Penstock Pickers

It’s great when you’re at an age that all your mates are getting hitched and holding random bucks events when really, it’s just another chance to get away and do what we love doing while tipping in a hundred beers or so.

My mate Chenzo decided to hold a pre-bucks outing in the highlands and given the balmy, overcast conditions – Penstock Lagoon was chosen as a likely location for action.

This is Chenzo - We call him Chenzo

Five blokes, two boats, zero strippers and one very sick outboard engine. Mine began playing up so after the umpteenth pull we voted that the other boat could simply tow us into position and we’ll just drift with the wind. This worked well, as the angle of our dangle saw us only having to perform two tow-sessions. Rad.

Laneo and Woodley

There were mayfly duns popping fairly consistently, but the fish were only up on them heavily on two occasions. The rest of the time they were just picking off the odd suspect and disappearing, making it difficult to track them – Especially the rainbows!

The duns were popping...

Me and Baldy could hear dirty old Laneo hooting on the odd occasion, clearly indicating success. Well that, and we could hear almost every word he said travel across the water! There were a few ‘Your mum…’ references.

This is Baldy - We call him Baldy

Meanwhile on our boat, we had missed a few takes on Emergers. The fish started to go a little nuts and I found myself hooked up near the boat. This fish stayed deep and just slugged away for a bit until it decided to run…. and run…. and run! Suddenly I feel the backing knot slip through my fingers as this fish starts to pick up speed. I started to palm the spool and had great delight in yelling out “I’m palmin’ him, I’m palmin’ him” (It doesn’t happen often!). I grabbed hold of the backing which started to burn my fingers when I thought I best start to put some hurt on this seven weight rod – It was already buckled over when I must have given too much and pulled the hook from the fish’s mouth. Silence…. and then optimistic words of some sort that I don’t recall. Upon reflection, they should have been swear words. Another good fish lost that I’ll continue to fight when I lay my head to rest each night.

Still I managed a little rainbow after this, and collectively we caught around nine between us with Laneo landing an impressive haul of browns and bows. He was essentially just trying to make for the last time that I kicked his arse. But it’s not about numbers is it? It’s about love and marriage…. or something. I guess a bit like the mayfly to the trout, eternally matched until the very world we live in ceases to exist.

Rainbow Pickers...

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