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Skoda

Too Darn Hot

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Last Wednesday, the day England stumbled into the last sixteen of the World Cup, I returned to the small lake where I have vowed to catch a double figure carp. Whilst driving there I listened to the match on the Radio, England scored, which I considered a good omen.

It was a hot, still afternoon. The lake was covered in a dusty film; there was one other angler who I decided not to disturb. For the first time this year I was focussed on fishing. I tackled up my one rod, a 1½lb TC Fox barbel rod, with a centre pin reel loaded with 9lb line; a small Arlesey bomb and a size 12 Korum QuickStop hair hook. The swim was in the shade, and I was hidden from where I was casting by some reeds. I alternated pineapple boilies, halibut pellet, and luncheon meat for about two hours without luck but convinced I was on the right track. Three families of geese practiced formation swimming as the sun dipped behind the bushes.



Glen arrived and set up in the swim he fished last week. A little later, around six, Micky turned up and set up in the swim between us. This is the first time we’ve fished together since last September.

At about half-six I had a bite and reeled in an eight ounce roach, which had taken a cube of luncheon meat bigger than its cake-hole! Later on Glen - who had cast into the island - entertained us by breaking his rod trying to retrieve his tackle! I think it’s a technique known as An Ivan (Krackoff).

“Never Mind!” he said “It’s a good reason to buy a new rod!”



Last chuck in at about Nine, I’d thrown in the last of my luncheon meat, and a few more pellets and was packing up when I noticed the tip pull round and the reel began to rotate. I struck quickly and played a wriggly little tench of about ten ounces into the net. I still hadn’t caught the double figure carp I was after but I’d fished a lot better. There’s hope yet.



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