Lake Isabella Derby
Kern River Valley
April, 2005
With high hopes on landing a lot of
trout, we loaded up the kids and headed to Lake Isabella for the annual
fishing derby. Saturday morning we awoke to find the weather to be
perfect, for a day of catching trout. Unfortunately, as luck would
have it, we positioned ourselves in the wrong place. For whatever
reason, we spent hours without a single nibble. Later we would
discover that many others had had a similar day.
If nothing else, I learned how important
it is to take a very small tackle box when fishing with 4yr olds. My
morning was mainly devoted toward answering questions... "What
is this?"., "What's it for?"., "How do you use
it?". The same three questions were asked for every single item
in the tackle box. The kid never did figure out that the answer to
question #2 (What's it for?) was always the same.,
"Fishing". Rather than be annoyed, I was actually
impressed that he demonstrated the interest., though I doubt he was taking
notes.
At high noon, I decided to call it quits
for the day and take my guests on a .25 cent tour of the upper Kern
river. I took them to a spot that normally had wide beaches that
would be relatively safe for our younger guests. The beaches where,
for the most part, under 2 feet of water. So we found a sliver of beach
and set the kids up and let them fish (or rather, surf salmon eggs).
Although the flow remained high, the
water clarity was much improved from the week before. Be that as it
may, not even I could catch fish on that section of the river then.
On the return trip, down river, we drove
by an angler with three healthy rainbows on his chain. That brought a
reassuring smile to everyone's face.
The
rafters were taking full advantage of the high flows and absence of
anglers. Given the conditions, I was only too eager to step aside
and them have the river to themselves.
On Sunday, we returned bright and early
to the Lake and the fishing derby. We had decided to positioned
ourselves near French Gulch in hopes of someone catching something in its
little coves.
Seems the Wind decided to be up bright
and early too. By 9am the wind was making it difficult to
fish. Just our luck, to have to cast into the wind., and then deal
with the tidal waves produced by the speed boats.
The kids didn't seem to mind the wind
and not catching fish. To them, this was fishing and that was
that. We were fishing, and they had no clue it wasn't going
well. With my back to the wind, I sat back in my chair and enjoyed
watch the beleaguered fishermen on the lake and along its shores. High
Seas and Heavy Rolling!
It
was during my observations that I spied a canoe team attempting to deploy
a makeshift sail. Personally, I hadn't a clue that this procedure
was even in the canoeing 'how to' book. The concept would have never
entered my mind. So I snapped a couple of poor quality pictures of
the maneuver to share with others.
I eagerly waited to snap a shot of them
capsizing. Or seeing the 'human mast' get yanked overboard. Just my
luck, nothing happened. Beware of an angler with an idle reel., we
can be very creative in our thinking when we're bored.
We've all had days like this., when you
ask yourself when you should put an end to the fun, as you wipe yet
another wind blown grain of sand from your eyes. As for the kids,
they were having the time of their lives ... this was fishing, so far as
they knew ... and they were happy to be fishing.
And then it happened. One of the kids
went off like a Piccolo Pete on the 4th of July. Daniel caught a fish,
Daniel caught a fish. At first, you're cautious not to leap at yet
another wishful 'wolf' cry. But with the kids running around and
bouncing off rocks in their excitement, you get the feeling this may be
the real McCoy., and the elders rise from their seats. Sure enough,
Daniel caught a fish. Or should I say, the fish.
It's funny how one fish can raise the
hopes and spirits of an entire fishing party. I gave thanks, as I
watched each kid claim his communal ownership of the days' catch and pose
for a picture. The elders gathered to wipe their brows in relief.,
"We're not getting skunked this weekend, by golly...".
We'll be back
...
