, him with his Bread and Squat and me with big baits only , worm and Maggot.

A walk up the stretch and we settled on a couple of pegs and started about setting up.  Before long we were in and both catching. Almost immediately the Pike were there sending the roach skyward.  Kev was into a Hybrid quickly as was I .  He landed it I didn't. We were both in again straight away, with me landing and him losing it; and so the day went a most pleasant session. Punctuated with lovely fish.  A run of Perch topped of by this fighting Warrior.


Up and down it took me before angrily coming to the net.  The boats were coming now and one particular Pikey was annoyingly fast causing huge bow waves which smashed into the bank side eroding them far quicker than they should.  You can imagine the look I got when I asked him to slow down. - imagine you sniff a foul smell and look at your shoe to find you have stood in dog shit.  Now imagine the look on your face. That's how he looked.  He also looked like that when he came back the other way 20 minutes later going even faster brainless twat.

As I lowered the rig into the Tsunami that followed him, it slid away and a lovely pound roach was soon shining up from the net.


One boat too many was enough for both Kev and I and we packed up having both had a successful day. Both of us had had 4 hybrids as well as a stack of small fish. I have been trying to think of a collective term for Perch, so it was probably my "swagger" of Perch that gave me the edge over Kev, not that it was competition (Pinocchio nose now has a Bird perched on it)

We packed away then walked the canal to clear the swims for Saturdays open.  That done we drove home happy. As I crested the Pewsey Vale, three Muntjac Deer crossed in front of me.  The skulked head low like the family pet dog which has been chastised for the pile on the kitchen floor.  Delicately they leaped into the field on the left not realising that too would soon provide no cover as the combine would soon cross the road and remove the cover of wheat they now slid into.

Roll on the weekend, Canal Saturday and Lake Sunday................ its all been planned for ages wife honest..

No comments:

Post a Comment