Get the kettle on mate, I'm gagging. Part one

4am arrived and on turning the key to the truck thoughts in my mind were of a virgin river to me.
The Warwickshire Avon was calling, but first I had to stop off and collect a certain Mr Beale.

As planned I drew up outside his shack at just after 4.30 and he waved me in for a brew!
Little did I know that this, my second brew of the day was setting the scene for the next 48 hours.
Let me explain, for those that do not really know me, tea is my second love......gallons of it can be consumed and I still won't get up for a pee in the middle of the night!!

Truck was loaded and we headed out of Milton Keynes bound for the M40 with no postcode, all we had was a field somewhere on the Avon where Mr Tref would hopefully be waiting with the kettle on!

One hour and twenty minutes later after black thunder was ragged off the clock and we drew up through a farmers field with only one vehicle in view, true to his word there he sat at two minutes past six waiting to greet us, "how are you boys"? "thirsty" I replied while shaking his hand.

This particular section Tref had been doing well off the past few weeks and from the off he started his confidence strategy, explaining the plan of attack for the next couple of days.

With the tea consumed and the time now seven(ish), Tref made the call to get tackled up.

Open ended feeders with a mix of groundbait and pellet, free running to a slightly longer hooklink than normal was completed with a size six hook and two or three glued pellets on the hair.
The plan was to feed small with the feeders and loose feed a dozen or so pellets with the catapult every 45 minutes or so depending on how events unfolded.

Eggs and bacon  were now singing in the pan, kettle was on and we sat back watching the tips as the water was running from left to right.

The day was pleasant with sunny spells but the wind was blowing straight at us, causing a ripple on the surface that made viewing very difficult to say the least.

Most of Trefs captures from this stretch so far had been in the afternoons, mainly between 1 and 5 pm and surprisingly nothing was occurring during the evenings?

Mid morning and the odd boat started to show , which in turn meant winding in, re baiting and focusing once more.
Tref would, in spells sit there and tell us one of his many tales, some recent some old but boy does he know how to tell them, as plenty of times both Steve and myself would be rolling around with rib ache.

That first day was indeed very quiet, but Tref kept us upbeat and encouraged us to hang in there, "the methods been good, and we just need a pod of fish to move through us" he said.

At six pm we lit the gas under Elaine's chilli con carne and whacked on the rice to boot!
I must just take this opportunity to thank her for this, and as Steve was feeling slightly under the weather this only meant one thing........I got more!!
A bottle of red completed our little snack and a relaxed manner was restored once more.

This set us up for the evening and lit the flames once more that just maybe we might be able to get Tref a barbel  in out of favoured hours due to the form book.
We angled on till roughly 10pm and all we managed for our efforts was a small chub for yours truly and a bream of about a pound for master Beale of which a certain Mr West found highly amusing.....................