Duration:36 hour road trip
Weather:Brass Monkeys for the most part
Bait:We had a bit of that.
Rigs:And some of those as well.
Results:36 hours, 900 miles, 3 takeaways, 2 tanks of diesel, 6 shatnav induced near death experiences, 6 cream buns, a gallon of beer, oh and a few fish as well.....
Report:
Following a call from JP the week before, a plan was hatched to take the SAI posse international and head North on what was to be probably the last road trip of 2008 and fish the CBARSAC open in Waterfoot in Antrim. We had organised to head firstly over to Donegal Town to join the Ivory fella, Pete McG and Boycie in a few pre comp pints and travel to waterfoot from there on the Sunday morning. Lunchtime saturday rolled around, the JP fella arrived and with the gear loaded we set off north following a brief maddie gathering stop off en route.
We made the decision to travel up via Dublin, albeit a longer route but with the massive improvements in the road network recently, it made sense. Snackbox and cream bun stop in Abbeyleix and suitably refueled the journey continued. It seems you are not permitted to spend a weekend with JP these days without it involving uncharacteristic feminine leanings toward shopping..... This one was no different and a 60 mile detour over to Derry resulted with being greeted by hordes of lowering shutters.... Too late Boy... Somewhat relieved at not being dragged around shops "does my bum look big in this" "yes, you've a massive arse...." etc we continued on to Donegal Town, the journey punctuated by some amazing dance moves from the passenger seat as 2FM entertained our aging selves with a barrage of old school dance tunes. The gibberish spouting and war dancing were probably directed attributed to the fiddling around we did with a garage coffee machine in order to obtain double and triple espressos.... PM for info on how to do this....
A quick shower and a catch up on the days proceedings from Sean and Boycie who had been fishing connemara in the final of the Last Man standing and it was off to the Pub. Pete McG and Smithy, a mate of mine, joined us for what was probably the most important stage in proceedings.... The pre match pints.....
Of course, with the thought of an 8am rise and lengthy journey to Waterfoot the following morning you would think we would have shown some modicum of sense and decorum.... Alas, with the wise old sage that is McGroary doing a runner early doors, that was not to be. With Mammy safely tucked up in bed, the drink and craic flowed way past what was healthy for such an early start. All too soon however it was chucking out time, another snack box (fried chicken is the food of champions...
) consumed on the way home and into bed.8am came around way too soon and it was a sensitive, much quieter group that assembled back at Seans place for the next leg of the journey. With temps reading -3 and -4 we set off, confident in Shat Navs ability to find the best road. Coming through a blizzarding, snow filled Barnesmore Gap wasn't the best start to be perfectly honest however and as the journey continued, things got progressively worse.
I am convinced Shat Navs are equipped with not 2 settings, shortest route and fastest route. Oh no, there appears to be a third one that kicks in just when you don't want it. Challenging Route. Well, thats what it felt like as we lurched along umpteen miles of black ice covered B road madness. 6 times that Jeep took a turn for the hedge before being wrestled back as conditions were proving to be pretty much as bad as they could have been. Wheel spin in third gear, traction control and abs kicking in all over the place, 4wd engaged not making a hoot of difference... oh this journey had it all.
The sheer terror induced by trying to steer and guide us along these roads was not being helped by my two passengers who were either failing to comprehend the gravity of the situation and the likelihood of getting killed or were still too drunk from the night before to care. Either way, it wasnt helping and it was time for some payback......
Folks, cream buns, Snackbox breakfasts and suppers, Beer, Shots, Vodka and red bull have a somewhat profound effect on the ability of a chap to, how can we put it, amend his atmosphere. Well, if I didnt have the lads clawing the air and frantically reaching for the window buttons once, I did it 20 times... 
With them gasping for breath and howling for mercy we eventually arrived in Waterfoot in good time for check in.Nobody obviously notified the local supermarket however there were likely to be a troupe of hungry anglers in town and it was a rather poor offering we emerged from the shop with for brekkie. Boycie had a Jamaican ginger cake and myself and JP had discovered something that apparently passed in these parts for sausage rolls... Hmmmm, it was going to be a long afternoon.
Following a delay of an hour due to some pegging issues I believe, 1pm rolled around and it was down to the fishing. Boycie had drawn the best peg of the 3 of us, sited down near the stream on 8. I was near the middle on 39 and JP, far enough away to begin to recover his breath on 70. Calm conditions and a lot of weed did not inspire much confidence but with a variety of flattie rigs weighted and baited it was lines in and game on. Fishing was slow wehre I was but a small trickle of little flats turned into a flood after about 2 hours. I was having no problem finding fish but it was a bugger getting them to make size. As time rolled on, and with around a dozen undersized and 3 making the 20cm limit we headed into darkness. 3 counters seemed to be as good as most around me and I was looking forward to the expected onslaught of whiting, coalies etc.
Well they came along in droves, however, someone neglected to tell them there was a 20 cm limit today and not a one I had was making the stick. Whiting and codling.... I'd never seen a 12cm codling before today.... Heartbreaking stuff, especially given the decent position I had going into darkness. It seemed the biggest fish on the beach was actually the mack McGroary had kindly provided that morning in my bait bucket. Disappointed and weary the whistle went and it was all over. A quick call down the line to JP revealed he had fared no better finishing with 2 counters. Boycie however had had a field day on peg 8 and had 7 fish to the stick to put him in serious contention.
With a long drive ahead of us and the delayed start already putting us an hour behind schedule, we made the decision to organise someone to pick up the prizes on behalf of boycie and we hit the village takeaway to stock up before setting off. Every shred of sterling was pooled and counted and used as, stumbling under a load of grub enough to feed a street we chowed down and hit the road. The call came through 90 mins or so later to tell us that not only were myself and JP useless and failed to get anything but that Boycie had in fact cleaned up, taking 2nd in his zone, 2nd overall and the best Visiting angler prizes. Well done that man.
The rest of the journey was passed in a haze of jokes, stories, more farting and much slagging and at 2 am or so after having dropped boycie back to his door in Dublin, we eventually reached home in Cork.
Amazing how much you can pack into 36 hours or so and it was 2 very tired fellas who stumbled into their beds that night. A cracking way however to spend a weekend and a big thanks to Seanie and Pete McGroary for putting us up (putting up with us) on Saturday night. Well done again to Boycie too on what was a great result for the man. Heres to 2009.....
.... well done lads sounded like great craic 
