Author: FisherDad

I am a Christian who has been married to my wife for over four decades, with six children and four grandchildren so far. I have retired from a string of successful occupations as a certified public accountant, a chief financial officer, and a registered municipal advisor. I have been a fly angler for almost five decades. My one and only article submission was published by Southwest Fly Fishing magazine (now American Fly Fishing). You can learn more about me by clicking on “About” on the top of my blog page.

Cambria, Central Coast of California

DeAna and Rob, Santa Rosa Chapel, July 7, 2007.

Out-of-town trips can’t always be about fishing, can they? Well, they can’t. And, although there are no pictures of fly-caught trout in this blog post, there is lots to share with family and friends.

Cold Springs Reservoir – Wayne Kirch Wildlife Management Area – Sunnyside, NV

Sixteen-inch male rainbow with kyped jaw

It had been two years since my maiden trip to Wayne Kirch. I had wanted to return last year, but the weather and timing never got in synch. In 2005 I had limited success in very cold, windy weather. On that trip I had one good strike from a strong trout that I lost before bringing it to hand, so I knew there were good-sized trout in Cold Springs.

Baker Reservoir – Veyo, UT

I am always amazed by nature. Its beauty and order, its variety and grandeur, leave me breathless. And yet, I am frequently astonished by how much we miss. We can pass by something many times and never notice it or ponder it. Perhaps it’s a sensory self-defense mechanism to protect us from overload. Nonetheless, that is the story of Baker Reservoir. I must have passed Baked a half-dozen times on my way to Pine Valley and never really noticed or considered it.

Pine Valley, UT

The weather report was showing a few more warm fall days. It seemed like this was my last chance to fish before the real hustle and bustle of the holidays hit and the fishing fell into the doldrums of winter. I had been talking about a fishing trip, out loud to myself, and Denise must have overheard me. Monday she stuck a note on my side of the mirror saying how much she appreciated my help and what it meant to her, and finished by saying that she wanted me to stay around through Thanksgiving and not go fishing… took the wind right out of my sails. After checking my calendar and giving it some thought at work, I asked her if I could go Wednesday preceding Thanksgiving, a workday, if I promised to be home by 6:00 pm. I argued it would be just like a regular workday to her, and she said “yes”.

Cold Creek, Clark Co., NV

Here is the view in 1977 looking north, from above Cold Creek spring. In the distance stands the old Cold Creek Field Station, still intact.

In 1977 when I was a junior in college I taught myself how to fly cast on an eight-foot six-inch, seven-weight fly rod. I had read a book by Joe Brooks about western fly fishing. Brooks lived in Montana where the rivers and trout were large, real large. Brooks recommended the eight-foot six-inch, seven-weight rod for the wide, open rivers of the west. I was just 20 years old, what did I know about anything? I reasoned if it was good enough for Brooks, it was good enough for me. So, I ordered my first Fenwick rod from a mail order catalog.

Ely, NV – Comins & Cave Lakes

Brian happy to try fishing Comins Reservoir.

It has been a long, dry summer as far as fishing is concerned. I had planned earlier trips, but work and life in general got in the way. But then a window of opportunity appeared at work, and Brian, armed with his new learners permit, was anxious to drive the highway (Nevada law requires him to log 50 hours of driving before he can get his permit, which factors to about 2 hours a week to be ready on his 16th birthday).

Ely, NV – Illipah & Cave Lakes

I had been awaiting the arrival of spring weather, and for that lull in the budget season between the March Budget Workshop and the May Budget Hearing, to set up the first fishing trip of the year. I decided to avoid Cumins at this time since the big ‘bows are in spawning mode and not actively feeding. Rather, I decided to return to Illipah Reservoir just off Highway 50 (known as the Loneliest Highway). I got on the road about 10:30 am and arrived at Illipah about 2:30 pm.

Comins Lake – Ely, NV

On Comins Reservoir, looking west towards Ward Mountains

I was looking forward to a late season trip to eastern Nevada. I was thinking I would fish Illipah, Cave, and Comins, but inclement weather discouraged the Illipah excursion out of concern the dirt road would turn to mud and become impassable. It turned out that Comins was so good I did not want to go anywhere else, anyway.

Kolob & Little Reservoirs – Southwesten Utah

A few Kolob sandstone formations on the Kolob Reservoir Road.

I had wanted to go on another fishing trip with my boys for quite a while. Although I doubted they shared my passion, I was not sure that it could not be cultivated. It had been a couple years since I took Brian and his friends to Cave Lake and Great Basin National Park, and about five years since Tom, Doug, and I went on a tour of northeastern Nevada that included the Ruby Marshes, Illipah Reservoir, Cave Lake, Silver Creek, and Great Basin National Park. Now that they were older I thought they might appreciate the experience a little more and be better able to master the technical nuances of fishing. They seemed interested in the trip (or was it just mid-summer boredom), so we planned a mid-week trip around Doug’s days off.

Illipah Reservoir, White Pine County

Illipah Reservoir from the hilltop campground (note farmers’ truck near shoreline)

This was my second Illipah trip, having quickly fished this reservoir four years ago with sons Doug and Tom, at which time I landed one single rainbow through the thick weeds of the warm summer. On this 2004 trip the late spring weather found the trout feeding in much sparser weeds along the banks. The high temperatures were around seventy, and the lows were in mid thirties, although I lodged overnight at the Best Western in Ely. Although Illipah Reservoir is 6,700 feet in elevation, I found the sparse high-desert flora too monotonous for camping, especially since Ely was just forty miles to the east.