By 10am we’d landed in a suburb the name of which evades me. We stalked ultra-spooky carp at puddle depths, and for a moment I wished I had a 4-weight in hand.

It hit me on before we embarked to the next venue…Reynolds is driving a yuppie mobile!

I began conjuring as many quasi-insults as I could, the plan being to hold my tongue until the moment was just right.

Then we hit a stinky, murky, carp-infested stillwater if there ever was one.

At which point I came up empty handed. And the driver did not.

MG signing off (thanking my lucky stars I know how to keep my fat trap shut)