tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28252019466909174862024-02-18T18:21:29.740-08:00Hidden PoolsA blog of outdoor adventures in SE WA/NE OR.coachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17319295012637778079noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825201946690917486.post-73260030189611989532010-07-03T19:07:00.000-07:002010-07-03T19:09:11.648-07:00hiddenpools is movingWe have decided to move the hiddenpools blog to a new site. You can read about the continued adventures of Grant and Jeff at<div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.ruggedflies.com/blog/">Rugged Flies</a></div>coachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17319295012637778079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825201946690917486.post-55929157893477763222010-06-20T19:13:00.000-07:002010-06-20T19:21:58.750-07:00Joseph Creek Oregon June 18-20, 2010After several weeks of high water Joseph Creek was dropping last week and looked like it might be fishable by the weekend. I began planning for another exploration. My first into Joseph Creek I hiked in too far down stream and caught smallmouth bass even though the water temperatures were below 50 degrees. The second trip in was much higher but I found squawfish to be the primary occupant of this section. I decided if any public section of the creek was going to hold mainly trout it had to be on the upper end of the Forest Service ground where there are several small tributaries that are spring fed. My hope being that these small tributaries help keep this section of the creek cooler in the hot summer months. <br /><br />Having no good information to rely on I looked at my maps and picked a ridge that looked “hike-able.” I had not scouted the road that leads to the canyon rim on this section, but I had noted a tree blocking the road where it first leaves FS Rd. 4650 so threw my chainsaw in. <br /><br />I headed out Friday afternoon and found where road number 080 took off. To my surprise someone had drug the tree out of the road so I didn’t even have to get out the chain saw. I had planned on driving to the end of this road and hiking down the ridge between Bull Canyon and S. Fork Cliff Creek. As I came near the edge of the canyon I noticed that there was a road of sorts going off to my right that the map had labeled as a “jeep trail.” I thought I had better check it out for any future hikes. A ways down the jeep trail it kind of disappeared but I saw what looked like a nice ridge to hike down so I drove my jeep across the hillside and parked at the top. <br /><br />Plan B. I didn’t see any reason not to hike down this ridge. So I did. This ridge ran between N. Fork Cliff Creek and Rim Creek and was really a pretty nice ridge to walk down. It was a beautiful day and I reached Joseph Creek sometime after six. After hiking down, looking at that beautiful canyon, the creek was kind of a let down. I knew it was not going to be clear, but that murky water made my heart sink a little. I am used to seeing the clear water of the Wenaha and the S. Fork of the Walla Walla and after hiking down a canyon like that, you expect to see clear water even if you know better. <br /><br />I found a decent place to pitch my tent at the bottom of the ridge. I noted that there were several decent spots for a hammock tent as well. By the time I got camp set up and firewood gathered I still had an hour or so of light left so I grabbed my fly rod and headed to the creek. I tied on a woolly bugger followed by a couple of nymphs. I caught a few rainbows right off before sticking my flies in a bush across the creek. There was a lot of insect activity so I decided to try a couple of dry flies. <br /><br />I tied on some sort of foam terrestrial and an elk hair caddis. No disappointment there. The rainbows were happy to nail the hell out of the elk hair caddis. The fish were still all under 10”. After rising and catching quite a few rainbows I decided I had better head back to camp. I felt good though. There was definitely more rainbows in this section of the creek. Perhaps I had finally found the trout Shangri-La my book had spoken of. Tomorrow I would ply the waters more thoroughly in search for the 18 inchers. <br /><br />Saturday was a beautiful morning and I was thinking to myself that I was happy when the weathermen were wrong. After some quick breakfast and coffee I headed downstream. I still had the elk hair caddis on and decided to leave it on there for a bit. It produced similar results to the evening before, but I didn’t hike down a steep canyon to hook fish up to 10.” I tied on another olive woolly bugger, a caddis emerger, and a mayfly emerger. Those fish loved the woolly bugger. I tried quite a few different combinations of nymphs behind the woolly bugger, but the woolly bugger out fished them all. Twelve inches was about the biggest of the trout I caught, but I did not catch any squaw fish and it wasn’t until I had worked my way downstream a couple of miles until I caught a sucker fish. <br /><br />Swamp Creek is one of the major tributaries to Joseph Creek and I wanted to see exactly how big it was and whether or not the water was clear. I had fished my way down to Swamp Creek by early afternoon. It was a decent creek but not really fishable. Or I should say, not really cast-able. You would be dabbing flies off the end of your rod. The water was a disappointing murky color as well. It surprised me a little bit. Most of Swamp creek and Davis Creek (a main tributary to Swamp Creek) run through a pretty steep canyon with no roads. At the very upper end you actually cross the two creeks on FS rd. 46. At this spot the creeks are only about 2 feet wide. I measured the water temperature and swamp creek was running at 58 degrees to Joseph Creek’s 63 degrees. I also took a peek at the “trail” that is supposed to run beside Swamp Creek. I could see where it was, but it was definitely not worn. I followed it upstream until it went into some thick brush. It does not look like anyone maintains the trail this far down. <br /><br />I was hoping to make it back to camp in time to fish upstream as well, but a breeze picked up and soon some gray clouds appeared at the rim of the canyon in the north. I picked up my pace, remembering that the weather forecast had called for rain and thunderstorms. At last, perhaps the weatherman was not wrong today after all. <br /><br />Along this section of Joseph Creek there is a trail. Most places it is fairly easy to follow. Some places it splits into several game trails then disappears for a distance. If you keep your eye out, you will pick it up again. On my walk back I ran across two rattlesnakes. Counting the one alongside the river earlier in the day, that made three rattlesnake encounters for the day. <br /><br />I made it back to camp at 4:30 just in time for the first rain drops. I shed my waders and hopped into the tent, hoping the rain would be short lived. I laid back on my sleeping pad listening to the plop, plop of the rain and soon fell asleep. Around 6:30 I woke and the rain had stopped. Not for long though. I no more than boiled water for dinner and the rain was at it again. Around 7:30 I began to notice that my tent was not so waterproof. I seemed to have moisture running down the inside walls and beginning to form small puddles inside my tent. Damn! I thought. I tried to decide if I could hike out before dark. It would be cutting it close and after already hiking quite a few miles today, I would probably be slower. I have hiked in the dark. I have hiked into strange places I have never been before and up out of steep canyons with no trails in the dark. I have not really enjoyed any of those experiences that much so I decided to stay put and hope that the rain would let off. <br /><br />What is it they say about hope? Never mind. Soon it was good and dark and the rain was loud hitting my small tent, but not near as loud as the thunder. There were a few times that I could really feel the thunder it was so close. I did not sleep well. Between the rain and thunder I was in and out, but mostly out, of sleep most of the night. The cloud cover must have been pretty dense as well. Whenever I opened my eyes I couldn’t see a thing. Usually you can see something, even if it isn’t very clear. This was pitch black. Around 3:30 in the morning the rain began to let up and I could begin to see inside my tent a little. The lull in the rain finally let me get some sleep. <br /><br />There were small puddles inside my tent everywhere and my sleeping bag was a bit wet by the morning. If it weren’t for the sleeping pad making an island, I would have been soaked. During a break in the rain I got out and made breakfast and coffee. But I had to eat and drink the coffee inside the tent because it began raining again. That tent was beginning to feel way too small. I had been in it about sixteen hours. <br /><br />I finally gave up on the whole idea of the rain stopping anytime soon and simply got out and got a good soaking. I just threw all of my stuff into my pack wet. That is a great benefit of the rain as well, it made my pack weight heavier hiking out. By the time I got to the top there wasn’t a dry spot on me. <br /><br />What to say about Joseph Creek? I feel a bit let down by my Angler’s Guide to Oregon. On Joseph Creek it says it “ranks among the best wild rainbow trout streams in the region. Trout here reach at least 18 inches and typically range from 8 to 14 inches.” There may be trout up to 18 inches, but the average or typical is much closer to 8 inches or less. I must say it is difficult to judge a section of river by one day of fishing. At least I finally found the right section of water to fish. If you ever fish Joseph Creek, I highly recommend staying above Swamp Creek until they get the summer water temperatures under control. <br /><br /> Perhaps I will ply its waters again. Maybe this fall when the water temperatures drop again, or perhaps next spring if it drops down before any of the other streams. For this spring my explorations of this creek are over. The Wenaha is calling me. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Trip Notes:</span><br /><br />-Ridge length: about 2 miles<br />-elevation change: 2200 ft +/-<br />-Streamflow from <a href="https://fortress.wa.gov/ecy/wrx/wrx/flows/station.asp?sta=35G060">DOE website</a> at mouth: 150 cfs<br /><br />Write-up by GrantGranthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11085244339942493841noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825201946690917486.post-64024255755609935472010-06-13T22:07:00.000-07:002010-06-13T22:13:12.141-07:00Floating the Wild and Scenic River section of the Powder River in Oregon June 11-12, 2010With all the heavy rain we have had over the last two weeks, all the rivers have been high. Joseph Creek went from around 100 cfs to nearly 700 cfs. Other rivers in northeast Oregon were the same story. After staying home one weekend I thought the Powder River might provide a fishable alternative. The USGS does not have a gauging station on the Powder, but I guessed that the river would not be as affected by the recent rains since it was a tailwater. <br /><br />I called Jeff and told him I had a great adventure for us to go on. We could take my pontoon boats and float the Wild and Scenic River section of the Powder River from below Thief Valley Reservoir to where Big Creek runs in 10 or so miles downstream. We had both fished below the reservoir and wanted to see what the upper, hard to reach, BLM sections had to offer. There is roughly 10 miles of BLM ground below the reservoir, but you can’t access it from the north end because of private property. You can access it from a dirt road on the south end and I had done just that a month or so earlier. <br /><br />The opening weekend of Southeast Oregon fishing is April 24 and I had hiked much of this section of the river. My wife and I had hiked from Big Creek upstream about 4 miles. The river looked quite pleasant for a float. As I walked up the canyon that weekend I made a mental note of an especially rapid section of the river that I thought looked a bit treacherous if someone were going to try and float the river. Other than that I thought the only drawback to floating the river would be the spots where you might have to stand up and drag the pontoon boats through water that was too shallow to float. <br /><br />Our basic plan was to leave Friday morning with two vehicles. We would take my Jeep Cherokee and leave it as close to the river as we could get near Big Creek. We would then take my pickup with the pontoon boats and put in below the reservoir. We were going to spend Friday fishing below the dam and sometime in the afternoon float downstream to a ¼ mile section of BLM ground that was in the middle of private ground. Here we would camp and spend part of Saturday fishing. We would then make our way downstream fishing the BLM ground where we wanted. I assumed that we would not make very good time floating since the river is fairly small and we would have to drag the boats around protruding rocks and shallows. We would have plenty of time to make it out by Sunday when our wives were expecting us home. That was the plan.<br /><br />Plans never quite seem to work out, do they. Driving down the freeway along the Powder River Jeff and I both noticed that the river looked about as high as either of us had ever seen. This section of the river was upstream from Thief Valley Reservoir, so we assumed the flows below the dam would be less. <br /><br />We made our way up the Medical Springs highway and up the dirt road that leads to the BLM ground. We even found a dirt road that leads right down to the river. But the river . . . Holy Crap! There was a lot of water. I looked at the positive side. “This will just make it easier to float the river. We probably wont have to drag the boats around much of anything,” I told Jeff. We left the Jeep there and headed for the reservoir. <br /><br />When we arrived at the reservoir I had a hard time not saying Holy Crap! Over and over again. There was a lot of water! We packed the pontoon boats down to the river and made a second trip for our dry bags and fishing gear. The three other times I had been there, it was quite easy to wade the river. If you wanted to cross the river this day, you were going to do it swimming or in a boat. We had boats so we paddled across. <br /><br />It was a tough day of fishing. The wind was relentless and second cast out my fly line broke. I had put a nick in it last year and it finally gave out. I often take a second line and reel, but I had too many other things to remember to take this weekend to remember an extra reel and line. I tied the line in a square knot and had to keep my casts under 30 feet or so. With the wind pounding us that was about all the longer you could make successful casts anyway. I did lose a couple good fish when they made runs and the knot in my fly line caught on the guide. <br /><br />There were not any hatches on the river or the lake and the fish did not seem to be feeding actively like they had on the other trips I had made. Jeff and I both managed to catch quite a few fat fish, but you had to work at it more than usual and they did not seem to be keying in on any particular fly. But when you did hook one watch out. Those fish are fat and full of life. I had fish come out of the water up to five times. <br /><br />Sometime around four o’clock we decided we had fought the wind enough and would head down the river and find a good place to pitch a tent for the night. We launched the pontoon boats and enjoyed a short float down to the first section of BLM ground. The property boundary is not marked, but I had drawn the property boundaries from my BLM maps onto my mapping program and downloaded it onto my GPS. We landed the boats and found a great place for a campsite on the BLM ground. <br /><br />It was still pretty early so we got out the rods and fished a little. With the water flows as high as they were it was difficult to find water that wasn’t too fast. Jeff and I began to drift our flies and I swung a woolly bugger in front of a big rock. The end of my swing was about ten feet in front of Jeff and the water just exploded. I let out a whoop and almost simultaneously a fish took Jeff’s fly at the bottom of his swing. The exploding water at the end of my line disappeared with my fly. Jeff proceeded to tell me that was probably the biggest rainbow I would ever see. “The biggest rainbow you will ever see you mean. All I saw was exploding water,” I told him. I was using good quality 2X tippet. After fishing a bit longer we decided we would go ahead and float down to where the BLM ground runs continuous to Big Creek. <br /><br />It was a great float for a while. The river was easy to float and we both got out our rods and fished as we floated along. We saw at least five small herds of elk cows and calves on the drift down and I found it challenging to hold my rod, video tape the elk, and keep the boat from running into things all at the same time. Jeff caught a fish on the float and it was quite entertaining to watch him try to steer his boat and land a fish. <br /><br />We were on the lookout for a good camping spot when the character of the river changed dramatically. All of a sudden we weren’t gliding along peacefully. The water got fast in a hurry and started to get rough. I tried to row to the bank several times with no success. Whether I liked it or not I was in for a ride. <br /><br />Let me just say I am an absolute novice when it comes to floating rivers. I have had almost no boating experience. My first time floating anything was floating the S. Fork of the Walla Walla last year. I tried it again a week later only to tear a hole in one of the pontoon boats. After that I decided a better built pontoon boat was in order and found two used Buck’s Bags boats. Jeff and I floated the roadless section of the Imnaha River below Dug Bar Road last year for Steelhead. That has been the extent of my boating experience and I don’t think Jeff has had a lot more. <br /><br />Again let me remind you that I thought the extent of our difficulties floating the Powder River would be shallow or protruding rocks that we would simply have to drag the boats around. This was not the case. The waves were big and were scaring the crap out of me when they were at eye level. I got good and soaked as well. I had a raincoat on, but did not have time to zip it up when we got into the rapids. Wave after wave began splashing down the top of my waders. After a mile or two of rapids (I am not real sure how long this section of river was, but it seemed really long to me) the river finally smoothed out a little and I was able to row the boat to shore.<br /><br />Jeff and I had a big laugh at how unexpected that was and how scared both of us were. We had made it a long ways down the river and we now only had 4 or 5 miles to go to the Jeep. Jeff suggested that we might as well float all the way to the Jeep that night since we had made it that far. He also suggested that we do it again the next day, but we should figure out a way to strap the video cameras on the next time so we could record the rapids. I thought that sounded pretty good since we had survived the first run. <br /><br />I knew there was still one more bad section of river and I found it on my GPS before we launched the boats again. The next mile or two of water was nice again and I continually looked at my GPS so I could make sure we landed the boats in time and could portage around if necessary. And it looked bad. Neither Jeff nor I wanted to attempt the corner. It looked extremely scary with a huge car sized boulder that looked like it would eat pontoon boats for fun. The really scary part was only a few hundred feet long. Below it was rapids, but it looked easy compared to some of the stuff we had already ran. <br /><br />Our options for portaging were straight up the canyon, very steep and quite a ways down stream before you could easily make it back to the river. Or we could try to find our way through a mess of flooded brushy bank. I thought we could kind of push our pontoon boats and wade/float behind them on these side channels. Jeff didn’t volunteer to go first so I did. The flooded banks were surprisingly deep and I often couldn’t touch the bottom. As I made my way around a large clump of small trees the water went into a small rapid section and sucked me and the pontoon boat down it fast. <br /><br />I am not sure exactly how it happened, but it had me pinned beneath the pontoon boat against a rock. I yelled at Jeff not to follow and worked to get free from the boulder. Once I freed myself and the boat from the first boulder, the boat and I went down the chute and after banging my shins a few times we were pinned again. A second time I got free and again I went down the chute. It didn’t pin me down anymore, but it gave me a good beating. It banged me against several more boulders and drug me head first through brush. I finally came out the ringer on the other side into a small pool. I pulled my boat up on the dirt and let loose a good string of cussing. I struggled back upstream through the brush and water to help Jeff find a different way through. We picked a different way through the brush and Jeff and I had to pack his pontoon boat sideways to get it through the brush. <br /><br />After beating a path through heavy brush we made it back to the river and put in. The rest of the float down to the Jeep was fairly uneventful. For my part, I was soaking wet and felt like I had come out on the losing end of a fight. I was extremely happy to see my Jeep. <br /><br />After pulling the boats up to the jeep I pulled my dry bag off the back of the pontoon to inspect for dryness. I had a feeling that the contents might not be dry after getting it pinned under the water a couple of times. I also didn’t get as many rolls on the bag as I would have liked due to the long tent I had in the bag. My “dry” clothes were wet. My sleeping bag was wet and the clothes I was wearing were wet. I had planned on putting an extra set of clothes in the Jeep “just in case” but had forgot to do so. <br /><br />Our enthusiasm had suffered some blows since an hour or two earlier when we were talking about doing it all again the next day. Now it was 8:30 at night and I was wet and beginning to get a bit cold. Both Jeff and I thought a warm motel room and a real bed didn’t sounds half bad so we headed to Baker City. <br /><br />Little did we know the Hells Canyon Motorcycle rally was this weekend as well. The town was full of Harley’s and other kinds of motorcycles all trying to make their exhaust blow your eardrums as they went down the road. Our thoughts turned from getting to dinner to making sure we could find a bed to sleep in. After stopping at several motels we finally found one with a freshly cancelled reservation. <br /><br />The next day our enthusiasm for doing a second float trip was completely gone. We were both wore out. We decided we would do a nice easy day of fishing the Powder River below the dam. The wind blew even harder on Saturday and casting was even more difficult than the day before. We stuck it out most of the day and fished until early afternoon, our fishing interrupted only by a short nap in the shade of the one tree down there. We had carried the pontoon boats down to the river again so we could get across. Casting would have been nearly impossible on the other side with the wind blowing so hard. <br /><br />After packing the pontoon boats back up the hill to the pickup we headed to North Powder for an early dinner and a Hungry Man omelet. If you like omelets and are near North Powder, make sure you stop at the café. <br /><br />We decided on the way home we would go over Tollgate instead of taking the freeway over Cabbage. We wanted to see where the snow was on the road to Jubilee Lake. After going through La Grande my pickup sputtered and died like it had ran out of fuel. I had just switched tanks and had one full tank of diesel still. My mind went racing through what the problem could be. After a few phone calls and running around La Grande trying to find a parts store that was still open at 6:45 p.m. we ended going to the local Wal-Mart and buying a set of fuses. Someone I knew had a fuse that was labeled “trailer battery charge” go out in his pickup within the last month and that killed the fuel to his pickup. Luckily for me, he was unlucky before me. Otherwise I would have never thought to check a fuse labeled “trailer battery charge.” After a few minutes of cranking and getting fuel worked back through the system the pickup was running and we were on the road again. <br /><br />We took the side route we had planned and were happy to see that we could make it past all the snow on the way to the Wenaha. There is still some snow left to melt off so it will probably be another two weeks I am guessing before the Wenaha is wadeable. <br /><br />Trip Notes:<br /><br />Now that I am home I thought it would be really valuable to find a site that listed the streamflow for the Powder River. So here it is http://www.usbr.gov/pn-bin/rtindex.pl?cfg=powder It is a Bureau of Reclamation site and has historical data as well as current flows. When we floated it on Friday the flow was around 1300 cfs. The other times that I fished it the river was between 150 cfs and 250 cfs. For floating, I imagine the higher flows would be better, but I will leave that judgment to those that know something about floating a river. For me, my main objective is fishing so I would prefer a more normal flow so that the fishing was better even if it means having to drag the boat around a lot of stuff. <br /><br />If you want to find the road to the BLM section of ground, take the Medical Springs Highway (203). After you cross the Powder River look for an unmarked dirt road on the left that goes over a cattle guard. If you have to go through a closed gate you have the wrong road. If you follow the dirt road it will lead you down a draw to Big Creek. The first weekend I hiked the canyon I parked my Jeep at the top of the draw and walked along Big Creek down to the Powder River. The road down looked a bit rough and steep and the weekend I was there, if you tried to ford Big Creek you would have been washed downstream. The road going up the canyon on the other side of Big Creek looks pretty rough as well. This makes Big Creek the upper end of the road in my mind. From here it is all foot power if you want to explore upstream. From Big Creek to the reservoir is 9 river miles with 6.5 of those miles being continuous BLM ground. There are several miles of BLM ground below Big Creek as well. <br /><br />Write-up by GrantGranthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11085244339942493841noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825201946690917486.post-56636401228492973952010-06-13T17:27:00.000-07:002010-06-20T18:50:01.840-07:00Joseph Creek, Wallowa County, Oregon May 29-30, 2010Bad weather reports didn’t keep me from exploring Joseph Creek again May 29 and 30. Thursday there was a flood advisory here locally for small creeks and poor drainage areas. And it rained a lot. Joseph Creek raised 55 CFS in about a day and a half. Friday it was supposed to rain, Saturday it was only a 40% chance of rain, and Sunday was supposed to be a pretty nice day. Friday afternoon I headed into the mountains above Joseph Creek. Since it was raining pretty good on Friday, I decided that I would sleep in my Jeep at the top of the ridge that night and then hike down Saturday morning, staying until Sunday afternoon. <br /><br />The weekend before, I hiked down the Warm Springs trail and found more warm water fish than trout. This weekend I decided to try about 14 river miles upstream at the northern limit of the Forest Service ground. I was hoping that this would be far enough upstream to get out of the sucker fish and smallmouth bass water. Here there is no trail. All of my maps show a trail going down and on my forest service map it is labeled #1725. This trail is supposed to start north a ridge or two from Pole Patch Canyon. Let me assure you, there is no trail there. <br /><br />When I arrived Friday evening I got out my Delorme PN-40 and found where the old trail was supposed to start. I wandered around that area looking very closely for any old paths. I found none. I worked my way down the ridge a little bit to see what I had in store for me the next morning before heading back to the jeep for some dinner and bed. <br /><br />The next morning the weather was not particularly bad but not particularly good. It was overcast and looked as though it might rain at anytime. I used my Delorme PN-40 GPS again to follow the alleged trail down into the creek bottom. A very short distance down I came to a drop off of about a 100 feet or so. The ridge to the south of me looked much better and it was fairly easy to side hill over to it. So I abandoned the trail my maps show and simply made my way down what looked like the easiest path. There is a fence near the top of the canyon so if someone wanted to ride a horse in they would have to start down the ridge I ended up on. At the top of it there is a gate. <br /><br />When I got to the bottom of the ridge I found an interesting tree. It was hollowed out in the middle and I could stand quite comfortably inside of it. The inside was charred along with many other trees on the creek bottom. I decided to leave my pack at the hollow tree and walked down by the creek to find the best spot to pitch a tent for the weekend. I explored upstream and downstream and only found one fire ring right beside the river. It did not appear to be in a spot where someone would have been camping. Again I found old farm implements lying about here and there. <br /><br />Upstream a little ways I saw an old stove sitting in the middle of a flat area beside the river. I thought it was a really strange place for a stove just to be sitting there beside the river. I walked up and began to inspect it and realized that the couple of rotten logs on two sides of the stove were the remains of a cabin. Either that was a very old cabin for the rest of it to have completely rotted away or the logs were salvaged or perhaps burned in the fire that had charred a great many of the trees. <br /><br />I finally decided to pitch the tent just below the ridge I hiked down. After setting up camp I took a few steps toward Joseph Creek and heard that all too familiar rattling sound that makes my heart jump. Not ten feet from where I pitched my tent a good sized rattlesnake was sunning itself. To say the least, I did not let the rattlesnake share the campsite. <br /><br />I fished downstream from camp working my way down to the northern end of the forest service boundary. This section was another disappointment. The rainbow’s that allegedly grew to at least 18” were sparse once again. Or perhaps I should say that rainbows much over 10” were impossible to find. I fished a woolly bugger followed by two nymphs on my way downstream and caught a pretty good batch of squawfish. I did manage to land a few more suckers as well, but the squawfish seemed to outnumber the suckers in this section. I caught some other fish as well that closely resembled a squawfish in body but the mouth was not the same. This mouth was almost square and oriented more towards the bottom like a sucker, although it did not have a sucker type of mouth. The fish baffled me. I am not up to snuff on my non-game warm water fish. Whatever it was, it grew to decent size. <br /><br />On my way back to camp I fished two dries followed by a dropper. The dries rose lots of four to six inch trout and the dropper (Barr’s emerger) caught the bigger fish in the eight to ten inch range. When I got back to camp I was a bit disappointed again. I had done a lot of walking to prepare for exploring this creek and I was getting paid back in squawfish and suckerfish. <br /><br />The next day was beautiful. The sun was shining and it didn’t seem to matter too much that the fishing was turning out to be less than expected. After all the rain and overcast days, the sun felt like heaven. I fished a mile or so upstream with similar results to the day prior. There was a nice spring with good flow coming down from the draw below the viewpoint. This spot did hold a few more rainbows. When I was done fishing for the day I walked up the hillside a ways and followed game trails back downstream towards camp. I did manage to startle two groups of turkeys on my way back as well. I got back to camp in early afternoon and packed up for the hike out. There is nothing like a nice 2500 foot climb out of a canyon at the end of a day filled with catching big suckers and squawfish and rainbows up to 10”.<br /><br />From the water I covered so far, the rainbows have been almost all in the riffles while the slower pools and runs seem to hold good size pods of squawfish or suckers. I am not ready to give up on the creek yet. I am hoping that upstream may hold some better water still. There is a section farther upstream, but still on Forest Service ground, that has several small spring fed creeks feeding Joseph Creek. I am hoping this section may stay colder in the hot months of summer and therefore harbor the elusive 18”+ trout. Both times I have fished the creek, the water has been pretty murky as well. I have no problem fishing off-color water as long as there is enough visibility for a fish to see my fly if it gets in their strike zone. Perhaps clearer water might help though. I have no particular reason to believe it will other than I want Joseph Creek to be a decent trout fishery and it has been disappointing so far. <br /><br />Trip Notes:<br />-Access by Highway 3 going north from Enterprise, FS RD 46, FS RD 4650, FS RD 150, on FS Rd 150 park anywhere you want to start down a ridge<br />-Distance from road on top to Creek: about 1.5 miles<br />-elevation change on hike: +/- 2,250 ft<br />-Flow from DOE site at mouth: 140 cfs<br />-Water clarity is definitely not good at 140 cfs, but it was fishable.<br /><br />Write up by GrantGranthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11085244339942493841noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825201946690917486.post-55660430918266896152010-05-30T09:24:00.001-07:002010-05-30T09:25:11.581-07:00Joseph Creek<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;">As a kid I remember stopping at the Joseph Creek Viewpoint on our way to Enterprise and peering down into the steep canyon with awe. Later in life as I was perusing the waters on a map I would look at the continuous switchbacks of the creek and wonder how much water was in the bottom of it and whether there was any good fishing to be had. Last year I decided to try and start exploring more waters and I bought “Complete Angler’s Guide to Oregon.” Under Joseph Creek it says that there are rainbows up to 18” primarily because of the sheer remoteness of the creek. The book also says you have to either have deep pockets to pay for access at the end of the road on private property or you had better have “the lung capacity and stamina of a mountain goat.” Deep pockets, no. Lung capacity of a mountain goat . . . I’m not sure. </span><br /></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;">Reading about Joseph creek peeked my long lingering interest and I began to think seriously about hiking into it. I first gathered the right maps. I had good topo maps from my mapping program from my Delorme handheld GPS. To get more detail of property boundaries and roads that get close to the creek I ordered a BLM map of the resource area and a Forest Service map of the Ranger district. Armed with these I had an excellent picture of Forest Service & BLM ground on the creek. </span><br /></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;">As I went through last fall and winter my interest would peek and then wane in cycles. I had a hard time deciding if I had the lung capacity and stamina of a mountain goat. But sometime in January I made up my mind and began training. Since January I have been hiking up ridges on the South Fork of the Walla Walla that gain around 2300 feet elevation, going up to 4 times per week. Most of them gain that elevation in roughly a mile. I began packing 30-40 pounds of rocks in my pack as well to get my legs in shape for the hike out. By early May I felt like I could give a mountain goat some competition even if I couldn’t beat him. </span><br /></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;">If you have googled Joseph Creek you have found, as I have, that there is not a lot of information. Your access points are limited. There is Ninebark Outfitters who own the property at the upper end of the creek and they own the ground that the county road dead-ends on. To access Joseph Creek on their property will cost you a minimum of $900. To some that may be well worth it. </span><br /></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;">There is the Chico Trail which is somewhere around 12 miles long. This trail drops down from Highway 3 to Davis Creek, climbs a ridge, drops down to Swamp Creek, and then winds its way down to the confluence of Swamp Creek and Joseph Creek. According to the Forest Service office in Enterprise, The Back Country Horsemen of Oregon go through and maintain this trail once a year. This trail is a bit long for a weekend fishing trip powered by your own two feet, but I do plan on making a trip down this trail with some other mode of transportation. </span><br /></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;">The other options are a bit more rugged. According to the book, there was a trail leading from the viewpoint on Highway 3 at some point in time. But I have found no secondary source to confirm it. All of my maps do show an old packer’s trail that drops down from a ridge across the canyon from the viewpoint. Basically you would need to find a ridge that looks hikeable and try it out. </span><br /></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;">In one of my google searches I did finally find some good information. I found that the Nez Perce tribe was given 15,000 acres of ground on Joseph Creek. What I found online was a 23 page management plan that called for open access to the public and building a trail down into the canyon from Rye Ridge Road. The plan was almost 10 years old and I could not find any other information about public access to this ground or whether or not they had built a trail into the canyon. There is also a trail that begins on Forest Service ground on the east fork of Tamarack Creek that leads onto the Nez Perce ground. </span><br /></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;">Joseph Creek apparently gets pretty warm in the summer and it is best to fish it right after runoff or in the fall. The head waters of Joseph Creek are actually quite low so as other rivers were beginning to rise and swell, Joseph Creek was dropping and looking like it might be fishable by the opening day of fishing. The only trouble then was deciding which spot to try and access first. I decided on the Rye Ridge Road access point, not knowing whether or not they had actually constructed a trail. This spot did have a pretty gentle ridge that I could walk down though. </span><br /></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;">As May 22 approached the weather forecasts were looking bad. Rain and possible snow showers were in the forecast. My plan was to hike in Friday afternoon, fish Saturday and Sunday exploring up and down stream and then hike out Sunday afternoon. Thursday night when I checked the weather forecast again it had a special alert for overnight lows to be close to freezing and snow levels down to 2500 feet. At that point I don’t think a forecast for tornadoes could have stopped me. I had been waiting and planning for this trip all winter. I called Jeff and asked to borrow his good GoreTex coat that he had bought last fall and luckily my new waders showed up Friday morning as well so I wouldn’t have to worry about leaky waders.</span><br /></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;">Friday afternoon I hit the road. On the drive over it rained, snowed, and hailed. I was definitely wondering if I had also inherited the brain power of a mountain goat with all the hiking I had done this winter. The weather was much better once I dropped down into Elgin. It was still cloudy and rainy looking, but it wasn’t a fierce storm anyway. </span><br /></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;">I found the spot where the Nez Perce ground intersected with the road without a problem. They had built the trail after all and it is called Warm Springs trail. There was a nice sign there welcoming me. I had been a little worried about parking my rig in some random spot on the road all weekend, so I was really relieved that there was kind of a trailhead area. </span><br /></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;">I threw on my pack and hit the trail. It was cloudy and looked like it could rain at anytime but it held off for the walk down. The trail the tribe constructed does not look like it gets heavy traffic. I lost it several times on the way down where game trails diverged and were more heavily worn than the manmade trail. I found my way to the bottom and sure enough there was warm water running out from under the rocks at the bottom. This spring smells a bit bad to be honest, a bit like rotten eggs or something. It must have something to do with the minerals in the water. My brother lived on a place on Grouse Flats (above the Grande Ronde River) and when you heated the water it smelled the same. </span><br /></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;">I walked to the edge of a small drop off and looked at the creek. I could see fish all over the place. There were quite a few in the shallow gravel beds and they appeared like they might be spawning. I knew the fish were definitely not trout, but could not quite tell what they were. I only had a few hours until dark so I began hunting for a good place to hang my Hennessy hammock tent. </span><br /></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;">It took a bit of hunting to find two trees of a big enough size and close enough together to hang a hammock. I had expected the fir and pine trees to go all the way to the bottom of the canyon but they don’t this far down the creek. After some searching I finally found some sort of scrub brush/tree about a half mile downstream I could hang my hammock on. I set up camp and had about an hour left of daylight so I took a walk downstream to see what the trail and creek was like. </span><br /></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;">This section of the creek was mostly riffles and pocket water. Just a ¼ mile from where I camped there was an old homesite. The roof was completely gone from the cabin and the log walls were leaning a bit. There were several pieces of old horse drawn farm equipment there as well. It seemed strange to me that someone tried to farm that creek bottom. The flat parts with decent soil are pretty narrow and short. They would have had to drag their equipment across the creek constantly to get to the next field. I guess I am just used to modern agriculture where farmers work fields that are thousands of acres instead of small acre plots. There was a sickle and hay rake down there though and I wondered where they were taking that hay. Perhaps there was a big barn somewhere down there that I did not see. I would have hated to try and haul hay out of that canyon. </span><br /></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;">The next morning I set out with great anticipation. I was anxious to revisit the water below the warm springs to see if the unidentified fish were still there. According to the DOE’s website, Joseph Creek was running at 115 cfs that day. The water was off color but not brown. I checked the water temperature that morning as well and found it to be about 48 degrees. I tied on a woolly bugger and a couple of nymphs and cast downstream to where I knew those fish were holding. First swing and wam, I had a fish on. “Man”, I thought, “that sure feels like a rainbow.” And it was a nice 12” rainbow. After releasing him I cast a few more times and had a second rainbow on. After releasing a second decent rainbow I began hooking into some larger but definitely different feeling fish. Pretty soon I got one landed and saw that all those fish I was seeing were suckers. The creek was full of them. They seemed to be spawning and the rainbows seemed to be waiting behind the suckers for eggs. </span><br /></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;">I worked my way upstream catching a rainbow here and there but hooking a lot of heavier fish that I did not get landed. Presumably these were suckers since when I did land one of the heavy ones it was a sucker. As I came around the bend of the creek to a deep long pool, I stood there just looking at how pretty it was, and a post-spawn steelhead came floating down towards me and swam right beside me on its way downstream. I also began to see small pods of small fish with dark tails. I knew I should know what they were but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what species they were. As I fished the upper end of one of the pools I hooked a decent fish that did not feel like a sucker. It got close to the surface and it did not look like a rainbow either, it was much browner. I did not get that one landed, but upstream my suspicions were confirmed. It was smallmouth bass. This section of creek was full of suckers and smallmouth bass. </span><br /></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;">I was a little disappointed, but I had a great time anyway. It was my first camping trip of the year and I forgot how good it feels to get out, stretch your legs, and do some exploring on new water. And the smell of my first campfire of the year, it was heavenly laying there in my hammock at night with a warm fire beside me. Sure it rained most of the time I was down there, and sure I was catching mostly suckers, but I was out where the world feels right. I got to hike down a beautiful canyon, and to boot, Sunday was a beautiful clear day.</span><br /></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;">I had planned on fishing Sunday as well, but decided to hike out early and spend the rest of the day exploring other access points for Joseph Creek. After hiking out I basically drove around the mountains all day seeing how close to the ridge roads led me and seeing what ridges looked like good prospects for another weekend. Stay tuned. I will be trying to explore Joseph Creek every weekend until the Wenaha is wadeable. So, probably most of June I will be hiking into Joseph Creek. </span><br /></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><b><u>Some Trip Notes:</u></b></span><br /></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;">For those who just like to hike and explore it would make for a fun hike to go down the Warm Springs trail, hike a few miles down stream to the East Fork Tamarack Creek Trail and then hike out. This would make a great 2 day hike. The Trail going down the East Fork Tamarack Creek is actually a road that leads to some buildings owned by the tribe. The public is welcome to hike or ride horses or bikes (no motors) on this road. After the road reaches the buildings the trail is not visible from google earth. I have no idea if it is maintained by anybody the rest of the way to Joseph Creek. But that last part is fairly short. There is about a 2500 feet elevation difference between where you park your car and where you reach warm springs. The trail is about 2.5 miles long, or if you simply follow the nose of the ridge you will cut off roughly a half mile. </span><br /></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;">Upstream from warm springs there is another old cabin that is pretty neat. This one has the roof partly intact and is still mostly furnished although not usable. There is a big wood cook stove in there that is half sunk into the floor and part of the roof is on it as well. There is also an old bed, stools, and shelves in there still. </span></p><p>Write-up by Grant</p></span>coachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17319295012637778079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825201946690917486.post-27779762953228422212010-04-30T19:51:00.000-07:002010-04-30T20:20:49.769-07:00Big Four: The Sequel April 19, 2010<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCCCUpAfMW5obKjXmvGUEwi95U56lToIMFe6BCyLGHpdJLphC784hMzTVi58oX9AkZI5iupYK1liHh24rJbsUsb9tIFUXfYQHnIIMbnij3agnTv724OFr1l85g7JhL_nAyO-oW0WsJ9bI/s1600/P4130151.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466134461477725186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCCCUpAfMW5obKjXmvGUEwi95U56lToIMFe6BCyLGHpdJLphC784hMzTVi58oX9AkZI5iupYK1liHh24rJbsUsb9tIFUXfYQHnIIMbnij3agnTv724OFr1l85g7JhL_nAyO-oW0WsJ9bI/s320/P4130151.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtiSbpWw6WZnw206DmICRHK3XIVR5Zst-DCl5Zg9fHhtAIrXxyNvXjxMKjPrJ73Oln5EI58nc0N7EWFfTSGTqbkLPbihmVZ8lnorlGcDv5OBGQpkehCyUdP3rshmDq8YMEbYrdHqIqIzA/s1600/P4130149.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466134446835781794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtiSbpWw6WZnw206DmICRHK3XIVR5Zst-DCl5Zg9fHhtAIrXxyNvXjxMKjPrJ73Oln5EI58nc0N7EWFfTSGTqbkLPbihmVZ8lnorlGcDv5OBGQpkehCyUdP3rshmDq8YMEbYrdHqIqIzA/s320/P4130149.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div>Monday Jeff and I made a return trip to Big Four Lake. This time the weather was much nicer and the temperature was a good 30-40 degrees warmer than our trip a month ago. As an added benefit Jeff's dad, Ted, was able to join us.</div><br /><div>It was early afternoon when we reached the lake and we were happy to see that we could pretend the lake was our own private water for the afternoon. The fishing started out a bit slow, but with a few fly changes everyone started to catch some nice fish. Ted got on a roll fairly early on landing triploid after triploid on a deer hair grasshopper that he fished wet. After the first several triploids both Jeff and I had to stop fishing and give Ted's fly a close inspection to see what we might have in our boxes to match. I tried a few hopper patterns sunk with no success and finally settled on the tried and true olive woolly bugger trailed by a chironomid or two. This rig did well by me for the rest of the afternoon. Jeff seemed to have caught his fish on a variety of different flies but did quite well with a new pattern called a glass house caddis. </div><br /><div>The day was beautiful and catching fish on nymphs would have made for a great day by itself. As the day grew long and there seemed to be a lull in my catching I decided to tie on a couple of dry flies. The timing seemed to be perfect. The fish began feeding consistently enough on the top and I think we caught as many fish in the last or two as we did the rest of the day. I tied on a parachute adams followed by a very small Griffith's gnat. The Griffith's gnat caught the most fish for me, although I could not see it most of the time. This is where the parachute adams worked double duty as a strike indicator. To cap off the day a few white tail deer walked down to the lake ignoring our existence. </div></div>Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11085244339942493841noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825201946690917486.post-37092228968981572722010-03-09T19:34:00.000-08:002010-03-09T19:44:11.498-08:00Big FourBoth Grant and I had the day off on Monday so we headed up to Big Four Lake in the Tucannon drainage. Monday mother nature graced/blessed/cursed the area with a pretty major weather change. .. temps went from the 60's over the weekend to the low 40's on Monday. Actually the 40 degree mark is my best guess; all I know is that with the wind it was cold! Even with waders, underarmour, long sleeve shirt, sweat shirt and jacket I was cold most of the day. <div><br /></div><div>Truth be told the fishing was about as warm as the weather. I managed to catch 3 or 4 smaller stocked trout, but the bigger triploids we saw the previous week were no place to be found. I was fishing a three fly nymph set up that consisted of an oliver wooly bugger, dragonfly nymph, and smaller cronomid pattern. Changed up a few times but that was the general pattern. Grant was switching between a variety of wet flies and a 2nd rod that was rigged up for dry fly fishing. We did see a good number of rising trout but Grant couldn't entice any to bite. Actually if I remember correctly I actually caught more fish that Grant..wow that doesn't happen often!</div><div><br /></div><div>We slugged through the wind and cold for a couple hours when we decided it might be more productive to head back to Walla Walla to tie some flies and drink warm coffee! Hopefully the fishing will warm-up with the weather.</div>coachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17319295012637778079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825201946690917486.post-21052725065780523052010-02-27T19:58:00.000-08:002010-06-20T19:25:33.427-07:00February 27, 2010 Walla Walla RiverWinter in the valley is giving way to spring. After tying a few flies in the morning I decided it was no day to sit around inside. The sun was out and steelhead have been moving up the Walla Walla River into the city limits of Milton Freewater. Although I have taken my kids fishing below the bridge near my house, I have never gone any farther than that to see if there is any good fishing to be had within the city limits. In the summer the river gets drawn down from irrigation and you have to go up towards the South Fork to find decent water. Today seemed like a good day to do some exploring close to home. <br /><br />I drove a mile and a half to the edge of town and parked by the Nursery Bridge. I walked upstream from the diversion damn and fish ladder below the bridge. There is a nice piece of water just upstream. Although it looked good I did not find any steelhead waiting for me there. I fished the mile and a half back to my house without managing to catch any steelhead. I did catch several rainbows and spotted one steelhead just below the bridge near my house. <br /><br />The fish was sitting in shallow water as I waded upstream. Upon me thrashing up towards him, he drifted sideways into the deeper current. I made several drifts through the area he moved into but was unable to entice him to come to the fly. It is getting close to spawning time. The fish I saw was not sitting on a redd, but I did see several redds on a different section of water. <br /><br />There were a lot of bugs out as well. Stoneflies seemed to dominate although I did see a few caddis and a few mayflies. There was also the usual tiny midges out and about. The stoneflies varied widely in size. I had several small ones, perhaps 3/8” long, land on me. I also saw several large one inch plus stoneflies crawling around on the cement below the bridge near my home. Just a week ago there was nothing but midges hatching.<br /><br />All in all this section of water is not great. There were a few decent looking bits of pocket water, but they were difficult to fish at best. Most had branches on the water over them, or a lot of limbs under water that you would get snagged on. Other spots the brush was heavy on both sides of the river so I walked up the middle and by the time I could get in a position to cast I am sure I already scared off anything that was there to begin with. This section of river also seems a bit limited by the dykes. Much of it is shallow riffle without much structure. It was great to get out of the house and see a new stretch of water even if it wasn’t a great one.Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11085244339942493841noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825201946690917486.post-29505534833217892672009-08-06T19:55:00.000-07:002009-08-07T07:19:38.635-07:00Biking (not hiking) in the BluesEarly in June the family picked a weekend for a "friends" camping trip. Unfortunately for Grant it was a weekend when he wanted to go into the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Wenaha</span>. He applied some pretty good pressure to get me to join him, but it was NOTHING compared to the pressure from my wife..well not so much pressure as a resounding NO! In the end we were able to compromise and I got the O.K. to leave for a Sunday day trip.<br /><br />I was counting on Grant joining us Sunday afternoon about the time friends and family were packing to leave. I didn't figure Grant would show up at 7am Sunday! After all the years of hiking, fishing and exploring with Grant I should have learned he is like a kid on Christmas -- always up at the crack of dawn and excited to get the show on the road! After being called "lame" by my wife for leaving early we hit the road for our newest adventure.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLqpbFSCSfX8LJ-dyxocLkPUZ9JwMxkluIUZFsTQQcMTVRgEqfp3gzYExCoAjFftpBJI-tDsfwoDwXZrDV6KfqXUnZ8blW_7J0jacepVbf8dv7gnHQPxHiE2UkM7yit6UJQ_oEFfAHWcY/s1600-h/DSC03376.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLqpbFSCSfX8LJ-dyxocLkPUZ9JwMxkluIUZFsTQQcMTVRgEqfp3gzYExCoAjFftpBJI-tDsfwoDwXZrDV6KfqXUnZ8blW_7J0jacepVbf8dv7gnHQPxHiE2UkM7yit6UJQ_oEFfAHWcY/s200/DSC03376.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367061097054773410" border="0" /></a>The planned adventure for Sunday was to take Papa Coach's two old Honda Trail 90's (one is a 1969 and the other is a 1978) down to the head waters of the South Fork of the Walla Walla from Deduct Springs. A couple years ago I took a motorcycle down about a mile and thought it was a great trail: pretty open on top, well traveled and not too steep. Great place for novice riders. Truth be told I'm a novice rider and Grant is an absolute beginner. I didn't realize he had never ridden a motorcycle! If we were smart at this point we would of abandoned our quest down the South Fork Trail.<br /><br />Once we unloaded the bikes we had a hard time getting the older one started. We played with the choke, messed with the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">carb</span> and ended up trying to start it so many times we broke the swing-out part of the kick starter! Undeterred we kept trying to kick-start it only using the post. Since we couldn't get it started I had Grant take the running Trail 90 down the trail. While he was gone I kept working on the older bike finally getting it running (and kept it running). About 20 minutes later Grant returned up the trail not looking too happy. He lost control of the bike on a rock and knocked his shin pretty good. At this point we decided it was prudent to ride the bikes on some maintained roads in hope of getting better on the bikes.<br /><br />After a good 45 minutes of riding around we both felt comfortable enough to attempt the South Fork Trail. Only problem is the older bike wasn't idling very well..in fact it wouldn't idle at all without constant "revving". On the Trail 90's this is a bit of a problem since there is no clutch. It is not possible to coast without putting the bike in neutral. Smarter guys would of quit the adventure..we were not that smart.<br /><br />With a smile on our face and no gear (no food or water) we hit the trail. What a blast! As I mentioned the start of the trail is pretty open, no drop offs and it follows the run-off from Deduct springs. However about a mile in the trail gets steep..not just steep but pucker the butt steep! We keep everything in low gear and manage, for the most part, to make it safely down the trail. Although Grant did end up getting knocked down twice.<br /><br />About 6-7 miles into the trail we come to a really rough spot. The trail has been washed away and there is no easy way around it. It probably would of been passable with some work but it was getting late in the afternoon and we were both tired. We backed the bikes up and manage to turn them around without the old one cutting out.<br /><br />Not a quarter of a mile heading back up the trail I absolutely lose control of my bike and head off into the ravine! I manage to bail off and stay on the trail but the bike careens down about 15 feet. Probably a good thing the bike doesn't idol well and cuts out (in-gear it might of continued down the ravine). Thankfully the ravine is brushy and the bike has a cushioned drop. However the drop-off is steep and it takes us a good 20 minutes of pushing and pulling to get the bike back onto the trail.<br /><br />Needless to say I'm glad to get the bike out of the ravine. A few more feet into the ravine and I'm not sure if we can get it out with a winch. However our ordeal was far from over. Now the bike wouldn't start! We literally pumped the kick-starter for 30 minutes without the slightest hint of a spark. Exhausted and parched we head up the trail to a nearby spring. Took a bit of work but we were able to drink our fill of cold mountain water.<br /><br />Again tried starting the bike..no luck. I'm beginning to wonder what to do. Do we leave the bike and hike out? The trail back is nasty steep and there is no way we would push the bike out. At this point I decide that maybe we should try to coast it downhill and pop it into gear. Hopefully popping the moving bike into gear will provide enough spark for it to start. We try several times with no luck but the bike starts to turn over. After about the 6<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">th</span> try the bike starts and I'm able to keep it running! Keeping the bike in low gear we head back up the trail. Several times the trail is so steep that I don't think the bike is going to make it. However I manage to keep the old bike running the entire trip. Grant wasn't so fortunate. Whenever we got to a really steep part his bike would cut out. Kind of ironic that I was on the bike that wouldn't idle, but he ended up being on the bike that died on all the steep parts.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmk0hUupOZZqPgSgXXBaKMUv4xb9tGegtktz_X3s8umBHPdfplrEJJVNUpCYzISp4ila3i6GIAu1NRomkZR7INRh9yQfxo8-w07e-oh9xn56J_KyDsoZhF14D65kYH8YxWnJaerTAviq8/s1600-h/DSC03377.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmk0hUupOZZqPgSgXXBaKMUv4xb9tGegtktz_X3s8umBHPdfplrEJJVNUpCYzISp4ila3i6GIAu1NRomkZR7INRh9yQfxo8-w07e-oh9xn56J_KyDsoZhF14D65kYH8YxWnJaerTAviq8/s200/DSC03377.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367060736504737170" border="0" /></a>I kind of felt bad for Grant: the prior day he did a nasty nasty hike in and out of the North Fork of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Wenaha</span> and now he is pushing a dirt bike up the steepest portions of the South Fork trail. I can say this since I'm a few years his senior -- better him than me! We ended up making it back up the trail in one peace with both bikes intact. Tomorrow I'm taking the bikes into a shop to get the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">carbs</span> rebuilt and tuned up. Who knows maybe when our memory fades we will be ready for another dirt bike adventure!coachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17319295012637778079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825201946690917486.post-85520419816143065212009-08-05T20:35:00.001-07:002010-06-20T19:24:17.500-07:00August 1 North Fork Wenaha TripI wanted to hike into the Wenaha again last weekend as usual. And as usual I was having a hard time getting anyone to go with me. My wife had some excuse why she couldn’t go, my good friend and business partner Trever had no good excuses (to me anyway) but gave me some anyway, and Jeff told me he couldn’t abandon his wife and the get together they had planned at his parents cabin on Mill Creek. I had pretty much resolved to go in solo as I did most of last summer, which can be pretty nice. If you need time to reflect, you get ample opportunity. <br /><br />The only time I became real nervous by myself last year was when I went down Elk Flats in the dark and then saw several bear the following day. Two of the bear I saw were across the river from me and they never even saw me. I had walked down the trail a few miles to a spot that I wanted to start fishing and as I approached the first run I heard a strange crying sound. The trail was a good 50 feet above the river so I stopped, sat down on a rock and began scanning the bank of the river and the brush. The crying went on and soon a small cub popped out of the brush along the river. After a few more minutes of crying and wandering along the side of the river the mother popped out of the brush as well. This contented the cub and they made their way back into the brush. Now, the brush is thick and as soon as the bears went into it I could not see them again. I tried to watch for the brush moving but after they made their way about fifteen feet into it I could not tell if they just stopped or went on. I really wanted to fish that run, so I waited another 10 minutes and then made my way down to the river and quietly fished the run. <br /><br />The next bear made my heart skip a little. Although I had seen several bears on the Wenaha, they were always at a comfortable distance with the river and a steep bank acting as a barrier. Walking along the trail I was pondering what my best plan of action would be if I should happen to meet one on the trail. As I pondered this I came around a bend in the trail and a male bear was walking down the trail toward me. After an initial “Oh Shit” feeling in my gut, I hollered at the bear and he turned around and ran up the trail. Although I was glad the bear turned and ran, I would have preferred that he ran in a direction I was not going. Thinking that I might be able to get around him and avoid a second meeting I got into the creek and tried to get above him on the trail. Apparently he had a similar idea though. As I walked up the creek I saw a large wet trail leading out where he had crossed trying to avoid me. At this point I got back on the trail and was somewhat nervously proceeding, listening for any breaking sticks or other non-me sounds. <br /><br />After another fifteen minutes of walking I began to relax and upon finding some nice cut and split firewood at a campsite I proceeded down the trail with the thought of my good fortune at coming upon such a treasure. As I carelessly rounded another spot in the trail coming to a campsite someone has labeled “Happy Camp” I saw a small cub go flying up a tree and saw its mother run to the tree, stand up and just stare at me. I didn’t feel like testing out the hollering method on a bear standing up staring at me with a cub in the tree above her. So I dropped my prized firewood and slowly backed away until I was out of sight of the bears. At this point I was thinking that I really didn’t like the trail that much anyway so I got in the river and waded upstream back to camp. <br /><br />When I got back to camp I still had an hour and a half of daylight left so I thought I would snoop around a little bit. What I found was that the bears seem to use the campsite more than humans. Besides finding fresh bear scat all over, there was lots of turned over rocks, torn apart rotten logs, and other signs of them digging around for food. Happily I did not site any more bears that trip. Although on the hike out I stopped for a snack on the trail and heard one rock rolling down the hill ahead of me. I stopped and listened and a few seconds after the first one, I heard another rock rolling down the hill. After this repeated several more times, I hollered at what I assume was a bear around the bend of the trail. My holler was followed by a lot of brush crashing so I feel fairly confident that I came fairly close to another bear on that trip. <br /><br />Back to my original story, I had pretty much planned on going into the Wenaha solo. Although I enjoy going into the Wenaha with or without company, I do prefer to have a good friend along to share the experience with or perhaps to fight off a bear if the need should arrive. With that in mind I began to scheme on how I could get Jeff to go with me and I thought the North Fork of the Wenaha might be the key to getting him to go. To explain I have to delve a little further into the past. <br /><br />Before either Jeff or I began going into the Wenaha, Trever (now my business partner) worked for the forest service several summers cleaning trails. On the weekends Trever and I would travel together and compete at rodeos all over the Northwest and on these long drives Trever, knowing that I loved to flyfish, would tell me stories about the Wenaha and the fish that lurked there. Upon telling Jeff about Trever’s adventures, Jeff remembered a story about some guy telling his father about great fishing on the Wenaha. And if he remembered right, it was on the North Fork of the Wenaha. The only problem is that there is no trail into the North Fork. There was a trail at some point in time and it is still shown on maps.<br /><br />With Jeff and I both ignorant of the trails into the Wenaha and not knowing that the trail into the North Fork had not been maintained in a long time we set out. We found the trailhead without any problems and began to hike. Indian trailhead is or was the starting point for two trails, Round Butte trail that is a 12 mile hike into the South Fork and the roughly 3 mile trail into the North Fork. They are supposed to run along the same path for a ways and then split. Upon coming to a long ridge about a ¼ mile away from the starting point Jeff and I couldn’t agree which way to go. We could only see one trail, but I did not think it went the right direction. After discussing it a bit I recommended that we call Trever if Jeff’s cell phone could get reception. Trever, my authority on the trails of the Wenaha, had never even heard of a trail going into the North Fork. After discussing it a while, Jeff won out and we headed down the trail that we could see. Needless to say we did not reach the North Fork. After several hours of hiking we turned around, assured that the trail into the North Fork did not split off somewhere further down. Later that year Jeff and his dad tried to find the trail again without success.<br /><br />Not to be discouraged by our first failures, the following year Jeff and I decided that we would fish the North Fork of the Wenaha on the opening day of the fishing season. One of Jeff’s tennis players wanted to go as well and we made plans to drive up the day before and camp at the top. The following day we were supposed to hike in and fish. <br /><br />With our trip planned and provisions packed we drove up Tiger Canyon. The weather was great and none of us had entertained the thought of finding snow on the shadowy slopes of 64. If you have ever been on the unmaintained section of forest service road 64, you know it gets narrow and has several spots where if you made a mistake driving, you would end up in the bottom of the canyon never to be heard from again. It was after getting on one of these narrow sections of road that we encountered the first bit of snow. There was not much so we simply drove over it. Not long after that we found a lot of snow. There was no way to turn around, the road was barely wide enough for the pickup and trying to back the pickup around the narrow curves and snow banks gave me butterflies in my stomach. So we decided to try and proceed with caution. It was a bad idea. The pickup nearly slid off the mountainside and it took us over a day of shoveling snow and cutting ice blocks with my chain saw to make a track through the snow banks. Once again we failed at getting to the North Fork. (Jeff has a full write up on this story and perhaps he can post it as well)<br /><br />The North Fork became almost mythological like the elusive Sasquatch. We have talked many times of trying to go in there again over the last few years but never did make another attempt. This was my temptation for Jeff, the mythical North Fork. <br /><br />I called Jeff again and tried to negotiate a trip. The trade was that my wife and I would come up to the cabin Friday night and hang out with everybody and then Saturday he and I would set out once again for the North Fork. Apparently I am not a good negotiator. What we finally agreed on was that I would drop my wife off Saturday morning to hang out with everybody while I braved the North Fork alone. I would hike out early Sunday morning and meet Jeff at the Cabin. From there we would load his dad’s trail 90s and we would try to reach the upper south fork of the Walla Walla on a trail that allowed motorized vehicles. <br /><br />Saturday morning as planned my wife and I drove up Mill Creek. After a stop at the cabin I headed up Tiger Canyon alone. I had not been on the unmaintained portion of road 64 for several years and it has gotten severely torn up from people driving on it while soft. To say the least, I was cussing a lot. The ruts were deep and 10 miles per hour was top speed on the better spots. <br /><br />It is near one of the really badly rutted sections of road that the unmarked road to Indian Trailhead meets 64. Whether it was due to one of my swearing episodes or just intense concentration on the ruts, I missed my turn. I began to think that I had missed my turn when I saw Squaw Peak and didn’t remember it. I was sure I missed my turn when I came to the marked turn to Table Rock Lookout. After more swearing I finally made it to Indian Trailhead. It was sometime between noon and one o’clock by then and it was hot. I threw on my pack and headed down the trail. <br /><br />This time I was confident that I would make it to the North Fork. I had one big advantage this time. This spring I bought a Delorme Earthmate PN-40. I had a map of where the trail used to be combined with aerial photographs. From my GPS map I also finally had a name for the trail, Indian Tom Trail.<br /><br />When I was about a ¼ mile away from the trailhead this time I knew this is where the old trail diverged. I took a hard left and to my surprise I could visually see the old trail in many areas. The trail basically goes straight down the ridge into the North Fork except that at some point in time it had a switchback near the bottom. As I made my way down it was kind of like a game of hide and seek. I would see the trail and then it was gone only to appear again 50 yards further down. The places that it was gone were the flatter rockier parts where a person could either walk somewhat easily and therefore no one trail would get worn down or it was mostly solid rock and so again there was no visible wear from traffic. When I came to brushy areas I was pleasantly surprised to find good paths through them and I can only assume that these paths are kept open by deer, elk, and bear using Indian Tom’s trail. <br /><br />The hike down was hot, miserably so. And it was steep. I thought to myself several times that it was a really dumb idea to hike down an unmaintained trail by myself that I had never been down when there was extreme heat warnings for the weekend. It was a combination of the heat, the steepness of the trail and the beating my pickup and I took on the ride there that made me think several times about stopping and turning back. <br /><br />I often looked at my GPS on the way down and was surprised that I stayed pretty much on the old trail the whole time. A little over half a mile from the bottom, the ridge gets really steep and really brushy. This is the point where the old trail switch backed. I looked hard for the old trail here or even a game trail that might make an easier path to the bottom. I finally found a game trail and began to make my way down it. Unfortunately the game trail abruptly stopped in the middle of thick brush and a nearly vertical part of the hill. Fighting my way through brush on a steep hillside is one of my least favorite things to do and I began another swearing episode. Looking at the aerial photographs from my GPS I could see that the ridge had a small brushless section about 200 feet away and I began to fight my way through to it. When I came to the clearing it was still steep, but at least I wasn’t fighting the brush. As I neared the bottom I could begin to see the North Fork through the trees. Just one last section of steep brush and I was there. <br /><br />When I got to the bottom I was tired, hot, and hungry. I threw my pack off and crawled over a large downed log to take a look at the river and get some cold water. I thought to myself, “I came down that steep &%$#^#* mountain for this little thing!” Then I looked around the small flat area beside the river. I saw a freshly torn apart log, newly turned over rocks, and a torn up beehive. So not only was the North Fork tiny, but I’m in bear paradise it looks like. <br /><br />I sat down and had some lunch with cold mountain water and began to feel a little better. I contemplated setting up my hammock and resting in the shade until it got cooler and simply hiking out, but that seemed like a waste of all that energy getting down there. Once I got on the river, the world seemed right again. The water was cool and clear as it should be. <br /><br />As I began walking down the river I saw that my trip was not a waste of time. The hike is probably not worth it if you are looking for great fishing, but around almost every bend there was water cascading off the rocks. It was beautiful. There is no trail along the North Fork and it looks untouched by man. If it weren’t for an old fire ring and a few old rusty nails in the tree at the bottom of the old trail you could imagine that you were the first human to see it. <br /><br />I walked and fished occasionally more struck with the beauty of how numerous the springs were. The North Fork grows bit by bit with each spring that feeds it. Although it is not large, it does form a lot of pools from running into the rock bluffs and there was one good sized pool created by a small log dam. After going downstream for roughly 2 miles it was almost five o’clock and I had decided at that point that if I didn’t want Jeff sending out a search party for me the next day I had better get at least part way up the steep trail that night. <br /><br />By the time I got started up the trail it was getting close to seven. At that point I was thinking primarily about getting past the super steep and brushy part of the ridge and then camping somewhere on the trail overnight. I started up hoping that I would make it back to my pickup that night, but willing to settle for getting part way up the trail if I got tired of it. <br /><br />Even though I have been hiking almost every weekend since the first of June, I realize that there are people who are in better shape than me and could possibly run up that hill, but it kicked my butt. The three miles up out of there was at the end of a 10 mile day and the heat had really drained me. The one thing I knew for sure was that Indian Tom was in good shape if he walked that trail all the time. <br /><br />By the time I got a mile away from the trailhead my clothes were completely soaked with sweat, my legs felt shot, and I knew I wasn’t going to make it out before dark. As I stopped at numerous spots to let my legs rest or to try and find the best way up, I began looking at what trees would be best for hanging my hammock. I also began to think that it might be kind of a neat experience to camp on the nose of that ridge. But slowly I made my way to the top and when I came within a half mile of the trailhead I resolved to go all the way and tried to pick up my pace. By this time it was getting dark. <br /><br />I have never been a big fan of hiking in the dark. Particularly when it is an unfamiliar area, there is no real trail, and I have to find paths around rock bluffs. It didn’t get good and dark until I was nearly to the summit. I pulled out my flashlight and made my way around the last few sets of obstacles before the two trails meet. Once on top it is a short jaunt down hill to the trailhead and I felt a huge relief that I didn’t have to walk up hill anymore. The only obstacle left was a small section of wooded area and I like hiking in the woods in the dark even less than hiking open areas in the dark. Often when I am alone in dense brush or trees, or in the woods in the dark I will sing or whistle. I do this both to warn creatures ahead that I am coming and to make myself feel better since I can’t hear every crackle in the brush around me. That night, with bears on my mind, the only appropriate song I could think of was on old Johnny Horton song “Ole Slew Foot” and I just sang the first verse of the song that begins “Bear tracks, bear tracks lookin’ back at me.” It made me feel even better that I was singing it when I heard multiple creatures go crashing through the brush ahead of me, rather than them taking off in the brush when I was at close proximity. <br /><br />Once to the top I began heating some water for dinner. After a nice hot meal of freeze dried lasagna and a dry set of clothes, I set up my hammock and crawled in. Tired from the day, I fell asleep almost instantly. Sometime in the middle of the night I awoke to hear a sniffing sound near my head. Awoken from a deep sleep I was a bit startled and my first thought was that a bear was sniffing at me right outside my hammock. I listened for a few seconds and then hollered at whatever was examining me and my hammock. I heard hooves trotting off and fell back asleep. The first deer or elk that sniffed me must have told his friends and I think I became the central focal point of woodland creatures that night. I awoke several more times to other animals sniffing near my head or walking around my hammock.<br /><br />I woke at 5:30, fixed coffee and breakfast and headed down the road to meet Jeff for Sunday’s adventure. To hear about Sunday’s adventure you will have to read Jeff’s story.Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11085244339942493841noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825201946690917486.post-55487395654834837392009-07-28T09:46:00.000-07:002009-07-28T09:52:38.233-07:00July 17 trip down Cross Canyon<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman';"><div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; "><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>As usual I was a bit rushed leaving for another Wenaha trip with Grant. We had originally planned on leaving around noon on Friday so I made morning plans. Grant, however, finished work early and was itching to hit the road ASAP. Luckily I had packed the night before so I grabbed my gear (hoping that I remembered everything) and headed out the door.</o:p></p><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg75jqlapE5KehVtCJ_nz6h3lFbBJQtmj0L_hyphenhyphenHpdsMaCOdyV-dh7DadbjeD3XOtv02YLd7G2rezQudQeK8x-OPwkcAdJiuYpWnBtwVm3DbLHddcWqNN_CCdV7-Rz6lKLaZjpsIHsA2RAAO/s200/top+of+cross+canyon.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363549972961922978" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /><p class="MsoNormal">For this weekend adventure we planned on a two-night trip into the Wenaha using the <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Cross</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Canyon trail. Would be a bit of a rough weekend as the area was under an extreme weather watch for high temperatures: in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Walla Walla</st1:place></st1:city> the temp was expected to peak at 103 each day of the weekend. Mother Nature didn’t disappoint as it was damn hot on the hike down <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Cross</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Canyon</st1:placetype></st1:place>. Bit a disappointing start to the trip as there were three vehicles already parked at the trailhead. We briefly contemplated going to the Hoodoo trailhead, but since we had just hiked it two weeks ago we stuck to <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Cross</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Canyon</st1:placetype></st1:place>.</st1:placetype></st1:place></p><p class="MsoNormal">Since there were campers at our normal spot we made camp where the trail intersects the river. Pretty open spot: right on the trail and below the <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Cross</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Canyon</st1:placetype></st1:place> trail. However based on the fire ring and make-shift wooden bench the spot appeared to popular with campers. After setting up camp we put on fishing gear and headed downstream. A bit downstream from the rock/fence area (where the Forest Service used fencing and rocks to create the trail) Grant spotted a couple Bull Trout in a deep section of water next to the bank. Was pretty fun watching the bulls move from under the bank to chase his fly.</p><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrpj_v6stT0ZxPhTi4yh-Q0FtsblZUAkczRrrhy6T9NGjVMxHmVerDhv1k3hf9sRueI5KAAoodTW2OmK_w4Km97_jNKTtFGJG1wfS5ON17pYviLAkbAY7trLeY8K1oSqdeKB_MCAZS4j6G/s200/bull+on+bunny.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363550157114647362" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /><p class="MsoNormal">Downstream of Butte Creek is the first deep hole where the river runs into a basalt cliff face. Always been a disappointing spot, we have fished the spot several times and never had much luck. Friday afternoon was no different as we didn’t see any fish. A bit below the pool is a small riffle where I had landed a nice rainbow the previous year. I drifted the double bunny and copper john combo through the riffle a couple times when WHAM fish on. And not just any fish but a very large fish! After the fish made a couple runs up and down the river my 3x tippet broke and the monster was free (of course Grant chastised me for using 3x instead of a heavier 2x tippet). </p><p class="MsoNormal">Even though it was incredibly hot during the day the temperature cooled off in the evenings. In fact it got down right chilly! The drop in temperature was partially due to the fact we were camped on an exposed area a few yards from the river. We both got chilled in our hammocks and light weight sleeping bags. Good lesson to learn -- even on the hottest days the Wenaha nights can get chilly.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Saturday we awoke to realize that a horrible, wild animal had ravaged our camp while we slept! A mouse or squirrel had chewed holes through both of packs and gotten into various food items. On of my compression straps was completely chewed off and Grant had several big holes in his pack. After lamenting the condition of our gear we prepared a breakfast of oatmeal and black coffee. Instead of same old oatmeal packets I prepared an <a href="http://www.trailcooking.com/recipes/cyndihs-super-oatmeal">oatmeal recipe</a> I found at trailcooking.com. It was a great recipe, easy to make and the freezer bag made for quick cleanup.</p><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3TXyaFw7N_KoQ5mwvfVrk-bEQEvqxywPF464RDmHguU62gqTMWhVp8b1ffGiaelBePFZ9vw6RhY9IoVgqKijWRAV41u4T63W3GcTTySz01eky9eqMDH4-kzgelIVbwI9Sjco7dSWT9CSV/s200/rattlesnake.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363550855587002802" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /><p class="MsoNormal">Since we had fished about a mile downstream the previous night we hit the main Wenaha trail and hiked to our stopping point. On the hike we ran into a decent sized rattler about 100 yards upstream from Butte Creek. He was curled up under a rock next to the trail. Not a good place for a rattler to be making home – right on the trail under a rock! Around 9am we entered the river to start the days fishing. Even at 9am it was getting hot! We kept our normal routine of staying in the water and fished downstream. At one of the deeper pools we caught a decent sized rainbow, whitefish and bull trout. I couldn’t resist naming the pool the “trifecta pool”. However I should name the pool “broken rod pool” because that is exactly what happened: in dislodging my flies from an underwater snag I broke my fly rod! Some items are special and items have special memories: my fly rod is both. In 1996 while living in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Boise</st1:place></st1:city> my wife took the time to hand-craft this rod for me. I have been lucky enough to fish many wonderful waters in WA, OR, ID and MT over the past 10-15 years: that rod has been everyplace with me! To make matters worse my 18<sup>th</sup> anniversary was in two days! Needless to say I was incredibly bummed. I was also bummed that in my rush to get out of the house I forgot a backup rod. Looks like a spare rod is a must have when venturing in the Wenaha wilderness. Earlier in the season Grant also broke a rod.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Grant was gracious enough to share his rod with me as we fished downstream. Not an ideal situation, but while one of us fished the other would look for bull trout or have a snack. I had the rod when we came to a nice looking, long run. That long run produced my best fishing of the weekend. For a while it seemed that every cast was producing a fish or a decent hook up. Like the “trifecta pool” I caught bulls, rainbows and a large 20” whitefish. What is it about Whitefish? Once hooked these fish don’t fight or put up much of a struggle. Too bad the 20” Whitefish was very deep and should/could of put a decent fight.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Once we reached the water we had fished two weeks prior I decided I was bushed and got on the trail to head back to camp. As usual Grant fished a bit longer so I hiked solo back to camp. I was having a nice peaceful walk down the trail when a large brown creature jumped onto the trail ahead of me and run out of site. My initial thought was oh crap a bear (which there are many of in the Wenaha area). However after my initial shock I realized the critter had moose horns. In my explorations of the Wenaha I’ve never seen a moose, in fact I didn’t know there were moose in the area. Rest of the hike was pretty uneventful until returning to the rattlesnake rock. Sure enough the rattler was still there, coiled up under the rock, and rattling when I got near. Tough decision, stay on the trail and pass within 2’ of a coiled up rattler or jump down the embankment into the water. Well not such a tough decision I jumped into the water and walked the river back to camp.</p><p class="MsoNormal">While waiting for Grant I had another dehydrated dinner and read my book while waiting for Grant to return back to camp. About an hour later I see Grant across the river with a big stick and rock in hand. At camp he said not only did he again see the rattler but 3 more within 50’. One of them didn’t rattle until he placed his foot next to the snake! For the record don’t worry about the snake curled up the rock: Grant made sure that snake won’t be bothering any further hikers!</p><p class="MsoNormal">After dinner we sat in the hammocks talking about the day of fishing. Grant got a chuckle out of my close semi-close encounter with a moose. He also had never seen a moose in the area. A few minutes later Grant’s eyes get big and he shouts “watch out, moose!” I jump out of my hammock and sure enough that moose is barreling down the trail towards out camp! Grant’s yell startles the moose which slams to a stop, turns around and runs back down the trail. Incredibly funny moment -- a moose almost runs through our camp a few minutes after I was telling my story about seeing one on the trail.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:-webkit-monospace;font-size:13px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsA1PC6r6mJ9zPezRTVQM3xFLB7sMmZYwqLDr97Ej7Vzq3mtcynipgQevjmM-h49ayjE_X8Q3Lwrgzq6gId_0T6j7VF8UWr4E3ZwshkXOobJXAGWmVc06cex-36S09trD6f3G5sFlD6c91/s1600-h/book.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsA1PC6r6mJ9zPezRTVQM3xFLB7sMmZYwqLDr97Ej7Vzq3mtcynipgQevjmM-h49ayjE_X8Q3Lwrgzq6gId_0T6j7VF8UWr4E3ZwshkXOobJXAGWmVc06cex-36S09trD6f3G5sFlD6c91/s200/book.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363551533983845202" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">Not much to report on Sunday. I was tired and wasn’t in the mood to fish which was probably a good thing since I didn’t have a rod. Instead I had a delightful day hanging in my hammock and read “What Angels Fear” by CS Harris (historical fiction mystery). Grant returned about 4pm and we waited until about 7pm to make the hike out. Was bloody hot and Cross Canyon is the steepest trail down to the Wenaha. The days rest did me good as I make the hike without stopping (3.2 miles and almost 2k elevation change)! Damn hard but I made it.</p></div></span>coachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17319295012637778079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825201946690917486.post-28031154068591302522009-07-20T09:33:00.000-07:002009-07-20T09:35:24.395-07:00Some Pictures from July 17-19Below is a link to some pictures from the July 17-19 trip down Cross Canyon. More pictures and a story later this week!<div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/40224586@N04/tags/7172009/">Photo Stream</a></div>coachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17319295012637778079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825201946690917486.post-61528812888803490692009-07-20T08:59:00.001-07:002009-07-20T09:00:45.002-07:00Cabela's Rods on SaleCabela's has some great pricing on their traditional II rods. Can pick up most models for $39!<div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.cabelas.com/cabelas/en/templates/product/standard-item.jsp?_DARGS=/cabelas/en/common/catalog/item-link.jsp_A&_DAV=MainCatcat20431-cat20457_TGP&id=0051121320102a&navCount=2&podId=0051121&parentId=cat20457&masterpathid=&navAction=push&catalogCode=9IS&rid=&parentType=index&indexId=cat20457&hasJS=true">Cabela's Traditional II Rods</a></div>coachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17319295012637778079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825201946690917486.post-52979344869468991132009-07-13T21:41:00.003-07:002009-07-13T21:41:49.605-07:00South Fork Walla Walla FloatRing Ring Ring .. 8am Sunday and Grant is calling to get me out of bed. We had planned to float the South Fork (and upper main stem) of the Walla Walla that day but I wasn't quite ready to start the day. After a quick breakfast I loaded up two new <a href="http://www.costco.com/Browse/Product.aspx?Prodid=11470946&search=pontoon&Mo=7&cm_re=1_en-_-Top_Left_Nav-_-Top_search&lang=en-US&Nr=P_CatalogName:BC&Sp=S&N=5000043&whse=BC&Dx=mode+matchallpartial&Ntk=Text_Search&Dr=P_CatalogName:BC&Ne=4000000&D=pontoon&Ntt=pontoon&No=6&Ntx=mode+matchallpartial&Nty=1&topnav=&s=1">Outfitter X9 Pontoon</a> boats that were on loan from Papa Coach. I felt bad (only slightly) that I was going to use his new pontoon boats before he had even taken them out of the box. But I figured someone should test them out to make sure they were safe for family use!<div><br /></div><div>Note: I have never been in a pontoon boat and only been in a drift boat once. All this is very new to me.</div><div><br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Vs2-9yJav76Ph9JZm_Esw8Ja-jJPNqg7HR1EV42n0P6QuY2SWXhcbXGoomnnWKxMmEsU75B9aJ6U3E2OLm8iM3Qp7pOYHQGVb6DFvgb6lSVqq15TZLBBgy6cIp_U2g9HLVOyEh-IP_cz/s200/instructions.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358168274668599922" /><div>Setting up the Outfitter X9 (purchased from Costco) was pretty <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">straightforward</span>. No major hitches in putting the boats together and we were fortunate to have the "help" of Grant's three young children. As Grant's wife put it "sometimes putting together things it is like an octopus in the fray". I suppose sometimes it is possible to have too much help.</div><div><br /></div><div>For our first float we headed to Harris Park on the South fork of the Walla Walla and planned to float to Milton Freewater -- about 13-15 miles. It was about noon by the time we got ready and had the boats in the water. </div><div><br /></div><div>Man what a blast! I have to say the pontoon boats are fun and very stable. Main problem was learning how to control the boats. In normal boat rowing you row "backwards" and pull the boat along. In the pontoon boats you are facing <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">forward</span> and mainly use the oars to steer..which is backwards of a normal rowboat. Lets just say it took a while to get used to the steering and movement of the boat. </div><div><br /></div><div>We had planned to fish along the way but only stopped twice to fish. The South Fork was pretty low, brushy, and had numerous logs across the river. Because of all the obstacles we left our rods <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">safely</span> in their cases. Since it turned out to be a pain to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">re-rig</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">every time</span> we didn't fish much. However there appeared to be some pretty good pools between Harris Park down past the fish hatchery.</div><div><br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_DgE4BDXsOnAK9L4Y3p3cTuyttrf9PPU9TWx5rlTVUdHJ6SVgery3M_7mP9NLiZJuvgLCkgb00RorlLhpLnF0S4vbGb6pFFO911d91aCu2KG41sDrHuNt3QRdktCcWCoXq9WM4M-wnshV/s200/grant+in+boat.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358168560014126674" /><div>Speaking of fish hatchery one of the highlights of the day was spotting four salmon along the float. Very cool to see these huge fish in the small river. One of the them swam past the boats half out of the water! Amazing the speed and power of these huge fish.</div><div><br /></div><div>I would divide the float into three parts. First third was a blast: combination of white water rafting, exploration and mastery of the boats. River had enough water that there wasn't much problem getting around. The middle third of the river pretty much sucked. We both lost an "oar stopper" from an oar and ended up being forced to use one oar as a paddle. Plus the river got much more shallow with more down trees and obstacles in the water. We ended up pulling the boats around many <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">obstructions</span> in the water. Really became a pain. Last third of the trip was pretty fun. The river more or less <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">straightened</span> out and the float became pretty easy. Plus we just resigned ourselves to go with the "flow" and let the river push us around. This seemed the easiest way to deal with only having one paddle. </div><div><br /></div><div>The float took about 6 hours which was probably a bit too long for our first pontoon adventure. Next time we will probably put in at Harris Park and float just past the fish hatchery..hopefully this way we will get in some fishing time.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'll post my thoughts on the Costco Outfitter X9 later this week.</div>coachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17319295012637778079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825201946690917486.post-29249996738544911102009-07-09T23:01:00.000-07:002009-07-09T23:05:58.970-07:004th of July Wenaha Trip<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAmR6xYHsv5uBbLZ89VcAa6r-OflS_7E4tFGb336DjbEbZ7ZEZ-8BMQS_zhyphenhyphenBJmGBUMYWlJTQgJvbozOkALYmhWWlhVlvqETt1MoJtW1DaMR7LQ78UWZAyHOlKHTs0gqZ51IbI3NrEsds/s1600-h/hodoo.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAmR6xYHsv5uBbLZ89VcAa6r-OflS_7E4tFGb336DjbEbZ7ZEZ-8BMQS_zhyphenhyphenBJmGBUMYWlJTQgJvbozOkALYmhWWlhVlvqETt1MoJtW1DaMR7LQ78UWZAyHOlKHTs0gqZ51IbI3NrEsds/s200/hodoo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356707899726877938" /></a><p class="MsoNormal">Grant and I had a wonderful four-day Wenaha experience over the 4<sup>th</sup> of July. Originally we planned on leaving early Friday morning; however that morning Grant had to replace the starter in his Jeep Cherokee so we got a bit of a late start. With new starter and battery in place we hit the road for the Wenaha river.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The Wenaha Wilderness area is close to the <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Walla Walla</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Valley</st1:placetype></st1:place> – only about 70 miles from Milton-Freewater. However much of the trip is on gravel mountain roads so the drive is about 2 hours.</p><p class="MsoNormal">From the south side of the Wilderness area there are few trails down to the river. We decided to fish the lower portion of the river so we hiked down Hodoo trail (about 3 miles). The Hodoo trail ends at the river on the opposite side of the main Wenaha trail. Water flow was low enough that crossing didn’t pose a problem. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Once to the bottom of the trail we sent up the <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/40224586@N04/3698489488/">Hennessy Hammocks</a>, unpacked our fishing gear and hit the river. For the first day we fished downstream from camp. Directly below Hodoo is a nice hole (we call the Big Hole). Since Grant is a gentleman he let me have the first crack at a big bull trout. He climbed up the bluff to peer into the water and spot. On one of my first casts I had a bull follow my fly as I stripped it through the water. Unfortunately I was a bit quick on the strips and never allowed the fish to grab the fly. I was still able to land a smaller bull in the Big Hole.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We finished the day’s fishing at Crooked Creek which is roughly 3 miles from Hodoo. Grant fished a bit below Crooked Creek and I hit the trail back to camp. I was exhausted by the hike down Hodoo in 100+ degree weather. Was probably a good thing since Grant didn’t catch anything below Crooked Creek.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Friday night was going to be my first night in my Hennessy Hammock. Grant spent the previous weekend in the Wenaha and slept in his Hennessy. However hammock camping proved to be cold and he had two miserable evenings. A problem with “hanging” (i.e., hammock camping) is there isn’t any “loft” under the sleeper. The cold area under hammock can make one’s backside very cold. I had read about being cold hammock camping so I outfitted my Hennessy with an underquilt. Also based on Grant’s recommendations I layered up in heavy thermal underwear, two pair of socks and put the rain fly down around the hammock (to keep cool air off). About 1 minute into the hammock I was miserably hot! I ended up flipping off the rain fly and sleeping in my long johns. I was still too warm and spent most of the night out of my sleeping bag. Overall my first night of the Hennessy was awesome! Normally after a night of sleeping on the ground I’m stiff and sore, not so with the Hennessy.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Saturday we headed upstream about 3.5 miles (about half way to <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Cross</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Canyon</st1:placetype></st1:place>) and fished downstream towards camp. based on Grant’s experience we skipped fishing around Fairview Bar.</p><p class="MsoNormal">In the late afternoon dark thunderheads started to roll into the canyon. As the rain drops started to fall I got nervous about our camp. I had left the rain fly off my hammock and had visions of coming back to a hammock and sleeping bag full of water! We finished fishing back to the Hodoo trail and made it back to camp just has a light rain started to fall. We were able to get our rain flies set up and camp prepared for the approaching rain. We literally got everything set up 10 minutes before a heavy downpour. Certainly was a great lesson: no matter what the weather looks like ALWAYS prepare your camp for rain.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sunday morning I awoke very tired. The hike down Hodoo and 15 miles of hiking, fishing, and river wading was taking it toll on my body. After another breakfast of black coffee and oatmeal we decided to again hit the water below Hodoo. After a good couple hours of fishing we decided to continue below Crooked Creek and fish some new water.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwcA77ADByr0jFR0okFphQcvsyP1DVb_CgagEPdPQtrX-MhAehjWPJuNNZu_YHC08otU6lyAoAoa7zpPPmZqHQ8mTVpRKCE3ghRNEg0R0BR34O-rZfzP1DRlIA6LDz_J7GZgrL3amFLMc/s200/grant+with+fish.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356708372953190898" /><p class="MsoNormal">Below Crooked Creek the fishing was horrible. Not sure why but for some reason we couldn’t find any fish. Maybe it is because the river is straighter and doesn’t seem to have as many deep pools. Maybe it is the fact that there is more sediment in the river. For whatever reason the fishing was poor and not worth the effort (at least this day). Only bright spot was a decent rainbow I hooked and landed. As we debated the merits of keeping the fish for dinner he wriggled free and saved himself from our campfire.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">On the way back we decided to fish a hole near the camp site more time. Interestingly we saw a big fish jump out of the water twice: once he was moving upstream and another downstream. We never got a good look at the fish, Grant thought it might have been a bull trout but I saw a very coppery color and think it was a big rainbow (or maybe an early salmon). After seeing this monster rise twice Grant switched to a dry fly (stimulator). We never caught another glimpse of that big rising fish. Grant did catch a decent rainbow that we kept for dinner. Upon cleaning the rainbow we noticed his stomach was stuffed full of caddis and caddis casings. Was a bizarre sight to see a fish stomach full of tiny sticks and rocks!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We had been in the wilderness area for three days and had yet to see another person. Strange considering we had covered A LOT of ground over three days and it was the 4<sup>th</sup> of July weekend. That all changed Monday morning. After a rainy morning (which was blessing since I was able to rest for a couple hours) we left camp to cross the Wenaha at Hodoo. At the bottom of Hodoo was an absolutely amazing sight – we saw the first person of the trip! This guy had packed a 9’ pontoon boat plus gear down Hodoo (his pack was about 75 pounds AND he had the boat frame)! He was planning to solo float the Wenaha to <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Troy</st1:city>, <st1:state st="on">OR</st1:state></st1:place> (planning on taking 4 days). Was a bit disappointed when he said he was going to fish using big 9” lures and worms. Big lures are one thing, but worms are forbidden on most selective waters. The fish tend to swallow the worms making it impossible to release them unharmed. This is even more troubling with the endangered/protected bull trout in the Wenaha.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With the day wearing on we hit the trail and headed back to camp. After getting camp broke and our packs loaded up it was 7:30pm (about 2 hours later than we had originally planned to leave). Not sure if it was the cooler weather (was about 75-80) or the fact I was getting used to walking but for the first time I was able to make it up Hodoo without stopping. Was an incredible feeling making it to the top in an hour (this on top of the fact we had already done over 7 miles of hiking/fishing earlier that day).</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A few miles driving away from Hodoo we were flagged down by a vehicle. They asked if had seen two men and a three-legged dog on the river. Apparently the wife of one of the men had gone into labor two-months early and just had their baby. These guys were trying to notify him of the birth his child. Only problem is they had no idea where he was or what vehicle he was driving. We explained to them we had been upstream and downstream over three miles in each direction and not seen a soul. We departed for home joking about two men and three-legged dog. About the time we hit the main road that borders the wilderness area I had the thought that the two men and three legged dog probably started in <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Troy</st1:city></st1:place>. Most people that visit the Wenaha start in <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Troy</st1:city></st1:place> so they don’t have to cross the river. We turned around and drove back to the Hodoo trailhead just in time to catch the men before they hiked down the trail. We explained to them the trail is on the far side of Hodoo and most people start hiking the Wenaha trail at <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Troy</st1:city></st1:place>. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Funny that over a holiday weekend we don’t see a single soul along the river and then on Monday meet someone planning on solo floating the river and a group of men looking for two men and a three-legged dog.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Overall a great trip into the Wenaha.</p>coachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17319295012637778079noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825201946690917486.post-75300137027984862002009-07-07T09:10:00.000-07:002009-07-07T09:42:55.595-07:00Hidden Pools is BornSo why hidden pools? I've been thinking about an outdoor adventure blog for some time now. Over the years I have had the good fortune of exploring and fly fishing some incredible outdoor locales in the Western US (WA, OR, ID and MT). As I get older and starting thinking about the places I've been I wonder how they will change over time. What will the landscape look like? What will the fish runs be like? How will we change the wilderness area around us?<div><br /></div><div>Also my sense of adventure and passion for the outdoors is small compared to my good friend and blog partner Grant. He is a true fly fishing "bum" (in the best sense of the word) in that most free weekend he spends seeking out fly fishing opportunities: often spending weekends by himself in wilderness areas. I look forward to hearing about his various adventures.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now this will sound sappy but both Grant and I have young children. I think it would be an interesting legacy to our children to see the places we have explored, hiked, and fished. Who knows maybe one day when they are old enough they will want to retrace the places we have been. Hopefully the hidden pools of today will still be a great treasure in the future.</div>coachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17319295012637778079noreply@blogger.com0