Some outdoor firsts catch sportsmen by surprise

A sportsman's life is full of firsts -- first fishing rod, first rifle, first quail, first gobbler and first deer are all on the list. So is a double on our favorite game bird, or the catching of multiple fish on the same line. Some of these firsts we knowingly look forward to and work to achieve, but others catch us by surprise.

Such was the case a week or so back while my 14-year-old son, Hyrum, and I were fishing with my friend Roger at Lake Mead. We left home at 0-dark-30 so we could be on the water at first light or shortly thereafter. We drove to Callville Bay, where I had the opportunity to test my new lung capacity on what might very well be the world's longest launch ramp. Thank goodness my trip was all downhill, because I parked Roger's truck in the upper lot after launching his boat. It took me several minutes to catch my breath.

We battled morning winds and rough seas until we turned into a protected cove on the Nevada side of the lake. Roger said an acquaintance of his told him the fish were biting along a series of steep banks and points, so we stopped and started throwing bass baits. As we passed over a submerged point, Roger decided to show off and catch the first fish of the day, a plump little bass that probably went a pound or so. It hit a brown grub he was bouncing on the bottom. Of course Roger did the decent thing and apologized, emphasizing that said apology was for catching the first fish.

After working the steep drop-offs for 30 minutes or so, we finally marked fish, but they were all deep.

Sure that the fish were stripers, we switched to anchovies and dropped them overboard. Soon Roger's rod was bent over under pressure from a fighting striper, a nice fish that was soon swimming in the live well.

After a while with no other bites, we moved to a new location and again worked the steep banks and points for bucket mouths while keeping an eye on the fish finder for striped bass.

As the morning wore on, I decided that Roger must have put a curse on our rods, because he was the only one catching fish. A striper here, a smallie there, then he'd reel in another largemouth bass. Hyrum found the action on his side of the boat so exciting that he went for a swim and found a turtle to play with.

We finally headed back toward the marina, battling seas even rougher than we had that morning. After marking fish in a shallow cove along the way, we dropped both anchor and anchovies. I really needed to catch a fish. Not for my sake, but so Roger didn't feel the need to apologize for being the only one who caught fish all day.

Then suddenly, my rod tip dipped hard toward the water, and Hyrum's rod followed suit. We had a double hookup, or so I thought. After bringing the striper to the boat we realized the fish had swallowed Hyrum's anchovy as well a mine. This truly was a double hookup. One I had never seen before. A true first, or at least a first for me and Hyrum.

Freelance writer Doug Nielsen is a conservation educator for the Nevada Department of Wildlife. His "In the Outdoors" column, published Thursday in the Las Vegas Review-Journal, is not affiliated with or endorsed by the NDOW. Any opinions he states in his column are his own. He can be reached at intheoutdoorslv@gmail.com.