Fishing unknown water offers uncertain results
FISHING new water is always a gamble. Despite what you might have heard or been told, one does not know what to expect until hitting the water. It is also a learning experience because no two waters are the same.
One way to avoid the gamble and the learning experience is to always fish familiar water, but sometimes it pays to roll the dice.
For instance, there is a small body of water on the Key Pittman Wildlife Management Area in Hiko called Nesbitt Lake. For years I drove past Nesbitt while heading for other destinations further north. Then a friend invited me to join him there for a learning experience.
He wanted to try a new water. I wanted to try out a new fly-rod. What did we have to lose?
Nesbitt Lake is not a tiny body of water, but it is small enough to be comfortable fishing from a float tube or a paddlecraft. Tule beds along the shoreline limit access to only a few places, so that determined where we began.
When trying a new water, one often has no choice but to begin with what he knows. My friend, who was a much more experienced fly angler, tied on a Woolly Bugger. So I followed suit. He kicked his tube one direction, and I went the other. Soon we were catching fish.
The fish we caught would not come close to breaking any records, but our gamble had paid off. That foray on new water also taught a lot about fly fishing for species other that trout. It is amazing how scrappy a hand-size bluegill can be.
This summer I took another gamble while looking for a new water to fish over the July 4 holiday weekend. I was looking for somewhere close to the family gathering spot and something more suitable for kayaks than motorboats.
That search led me to Upper Sand Cove Reservoir, a small and nondescript body of water in southwestern Utah. Though I have been frequenting that area for more than 40 years, the reservoir was never on my fishing radar. Not until I saw a video of someone pulling in a plump bass while fishing the reservoir from a paddleboard.
Upper Sand Cove is not huge, but it is just the right size for a paddlecraft or a float tube. Using Google Maps, it measures only about 300 yards from end to end on the long side and roughly 220 yards at its widest point. Tule beds line much of the shoreline, though there is plenty of open shoreline for those who prefer to remain on dry ground.
A single fly fisherman was the only person at the reservoir when I launched my kayak, but given the human-caused wear on the shoreline, I figured that would soon change. In the meantime, I was up for a learning experience.
During the next few hours, I worked along the tule beds but found the fishing difficult because of the presence of aquatic vegetation that grew so thick that it seemed almost impenetrable. Undaunted, I kept paddling the kayak and found a few bass hanging out in small openings.
Most were on the small side, but a couple of fish were large enough to warrant the effort to try multiple baits. In the end, the fish were having nothing to do with anything I offered.
A couple of fish turned for a closer look, but they all turned into the dark mass of weeds and disappeared. My gamble did not pay off with fish caught this go-round, but I learned about a place that could be worth fishing in the cooler months when the weed growth is not so bad. ^
Freelance writer Doug Nielsen is a conservation educator for the Nevada Department of Wildlife. His “In the Outdoors” column is not affiliated with or endorsed by the NDOW.
Any opinions are his own. Find him on Facebook at @dougwritesoutdoors.
He can be reached at intheoutdoorslv@gmail.com.