The Mountains Are Calling And I Must Go
John Muir
I have a T-shirt printed with that quote. Mine is Yellow Haze. I think of it often when I think of the mountains – which is also often.
Last week included a little change up when I joined my next door neighbor in front of his garage for a chat, instead of at my place. We were discussing fishing in the pond across the street and how the Iowa DNR stocks it with trout. That led the conversation to the trout farms and streams in NE Iowa, which ultimately led to one of my favorite fishing stories; trout fishing at No Name Lake in Glacier National Park Google Earth View. Be sure to zoom out to see it in the mountain context!
Our itinerary was simple and would not extend us too far physically. Just a few days backcountry to No Name and Old Man lakes. It was not the first time for Old Man, but would be a new route coming from the south rather than the east. And though the story is primarily about an afternoon of fishing, it does include interesting accounts from the rest of the trek.
Leaving the campground at Two Medicine Lake we headed west along the north side of the lake where, after about four miles, we veered toward the north side of Pumpelly Pillar heading for No Name Lake.
We enjoyed the campground that afternoon and evening, wandering around on the rocks at the head of the lake near the snow pack and investigating the lake. My son had a close encounter with a yearling black bear while fetching water from the incoming stream. It decided to climb from a tree within a few yards of him. Quite a shock; something he will never forget, but no worse for the experience. Others saw the bear around the grounds that evening and, of course, we kept vigil basically all night. I snapped one of my favorite backcountry pics from the west side (head) of the lake as the sun was setting behind the mountains.
An uneventful night woke to a glorious morning in the backcountry. After breakfast we grabbed our four-piece fly rods, reels, and gear, and headed for the lake. Getting around along the shore was no easy matter, with downed trees, rocks, and, worst of all, slippery rocks in the water. Understand that the snow pack feeding this lake was merely a hundred yards from the shore. But we waded in wearing shorts and water shoes, into the nearly freezing water in hopes of a catch.
We were not disappointed! It didn’t take long for either of us to catch our first trout. And they just kept coming. Many were in the 8″ to 10″ range, with some smaller and a couple larger. We realized there was a shelf about 25 yards from shore where the trout would lay wait in the deeps and see the flies near the edge. For them, an apparent feast. For us, pure delight!
I didn’t have my camera with me in the water, so no pics. But we spent several hours wading and catching and releasing the rainbow beauties. Whether we ignored the cold assaulting our legs, or they went numb didn’t matter as we cast our lines over and over, stripping them in with another fish attached. Neither of us realized how sunburnt we got, nor that we hadn’t eaten in hours. It’s difficult to express our continued excitement and delight. But those who know me will understand that we caught so many trout that I didn’t even count them. That, in itself, is testament to the fun we had! It didn’t matter that we didn’t keep any fish nor cook them that evening over an open fire. We had a once-in-a-life experience that we will never forget.
On to Old Man Lake
Stay tuned next week for part two of our 2015 No Name Lake / Old Man Lake Glacier segment.
Didn’t count? And this from the winner of the jellybean contest!
Knowing you, like you know me, I’d say you are egging me on to write about that.