In search of the elusive stocked trout!

Received an urgent telephone call from the Lord of the Smallies yesterday. "Hello, can I help you" I answered despite knowing darn well that the caller ID read "L of S calling." http://www.finefishing.com/humor%20a...ages/t1900.jpg"Dave, Dave is that you? Are you there?" his majesty replied. Silence, "damn, I thought, Nextell strikes again." The Lord calls back, "Dave, get a new @#$%$ing cell phone, your's sucks!"

I heard that loud and clear, the Lord was, as usual out of breath. Self-abuse I figure, but I respond anyway. "Hello, can I help you?" His Lordship replies, "Dave, I need to catch a trout for the contest!" The Lord is part of some contest where you win a custom rod and tons of tackle if you catch the most species in a set period of time. The Lord continues, "they stocked the East Branch of the Perk, come with me this afternoon and I will catch a trout then we can go elsewhere for bass." I contemplate this for a short second and say. "Sure, why not." Figure if I sneak out before the wife gets home I could catch some bass, take the photos and she would be none the wiser.
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I tell his Highness to call me when he is done work and we will go. (To be fair I also tell him I might not be free until after 4 pm). I wait until 3:30 and then call the Smallie hotline. "Hello, Lord of the lunker Smallmouth bass" he answers. I ask if he is ready and he informs me that he is at the tackle store killing time. Oh no, I think, the poor tackle shop is probably empty and the owner is franticly calling suppliers to replace the inventory as the Lord does not shop lightly when it comes to fishing stuff. I go out side to wait for the Lord's arrival and see two things. First, a truck with a sign that says "Senko" on the side driven by Gary Yamamoto is hauling ass in the direction of the store. Second, and more importantly, my wife is home!. I duck into the bushes and act like a squirrel. I do not think she saw me, but she often pretends not to know me in public, so it is hard to tell.

The Truck of Fishing Karma arrives and we head to the East Branch armed with red worms and meal worms. Upon arrival, the Lord reveals a trout rod, rigged and ready to go. I pull out the same two rods that I always use, both with damaged guides and worn tips. The Lord asks "where is your trout rod?" I respond -"what? Trout rod, I do not own anything but these fine fish catching rods and they work fine." "No, no, no" the Lord replies, "you need a trout rod." I then patiently explain that I not only do not need a trout rod, I do not even own a trout. His Lordship appears disgruntled, but concedes the point.

We hit the water and I hook, but do not land, a smallie. Obviously the Lord has put the whammy on the SM Bass so they would only tease me by tugging on my bait. The Lord is frantically casting his trout get up, and explaining that trout are simple and he expects to catch one in a few minutes. I think, but do not verbalize (until an few hours later), that he has jinxed us for certain and I am doomed to spend the evening watching his Lordship chase trout shadows and catching sunfish.

I think that I must be psychic, because that is exactly what happens, First, I bring the Lord to a part of the stream that has a deep hole and where I always do well for SM bass. He casts there a few times and then tells me that trout like moving water. So I walk him down to a nearby spot where the stream flows a little bit, and I catch a LM Bass. He watches, and then tells me that not only does he need moving water, he needs ripples.

We hike back to the truck and move on. He is now in frenzy, foam is forming at the corners of his mouth and I feel the pressure in the vehicle like you feel hot steam on a summer afternoon. I have him stop at a part of the stream that has the required "ripples" but he now has another idea. "Where is the spot where the covered bridge burned down?" he asks. I look at him blankly, "what covered bridge?" There is a covered bridge in front of us but it is clearly un-burned. "You know" he replies, "the spot where the bridge used to be but it burned, then they built a new bridge." I am uncertain how to help him find a spot where a bridge use do be and then was replaced by another bridge. I express my concerns for his sanity and he gets on the phone.

"Hey Jake" he says, where is there a good spot to catch trout on the East Branch." I realize that he has called the Tohwee King, resident of the East Branch and all around good guy. The Lord wanders down the stream still on the phone; I start fishing, managing to hook a few creek chub but no trout. I notice that the sun is going down and my prediction is now being fulfilled; I am stuck at the stream with crazed royalty chasing some stupid, lazy farm raised good for nothing trout so he can win a custom rod. All thoughts of catching a nice LM Bass and taking photos have evaporated.

The Lord wanders back, staring intently at the water. "Well, I ask, where did the Towhee King tell you to go?" The Lord replies. "I am not sure, he said some thing about a covered bridge, but I told him it burned down. I did not listen to the rest, I think he said that you know the spots" I call the Towhee King and he says, "take him to the spot we usually fish and you can try by the covered bridge. I ask if he means the one that is burned or un-burned. He replies, un-burned, by the Dairy Queen.

I direct the Lord to return to where we started. Upon arrival I look over the bridge and there is a freaky looking dude dressed in sandals and a tie-dye shirt, fishing in a hole behind the Walnut Street bridge. He looks a little like Jesus, but without the flowing robes and guitar (Oh yeah, I meant Ted Nugent - sorry). Anyway, I ask if there are any trout thereabouts? He say, oh yeah, there are a few right in front of him but he cannot get them to bite. I am now really worried, if this dude cannot get them to bite, what are we to do. The Lord says, "no worries, I catch trout all the time." Great, we are jinxed. We proceed to drift earth and mealy worms through the pool. I watch a trout sniff my bait and swim off - I catch a SM bass. The Lord is again frantically (but methodically) working the spot, the trout ignore all three of us. I catch another SM bass and the Lord catches a creek chub. We waste the last 45 minutes of good light there and then move back to a spot about 100 yards from where we started.

I tell the Lord that I caught a trout at this spot in the spring while SM fishing so I have hopes. The Lord catches a sunnie. We fish for another 20 minutes and then the Lord informs me "the hell with this, I am going to fish catch a nice SM bass so you stop whining." I point out that it is dark and I cannot even see my line. We end the evening - finally without any trout.

At one point my whining and complaining got so out of hand that the Lord of the Smallies offered to let me use his Loomis (as in doom looming over the entire trip) rod and super expensive reel. I declined, pointing out the condition of my rod and reminding him about how I break tips. Soon after that I snag a tree on the bank and proceed to beat the snag out using my rod. He looked at me and stated "good thing that was not my rod you are using."
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