It’s demonstrative of the raw power of Singlebarbed prose – Berkeley has introduced a “mutt” Powerbait, but what’s scarier is they’re claiming the moral high ground with a “green” biodegradable Trout Nugget.

I’ve always assumed “bait” had to be biodegradable by definition, if not it’s artificial.

Plastered on a single barbless hook, it’d fit the spirit of the “single-barbless-artificial” requirement of trophy water, and I can’t help wondering why some angry fellow hasn’t tested that statute.

They’ve planted Pike in Lake Davis and Sunfish in Martis Reservoir in protest – why not engage in some massive class action suit that ties up these regulations for a couple millenia?

Even Merriam Webster is in the know “3: a decoy for attracting animals to capture: as a: artificial bait used for catching fish.”

The California Department of Fish and Game lacks a definitive answer in their regulations pamphlet, and I drew a blank on both website and the volumes of errata and legislation contained therein.

“Artificial-fly” is defined in the 2009 Freshwater Regulations:

1.08. Artificial Fly.
Any fly constructed by the method known as fly tying.

The “PB&J Stonefly” I whipped up would qualify; I should’ve used Creamy versus Super Chunk, but  the proportions were close – and Strawberry is every kids favorite.

The technique was simple, daub a finger full on chenille so it sticks – wind the resultant mess up the hook shank, smooth to the proper taper and top with jam.

… and before you get all huffy, note the jam was applied with a dubbing needle just like head cement – only with a lot more finger licking.

The “Caper Stuffed Grilled Mozzarella Midge” simply leapt off my plate.

Melted Mozzarella partially cooled and spun into a gelatinous fiber – wound around a Scud hook, and topped with a neutral buoyancy Caper.

… the Brown Trout variant uses Sauerkraut …

With all the robust and fibrous foodstuffs available, I’m wondering whether the “Rachel Ray of Fly Fishing” isn’t worth some serious coin on the lecture circuit.

… sure, all the purist SOB’s would boo and catcall – then notice their wife had wandered off and the outcry would dim accordingly  … she’d be clustered around my sample tray inquiring which wine went best with a Royal Stroganoff…

I’d be the next “Doctor Death” – and while the gendarmes would follow me around the state, giggling as they slapped the cuffs on me, my attorney would be filing yet another motion daring some court to prove that a Chicken had Nuggets – or the McNugget was part of something with a recognizable Genus and Species …

I’m sitting in the docket looking all polished and remorseful, and my attorney leans over and whispers, “… and if he starts me off with that weak-ass breaking ball, I’m gonna take him downtown ..”