Sometimes, that has to suffice.
Earlier this summer I had the great pleasure of taking a three hour air tour of the Cascades. We flew a Cessna from Boeing Field out the Snoqualmie, past the Stuart Range, over Lake Chelan, Ross Lake, the Picketts, and back via the Alpine Lakes Wilderness. It was so cool seeing all the old stomping grounds from nine thousand feet. I noticed one lake with extremely inviting islands, one of which looked perfect for a paddle-in camping venture. Friday-Saturday promised a good weather window, so I made the short drive and started uphill. The well maintained trail passes through open second growth and picks up an abandoned logging road heading upvalley.
After a few hours of this, one enters old growth, gains a ridge, and drops into the Wilderness area. There's the lake!
There is always a sense of anticipation arriving at a new lake; drinking in the scenery and watching for signs of fish. This lake was stocked in 2019, and again earlier this year, so I was hoping for a decent population of holdovers, and looking forward to camping on my private island.
Mmmmmm; no bueno. Some dipstick had burned down the island. I'm pretty sure this was green six weeks ago. #whyIhatecampfires
Well then, how about the fishing? Lots of dinks, and after one that slipped the hook a the last moment, I lost interest. It's possible that diligently working the deeper water would have paid off, but I was feeling too lazy to break out the packraft. Screw it; I went swimming, hung out along shore, and went to bed early. The days are sure getting shorter!
The next morning while breaking down camp and tidying up I did see one good fish working, but nowhere one could cast to, and I had a plan B lake to hit on the way out.
Pack it in, pack it out, right Bubba? #whyIhatecampfires
Back over the ridge. Still not many mushrooms, but for this deadly specimen.
And a yearling Varied Thrush.
This is a very popular lake, and rightly so. Easy to get to, scenic, good temperature for swimming. I paddled about for an hour, missed one, and decided to call it a day. There is a lower lake, but heck, I skipped that.
As fishing goes, this trip was pretty much a bust, and my poor old knees were quite sore by the time I got back to the road. So it goes. Had I not tried, I'd be bothered all winter thinking about that island and how I needed to get out there. Now, about the lower lake that I didn't get to...
Earlier this summer I had the great pleasure of taking a three hour air tour of the Cascades. We flew a Cessna from Boeing Field out the Snoqualmie, past the Stuart Range, over Lake Chelan, Ross Lake, the Picketts, and back via the Alpine Lakes Wilderness. It was so cool seeing all the old stomping grounds from nine thousand feet. I noticed one lake with extremely inviting islands, one of which looked perfect for a paddle-in camping venture. Friday-Saturday promised a good weather window, so I made the short drive and started uphill. The well maintained trail passes through open second growth and picks up an abandoned logging road heading upvalley.
After a few hours of this, one enters old growth, gains a ridge, and drops into the Wilderness area. There's the lake!
There is always a sense of anticipation arriving at a new lake; drinking in the scenery and watching for signs of fish. This lake was stocked in 2019, and again earlier this year, so I was hoping for a decent population of holdovers, and looking forward to camping on my private island.
Mmmmmm; no bueno. Some dipstick had burned down the island. I'm pretty sure this was green six weeks ago. #whyIhatecampfires
Well then, how about the fishing? Lots of dinks, and after one that slipped the hook a the last moment, I lost interest. It's possible that diligently working the deeper water would have paid off, but I was feeling too lazy to break out the packraft. Screw it; I went swimming, hung out along shore, and went to bed early. The days are sure getting shorter!
The next morning while breaking down camp and tidying up I did see one good fish working, but nowhere one could cast to, and I had a plan B lake to hit on the way out.
Pack it in, pack it out, right Bubba? #whyIhatecampfires
Back over the ridge. Still not many mushrooms, but for this deadly specimen.
And a yearling Varied Thrush.
This is a very popular lake, and rightly so. Easy to get to, scenic, good temperature for swimming. I paddled about for an hour, missed one, and decided to call it a day. There is a lower lake, but heck, I skipped that.
As fishing goes, this trip was pretty much a bust, and my poor old knees were quite sore by the time I got back to the road. So it goes. Had I not tried, I'd be bothered all winter thinking about that island and how I needed to get out there. Now, about the lower lake that I didn't get to...
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