Trip to fishing pier fruitless but fun

To my surprise, only a handful of vehicles were parked near the fishing pier at Boulder Harbor when I parked my truck in front of the sign that read “No Parking from here to the water.” It was about 4:30 p.m.

That it was Tuesday could have had something to do with the low turnout, but with a fresh batch of trout planted that afternoon, I expected to see quite a few more anglers. Especially since the midweek stocking date was published in last week’s fishing report.

Perhaps it’s a habit from my days as a game warden, but I decided to sit and watch for a few minutes. Between the pier and the launch ramp was one guy who carefully watched two surf rods for any indication that a fish or two decided to take his bait. On the fishing pier were nine others, most with two rods in the water. While they all appeared to be waiting for a big striper to hammer their bait, a couple of anglers were casting lightweight tackle, probably in the hope of catching a rainbow trout or two.

After several minutes, I could see the action wasn’t exactly rod-bending, but I armed myself with a pair of rods and walked down to the shoreline where the water was glass-smooth. On my spinning outfit was tied an AC Plug in a trout pattern, and on my bait-caster was a popper used on my last Lake Mead foray.

I set up south of the pier and spent several minutes working the popper. There was no response, so I tried a Bomber Long A. Then as daylight faded, I began to see recurring disturbances on the water’s surface. They were anywhere from 2 or 3 feet across to as large as 15 or 20 feet, but they weren’t made by boiling shad. They were made by schools of trout.

Hoping to catch a hungry striper, I started throwing the AC Plug. The rod I grabbed was a little light for the big lure and made a good cast difficult. So wanting to get a little more distance out of my cast, I reared back and put some muscle into it. I brought the rod forward hard, and it was then I heard the line snap and watched helplessly as the big plug sailed far into the distance and landed with a splash. It wouldn’t be coming back.

I turned to see if any of the other anglers had seen my rather expensive offering to the fishing gods, but luckily they were too busy packing. Still wanting to reach a little further from the shoreline with my now-diminished hardware, I filled one of the empty spaces on the pier. Fishing was slow for all of us, and I soon found myself alone with a friendly though soft-spoken angler who identified himself as Albert.

We visited about fishing at Lake Mead. He said the fishing can be tough but also told me about one of his friends who has been successful at finding big stripers.

Then Albert pulled out his cell phone and showed me a couple of pictures. One was taken that afternoon near Nelson Landing on Lake Mohave, and he pointed out the date and time so there was no question. The photo was of his fish-catching friend holding a 25-pound striper. In the other picture, he was holding a 35-pounder caught in the same place the week before. Albert said his friend brought the big fish to the Boulder Harbor fishing pier and they cooked it right there, sharing it with anyone who wanted a taste.

After a while, Albert reeled in and headed for home, leaving me alone on the dock. I stood there for several minutes enjoying the sounds of the night. For a long time, the only noise came from a handful of ducks and a chorus of coyotes. I was content to stay there until some guy showed up and began yelling for his buddies.

At home, I called a friend who fishes for stripers on a weekly basis and told him about the stripers that Albert’s friend caught at Lake Mohave.

“It seems like we’re always in the wrong place,” he said.

Then I thought about the fishing pier after everyone had left for home and said to myself, “Sometimes we’re in the right place.”

Freelance writer Doug Nielsen is a conservation editor for the Nevada Department of Wildlife. His “In the Outdoors” column, published Thursday, is not affiliated with or endorsed by the NDOW. Any opinions he states in his column are his own. He can be reached at doug@takinitoutside.com.