by Uncle Wes, February 02, 2007

Ever since the beginning of time man has traditionally been the hunter or food gatherer. This is a story of two such gentlemen. Fishing is their specialty whether it is trout, salmon, or steelhead. Yes I’m talking about my fishing partner and myself, this is one example of having fun in spite of the trials and tribulations that an adventure might throw at you.

I had been reading a lot about the triploid fishery in magazines and different papers when I had gotten this great idea that Steve and I should go check this situation out. Now this was going to take some planning on both our parts not only the fishing end of it but trying to coincide our days off just to make this happen. I did extensive research on the lake and the campground we were going to stay at and it looked like this would be a very enjoyable trip.

The night preceding our trip we packed up the rig hooked up the boat and made a general check to make sure we had everything we needed. Finally the big day had arrived we headed out at 6:00 am on our 4 ½ hour trip that would put us in the middle of trophy trout country. We figured that we could get there early enough to set up and get in a days worth of fishing, but the one thing we forgot was that my partner had the bladder the size of a grape. Yes we stopped at every wide spot, out house, and rest area along the way in fact I think I could write a travelers guide on where to stop but that’s a whole nother story. So maybe our trip might take a little longer than expected. But what the heck we’ll still be there in plenty of time to get in some decent fishing.

As we pulled over at one of the mini-marts along the way so Steve could fill up his tanker he called a coffee cup, we discovered that one thing was forgotten, our road map. But not to fear we new the general direction that we needed to go and I’m sure that the road signs will send us in the appropriate travel route, right? Besides that we were fishermen, we could smell a fishing hole for miles and with our natural instincts as hunters we shouldn’t have any problem finding a lake that is 55 miles long and a mile wide. At last we had reached the top of the pass that takes us over the mountain our halfway point if you will, and it only took us three hours. So maybe we were a little behind schedule but we still had plenty of day light left and even if we didn’t get there until noon we still had plenty of time to fish.

We figured while we were admiring the view this would be a great time to make lunch and yes water the bushes at the same time. Steve pulled out the refrigerator sized cooler and we prepared a couple of sandwiches and stretched our legs. The one thing about Steve’s wife when she packs a cooler, she packs a cooler. I think there was enough food in it to feed a small third world country and we were only going to be gone for three days. Gotta love that woman, it amazes me that this guy is as skinny as he is. So we discussed what we thought would be the perfect route to get us there in a decent amount of time, packed everything up again and headed down the road. After about an hour we came to a fork in the road our first decision, which way to go do we continue going on the main road or do we take the cutoff? Now the cutoff was going to take us north of our destination or do we continue on and cut off a little further down the road that will take us south of our destination?

We decided to go south the roads should be better down that way considering most of the population was down south. I mean after all with better roads we could definitely make better time, right? So we continue on and it seems that maybe we should have taken the first cutoff. It’s been 1 ½ hours and according to the road signs it looks like another hour at least. But were men and having that natural instinct and sense of direction, who needs a road map? Of course we could stop and ask directions, but we are hunter-gatherer’s and don’t need any help, we can do this. After a little discussion we decide maybe it might be a good idea to get a road map just to make sure besides that Steve’s tanker he calls a coffee cup is empty.

After purchasing our map we discover that it would be quicker to turn around and take the first cutoff. No problem we will still have plenty of time to get in some evening fishing. I hate to admit it but I think if it wasn’t for Sacajewea that Lewis and Clark would still be looking for the Pacific Ocean. After a few more hours we finally arrive at our destination, the trout capitol, home of the trophies. And it only took us 10 hours to get there, but never the less we still had time to set up camp and get in some evening fishing. At last we launch the boat and get on the water with time to spare and plenty of light left to make it worth our while. So we start working the south end of the lake, which is closest to our launch and our campsite trying various set-ups just to see what might be the most successful for us. And wouldn’t you know it all we can seem to get are thirteen-inch trout, we are quickly realizing that we could have stayed home and got trout of this size. At any rate we continue to hook and release a number of these guy’s and the sun is quickly fading over the mountain when all of a sudden Steve has a take that bends his rod in half "fish on" at last something worth while. Steve battles this trout for about ten minutes and brings it in close enough for me to put the net on him and it’s a beauty at least eight pounds.

Now our spirits are soaring we high five each other and just admire this beautiful trout, of course by now the sun is gone and darkness is upon us so we head in to call it a day. We get back into camp eat a quick dinner and make our plans for tomorrow. That whole night seemed to drag on as I tossed and turned in anticipation of hooking my trophy, what a lake this has turned out to be. Finally after what seemed to be an eternity the alarm clock went off and we were up and ready to roll. The night before we decided that the North end of the lake was our target spot for the day, all the reports I had read indicated this was the home of the big boys and it was only about an hour away. So we loaded up and off we went, map in hand just to make sure we didn’t have any difficulty locating the launch. The one thing about this lake is that it is really not a lake but a body of water in between two damns so the water level and flow fluctuates quite a bit on certain days. We arrived at the launch and head south towards our destination about eight miles away. Now the damn is open and we are going with the current and it takes us no time really to get to our honey hole we work this area hard with very little results and decide to push on further south maybe another couple of miles. Now were picking up little ones about the same size as last night and releasing them all we didn’t drive all this way to settle for thirteen-inch fish.

And then it happened Steve had another one on a little bigger than last nights and it put up a terrific battle before I had him in the net. At last this fishery is starting to live up to its reputation and I know deep down that my turn will soon be here. We work that particular area for another hour and decide we should move down south just a little further. We hit the fifteen-mile marker and come across the fishiest looking water we have seen all day, we start working that area hard in hopes of another hook up maybe something in a larger size quite possibly the fifteen or twenty pound mark that I had read so much about. I leaned back in my seat propped my legs up on the side of the boat in general got comfortable and just basked in the sun waiting for my trophy to hit my lure. Then it happened no it wasn’t my trophy, the motor started to misfire I looked and seen the choke was pulled about half-way out and I immediately pushed it in but to late the mixture was a little rich and I had a fouled plug. No problem I’ll just grab my tools and pull the plug, clean it and we’ll be back in business in no time. Uh-oh that’s right we took the little tool kit out of the small cooler so we had a place to put our sandwiches without having to bring the cooler that was the size of a small refrigerator. Now what?

Well only one thing we can do turn around and head back to the launch, now I want you to remember that the dam is letting out water and we are now traveling against it with only one plug firing in the engine. Yes that’s right we could have walked faster than the boat is moving now. However I do remember that up river about two miles there were a couple of folks fishing from the bank perhaps they will have some tools we can use to pull the plug, clean it and everything will be back to normal. Of course I’m keeping a positive frame of mind just knowing that after everything we have been through that something has got to go in our favor sooner or later and I’m hoping it will be sooner. So we continue on our way for what seemed forever until at last we spot them we give them a holler and yes he has some tools we can use, great!! So we move in and beach the boat and Steve proceeds to pull the plugs and clean them. But to no avail the engine is still only running on one plug so after a little discussion we thank the folks for the use of the tools and we push on. Now I’m running as close to shore as possible to stay out of the main current and make some headway, but its starting to sink in that we might not get back in this evening. I take a mental note of what we have to keep us warm just in case we end up sleeping in this twelve-foot aluminum boat; I see my sweatshirt and a life-vest. It might get a little chilly and uncomfortable this evening, then Steve spots another boat coming up behind us we start flagging them in and yes they are stopping to see what the problem is.

They slow down and idle way away from us and ask what the problem is Steve gives them the explanation and asks if they might be kind enough to give us a tow. We then get their answer as they put it in gear, laugh at us and quickly disappear. Now my sense of humor is stretched way beyond all imagination and I give them a hand gesture with a few choice words. It didn’t accomplish anything but it made me feel better. So with no other choices we continue on as the sun starts slipping behind the hills we realize we have only a couple more hours of light left and realize we might be in for a very uncomfortable night. Then I spot a fella fishing back in a cove and give him a holler letting him know we are in desperate need of a tow. He tells us to just keep going and he will pick us up on his way in. I’ve got to tell you I had my doubts but after an hour passed here he came and true to his word he towed us back to the launch. On the way back in he showed off his two ten-pound trout and was telling us about a short cut back to our campground. And after the day we just had anything that will cut off a little time would be very much appreciated, so we both made mental notes of his directions and then loaded our boat up and headed down the road.

Of course we are both excited at the prospect of being back to camp in about forty minutes and put this day behind us. We roll thru this little town and take a turn here and a turn there and yes we should be back in camp shortly. A half hour passes by then an hour and the forest is getting thicker and thicker, we also notice that the road is going up hill and it’s starting to get darker out. After about an hour and a half we roll into this little town and stop at a gas station in hopes that we might get some new plugs for the boat and get some directions. Which brings me back to the subject of Sacajewea, where is she when you need her. Steve fills up his tanker he calls a coffee cup and we are on the road again, no spark plugs and an hour and a half away from the freeway. Now I need to remind you that Steve has a bladder the size of a grape so you can add at least another half hour travel time, but finally we make it to the freeway and discover we have been traveling north away from our campsite. We get out the map and discover we are two hours away, now add in a few stops and I figure we will be back to camp in about two and a half hours. Finally we arrive at the campground heat up some stew and climb into our sleeping bags, all to happy to bring this day to an end.

On a side note we did get new plugs the next day and never wandered more than eight miles from the campground boat launch. Steve did mange to put in three more trophy trout and well, my luck never changed and I couldn’t manage anything over thirteen inches. And of course being the sketchy looking characters that we are the ranger decided he should inspect our catch just in case we might be poachers. On the bright side I did see a lot of the country and yes it was official we spent more time in the car than we did fishing.