Cast your mind 40 years into the future. How exactly am I supposed to drag my weary bones deep into the mountains to find the peace that's so available to me today? Heck, if I fall down a mountain next year, how will I manage to stay sane if I can't get into the wilderness? The answer should be clear: My children will take me.
That's right, this has all been a long con to ensure I have porters to get me where I want to go when I can no longer go there myself. I'm happy to say, it's working.
The boy and I accompanied my father, the erstwhile Grandpa Jack, and Kathy to one of his favorite fishing destinations. It's a mile hike with about 300 feet of gain and not a trip that's easy for him anymore. In fact, although he talks about the lake frequently, he hasn't been there in years.
The big challenge is not so much the walking as the carrying. Fishing an alpine lake like this isn't a lightweight undertaking. It requires float tubes, waders, fins, rods, flies, food, water, and all the other necessities. At a minimum, that's about 20 pounds per fisherperson. Good thing Mr. HOS and I are adept at carrying heavy loads.
After a long drive on surprisingly decent Forest Service roads, we parked and started assembling the gear. The float tubes were inflated and I broke out my secret weapon: An ancient external frame backpack I picked up at a garage sale explicitly for the purpose of hauling float tubes and rafts. The plan was for the me and the boy to take a load of gear down to the lake, return, and accompany the rest of the party down. Henry shouldered two inflated tubes while I carried one tube and another pack. We stuffed other bits of gear into the pockets of the boats and packs where we could.
Getting down to the lake was easy. We let gravity do the work. Of course we were wary of a trail that starts down from the trailhead, but at least we knew exactly what we were getting into. At the lake we dropped our loads and turned for the return trip to the car. Not too far from the water, I exclaimed, "CRAP!"
No, nothing was wrong. We were doing SCIENCE! This time it was specifically scatty SCIENCE! and our target was Canadian lynx. Or maybe bobcat. It's hard to tell them apart. Regardless, we found poop. A fair amount. Enough, in fact, we had to choose which piles we wanted and which we didn't. We definitely got the poop from the tree, the poop full of hair and bones, and the poop that was so fresh it was still slightly warm.
Back at the car, we got the others suited up, Henry grabbed the last boat, and we headed back down the trail. I pointed out the poop we had dismissed as well as some poop that looked all the world like that of a moose. Sadly, we saw no moose, but I'm kinda thinking we'll need to come back for moose watch in the future. (I've only ever seen moose in the wild in Alaska and Wyoming and that just doesn't seem right.)
The fishing was good even though they weren't taking dry flies on the surface. The fly formerly known as a nymph (because it was a Prince nymph, get it?) did it's job and many fish were caught. Most were brook trout resplendent in their fall colors. Brilliant spots and red fins lined with white.
And on the opposite shore there were larch and pika. Needless to say, I hopped out of my boat and got a closer look.
Even though the fishing was good and the scenery was spectacular, there was rain threatening and it was pretty cold. We got out of the lake for lunch and decided we should head back. Henry and I considered doing the same type of double trip, but we realized if we deflated the boats we could get three on the external frame pack. I'd carry the other one, waders, and flippers and we could do it in one trip.
Grandpa Jack repeatedly apologized for going slowly, but I don't know how much quicker we could have gone with our loads. Getting back to the car was a relief, though we did have to get creative when packing. Somehow there was more gear than when we drove in so the backseat was a little tight.
Grandpa Jack was beyond grateful for the adventure. I was thrilled we were able to help and happy this would contribute to Henry's upbringing as someone that will go out of his way to help others. And if those others just happen to be me when I can't climb the mountains I can today? Bonus.
