Blue
Lake Trek
Tube Packing Misery...
September, 2004
Nearly a year to the date, we revisit Lake Sabrina for a Tube packing trip
to Blue Lake. We arrived at Sabrina around noon and hiked back to
the remaining 'natural' portion of the lake. It was kind of strange
to walk on the bottom of the lake bed, after having fished this lake so
many times before. For those who are unaware, the lake was allowed
to drain so that repairs and/or modifications could be made to the
dam. We can expect the lake to return to normal next spring.
Fishing a Gold
Kastmaster from the north shore, I landed a healthy 11" rainbow
within 5 minutes. Thereafter, it was mostly strikes without
hookups. We waiting till 5pm hoping the action would increase... it
didn't. Though, many risers were spotted as we headed back to
camp.
Early the next
morning, we packed up our loose gear and started the hike before
sunrise. After the initial 15-30 minutes of getting the muscles to
accept the fact that we were doing this, I was feeling pretty good
considering I had packed a Float Tube, Wetsuit, Flippers, PFD and a 4-man
tent. The distance from Camp Sabrina to the Trailhead was .5mi with
a 100' elevation gain to get the muscles going.
Another
mile up the trail, with an elevation gain of 350', we came to where the
George Lake trail forks off to the south-west. Still feeling pretty
good, at this point, I knew the worse was yet to come. The remainder
of the trek to Blue Lake was going to be the challenge, 1.4mi with an
elevation gain of 1200' (see profile).
Somewhere in
the middle of this 'profile' I begun to realize the foolishness of packing
the float tube and extra gear. Thinking to myself 'this had better
be worth it', we pressed on. Albeit, progressing slowly at this
point.
You
can imagine my relief when we popped over the crest and trail intersected
with a creek that outflows from Blue Lake. The sight is always a
'million dollar view' ... this day it was beyond measure. For
me, it couldn't have been anymore welcomed than when Lewis and Clark
sighted the pacific ocean. Isn't it funny how quickly the pain fades
when you realize the hard portion of the hiking adventure is over?
After crossing
the creek, eager to start fishing, we quickly scouted for a suitable
campsite. As luck would have it, I discovered a perfect spot (not
too far from the lake) with a nearly flat grassy section that could
accommodate the tent. We setup camp much faster than I thought we
might. While the others got there rods and fishing gear together, I
assembled and inflated the float tube.
I had packed a
wetsuit in case the water temp was extreme. After that grueling
hike, the last thing I wanted was to wear a wetsuit. Ice water or
not, you couldn't have paid me enough to put that suit on.
The water temp
was actually not that bad. Or maybe I was suffering from altitude
sickness, light-headedness and didn't really have a clue. Any excuse
not to have to put that suit on., right? Naturally, the water temp
near the shoreline was comfortable compared to the surprise I got once I
got out into the lake. I started getting flashbacks from my DWEST
(Deep Water Environmental Survival) Training, and started paying close
attention to any onset of hypothermia as I made way to the inlet of the
lake.
I
should have packed my three piece fly rod, as I managed to snap off a
length of my two piece rod during the hike. That really sucked, as I
had a box full of new flies. I packed my little micro-setup to test
creeks with and so I floated around the lake casting a modified Kastmaster
(de-barbed) using that rod.
As I expected,
the fish were eager for anything ... so the Kastmaster was going to
workout alright. Until I managed to get into deeper water, I was
having no problem hooking small wild trout averaging 8-9".
Once I got into
the deep water, and closer to the inlet half of the lake, I started
getting some rather strong strikes. Every third, to fourth, cast was
getting hit... and I was starting to really enjoy myself. Though my
hike exhausted legs complained loudly and cramped occasionally in the
colder water.
Finally I
managed to hookup with the kind of trout I had in mind. A solid
strike nearly took the rod from my hands. The beast ran strong,
taking out what little line I had on the micro-reel. I didn't have
anymore line to give him, so I started reeling against the drag. As
I did, he leaped 2-3' feet in the air. From 70' away he seemed huge
and must have been. In awe, I stopped reeling and just sat there
enjoying the sight of his large SILVER body flying in the air. The
maneuver worked for him, as he came off the moment he hit the water.
There must have been a lot of tension on the line, as he came off with a
snap that made me believe that I had lost the Kastmaster., but
didn't. Eager for a picture of the fellow, I tried the area for
several fruitless minutes before giving up and floating further.
The scenery and
view from the tube was breathtaking. I paused from fishing to snap
off a few pictures, wishing I had my photography gear with me. These
little Sony digital cameras are convenient, but take some goofy pics.
Sony optics really suck! The digital imaging
computer isn't much better. I can take the same picture three times
in a row and end up with three totally different exposures.
Goofy. I'm going to have to dump this Sony for a small Cannon or
Olympus., they have better optics (to say the least).
For
the next hour I was buffeted by puffs of wind, while getting continued
strikes from apparently large fish. For some reason, I was having a
hard time hooking up. My guess is that the little micro-reel was
just too inefficient to keep the hook set. I thought to return and
get what was left of my fly rod and give it a try ... then came the
clouds. Judging from the frontal winds, I knew the clouds were
coming. And when they arrived, the wind stopped as they shielded me
from the sun.
It was then
that I realized how much my warmth was depending on the sun.
Burrrrrrrrrrr... So much for the fly rod idea. With teeth
chattering, all I wanted was to get off the lake. And wouldn't you
know I'd be over a 1/3mi away from where I launched. Suddenly,
chasing the prize seemed less important., as I kicked my way back to the
other end of the lake. Once I got back to the shallow end, the
warmer water was a welcomed sensation. I lazily floated in the
warmer water for 30 minutes before getting out to endure a little
wind-chill.
While I was on
the lake, my partner was enjoying himself fishing from the shore.
The lake was loaded with little native trout to keep him busy and happy,
while I played human iceberg. I was pleased to see his WIDE smile
when I returned., and hear that he was catching a lot of fish. He
was fishing the shoreline on the shallower north-east end of the
lake. No doubt, he would have landed some bigger trout if he'd hiked
more to the south-west end., where the water is deeper.
Lots
of eager fish with big ones to boot., the lake was everything I imagined
she might be. Sadly I wasn't able to enjoy, as much of it, as I had
hoped to. But I was thankful for the brief time I was able to spend
on her.
We could have
caught fish till the sun set... but hunger and exhaustion took its
toll. After dinner, at 6pm, we all went to bed.
At sunrise, we
broke camp and started the journey back to Sabrina. The down hill
hike was a total joy compared to the climb up. Still, by the time we
got to Sabrina, we were tuckered out.
In conclusion;
Blue Lake is a trout fishing destination, for sure. Unless
you're a seasoned backpacker use to carry a heavy load, leave the float
tube equipment behind. Fishing Blue Lake from the shoreline is
equally satisfying. And by leaving the float gear behind, you'll
have plenty of energy to fish into the evening, and maybe even day hike to
a couple of the other smaller lakes. Not to mention, there are
plenty of spots around the lake where you can wade out.
We'll
be back
without
the tube
