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)