Beyond a challenging rugged road, through evergreen forest and creekbed meadows, lies a unique place with vast water and plenty of opportunity for a curious mind. Mountains wrapped around a deep blue lake is a vision of mine that holds a special place in my soul. The sight of rising trout from side to side of the lake spurs a unique angling intellect that only a mountain-lake fisherman can understand. The pure oxygen swept across a natural landscape such as this acts as a filter which cleans the air and stuns your senses in an awesome effect of gratitude and natural cleansing. A reward well worth a moderately difficult Jeep trail that keeps your toes on edge and knuckles white.
The air feels more like mid September rather than August. Clouds,storms, and sunshine alike fill the sky at any given moment, so being extra prepared for anything is essential. Once camp was set in a safe location, my dad and I couldn't wait to get out there on the lake. We hauled our canoe and gear a short hike down to the lake. It wasn't long when I started setting up fishing gear, and I felt a raindrop. Another, then another. We knew we were in for a rainstorm as the white clouds dove off the southwest cliff face onto the lake. We then hauled our canoe back up to a safe spot, flipped it over, then ran back to the Jeep. You can hear the storm sweeping through the trees and over the lake creating white caps. Thunder that pierces a body, we are in the clouds where the energy stirs. We waited the storm out for about twenty minutes when the rain finally moved to the east and sunshine crept from the west. A redemption chance to get out there before something else shows its face around the mountain.
As we set out onto the rippling glass on our canoe, the suns shines over green meadows and forest. Mountains shadow the steepest structures, punctuating contrasts in wonderful country. The end of the rainbow is always in the mountains for me, for I never know if I'll ever return there. This lake is very clear, boulders fill the lakes bottom structure with both mild and abrupt shelves. Giving homes to a long lived population, the Rainbow Trout. Last stocked in 1978, the population has reproduced naturally ever since and has sustained throughout time. The rainbows rising to insects on the surface, creating a marvel beauty upon a stunning reflection on the lake.
A sparse dry fly roughly imitating the target insect is cast in an artful loop out onto the great abyss. I watch the imitation fly with intent, keeping a taunt leader. Patience rewards me with a fierce splashing swirl, the trout took the bug. Like a lightning bolt coming from the depths, striking the surface. This fish is a playful dancer on fly tackle. Many surface and sub-surface catches were made all around the lake. The larger fish striking a deep trolled streamer fly. An anglers day that is full of excitement and grandeur makes for a humble adventurer. As the day crept closer to the horizon, dinner was to be had and a rest from sore buttocks endured. Dinner was made quick and eaten quicker, thus there was still time to enjoy the lakes fortunes for a little while longer. The evening fish is such a blessing to be able to commit to. Its a bewildering human activity amongst a colorful sky.
As the bite slowed, and the underwater structure blurs, its time to head back to shore. Nighttime shadows the sky quickly, and temperature drops. Light from the stars emerge over bright treetops as the fire keeps us warm. Spectating a meteor shower while lit by a mountain fire inspires curiosity about what's beyond the shades of illusion. Similar to an anglers pride and the surface of the water. The night was cold and still, a non-tormentous night sleep as the weather was cooperative.
Dew fills the air and blankets the environment in moisture by morning. The suns late arrival from a thick cloud helps retain moisture and cold temperatures to the mountains. The brew of a hot pot of coffee coming from a mountain camp is a special sensation. Coffee cup in hand, we walk down to the lake to stretch our cramps. The cleanest crisp air a person can breathe right in the morning to enjoy.
Our minds awaken, we set out on the canoe, seeking to find a beautiful trout looking for breakfast. New channels and mysterious drop offs were explored, and the fish were not far behind. A streamer fly sunk deep produced well for foraging deep-water trout. We made our way along to the other side of the lake where the stream originates into the lake from above a waterfall. Hiking next to a stream that plummets over stone is a pleasure worth every step. Meadows of blooming alpine flowers and thick grasses fumigates the senses and opens up your eyes to really appreciate existence.
Signs of mountain goats were present in the forms of droppings and tracks near the water source. Moose tracks were also present, but we didn't see one up here. Meandering through a whole world to itself, we spotted a white mountain goat scaling large cliffs and steep hillsides with ease. A legendary animal you'll only see normally if you also are a mountain goat to get to where they live. Absorbing all the senses you feel in such a place, it was time to go and venture back to the canoe.
Through careful voyaging, we made it back to the canoe un-scathed and a bit hungrier. We took a break, admiring the the beautiful lake we had all to ourselves from end to end, and catching a few fish from shore of course. Destiny had us leave from this side two very humble people as we head back to HQ base. Halfway across the lake, doing some fishing, the rain starts again. Time to reel in and book it across this lake as fast as possible. Getting rained on for a bit on the canoe, we make it back to shore. Rain and wind pelt the lake and we scramble to get all our gear back to the Jeep. As we look to the west, a powerful black cloud pushes over the mountain. We both take a big look at each other saying," Uh oh, that doesn't look good at all!". Moments later the wind grew fierce and the pellet hail nailed us hard.
Rushing for our lives, we collapsed the tent as fast as we could and stuffed it in the Jeep. Watching the chaos happening outside of our vehicle, there was mounds of hail accumulations rushing all around creating rivers through camp. A tiny break in the storm, and here was our chance to recover our canoe and get out of the mountains while we still can.
Canoe strapped to the top of the Jeep, gear scrambled everywhere within the vehicle, we set out down the treacherous road. Rivers of water travel down the road, making a very slick road with a loaded Jeep. Slow is good, as were in no hurry to have an issue in this situation. Stressed out and wet, we were really glad to see smooth roads once again after a run like that. Lets just say we got good sleep that night after a strenuous last bit of the adventure. But, that's not the end of the story yet……
The next day after doing some un-packing, I come across two empty reel bags. My heart sinks infinitely, and I burst into anger from my foolishness. A "reel" hair puller. I left my prized possessions on the bank of the lake during the frenzy. Self pride lost for awhile, we planned to go back up there on our motorcycles the next day. No sleep was had as I didn't know if my gear would be there the next day.
We woke up early the next day, and headed up that mountain road once again. Making way better time on our motorcycles, we made it back up to that dreaded lake once again!! Riding over to the spot where where we banked our canoe before, we looked around for two reels laying on the ground somewhere, yet to discover something even more grueling….. Both of my fly rods and reels were laying on a log as they were two days prior, fly and all. My jaw dropped to the ground in disbelief. So glad and so mad at myself, I didn't know which to think. A huge weight lifted off my shoulders, I lift my dry fly rig and flick my dry out there. The first cast out, a trout instantly took the fly, and broke it off at the knot. A sense of irony smacks me in the face, and I cant believe it again. With no planned gear with me, I just laughed. I tied on the fly that was on my other rod, with no luck. Accomplished with our rescue, we head back to the truck. I must have good karma, because someone else very likely could have found a pot of gold that day. Rainbows at the end of the trail. Trout, beautiful mountain structures, and lost possessions. A tale that will be told many times ahead!! Written by Sky Pilago Joyner