Backpacking Trip With Brannus04

[fourbizz]

Sometime back in February or March, my buddy Brandon and I managed to get permits for the VERY restrictive Williamson Bowl. They are hard to get and the area is closed to all human activity from July 15th until January. With the impressive snowpack the Sierras received this year, as our July 7th departure date loomed near, we realized that there was just going to be too much snow this year. It was a definite disappointment, but rather than squash the whole trip, we decided to do a 5 day loop through some backcountry that is lower in elevation. Some of our stops were familiar to us, some weren't. This is the story of the back up plan.

We arrived on the morning of July 7th, after a couple hours of driving, at our trailhead. We each stashed a beer in the car for our triumphant return in 5 days. Those of you lacking the foresight to do the same, are cheating yourselves out of a wonderful return to civilization.

We slung on our packs of 33lbs for me and what Brandon said was "around 40" for himself. I get the feeling that he does not go through the same trouble of weighing individual items and his full pack like I do. We started off up the trail around 10 a.m.

The first few miles of this trail were familiar to us and we charged up it at a pretty good clip. Our itinerary for this trip was pretty flexible, but we were required to stay in a certain area for our first night. Despite this, we opted to take a small detour of a couple miles round trip to swing by an unfamiliar lake. By the time we arrived we were both a little gassed and I welcomed the opportunity to pick up my 8 weight and huck some big chunks of fur and feathers into the turquoise abyss. Yes, an 8 weight in the high country. Not so much for the size of the fish, but I am throwing some pretty big streamers and I like to sling them far. Unfortunately, this lake proved difficult to fly fish for a couple of reasons. Primarily, the lake has a large shallow shelf extending out 60-150 feet from the shore. It was obvious that the lakes large denizens would not be shallow during the middle of the day. The other obstacle I faced was very poor backcasting clearance. Even when I waded manhood deep into the clear, cold water, the casting locations were limited.

As our first hour progressed the thunderheads that had been forecast began to stalk their way into our area. Since I had neglected to put in a packliner, or even bring my pack cover, it was obvious to us that we needed to boogie to the area we were slotted to camp at for the night. We needed to get camp set up before the rain made it to our sleeping bags and other critical gear. Use a packliner people.

We finally arrived after crossing snowfields and slogging through a particularly wet and nasty trail. Camp went up quickly and without a hitch and we were pleased to be ready for the rain... that never came. By now it was about 2 in the afternoon. I opted to take a nap since I cleverly allowed myself 4 hours of sleep the night before. By 4 p.m. I was up, the big rod was strung, and I was hunting the big cruising Brown Trout of one of my favorite high country lakes.

Like the trout hunting masters of the air, when chasing these big boys I pick a perch high above the water. Sometimes 10ft, sometimes 30ft, but always up high where you can see down into their house. Yes, I fish from up here.

I put in a solid 4 hours of big Brown hunting for two good grabs. I missed both, but it was plenty entertaining watching them lazily cruise up to that big chunk of bunny and 'bou and suck it in. I dont know why it is so hard to hook these fish, but it is most likely a combination of being able to see them eat, setting too early, and having a good deal of slack in the line due to my lofty hunting spot. But, as I said, it was enough just to watch them come out and lay down the food chain law on my big streamers.

We had a gourmet meal of ramen and tortilla, and hit the sack. After fighting nature's call for a couple of hours in the pre-dawn morning, I finally drug myself out of my nylon castle and took care of business. Once I'm up, I'm up, so I again grabbed the 8wt. Brandon remained lazily snoozing away as the dedicated hunter stalked out of camp intent on piscivorous persecution.

I worked hard for a couple hours, with a few close calls, and far more flippant rejections from those wily old Browns. Just when the dedication was beginning to wane and the frustration was setting in, I saw a good one come into casting range and laid that big chunk of fur about 15 feet in front of him. I slowly stripped it back to the rocks and the fish did not hesitate, made a bee line over, and munched my streamer! I didnt have my landing net, it's laughably small size would have been like bringing a knife to a gun fight anyway. I got in the water and was eventually able to get hold of the fish. With Brandon still slumbering, I opted to take a quick picture near my rod and let the fish be on it's way. 21 inches as measured against my rod.

Success. Not a giant, not nearly the biggest fish this place has to offer, or even the biggest that I had bite that day, but it was a great fish and my day was already made. 9 a.m.

A small side-note. Notice the blue rubber band on my rod. This is a quick easy system I came up with for measuring fish. Hold the fish against the rod, even with the butt, then roll the rubber band down to the fishes nose. Measure at camp, or even at home, and you've got a quick easy tape for the backcountry that weighs practically nothing, and is always conveniently at hand.

I went back to camp and rousted Brandon and he came out to fish. About then, the days thunderstorm arrived on scene. This one meant business. I continued to fish in the rain, in the hopes that it would get the big fish up shallow and more active.

I wasn't off base in my hopes. The activity level definitely increased. More big fish were up and milling about. I missed a few more, had some heart thumping rejections, and spooked a whole pile of them off into deeper water.

I love fishing in the rain. The static sound of raindrops on a waveless lake is the sound of peace to me. Those are the moments when I feel truly in my element.

In short order, I spotted a good fish cruising super tight to the bank. I casted down about 20 feet in front of it, waited till it came within sight range of my fly and moved it to within a couple feet of land. As soon as she saw it, she torpedoed over and whacked it! Brandon was quick with the net and she was soon under my control. She was a chunk, clearly full of Redside minnows. 22.5 inches of chubby, streamer chewing goodness. Not bad for an alpine lake way up high in the backcountry!

The storm eventually passed. With it went the big browns. Back to the murky depths to digest their meals and toy with me no longer. They really did drop back down. I dont think I had another sign of interest for the rest of the day. But that was fine by me. I was grateful for what I got. These fish are notoriously wily. It seems that most guys struggle trip after trip to get one. Maybe I fish harder, maybe I fish longer, maybe I am lucky. Whatever the case may be, I'll take it!

I did manage to get a roughly twelve inch Brookie. His kindness in my time of hunger was summarily rewarded with a bonk on the head and a trip to the frying pan. Fear not, trout lovers, he was joined by wild onions, olive oil, parmesan, crushed red pepper, and some salt and lemon pepper. I topped that off with yet another round of ramen and tortillas.

Our last night at this lake was a good one. I had a full belly and slept great. Our final morning was bright and clear, without a ripple to be seen on the water. A typical post frontal day. In my experience, these days suck for fishing, especially with the larger, more wary fish.

Well, I love being right, but I love catching fish more. So unfortunately, when my prediction proved true and the fish didnt show, I was unable to add another picture of spotted gold and chocolate to my album.

All of this trip report wont fit into this post, and reformatting the pictures is turning out to be a pain. The rest of the story is on my blog if you are interested.

[Grey Wolf]

Now that's living the good life !!!!!!!!!!!!

[BASSINATORBIGJOE]

Man what an excellent story and some of the most beautiful pictures. I'll bet those are some tasty critters too. Sounds like the trip of a lifetime. Thanks for sharing it with us. Mike 8-)

[GonzoFishing]

Awesome trip and a beautiful place! Thanks for sharing

[b.Lee]

Bring me with you next time!

[I.rar]

amazing as usual.

[Shane Procell]

Incredible scenery and vivid photography!

[Alpster]

Good job Jay,

Thanks for sharing your trip. Awesome pics!!

Ronnie

[roadwarrior]

Now that's a story! Beautiful country and precious fish.

[SGT Rico]

Those pictures were breathtaking!!!!!

[rat-l-trapper]

It sounds like a great trip. Those are some beautiful brown trout. I can't wait to backpack around some high mountain lakes here in Oregon, especially after seeing your post.

[Big Tom]

amazing as usual.

Yep.  Awesome story and pictures.

[J Francho]

Excellent pics, and a very respectable brown.  nice work!

[Dan:]

So....

many...

"Broke Back"...

jokes....

Jay, why is access restricted to that area?

[burleytog]

That place needs a boat ramp.

[fourbizz]

Jay, why is access restricted to that area?

That bowl is the last stronghold of the endangered Sierra Bighorn Sheep.

[Dan:]

mmm, that sounds delicious.

[fourbizz]

I dont know about the Sierra Nevada version, but Bighorns are gross.

[burleytog]

It's a culinary fact.  Endangered species taste better.

[Dan:]

It's a culinary fact. Endangered species taste better.

Yeah, it's like a natural seasoning.