I wanted to fish the headwaters of the Santa Ana River near Highway 38 for stocked trout this morning.  Those plans changed slightly after I reviewed the DFG Fish Planting Schedule, which said the truck doesn’t stop there during winter.  Only spring through fall.

    Undaunted, I scanned their list of place names, finding they indeed put some engineered trout into a flowing waterway somewhat near me, Big Rock Creek.  I would have to reacquaint myself with the place, considering ten years have passed since the one and only time I visited.

    I drove up the road beyond the National Forest boundary, past a few cars parked along the creek, to a spot away from where all the other anglers were plying.  I hiked the roadway upstream a quarter mile then sneaked down through the scrub, positioning myself stealthily behind a tree.  I dunked into a riffle with a BB shot one of the small earthworms I dug up from around the house yesterday.  In mere moments I felt the tap-tap of a taker.  It was not a stocker, but a wild rainbow the length of maybe an inch.

    As I worked my way downstream back to the car I didn’t notice stocked trout in any of the pools or riffles I crossed.  However, I did manage to catch and release four more trout of the wild variety, with two of them measuring in at over six inches.

    The wild rainbows were beautifully colored with their parr marks, spots, gold and silver background and all.  Too bad the two snapshots I took turned out like trout pate.

    I drove back and parked where all the other anglers were.  As I worked the worm downstream I saw the creek here had more than twice the flow than did the quarter mile upstream I fished earlier.  Still, I saw no stocked trout hanging out in any of the crystal clear riffles or pools I surveyed.

    Alas I came upon a fairly large pool where I spotted my quarry.  There were at least ten stocked trout facing upstream, hopefully hungry and waiting for feed to come their way.  With my best technique and a two-pound leader I maneuvered the worm right in the face of five of them without any visible interest.  Okay, let’s try salmon eggs.  Ten passes with that bait resulted in the same non-response.  I molded on a chunk of power bait.  No engagement.  I tied on a hare’s ear nymph.  Not even the slightest curiosity.

    Well, I prognosticated, maybe I have to piss’em off.  I tied on a gitzit-style mini-jig, made it jerk up and down among them to finally draw half-hearted strikes.  They were basically interested in moving the jig out of their way, never coming close to impaling themselves onto the hook.  After twenty casts the fish seemed used to the jig in their presence, never giving it anymore mind.

    Okay, let’s anal-yze this.  In the L. A. Times this past Friday Big Rock Creek was listed as being stocked.  Fifteen anglers show up on Saturday morning.  The water is extremely clear and cold.  How cold?  Frigid enough that any tree branch or weed near water’s edge had icicles Dangling therefrom.  Overcast was the rule over the San Gabriel Mountains, with hardly a bright sunbeam melting its way through.  These fish were spooked by getting stuck in a freezin’-ass creek with a bunch of creepy fisherpersons bombarding them with everything but Purina trout chow, like their used to eating.  What will make them hit?  Probably a nice and quite Monday and Tuesday, with Wednesday and Thursday being bright, sunny and warm.  They should be ready to be caught Friday.  Or you could say it was a classic case of supply and demand.  There were more buyers than sellers.  The price went up, but not far enough.  Hell, I don’t know.  Actually the only thing I do know is that there will be no smoked trout for me this week.

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