Strawberry Reservoir Opening Day: Boat-Ramp Lines, Bait, and Beck's First Real Cast

Tyler set the alarm for 4:45. I told him that was insane. By 6 AM the Soldier Creek ramp had twenty-two trucks in line and Beck was eating a microwaved sausage sandwich in his car seat, asking when the fish would come on. Reader, the fish came on.

By Katie H.·
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Tyler set the alarm for 4:45. I told him that was insane. He was right and I was wrong.

By 6 AM the Soldier Creek ramp had twenty-two trucks in line and Beck, our five-year-old — the boat baby who has been napping in a PFD since he was ten weeks old — was eating a microwaved sausage sandwich in his car seat asking when the fish would "come on." Reader, the fish came on. But first we sat in line for forty minutes. This is the Strawberry opening-weekend routine. Ice is off, water is high, every man with a Suburban and a dream is parked between Heber and the rim.

Wasatch reservoir at dawn with pickup trucks lined up at a boat ramp
Soldier Creek, 6:08 AM. Twenty-two trucks ahead. Tyler counted. He always counts.

The Suburban Tetris

Our 2008 Suburban — 218,000 miles, one rear speaker — fits four kid seats, two adults, a Yeti, three rod tubes, and a bucket of "miscellaneous lake stuff." Tyler packed the Yeti Roadie 24 with sodas, string cheese, and one Coors Banquet for the drive home — the only correct number. Liam (9) ran rod duty. Ava (7) wore her swim parka over pajamas because that is who she is. Beck wore his PFD inside the car, which he has done since he was three.

PFDs on this boat are not optional — the Onyx kids PFDs in three sizes, hand-me-downs through every kid; Tyler and I wear the Onyx adult inflatables, auto-inflate. In 41-degree water you do not want to fumble for a pull tab.

The bait shop sausage breakfast

Strawberry Bay Marina opens early opening weekend, and the camp store sells a $6.50 sandwich that is, I will say it, better than the Heber Maverik's. Two patties, one egg, yellow cheese, a Kaiser roll that has been in a warmer since the day before. At 6:45 AM with wind off the lake, that sandwich is a religious experience. We bought four. Plus nightcrawlers, two bags of PowerBait, and a can of corn because Tyler grabs one on principle.

Liam, 9, is bait. He picks the worm, hooks the worm, handles the worm. Ava refuses to touch worms but rebaits a PowerBait hook faster than most adults. Beck yells "GUMMY WORM" every time.

Kid in a red PFD on a small aluminum boat on a mountain lake
Beck in his hand-me-down Onyx. Third kid, third life of that vest. It still floats. So does he.

Beck's first real cast

Strawberry sits over Daniels Summit on US-40, 45 minutes from Park City, 25 from our Heber house. 7,600 feet, stocked with cutthroat, rainbow, and tiger trout — sterile cutthroat-brook hybrids that fight like they have something to prove. "Opening day" in our house is the first weekend after ice-off. This year, April 25.

Here is the thing about a five-year-old. They have been on the boat their whole life. But the first real cast — flip the bail, send it out, set the hook, work the fish — is a different milestone. Tyler grew up Snowbird Ski Team, off-snow on his dad's old Lund. He coaches kids' fishing the way he coaches kids' skiing: low pressure, occasional flashes of intense correction. He gave Beck the little spinning rod we have rotated through three kids, set him up with a worm and a split-shot in ten feet of water off a rocky point, walked him through the cast three times.

On Beck's fourth cast — thirty minutes in, after one tangle and one near-overboard — the rod bent. Hard. Tyler said, quiet, "that's a fish, bud, reel." Beck reeled. The fish came in side-to-side, flashing gold and green, and Tyler netted a 16-inch tiger trout that was, I am not exaggerating, the most pleased-looking fish I have ever seen, because the kid holding it was vibrating with joy.

Beck did not cry. Did not yell. Went very still and said, "Mom. I caught the fish on my hook." Handed it to Tyler, asked if we could let it go, watched it swim, asked when the next one was coming. Reader, my five-year-old is a fisherman. I am unwell about it.

Hand holding a small tiger trout half in the water beside a boat
The fish. Tiger trout, ~16 inches, released. Beck approved the release; he also wants to know if next time we can keep one for the smoker.
Two kids watching rods bend in holders on the back of an aluminum boat
Liam and Ava in the rod-watch position. They take it more seriously than I take most things.

Hot chocolate, and the gear

By 11 AM the wind picked up the way it always does on the Berry, the bite died, the kids were over it. We trailered out and drove the loop road to the day-use beach for post-fish hot chocolate — non-negotiable at 58 degrees. Swiss Miss off the tailgate. Beck added a string cheese to his cup, which I am told is a flavor combination.

Gear notes, for anybody outfitting a rig without spending a month of mortgage:

  • Boat cooler. Yeti Tundra 45 after killing two cheap coolers. Holds ice Friday to Sunday, doubles as Beck's seat in wind.
  • Dry bag. The Earth Pak 30L, $30. I do not panic when it gets dropped — the actual feature.
  • Paddle leash on the spare oar. Tyler's dad lost one off the bow at Jordanelle in 2019. The Stearns paddle leash is $14.
  • A short ice rod, year-round. The Frabill ice rod is what Liam used for his first Strawberry fish. Easier for small arms.
  • Auger. The Eskimo hand auger Tyler got used off a Heber neighbor drilled every hole we fished this February. You do not need a Strikemaster for 14 inches of ice.

If you are coming up from out of valley

Camp Strawberry Bay, Soldier Creek, Aspen Grove, or Renegade via Rec.gov — opening weekend books out by March. Day-trip from the cheap PC beds: Treasure Mountain Inn, Park City Peaks, or the Yarrow — a third of the Deer Valley side and 35 minutes from the ramp.

Tyler has been predicting Beck would be the fish kid since the boy was four months old on the bow at Jordanelle. I owe him a beer. — Katie