It is too windy to boat but too nice to stay indoors.  We head out on a short nature trail that winds along the top of the mesa just outside of the campground with nice views of the lake.  Silver cholla are covered with delicate pale yellow blossoms.  Ash throated flycatchers dodge and dart after bugs stirred by the recent rain.  One proud parent swoops in with a butterfly hanging out both sides of its beak to deliver to a young one still on the nest.   Lark sparrows gather at the base of cactus.  It is a nice stroll after which we hang around camp this last day at Temple Bar.  There is always plenty to do.

Clear blue skies are magnificent but there is also something wonderful about gathering storm clouds; the whole new color pallet they bring and the swirling winds that propel them.  We wake to thick grey clouds on the horizon dropping sheets of rain between us and the mountains.  One line goes through leaving clear skies then another line forms.  We are at home not out on the lake so it is amazing-rather than frightening- to watch.  By evening we have full blown thunderstorms with lightening and hail.  The temperature drops to 60; practically frigid!  We did squeeze in a bit of a hike between storms. 

Never a washout day fishing.  Each day brought a few stripers and/or large mouth.  Not a bang-up week for fishing but no one else in camp did much better.

Trolling took us east through the narrow canyon cut by the Colorado as far as South Bay.  It is a beautiful ride between towering cliffs with narrow side bays.  The views have made up for the marginal fishing.  Dips in the 66 to 71F water have helped us through the 95F+ degree days.  It has been a good stay     

We hear a loud pop and a puff or white “smoke” rises out of the back corner of the boat.   We were at the time under a shade tree 30 ft away.    Seems the daytime high of 99F degrees with a bright sun was just too much for the boat air horn.  You know the kind used as an annoyance at stadiums.  It blew sinkers all over the boat but other than the container which contained the propellant nothing else was damaged.  Upon further inspection the can says maximum temp is 120F, opps!

All the marinas around Mead have had to adapt as the lake has settled in 100+ feet below the original plan.  They have moved this one way out into the lake compared to original construction and they have extended the ramp several times.  The whole place is in a bit of disarray but important stuff is in working order so we make the long drive to water’s edge, back onto the very flat angle ramp, and push the boat off the trailer.  Ok, that’ll work.  Let’s go fishing.

A wild burro stands on the ridge above us, completely uninterested in our activity.  The lake is smooth and the sun bright but pleasant for now.  It is 8AM.  We glide to the east upriver past the river bank bluffs.  Just as we are settling in and bait in the water a burro lets go a deafening bray…the classic hew-haw several times over.  Another answers from not far off.  We had no idea they were there.  I spot the closest one not 30 feet up the bank.  It will be an hour before I see the other fellow.  Their color is very close that of the mottled brown/tan/grey bank.        

We drown worms for an hour or so with not even a hit even though we see fish around our bait.   It is wonderfully quiet.  I can hear the wild burro chewing and the crunch of his hooves as he moves on the rock.  Birds sing from the cliff tops.  It is wonderfully relaxing; but the fish are not biting and that just won’t do.  We pull in our lines and try trolling.  That’s it!  The little fellows just need to be annoyed a little.  We catch a total of 5, three smallmouth and two striped bass.  I caught three of them, but who is keeping score?   It is fun but it’s getting too hot and we need to get out of the sun.  We are back in camp by noon enjoying our shade and a very light breeze.   

We are trying a new campground in Lake Mead Recreation Area on the arm to the east where the Colorado River enters the lake.  It is more remote, claimed to have great star viewing night sky, typically lightly used and with bluffs (the features inspiring the name, Temple Bar) along the shore.  It is a long climb out from Mohave and at the mountain pass two big horn sheep pose on the ridge…very cool.  Desert stretches out before us in its muted browns and grey green.  Brilliant patches of fuchsia prickly pear blooms and yellow desert poppies provide magnificent accents.    Another hour or so and we start the long decent to Temple Basin.  It is remote.  It is lightly used.  It is pretty.  We will see if the fish are biting here!

We settle into a site with some shade – another unique thing here.   Trees are pretty rare in these desert campgrounds and this one has huge eucalyptus, olive, the ever-present oleander, and even a few palms.  Kent positions us to take advantage of sun for the solar but still get some benefit of the shade.  The forecast is to hit triple digits this week and we are in a non-powered campground.

Slight disappointment, there are bright dusk to dawn lights on the bath houses in camp.  Low humidity does bring us wonderfully clear skies but we have to walk a bit out of camp to get away from tramp light.  It is worth the walk.  We have to ignore the glow of the Vegas light dome to our west – some 44 miles away; but, the sky is still amazing.      

Mohave lake is very clear and we can see the fish all around our bait but they just are not biting.  The wind is nearly non-stop which is great for cooling but wind waves make just running to explore very difficult.  We use our last day here to make modifications to the boat trailer to move the contact point where the boat rides on a roller to reduce the risk of new damage as we haul it.  We load it up and it seems like an improvement.  Time will tell.

Burros bray and quail call as our stay comes to an end.  

Kent did a little catching, a pan fish and one nice bass.  I mostly drowned worms and enjoyed the view.  We are off the lake by noon as it is well on its way to 90 and the bright sun is blazing.  We pull the plug when we come off the lake and ta-da: no water for the second day in a row.  Repairs confirmed.  For now, it is a great afternoon for relaxing in the shade with a cool drink. 

We watch Gambel’s quail scurry around camp and their locating calls float from among the oleander all around us.  At dusk I hear the bray of wild burros.  We just have to go find them!  From the edge of the campground we spot them hanging out in the hills.  Very cool.  Day one we fish the bays on the opposite shore.  Fishing is pretty unproductive but a lone big-horn sheep makes its way along the shore above us.  He is a bit wary and notices every sound we make but doesn’t hurry off so we get to watch as he eats his way to the next ridge.