Well David, reading your account reminded me (I had successfully forgotten) of my worst trip ever. I had decided to fish the back ponds of Henry Coe (Gilroy) in the middle of summer. Parked at the main entrance, hopped on my mountain bike with one little bottle of water, and set out for the back ponds which were about 11.5 miles away.
Knew I had to make good speed, so went all out, only casually noting that I was only going downhill for the first 5 or so miles. On the way down, flew over the handlebars 3 times but fortunately only cracked one or two ribs. At the 7.5 mile mark, it was now high noon, 105 degrees out, and I was just about out of water. Fished a nearby stream, caught a squawfish, and decided to turn back. Ended up walking the bike uphill for 5 miles, stopping at each shaded spot to rest for 10 minutes before setting off for another 25 feet to the next shaded spot and resting another 10 minutes. Repeated this all the way back. Occurred to me several times that I was probably not going to make it and die due to heat exhaustion and dehydration. Eventually made it back alive. Barely.
Despite this harrowing experience, I made another attempt, this time successful. Bought a Camelbak and approached the ponds from the south entrance. The fabled ponds were just as described by others: the fish acted like they had never seen a fly before. Hookup on almost every cast. Still had to traverse what seemed like a mountain range to get there though.
-- Mike
Chuck Norris has already been to Mars; that's why there are no signs of life.
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