A few days ago I called Breakwall Dan to check his interest in another Monday morning fish trip. He asked where. I replied same ol’. In regard to the Breakwall Crew’s dismal results these past months, he retorted hang on there, I wanna catch some fish this time. Let’s try freshwater. I wondered what he had in mind. Topping his list were Irvine and Corona Lakes. Selfish me, I chose Corona since I reside only a few kilometers away.

    After a quick stop at the on‑site bait shop for nightcrawlers, we parked along the shore as close to the dam as we could without bugging any of the other fifteen‑or‑so lawnchair fisherman stationed nearby. At the back of a smallish inlet I started with the standard floating cheese rig, made with four-pound-test all the way up, using rainbow glitter Power Bait molded around a #14 treble hook. I cast way out there then stuck the unit in a rod holder. Next the lure launching lurched forth.  I slung the eighth‑ounce gold Kastmaster out as far as I could using my other set‑up.  With a cover charge of sixteen bucks per head they better allow everyone to use two poles.

    At his house poor Danski could find only one of his two trout rods.  Right away he put it to good use by dunking a bottom rig with an inflated nightcrawler buoying a size 10 baitholder hook about three feet up from the weight.

    Dang, I lost my spoonplug on an undetermined underwater snag in only twenty casts. Last week after our rains, the lake looked as if it were full of chocolate milk. I was surprised the water cleared so fast. Still, you couldn’t see deep enough to detect where all the fatal stick‑ups were positioned. In my mind I fantasized that management’s coming in after the lake closes and using a 4X4 and a grappling hook to pull out some tree decorated Xmas style with gold and silver, red and green… lures, that is.

    While my PB rig was soaking, I set up my ex-lure-caster with half of a nightcrawler suspended three feet under a small bubble float painted red. I filled the float medium‑way with water before casting.

   Moments later in reaction to hearing one tiny ring I jetted over to my other pole. I unclipped the bell, gave the line some slack, then watched as my offering went racing out. I tried to set the hook, but nothing.

    I walked the four steps to the back of the truck to re-bait. I reached for the jar but instinctually looked back, noticing the bobber I had just tossed out was gone. Like lightning I was on it with a medium retrieve. I wasn’t worried about breaking the line with the little oomph I used to set the hook. The night before I spooled up with Trylene’s latest and greatest six‑pound monofilament, which has a diameter of their regular four‑pound. Without much resistance I netted a fat rainbow trout weighing slightly under two pounds.

    I said for me that was a sixteen-dollar trout. Speaking for the group, Dan made a correction by suggesting it cost thirty‑two dollars.  If that weren’t a motivator to fill a limit...

    By seven‑thirty our combined catch could have been prorated at $16. That was until my partner lost a hook‑up to a broken leader.

    Now and then you would see someone dart over to their rod, which most of the time resulted in them landing something. One dude in particular had one hell of a fight on his hands with an ultra‑light set­up. A crowd gathered abuzz to witness the landing of what was to be the day’s first ten‑pounder. A loud sigh of disappointment overcame us as it turned out to be a four‑pound carp that had given him such the sorrowful struggle. Of course it was let go. You’ll never find a carp muncher amongst the trout troops.

    By now Dan has decided the hot tip to many landings is to run over to your rod when you see a nibble, no matter that you’re standing only three feet away. I said yes, in my 37‑year career of trout fishing, I as others have encountered much success while using such a rig, by running over as opposed to acting nonchalantly. In fact in the next hour I demonstrated almost exactly how it is to be performed. Hustling over to four dings of the bell and lines going out, I recorded a fifty percent success rate by catching two rainbows, with the largest eyeballing in at two pounds. Now we’re down to $10.66 per. I ranted on about how great a bait fisherman I am.

    Just a joke, folks.  No greatness is required to hook-up in this ten‑acre pond full of hatchery‑raised trout.

    As I was walking around to the point -- towards four other trouters -- trying to unhook my second bait rig from the submerged log I twice snagged, one in the group offered to scoot over a few feet so Dan and I could cast out into the main part of the lake even further.  He saw we were slinging our baits from the back of the inlet twenty feet past where he could from the spit of land he tossed from. I thought for sure this kind gesture would improve our chances, but in an hour and a half our efforts combined for nil.

    I remembered it to be ten o’clock when it was apparent the fish on the parking lot side of the lake went back to sleep. Dan pointed to the other side, saying we should fish over there, that those steep rocks sloping into the water would be where he’ll nail’em.

    We visited the lake store for more supplies, drove over to the picnic grounds near the delta, then hiked an easy quarter mile over there. Dan was right! In only thirty minutes he hooked up for a landing. This reel‑crank was his moment of glory, of him telling the world how he had a revelation about this spot to be where the fish are, as if he were possessed by the Great Ouiji or something. I swear he was, he was!!  No more than an hour later he caught another using the same floatin’ ‘crawler rig.  He didn’t even have to run over, since his rod holder was at the ready right between his legs as he sat on a rock.

   Near the end of the day our five keepers portioned out to be $6.40 per trout.  Not bad compared to a Sierra run.

   At the house I filet two of them, cutting out the lateral bones, producing enough cartridges for two tacos each. At Rubio’s I think you can get twice that many for the money.

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