Okay, so I went trout fishing in Orange County already.  I picked up Breakwall Dan, who lives one block over from Laguna Niguel Lake, this morning at 5:45 so that we could line up at the concession office for the $16 fishing permit at their opening time of 6 o’clock.

    Every other Tuesday they stock the lake with 5,000 pounds of hatchery raised rainbow trout from Utah, fish that have been reared in natural earthen races, unlike your basic D.F.G stocked trout born from concrete.  This keeps their fins from wearing down to nubs, preserving a spirited fight when hooked.

    Well, for New Year’s week, they stocked a day early, so now we were facing a morning after a five-day onslaught of Power Baiters depleting the supply.  Also there was a storm that had stalled out over Santa Barbara the day before, causing a lowering of the barometric pressure, a general bite killer.  One saving grace was the moon straight down at 08:10.

    We started our Power Baiting and lure tossing near the rear of the lake on the west shore.  Worms, P.B., Rooster Tails and Kastmasters produced nothing in an hour there, so off to the other side we went, over by the Yosemite Road tunnel.

    Last time I came here with Breakwalls Tim and Robert we fished this spot for limits by everyone.  Today, hoping for the same, I cast out as far as I could with a one-quarter ounce egg sinker, a wad of rainbow Power Bait smashed on a #14 treble hook tied to a two-pound leader connected to four-pound main line.  I put the pole in a rod holder and attached a bell and while the bait soaked I flung a small gold Kastmaster.  Dan had an inflated green nightcrawler on one set-up, tossing a Roostertail with another.

    It was like forty-five minutes later when I heard the bell attached to my bait pole jingle.  I lifted it out of the holder, saw a line going out and started reeling.  HOOK-UP, finally.  Once the hook was set, the thing took off, pulling line off the spool so rapidly I had to loosen the drag more than it already was.  As I guided it towards shore, the small line went through a gauntlet if dead tule leaf flotsam in the water.  This added to the drama of a safe landing as the long, monocotyledonous strands wrapped around the fish as I brought it to the net.  The rainbow had brilliant colorations and looked like a two-pounder but on the scale it weighed 1-8.

    I walked the twenty feet over to where Dan was monitoring his outfits to show off and gloat (as per usual), and to have him snap a pic.  With that done, I tied on another three-foot section of two-pound line and a fresh treble and recast to the same spot.  As I whipped the Kastmaster out there, reeling in with a slight jerk motion, I saw Dan’s pole twitch as if he had a bite.  He picked up the pole, waited for something to take the line out but nobody was home.

    At noon we made a beer run, then went back to the other side of the lake near the inlet.  Using all the aforementioned implements plus a chunk of nightcrawler suspended ten feet under a small Cast-A-Bubble, we had no bites before the storm came in and soaked everything.  Bye bye.

    I’ve had days like this in the Sierra where all day lots of rainbows are caught until the first storm cloud drifts over the crest, signifying a lowering of the barometer as a trough comes in.  All of a sudden there are no more bites.  What also meshed today was the fact that as soon as there were three fish on the Casio Forester Fishing Timer, at 08:10 moon straight down, I caught one and Dan had a bite.

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