My beautiful bride caught her first fish on a fly.

Life is good.

We hadn’t planned on going flyfishing. In fact, we were just coming off a rather difficult week of appointments, surgeries and hard-to-manage cases and were both of the mind set that Sunday afternoon ought to be a little more on the mellow side.

However, as we were driving home from church, I casually mentioned that it was such a beautiful day that we ought not waste it by being indoors. I also casually mentioned that Craig Regional Park was a very peaceful and relaxing place with lots of trees and open spaces…and a wonderful little lake and stream.

I also casually mentioned that the new Sonic drive-in restaurant was nearby.

Ka-ching – done deal.

So, we ended up in Craig park and, wouldn’t you know it, I just happened to have not one but two fly rods in the back of the car.

The wind was a little too stiff for the novice fly-caster so we headed over to the little creek which is flanked by trees and is more protected.

Now, I’m only mildly bragging but the little Mrs. picked up the fundamentals of roll casting like the proverbial duck on a June bug. Before too long I moved several dozen yards upstream and essentially left her to her own devices so that she could develop her technique.

Before long, she yelped and, sure enough, there was the tell-tale twitching of the rod tip signaling a fish on. After a short battle, she landed the little Bluegill and lipped it like she’d done it a hundred times.

When I asked her how she knew to do that she said she learned it from all of the pictures on our web site.

Oh! I guess somebody is paying attention.

Anyway, she went on to land two more little ‘gills before things started to slow done.

We moved up and down the bank but could not find the fish anymore.

I fished a little more but she decided to call it a day and laid down in the grass to mull over her success and enjoy the long, warm rays of the afternoon sun.

Now, I am not exaggerating when I say there was the picture of heaven right there in that park that day; My bride, stretched out on the fresh green grass of Spring alongside a quaint babbling creek, highlighted by the golden rays of the sun, with her fly rod next to her…

…Dang, life is good.

I love this addiction called urban fly fishin’.

Naturally, I asked him how soon he could get to my house.

On the way over to Fullerton, he regaled me with tales of the massive, hard-hitting, head-shaking fish he had battled just days before. The more he talked, the higher the probability rose that I might have actually broken a couple of traffic laws – hypothetically speaking.

Anyway, when we arrived at the park, the attendant at the entrance gate, upon spotting our rods in the back seat, eagerly informed us that some 480 pounds of catfish had been planted earlier in the week and that he had witnessed several anglers catching decent amounts of fish.

We thanked him for the info, paid the parking fee, drove down to the lake and began fishing hard with our eight-weights in anticipation of the ensuing man vs. fish battles that lie ahead.

Forty minutes later we were still fishing hard but had not managed to entice a single bite.

We each ran through several colors of wooly buggers, a couple of crawdad patterns and a few leech imitations yet we both remained fishless.

Sean, worried that I might be growing suspicious of his earlier stories, suggested…well, quite a few things that, while imaginative, proved ultimately fruitless and thus, fishless.

Finally, after an hour and a half of some serious skunking, we opted to switch out gear to the shorter, 5-weights we normally use up in the San Gabriels and attack the small stream that runs off the west end of the lake.

I switched over to a 8x tippet and a size 22 nymph and we began working the stream, determined to make the most of an incredibly beautiful afternoon.

Sean almost immediately locked into a small pool that held a surprising number of small Bluegill.

I also began to pull in tiny little ‘Gills as we worked the little rivulet. After the frustrations of no fish, even these little guys were enough to change the mood and lighten the spirits.

Sure, I lost a few too many flies to the overhanging branches and sure bait-sized bluegills were not quite the same as junk-food gorged urban carp but the weather, the darting hummingbirds, the songbirds and the fact that we were catching fish all came together to make it a great way to send my buddy off on his trip to the other side of the world.

In fact, it was such a pleasant little urban fly venture that I thought about it for most of the rest of the week…that is until my other fishin’ buddy, Ray texted me with a picture from his day at Santa Ana River Lakes.

Ray. You gotta watch that guy.

Turns out that he hooked onto a 23 Lb. 8 oz. trout and was now in the running for the monthly thousand-dollar prize money for the biggest fish caught at the lake.

Also turns out that he was using his skanky, little back-up pole with three-pound test on it.

However, unlike Sean, Ray’s got the pictures to prove it. Check him out at the SARL.com website. Ray’s the guy with a smile as blinding as his shaved head. Like I said, you gotta watch that guy. Sometimes I think God has a great sense of humor.

I love this addiction called urban fly-fishin’

Last Saturday I just so happened to witness this very event, and to make things even better I had my fly rod in my hand.

The morning started out foggy and cold, and the weather had me thinking that a skunk was lurking right around the corner. Little did I know that I would have one of the best fishing experiences of my life.

I drove up to the water, and I could not believe my eyes. Splashing, Tailing, Bubbling, Carp everywhere my hands were shaking on the stearing wheel. I jumped out of the car almost forgetting to put in park, and pulled out the 8 weight.

First cast and boom a 8 to 10 pounder nails the fly and my drag goes screaming off the reel. After about 5 minutes the fish tired out and 1 carp in the net. Cast number 2, and the same result Carp on, could this really be happening! All in all I caught 8 Carp and had more bites than I could count, and this all happened within an hour.

As quick as the action was on it turned off, and I decided to call it a day. I just couldn’t let it be ruined if I was not able to hook another fish. So, I pack up the rod and reel, jumped in the truck and rode off into the sunset. Well, not into the sunset more like to McDonalds for an Egg McMuffin.