There are times when a person just needs to get away to a place where there are no parking meters, no BART train, no midterm exams due. No work to be done, nothing to think about but crisp clean Sierra air,and making quality memories with solid family. We achieve things day to day to satisfy the needs of everything else, and sometimes everyone else. This was a time when to achieve was to satisfy the man who looks back at you in the mirror every morning, and I call that success in every way.
I headed up the hill from the bay after work as fast as the spankin' new Dodge Ram 4x4 would carry me. It was almost as if I were being chased by something wicked, and that terrible something was the noise and stench of the big city.
After what seemed like an eternity and endless winding on cliff side hairpin turns, I breathed a sigh of relief as I laid eyes (and camera) upon the familiar sign of my final destination.
I arrived to a warm welcoming fire, and two Nephews that were already there expecting me.
The next morning we set out at o'dark thirty in search of the first lake of five that we would see on this excursion.
We trekked the snow patched moonscape trail until we came upon the first pristine lake, the glass of her surface welcomed us.
We arrived with fly rods in tow in search of the at times very elusive and finicky golden trout.
At times you can throw every fly in your box, and you will be shunned...other times you could throw an old floating shoe on the end of your line, and catch every fish in the lake. Or, you can even watch in awe as your Nephew throws a piece of a chocolate chip oatmeal Cliff Bar to a sixteen inch Golden and watch as it wolfs it down, spits it out, and then eats it again.
We headed out, and back down to base camp for chow, rest and some more good fun.
My Nephew picking up other peoples trash. Not cool to leave garbage out there. Pack it in, pack it out.
After lunch at base camp, we caught so many of these that I lost count. What an awesome problem to have.
The wind would howl intermittently, so I would switch back and forth between fly and conventional methods for optimum fish catching results.
Cut 'em loose.
Jackasses
Time for me to mess 'em up on the fly. I love just the floating line and a streamer. Make that streamer look a bit like a baby brook trout and you are really in the money. The three weight is a BLAST.
Release Matters
Sometimes killing is unavoidable, but if you kill it, respect it by consuming it.
Pot-holing is fun
I love this place. It simply never gets old. I will visit here, and bring all of my kin here until the day I die....and then they will place my ashes at its highest point so that I may look down upon its beauty forever.
The Dodge did well on its maiden 4x4 voyage.
And the old Dodge lived up to its young reputation too.
The next morning we arose to conquer the mighty Latopie at 10,500 feet in elevation. I had been stricken with hypoxia the last time we went there, but this time it was seamless. There were no headaches... only smiles, laughter and a jackass good time.
We hit the trail in the dark and blustery cold.
Upper and Lower Koenig lakes. Barren of fish.
About halfway there.
Amazing how things find a way to live at these altitudes.
Latopie falls
Almost there.
Success!
Cold!
Started to snow.
Used to have Golden Trout...now its barren. They are all gone, and I have no clue how or why.
Hot lunches kick ass. And the Jetboil is the greatest invention of all time.
Our view from the lunch table.
Weird, but oh so freakin good. Mountain House ROCKS!
My family....my FRIENDS.
The video of Latopie lake at 10,500 feet.
On the way down.
On the way home. Thanks boys....I had a kickass time. On to the next one to conquer soon.
