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Pads Lake Plundered
ack in March, three
friends and I booked
six days fishing down
at Yateley Pads Lake
through the Cemex
office. This is the story
of that trip, of the fish we caught, and
the laughs we had along the way! The
four of us making the trip were Ady,
Mike, Paul and I. The night before
travelling down we all stayed at Ady’s
house where we watched Barnsley
knock Chelsea out of the F.A. Cup –
an unbelievable result, and a good
way to start the trip. Everybody loves
a giant killing (except for supporters
on the losing side!). After the final
whistle Ady packed (stuffed) his and
Mike’s gear into his van, and then we
ambled round to the local for a few
beers. Talk once inside was of all
things carpy, and how we thought we
would do. I went on the 1664, which I
must admit left me a little bit the
worse for wear when leaving the pub!
On the way home we ordered some
pizzas and Paul had a meat feast,
which may sound irrelevant, now but
bear with me! Back at Ady’s pad we
consumed the pizzas and drew
strings for choice of swim, which
would be a watercraft draw. I sat back
and watched as first Mike, then Paul,
pulled unfeasibly long bits of string
out of Ady’s hand. Right, my turn…
Well, if I tell you it would have looked
small on a midget, then I think you
will get the idea. So it was Mike, Paul,
Ady then me. Gutted. Anyway it’s off
to bed. I settled for the sofa downstairs, as if I had gone upstairs then
no one else there would have got any
sleep due to my 1664-induced snoring.
Despite the beer, 4.30am and I was
wide awake. I stumbled around in the
kitchen, made myself a brew, and
heard Paul come padding down the
stairs. We chatted for a minute or two,
then he was off to the toilet and
throwing up! Bit strange, I thought. I
didn’t think he was that bad after the
pub; I thought I was worst out of the
lot of us. Pretty soon we were joined
by Mike and Ady, and completing last
minute preparations prior to the off,
when once again Paul was away to
the toilet and throwing up, much to
the amusement of the rest of us. Vomiting completed, and Paul assured me
he wasn’t going to be sick in my car.
5.30am, and the Yateley-bound convoy was on the road. Originally we
were going to stop at Tibshelf services for a greasy breakfast, but following last night’s pizza and, in Paul’s
instance, the re-emergence of last
night’s pizza, we settled for a toilet
stop, leg stretch and a bottle of water.
It was at this point that Paul mentioned to us that he is allergic to a certain herb, and it appears it must have
been included in the recipe for his
meat feast, because he was now coming out in red blotches! We didn’t
laugh, honest!
After a quick stop in the petrol station where we did our bit for global
warming and floater fishing by filling
up the gas-guzzlers, we were back on
the road. A quick stop at the services
20 miles north of road to hell (M25),
and an hour later and we were entering the village of Yateley. If you’ve
never been to Yateley (as we hadn’t),
then what you probably won’t know
is that there are at least three
entrance gates to the complex of
lakes. After trying all three, Paul
insisted that he could not find a combination lock, which we required to
gain entrance. This was not looking
good, as it was Sunday, and the office
wouldn’t be open! We pulled into a
side street and wandered back up to
the first gate. Whilst trying to gain
entry, two guys informed us that we
wanted the next gate up. Once there,
and it became obvious pretty quickly
that one of the locks that Paul had
carefully inspected previously was
indeed a combination lock. Much
jeering and pointing at Paul then followed – nice one fella! Right, we were
in. First things first, we had a quick
chat with the guys just vacating the
lake, and it turned out that there had
been seven of them on for three days,
and they had had two fish; one upper20, and one lower-20 from memory –
not good. I was optimistic though,
and pointed out that we were there
longer, and there were going to be
fewer lines in the water. The weather
was also due to turn, with a series of
low pressures sweeping in from the
southwest. I am sure you can remember the storms and gale force winds
we had in mid-March...
We set off and did a lap of the lake;
one lap turned into three, and by now
we really needed to be making our
minds up about swim choices. It was
only on the third lap that we saw
some fish, a group of about five
milling about in a shallow area enjoying the sun. I for one though wasn’t
too bothered about these, as I was
sure they were just there for the sun,
and would spook easily if anyone
started throwing leads at them. For
me it was choice between fishing an
area that suited the conditions as
Welcome to Yateley.


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