Backcountry Meeting
Posted: Mon Jul 26, 2010 8:47 am
By the most amazing coincidence, there I was, sitting beneath the Curry Arch with my loaded backpack. You know the place, Yosemite Valley, big wooden thing says Curry stretching across overhead, and up pulls a dark SUV driven by my good friend Mike. (Many of you here know him here as the OldRanger.) Also occupying this nicely tricked out ride was Mike’s son Matt, (soon to enter the Coast Guard … will await more info that part…perhaps for another day) and also inside, crammed to the gills was the usual backpacking gear crapola. Obviously they were heading somewhere fun, so, knowing a good thing when it appears, I jumped in and tagged along… easy.
Anyway, before you could blink an eye, all three of us reprobates were heading south, maybe a 2 hour drive, where we stopped at an intentionally un-named Wilderness Permit establishment, now with the intent of maybe hiking a few legal miles in and then perhaps three days of fishing…excellent!
Inside the official building more pleasant surprises awaited. Just so happened that another of our HST members “coincidently” was also there to pick up his own permit – TehipiteTom…big smiles all around but almost impossible to recognize him at first as he has gone anarchist, letting his hair grow out – maybe ¾ inch now but still looking every bit fit and trim- for Tom. What a grand happenstance – some might even say this was extraordinary fortune.
After doing the official permit thing myself, picking up a solo 12 day, walking out of a very cordial women’s office who handled the wilderness permits up there BTW, (thanks for the freebies!), then most amazingly, another large dude, a total burly stranger bumped into me coming out of the office – Russ by name, only to discover he was also a HST member – our own rlown, travelling with his outlandish side-kick/wingman Steve. (Just another strange twist of fate I reckon). BTW, Steve was an ex-mule packer out of Tuolumne, now an artist…but we let him stay anyway. They both also had their backpacks stuffed; fishing gear stowed and ready…one might even surmise that this entire soiree was all planned out months beforehand…in secret. Turns out that it had to be our own Mike who had surreptitiously orchestrated the whole thing… (Just for the record, if you ever need a Fall Guy, or if anything planned ever goes awry in any manner, or if you just want to blame someone else - ever, it will always be, by definition, totally Mike’s fault.)
Continuing on with the story, the immediate plan was all six of us, first to have a big Mexican lunch at El Cyd’s, (a Mexican restaurant located next to the permit office location,) then drive up to a ~8000 feet elevation trailhead on a nearby 20 mile dirt road, and finally hike out six miles or so to a spectacular campsite (picking up another 1000 foot of elevation in the process). We were heading to a series of linked fishing lakes – armed and ready…HST style. (Plenty of needed hints as to location here.) All together, we spent 3 days together laughing, swatting bugs, and fishing.
Before proceeding with this tale, it should be noted that I personally do not carry a camera – others on the trip did however and hopefully will chime in with plenty of embarrassing photos – I am a wordsmith only as my photo skills never seem to satisfy. At one point on the endless hour-long, dirt road, drive up, we rounded a curve only to discover the entire Sierra West side spread out before us. We all got out of 3 cars and stood staring at the wonders in front of us.
Also it should be noted that having a big lard-laden (it was very good but) Mexican meal and beer immediately before a 6 mile hike in the 95º hot sun was someone else’s questionable idea (guess who?)…explosive. Mikes exact words as he led up the trail, “You will really enjoy that last one!” (Starting to get the drift of this meeting?)
Finally arriving at our predetermined secret destination – lakeside, it should be mentioned/confessed that I broke another hiking pole – (a BD elliptical), by falling through at a creek crossing. Interesting, where the elliptical design of the shaft has extra strength in one direction, there is a lacking force (too easily snapped) in another. (The round ones are better.) Thank God for REI.
We took up that whole end of the lake – spread out our camps…one large communal kitchen…tents and packs…stoves everywhere…fishing gear readied…everyone seemingly had it well together. Turns out that Mike brought along his son along not only as a companion but also as an indentured servant…his ice slave. (Mike does enjoy his cocktail hour and needs someone on call to constantly hike up the hill and procure fresh shaved ice for the frozen drinks ahead.) Oh, I may have forgot to mention that all attending carried at least a liter (or two) of fine distilled spirits…Tequila, Grand Mariner, 151…had a full bar up there. It was not uncommon to hear, “Matt...More ice!” That first night, as Mike poured, Russ pulls out his stash (on ice) of fresh abalone steaks…pounded out and ready…he cooks/sautés/ slices them up right there…perfect…amazing hors d’oeuvres at 9000 feet…This was to be truly hard-core, HST camping.
This will just be the start – the first installment of the first day of what will be a thread hopefully added to by all others in attendance. Before signing off now, it must also be mentioned that while fishing at “my spot” – corner of the lake, we looked over and saw another angler, maybe 100 feet over also snagging a nice fish. I called out, “What are you using?”…"Red and gold Z-Ray – 3/8 oz” came back as a reply. “That lure is my #1, go-to lure”.
Maybe I forgot to include some pertinent data, but the new angler’s name was John…our own GiantBrookie.
More to come - HST style.
Anyway, before you could blink an eye, all three of us reprobates were heading south, maybe a 2 hour drive, where we stopped at an intentionally un-named Wilderness Permit establishment, now with the intent of maybe hiking a few legal miles in and then perhaps three days of fishing…excellent!
Inside the official building more pleasant surprises awaited. Just so happened that another of our HST members “coincidently” was also there to pick up his own permit – TehipiteTom…big smiles all around but almost impossible to recognize him at first as he has gone anarchist, letting his hair grow out – maybe ¾ inch now but still looking every bit fit and trim- for Tom. What a grand happenstance – some might even say this was extraordinary fortune.
After doing the official permit thing myself, picking up a solo 12 day, walking out of a very cordial women’s office who handled the wilderness permits up there BTW, (thanks for the freebies!), then most amazingly, another large dude, a total burly stranger bumped into me coming out of the office – Russ by name, only to discover he was also a HST member – our own rlown, travelling with his outlandish side-kick/wingman Steve. (Just another strange twist of fate I reckon). BTW, Steve was an ex-mule packer out of Tuolumne, now an artist…but we let him stay anyway. They both also had their backpacks stuffed; fishing gear stowed and ready…one might even surmise that this entire soiree was all planned out months beforehand…in secret. Turns out that it had to be our own Mike who had surreptitiously orchestrated the whole thing… (Just for the record, if you ever need a Fall Guy, or if anything planned ever goes awry in any manner, or if you just want to blame someone else - ever, it will always be, by definition, totally Mike’s fault.)
Continuing on with the story, the immediate plan was all six of us, first to have a big Mexican lunch at El Cyd’s, (a Mexican restaurant located next to the permit office location,) then drive up to a ~8000 feet elevation trailhead on a nearby 20 mile dirt road, and finally hike out six miles or so to a spectacular campsite (picking up another 1000 foot of elevation in the process). We were heading to a series of linked fishing lakes – armed and ready…HST style. (Plenty of needed hints as to location here.) All together, we spent 3 days together laughing, swatting bugs, and fishing.
Before proceeding with this tale, it should be noted that I personally do not carry a camera – others on the trip did however and hopefully will chime in with plenty of embarrassing photos – I am a wordsmith only as my photo skills never seem to satisfy. At one point on the endless hour-long, dirt road, drive up, we rounded a curve only to discover the entire Sierra West side spread out before us. We all got out of 3 cars and stood staring at the wonders in front of us.
Also it should be noted that having a big lard-laden (it was very good but) Mexican meal and beer immediately before a 6 mile hike in the 95º hot sun was someone else’s questionable idea (guess who?)…explosive. Mikes exact words as he led up the trail, “You will really enjoy that last one!” (Starting to get the drift of this meeting?)
Finally arriving at our predetermined secret destination – lakeside, it should be mentioned/confessed that I broke another hiking pole – (a BD elliptical), by falling through at a creek crossing. Interesting, where the elliptical design of the shaft has extra strength in one direction, there is a lacking force (too easily snapped) in another. (The round ones are better.) Thank God for REI.
We took up that whole end of the lake – spread out our camps…one large communal kitchen…tents and packs…stoves everywhere…fishing gear readied…everyone seemingly had it well together. Turns out that Mike brought along his son along not only as a companion but also as an indentured servant…his ice slave. (Mike does enjoy his cocktail hour and needs someone on call to constantly hike up the hill and procure fresh shaved ice for the frozen drinks ahead.) Oh, I may have forgot to mention that all attending carried at least a liter (or two) of fine distilled spirits…Tequila, Grand Mariner, 151…had a full bar up there. It was not uncommon to hear, “Matt...More ice!” That first night, as Mike poured, Russ pulls out his stash (on ice) of fresh abalone steaks…pounded out and ready…he cooks/sautés/ slices them up right there…perfect…amazing hors d’oeuvres at 9000 feet…This was to be truly hard-core, HST camping.
This will just be the start – the first installment of the first day of what will be a thread hopefully added to by all others in attendance. Before signing off now, it must also be mentioned that while fishing at “my spot” – corner of the lake, we looked over and saw another angler, maybe 100 feet over also snagging a nice fish. I called out, “What are you using?”…"Red and gold Z-Ray – 3/8 oz” came back as a reply. “That lure is my #1, go-to lure”.
Maybe I forgot to include some pertinent data, but the new angler’s name was John…our own GiantBrookie.
More to come - HST style.