The weather report forecast a warm and sunny day for my Friday vacation.

I wasn't pleased with the report and my wife couldn't understand why.

I looked over at her and said, "We always want rainy days when we're duck hunting or steelhead fishing".

Duck season didn't come in until Saturday and I was thinking about yelling out, "Fish on," which is the traditional call from anglers plying the streams of Erie County for huge rainbows and other salmonoids.

I had the chance to spend an early day at Walnut Creek, near North East, and I wasn't going to miss it no matter what the conditions.

Earlier, I had pulled out my fishing gear. Long limber rods and reels that could handle a blistering run of a steelhead trout would be a start.

Light line was good to use when the water was low and clear if you wanted to have even half a chance to hook into a 10-pound, lake-run rainbow.

My clothing had to be subdued and able to handle wind, rain, sun and cold because Lake Erie throws all of that at you in the fall.

The most difficult part of steelhead fishing is in choosing lures, flies and bait.

Although the steelhead is a large version of the local rainbow trout, they can be very finicky.

Frank Parise of the Pennsylvania Fish and Boat Commission put it best, "When you go fishing for these trout, don't expect to find out what they are hitting on this day; find out what they are hitting on this hour."

The trout are known for tremendous leaping runs when hooked that often end with a broken line or a thrown hook. The offerings that I observed were greatly varied with choices from single salmon eggs, skein sacs, flies, spoons and live bait.

I wanted to be ready for anything so I brought a little bit of everything to throw at the lunkers.

Erie County tributaries support a great amount of fishing activity, from Elk Creek to the west of Erie to Trout Run, Walnut Creek and 20-Mile Creek to the east.

You can find out more about the sport fishery here from the commission's website or get a pamphlet in the mail.

I've fished all of them at one time or another and they all capture my imagination with the hope of a record fish ending up on the end of my line.

In 2001, Cory Brown was fishing Walnut Creek when he landed a 20-pound, 3-ounce steelhead trout, setting a new state record.

Fazle Buljubasic of Erie also set a record with a 19-pound, 10-ounce brown trout in 2000.

I thought of those trout and I reached for my noodle rod and a reel with plenty of strong line. The creek might be low and clear, but the lake would be holding trout at the mouth of the tributaries.

I recall one rainy day when my companions and I landed 19 fish in one morning. We quit because the fight of the fish and the cold rain exhausted us.

I wish I could tell you about the record catch or the fighting trophy that got away, but I can't. On this trip, the fish were plentiful and every once in a while they would hit someone else's offerings but not mine.

The water was clear and low, and my fishing line was poorly matched for the conditions.

As bad as my luck was it wasn't as bad as that the four scofflaws fishing across the creek from me were about to experience.

I had been fishing next to a fellow Butler County resident who introduced himself as Butch Saylor from Bruin.

We were having a good conversation when we noticed activity on the other bank across from us. At the center of that activity were those four fellows who were now smoking and flicking their cigarette butts into the stream past dozens of trout and other anglers.

When I first arrived at the creek, I picked up a pamphlet that described the efforts of true sportsmen to keep the waterways clean and open to the public. One point that I recalled with surprise was that they had picked up more than 27,000 cigarette butts.

Here were four men thwarting their cleanup efforts in front of dozens of witnesses.

I was about to say something to them when I saw an undercover Fish and Boat Commission officer identify himself and cite them all for littering the waters.

Many of the anglers were surprised by the law enforcement support that came out of nowhere and escorted the men away. That careless act cost each of those men $70 and an additional $20 for each butt they tossed in the creek.

I can't wait until I get another chance at the trophy steelhead of Lake Erie. The steelhead trout season is just beginning and goes well into the winter months until the creeks freeze over.

When one of those sleek beauties hits your offering, you too will join the tradition of calling out Fish on!