Since I moved way out here I’d been studying the news for a place to fish freshwater, for black bass or trout.  One spot it seems was in the story about every week: Rock Climber’s Cove at Lake Perris.  Guys were using the big swim baits that resemble a stocked trout to catch double-digit bass.  The last report I read had the guide say he waits until later in the day when the wind blows a nice ripple across the water before he flips his plastic. 

    I checked a few places around town for the lures.  Everywhere I went their tackle departments had swim baits but not Ospreys or Castaic Softbaits in five-inch like I like.  All the bins marked as such were empty.  Finally the Murrieta Wal-Mart had three Softbaits left in the four-inch variety at $18.97 including tax.  That was $3 less than at Sportchalet.

    The gate to Bernasconi Beach opens at 7am.  A quick hike to the left had my Power Bait soaking in the cove by 7:30.  Then came the lure, cast after cast.

    The water was very glassy considering the boat traffic.  For a half-hour I was flinging from a sweeping point well away from any of 15 of them in sight.  That was until these two guys under full power aimed right for me, killied their engine, cast out, then asked, “Catch any?”  I said no while thinking, get away from me.  A little later I made a big cast, a resounding whoosh and SNAP, there went lure #1.

    I tied on another baby-trout look-alike and found I had this side of the cove to myself for the most part, of course keeping an eye where the boaters were casting and not.  One by one they departed.  I rock-hopped over.  Seems the buoy-line side of the cove was deeper which is what you want when using the big jig with the three-quarter ounce lead head.  I flung to spots I didn’t see the previous angler cast.  An hour of Power Bait and the lure produced nothing for me except… loss of a Softbait #2 to a rock.

   Down to one left I made a conscious effort to reel it in a little faster.  I spent another hour walking the shore, casting the lure here and there back to the truck.

    After lunch I checked out the area to the right of the parking lot.   I thought the breeze would pick up.  Never did.  The lake’s surface stayed summer-like glassy all afternoon.  I walked over where the willow trees lined the bank.  I pitched and tossed the lure skillfully in and out of the stick-ups.  A lot of fishin’ but not a lot of catchin’, unless you consider fate catching up with me.  Yup, a big tangle on a tree branch poking up just above the surface.  I broke it off hoping one of your friendly float-tubers would waddle by, maybe undoing #3 and tossing it back to me.  After a while it fell into the water and the tubers went the other way.

    I Texas-rigged a purple six-inch Power Worm, working it in and out of the willows, all the way back to the beach.  At one point I cast from a huge boulder keeping an eye on all the boaters.  From what I saw all day nobody caught anything.  It was fun watching the B-52s from March Field circle around, anyway.

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