By ALBERTO ENRIQUEZ

ROGUE RIVER -- Calaveras County has its celebrated frog jump. Rogue River has the rooster crow. And 6-year-old Wylie Brown, of Eagle Point, had his hopes set on a little red rooster.

"I don't really know how to control it," Wylie said Saturday. "But every morning he crows like 20 times."

No, Brown's little rhodie didn't win, place or show. Top honors went to the Pellissier family of Rogue River, whose range-fed, clipped-comb Hank belted out a rowdy 50 crows in 30 minutes. Hank silenced the field, but fell far short of the record. Back in '78, White Lightning loosed a delirium of 112 crows.

There's always next year, Wylie. After all, this was the 45th Annual Rooster Crow. A few still remember the first.

"The first crow was on Depot Street -- they closed it off," Rogue River old-timer Charlie Weaver recalled. "It was Shade Combs' idea. Let's see where'd he live? His house was right over there by the Homestead.

"Before the freeway came through we had a nice park down there with a slab floor -- and we'd have dances."

That was 1953, when there were actually two crows, and in the Sept. 5 contest Beetle Baum bombed the crowd with 109 crows, a record only White Lightning could zap, though it took a quarter century to do so.

With the temperature near 90, this year's roosters proved a tepid lot without even the excuse of cold, cloudy weather that made last year's winner, One-Eyed Jack, the quietest ever, with only 31 crows in 30 minutes.

Rooster Boy (are there rooster girls?), backed by Terry Farmer, of Wimer, took second this year with 34 crows.

Rosencrantz, a white banty (and part of a double bill also featuring Guildenstern), won third place for Jennifer Henton. Henton is a Rogue River High School Class of '98 graduate, who's read her Shakespeare.

One-Eyed Jack returned with owner Mike Kocsis, of Wimer, to claim fourth place with 24 crows.

Yes Crow No Crow, entered by Ariana Thompson, of Rogue River, won fifth by a coin-flip after tying Two-eyed Jack. Each gave 23 crows.

Rogue River resident Sandy Webb pondered the spectacle from the stands with her best friend Lore Schmitz, visiting the area for the first time from Corona, Calif.

"When I heard what weekend she was coming, I thought, `Hah, now they'll see how a small town works!"'

Dr. Carlos Salgado, also visiting with family from Cuernavaca, Mexico, summed up the mood of bemused newcomers in an atmosphere redolent of hay and just a hint of chicken droppings.