SHigSpeed
10-02-2011, 01:11 AM
Well, since my good buddy Scott had never caught a golden before, I felt like it'd be a fine gesture to invite him to go on an overnight backpacking trip to a wilderness lake with me so that he could check that off of his list.
Foolishly, he accepted! I, being a dyed in the wool lake fanatic (though Scott may not necessarily define himself so) I was, of course, going to take my Punkin' tube with me. I'd been collecting lightweight backpacking gear to the end of allowing me to take a tube and associated items with me on extended trips - unfortunately Scott had not. I also had the advantage of another good friend who loaned me a pair of trekking poles, a compact and lightweight down bag, and a killer sleeping mat.
Here's my pack fully loaded:
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6123/6202423873_1bd99666f4_z_d.jpg
I did end up strapping my tent to the frame after I took the photo, but with 1.5 liters of water aboard and food for the two days, it tipped the scales at 41 lbs. Scott's? He sent me the following text, "My pack weighs 51 pounds!!!". To which I MAY have responded, "Have fun with that!"
Anyway, with all the planning and packing done, we met up yesterday and headed out. A quick high calorie breakfast and we were on the road. I had studied the topos of our route and read a few trip reports and though we were to be gaining about 1600 feet, it was over about seven miles so it didn't seem too bad. Some peak bagging yahoos managed the trip in like two and a half hours so we figured four hours tops, right? It's all uphill with no wasted gain in, all downhill out, easy peasy.
WRONG! It was a sucker trail. First of all, even with a topo, having read the trail reports, and TWO GPS units, we got off trail about 2 miles in. The result was a circuitous and elevation gaining bushwack instead of a simple flat path around a meadow. Only on the return trip did we see the sign we missed that would've pointed us in the right direction. You see, the GPS said we needed to go down this path... Luckily we managed to regain the trail eventually. Oh, and remember that sucker remark? Yeah, about that...
The first four miles gained a leisurely 400 feet. Now that we're well past half way, the trail gets EVIL! What that meant was now in only three miles, we had to climb 1200 feet. The climb felt like it would never end. Okay, maybe we're pansies, I know Scott had too much weight, and I could play the chemo card, but holy crap! It was seriously a rocky stairmaster for most of the rest of the trip. Okay, maybe not as extreme a haul for a grizzled veteran like Ed or Jay's recent Shepherd Pass journey, but it was our own personal gut-check.
With about a mile to go, Scott was fading fast, and I could tell that he'd need to take it easy. At this point, I offered him one of my trekking poles which seemed to help. He had the SPOT transponder, maps, GPS, and plenty of water so I asked if I could go ahead and if I didn't see him up top within an hour or so, I'd backtrack to find him after dropping my pack.
I finally climbed the stairs to the point where the trail diverged and headed to the lake. On the way there, though, I spotted a fishy looking creek and dropped the pack and quickly strung up my rod. Skunk was gone! If we didn't get any in the lake, Scott would be guaranteed to get one here! :)
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6161/6202131821_090461439e_z_d.jpg
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6162/6202649536_fbcb13a5d5_z_d.jpg
Only after viewing the second photo at home did I realize that I had a fly impaled in my palm. I guess gold is the best anesthetic.
After catching a few of these, I heard Scott calling from the trail and we played Marco-Polo until he found me. I suggested he string up and fish, but he was literally dead-man-walkin'.
So I left the rest of the inhabitants alone, repacked, and we trudged up the last few hundred yards to the lake and set up camp - VERY slowly. I remembered Scott saying that he could only sleep in his 2 person tent diagonally, and those of you who know him can attest that he's not NBA material... After checking out his tent, he admitted that it COULD be a child's tent. I suppose if it makes it lighter. ;)
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6167/6202679022_5dd5481f7d_z_d.jpg
and a pano of the lake:
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6020/6202763398_575da38dab_b_d.jpg
So we had finally made it. What time was it? I can't remember exactly, but I do believe it was nearing four PM. We had left the trailhead at just before 9, so if you take out the creekin', it took over six hours to get there! Damn, so much for a quick four hour walk...
Anyway, the lake was there and it certainly wasn't going to fish for us so we somewhat grudgingly set up. Scott did threaten to just lay down and sleep until morning, but (in?)sanity won out. After a quick Cup Noodles snack for myself, we finally hit the water around 4:30 or so and I quickly got this beaut!:
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6126/6202657402_03e4cce6a1_z_d.jpg
Heh...
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6168/6202147641_ca5df33398_z_d.jpg
Probably a small "silver phase" golden, though it's not entirely impossible that it's a rainbow/golden hybrid.
Quick photo of SV with the sun going down:
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6165/6202665978_d7c0cbae87_z_d.jpg
Soon after, I got this more respectable specimen, most certainly a goldie:
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6177/6202149759_a5e810933b_z_d.jpg
At about that time I heard some hollerin' from across the lake and it was mission accomplished for Scotty. From that point in he pwned me on catching for the rest of the night. A great way to forget the pain of earlier for sure. As the sun went down, though the water was only 64 degrees, I started getting cold as I didn't bother to don the tights or the extra socks, and the bite had shut down, so we both kicked in for the night. At take out, as soon as I got out of the water, I couldn't stop shivering, and my hip was KILLING me. I guess the cold and the insult of marching up the cliff face earlier had taken their toll. Only after I got the wet waders off (painfully!) and my boots back on did I start to feel any better.
We each had a hot meal of Mountain House cuisine (darned good, really. I'd never had it before...) and then it was time to recharge. Before I turned in, though, I managed a shot of the sunset that was probably enhanced by the smoke of a nearby controlled burn:
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6018/6202667356_7caff11b3d_z_d.jpg
I escaped to m tent to work on the day's NY Times Crossword (still haven't finished, anyone have an 8 letter answer for "glossy scarf fabrics"?) and read a bit of "Waters of the Golden Trout Country" for inspiration.
Last night really didn't get too cold (it was 41 in the morning) but boy did the wind howl! The sound in the trees was like a jet engine, but amazingly the velocity at ground level was surprisingly benign. I got up to move my tube behind my tent in case it got bad enough to blow it around, but it never got to that. As I always pack earplugs in my tents, I quickly installed those and the noise never again was an issue...
Morning came sure enough, and I got a head start with a cup of coffee and taking some photos of the sunrise and surroundings:
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6154/6202163299_aecc0a2cc7_z_d.jpg
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6173/6202670760_4531d18153_z_d.jpg
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6012/6202164761_3ec3a04fc2_z_d.jpg
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6126/6202178677_12844bc125_z_d.jpg
After a breakfast of oatmeal for me, and more freeze-dried goodness for Scott, we headed back out for more. The wind was still an issue, and with no real hatches to help us find the fish, it was slow going. I finally managed one more goldie, and Scott finished fishless.
Here we are giving it the ol' college try:
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6160/6202706092_86d7640e64_z_d.jpg
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6155/6202196735_b2f25e0cfa_z_d.jpg
to be continued...
Foolishly, he accepted! I, being a dyed in the wool lake fanatic (though Scott may not necessarily define himself so) I was, of course, going to take my Punkin' tube with me. I'd been collecting lightweight backpacking gear to the end of allowing me to take a tube and associated items with me on extended trips - unfortunately Scott had not. I also had the advantage of another good friend who loaned me a pair of trekking poles, a compact and lightweight down bag, and a killer sleeping mat.
Here's my pack fully loaded:
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6123/6202423873_1bd99666f4_z_d.jpg
I did end up strapping my tent to the frame after I took the photo, but with 1.5 liters of water aboard and food for the two days, it tipped the scales at 41 lbs. Scott's? He sent me the following text, "My pack weighs 51 pounds!!!". To which I MAY have responded, "Have fun with that!"
Anyway, with all the planning and packing done, we met up yesterday and headed out. A quick high calorie breakfast and we were on the road. I had studied the topos of our route and read a few trip reports and though we were to be gaining about 1600 feet, it was over about seven miles so it didn't seem too bad. Some peak bagging yahoos managed the trip in like two and a half hours so we figured four hours tops, right? It's all uphill with no wasted gain in, all downhill out, easy peasy.
WRONG! It was a sucker trail. First of all, even with a topo, having read the trail reports, and TWO GPS units, we got off trail about 2 miles in. The result was a circuitous and elevation gaining bushwack instead of a simple flat path around a meadow. Only on the return trip did we see the sign we missed that would've pointed us in the right direction. You see, the GPS said we needed to go down this path... Luckily we managed to regain the trail eventually. Oh, and remember that sucker remark? Yeah, about that...
The first four miles gained a leisurely 400 feet. Now that we're well past half way, the trail gets EVIL! What that meant was now in only three miles, we had to climb 1200 feet. The climb felt like it would never end. Okay, maybe we're pansies, I know Scott had too much weight, and I could play the chemo card, but holy crap! It was seriously a rocky stairmaster for most of the rest of the trip. Okay, maybe not as extreme a haul for a grizzled veteran like Ed or Jay's recent Shepherd Pass journey, but it was our own personal gut-check.
With about a mile to go, Scott was fading fast, and I could tell that he'd need to take it easy. At this point, I offered him one of my trekking poles which seemed to help. He had the SPOT transponder, maps, GPS, and plenty of water so I asked if I could go ahead and if I didn't see him up top within an hour or so, I'd backtrack to find him after dropping my pack.
I finally climbed the stairs to the point where the trail diverged and headed to the lake. On the way there, though, I spotted a fishy looking creek and dropped the pack and quickly strung up my rod. Skunk was gone! If we didn't get any in the lake, Scott would be guaranteed to get one here! :)
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6161/6202131821_090461439e_z_d.jpg
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6162/6202649536_fbcb13a5d5_z_d.jpg
Only after viewing the second photo at home did I realize that I had a fly impaled in my palm. I guess gold is the best anesthetic.
After catching a few of these, I heard Scott calling from the trail and we played Marco-Polo until he found me. I suggested he string up and fish, but he was literally dead-man-walkin'.
So I left the rest of the inhabitants alone, repacked, and we trudged up the last few hundred yards to the lake and set up camp - VERY slowly. I remembered Scott saying that he could only sleep in his 2 person tent diagonally, and those of you who know him can attest that he's not NBA material... After checking out his tent, he admitted that it COULD be a child's tent. I suppose if it makes it lighter. ;)
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6167/6202679022_5dd5481f7d_z_d.jpg
and a pano of the lake:
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6020/6202763398_575da38dab_b_d.jpg
So we had finally made it. What time was it? I can't remember exactly, but I do believe it was nearing four PM. We had left the trailhead at just before 9, so if you take out the creekin', it took over six hours to get there! Damn, so much for a quick four hour walk...
Anyway, the lake was there and it certainly wasn't going to fish for us so we somewhat grudgingly set up. Scott did threaten to just lay down and sleep until morning, but (in?)sanity won out. After a quick Cup Noodles snack for myself, we finally hit the water around 4:30 or so and I quickly got this beaut!:
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6126/6202657402_03e4cce6a1_z_d.jpg
Heh...
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6168/6202147641_ca5df33398_z_d.jpg
Probably a small "silver phase" golden, though it's not entirely impossible that it's a rainbow/golden hybrid.
Quick photo of SV with the sun going down:
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6165/6202665978_d7c0cbae87_z_d.jpg
Soon after, I got this more respectable specimen, most certainly a goldie:
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6177/6202149759_a5e810933b_z_d.jpg
At about that time I heard some hollerin' from across the lake and it was mission accomplished for Scotty. From that point in he pwned me on catching for the rest of the night. A great way to forget the pain of earlier for sure. As the sun went down, though the water was only 64 degrees, I started getting cold as I didn't bother to don the tights or the extra socks, and the bite had shut down, so we both kicked in for the night. At take out, as soon as I got out of the water, I couldn't stop shivering, and my hip was KILLING me. I guess the cold and the insult of marching up the cliff face earlier had taken their toll. Only after I got the wet waders off (painfully!) and my boots back on did I start to feel any better.
We each had a hot meal of Mountain House cuisine (darned good, really. I'd never had it before...) and then it was time to recharge. Before I turned in, though, I managed a shot of the sunset that was probably enhanced by the smoke of a nearby controlled burn:
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6018/6202667356_7caff11b3d_z_d.jpg
I escaped to m tent to work on the day's NY Times Crossword (still haven't finished, anyone have an 8 letter answer for "glossy scarf fabrics"?) and read a bit of "Waters of the Golden Trout Country" for inspiration.
Last night really didn't get too cold (it was 41 in the morning) but boy did the wind howl! The sound in the trees was like a jet engine, but amazingly the velocity at ground level was surprisingly benign. I got up to move my tube behind my tent in case it got bad enough to blow it around, but it never got to that. As I always pack earplugs in my tents, I quickly installed those and the noise never again was an issue...
Morning came sure enough, and I got a head start with a cup of coffee and taking some photos of the sunrise and surroundings:
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6154/6202163299_aecc0a2cc7_z_d.jpg
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6173/6202670760_4531d18153_z_d.jpg
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6012/6202164761_3ec3a04fc2_z_d.jpg
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6126/6202178677_12844bc125_z_d.jpg
After a breakfast of oatmeal for me, and more freeze-dried goodness for Scott, we headed back out for more. The wind was still an issue, and with no real hatches to help us find the fish, it was slow going. I finally managed one more goldie, and Scott finished fishless.
Here we are giving it the ol' college try:
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6160/6202706092_86d7640e64_z_d.jpg
http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6155/6202196735_b2f25e0cfa_z_d.jpg
to be continued...