A Worthy Journey
My wife Dina and I love to take adventures in our four by four, usually to out of the way locations where there are no neighbors. Last summer was supposed to be a little different, a nice relaxing stay in a state park, yet it turned into one heck of an adventure. We took several days in August and drove over to Rufus Woods Lake in Eastern Washington. We had that truck packed to the top with everything a couple needed to camp comfortably along with a 12-foot boat and motor sticking out of the back. When we got to the state campground, we could not believe how lush, and green everything was, the grass was nicely kept, there were some beautiful flowering cherry trees, and there were marmots everywhere. Although the campground was very nice, we were there to fish, not sightsee. It was not until later that night that we learned that the best fishing was sixteen miles up the river, at a place called the net pens. Where the campground is situated, the lake, which is actually a huge reservoir, is almost a mile wide and the water is moving quite fast. By the time we had our tent set up, we had met several other campers and they were telling us that the winds in this area will start blowing extremely hard and very suddenly, making us decide to be safe and not attempt to take our little boat out on the water. After some more talking, along with a couple of drinks, we decided to drive to the fishing hole in the morning. There was only one problem with this idea; we had gotten opposing directions from three different people. It was time for us to do some exploring.
Dina and I had been on several adventures like this before. It was only sixteen miles up the river. We woke up as early as possible, loaded the truck, and headed on our journey to find those record size trout we had been hearing about. The night before, we had decided to follow the directions in the same order that we had received them. After we had driven for approximately ten miles up through some very beautiful, yet rough, hilly countryside with apple orchards as far as the naked eye could see, Dina said, “Obviously, since we’re farther from the river than when we started this was the wrong way. Let’s turn around and try again.”
We turned around and drove directly into a breath-taking sunrise. I was so happy we had our sunglasses on. If only our sunglass had been twice as dark as they were. Seeing that magnificent sunrise was worth being lost. If we were going to be on an adventure, better to have an awesome day. It had burned up a good half hour having to back track to the main road. In the back of my mind I was thinking to myself, “Are we going to get to fish today?”
Onward we journeyed, to the second set of directions. This was a very detailed map, drawn on a paper towel on a dirty and warped picnic table in the campground. The man who had drawn the map had been quite sure of himself when he had said, “It’s done pretty much to scale, and you just follow this around the lake and keep the water in view.” Off we drove, in a big Dodge 4x4 that gets 12 miles per gallon. I was looking forward to some great fishing. After driving and sightseeing, the lake was in view the whole time and we came to a dead end in an apple orchard. I looked at the odometer on the truck, and we had only gone ten miles from the campground. Now we were not only lost, we were getting really pissed off, and starting to raise our voices at each other. Apparently, we were heading back to the main road again. We were now down to the last option, directions number three. We had been driving for almost two hours by this time.
The final set of directions had come from someone that was not from the area; consequently, this was the reason for us not using these first. We set off on a highway heading south and then it switched directions to go around the lake. The guy that gave us the directions had said, it’s quite a few miles upriver just keep driving until you see the Trading Post. At this point take a left and follow it for several miles and you can’t miss the fishing hole. After being lost for fifty miles already, what was another twenty miles to us weary travelers. After 2 plus hours and approximately one hundred miles, we were able to see the net pens that people had been mentioning to us about being the place to fish. They were just down the hill, using the term hill loosely; this hill was more like a mountain. By this time, I was chomping at the bit to be fishing. As we drove down the mountain into the valley, we lost track of where the pens were and as we were doing fifty miles an hour, we flew right past what I thought was a gravel pit. I realized at the last possible second that this was the entrance to the net pens. One last u-turn, legal or not and we were closing in on some fishing. After almost three hours of driving, we spent about two hours fishing before we had our limit of monster-sized trout. Looking back, those four fish were worth the journey, for without a journey there would be no adventure.
My wife Dina and I love to take adventures in our four by four, usually to out of the way locations where there are no neighbors. Last summer was supposed to be a little different, a nice relaxing stay in a state park, yet it turned into one heck of an adventure. We took several days in August and drove over to Rufus Woods Lake in Eastern Washington. We had that truck packed to the top with everything a couple needed to camp comfortably along with a 12-foot boat and motor sticking out of the back. When we got to the state campground, we could not believe how lush, and green everything was, the grass was nicely kept, there were some beautiful flowering cherry trees, and there were marmots everywhere. Although the campground was very nice, we were there to fish, not sightsee. It was not until later that night that we learned that the best fishing was sixteen miles up the river, at a place called the net pens. Where the campground is situated, the lake, which is actually a huge reservoir, is almost a mile wide and the water is moving quite fast. By the time we had our tent set up, we had met several other campers and they were telling us that the winds in this area will start blowing extremely hard and very suddenly, making us decide to be safe and not attempt to take our little boat out on the water. After some more talking, along with a couple of drinks, we decided to drive to the fishing hole in the morning. There was only one problem with this idea; we had gotten opposing directions from three different people. It was time for us to do some exploring.
Dina and I had been on several adventures like this before. It was only sixteen miles up the river. We woke up as early as possible, loaded the truck, and headed on our journey to find those record size trout we had been hearing about. The night before, we had decided to follow the directions in the same order that we had received them. After we had driven for approximately ten miles up through some very beautiful, yet rough, hilly countryside with apple orchards as far as the naked eye could see, Dina said, “Obviously, since we’re farther from the river than when we started this was the wrong way. Let’s turn around and try again.”
We turned around and drove directly into a breath-taking sunrise. I was so happy we had our sunglasses on. If only our sunglass had been twice as dark as they were. Seeing that magnificent sunrise was worth being lost. If we were going to be on an adventure, better to have an awesome day. It had burned up a good half hour having to back track to the main road. In the back of my mind I was thinking to myself, “Are we going to get to fish today?”
Onward we journeyed, to the second set of directions. This was a very detailed map, drawn on a paper towel on a dirty and warped picnic table in the campground. The man who had drawn the map had been quite sure of himself when he had said, “It’s done pretty much to scale, and you just follow this around the lake and keep the water in view.” Off we drove, in a big Dodge 4x4 that gets 12 miles per gallon. I was looking forward to some great fishing. After driving and sightseeing, the lake was in view the whole time and we came to a dead end in an apple orchard. I looked at the odometer on the truck, and we had only gone ten miles from the campground. Now we were not only lost, we were getting really pissed off, and starting to raise our voices at each other. Apparently, we were heading back to the main road again. We were now down to the last option, directions number three. We had been driving for almost two hours by this time.
The final set of directions had come from someone that was not from the area; consequently, this was the reason for us not using these first. We set off on a highway heading south and then it switched directions to go around the lake. The guy that gave us the directions had said, it’s quite a few miles upriver just keep driving until you see the Trading Post. At this point take a left and follow it for several miles and you can’t miss the fishing hole. After being lost for fifty miles already, what was another twenty miles to us weary travelers. After 2 plus hours and approximately one hundred miles, we were able to see the net pens that people had been mentioning to us about being the place to fish. They were just down the hill, using the term hill loosely; this hill was more like a mountain. By this time, I was chomping at the bit to be fishing. As we drove down the mountain into the valley, we lost track of where the pens were and as we were doing fifty miles an hour, we flew right past what I thought was a gravel pit. I realized at the last possible second that this was the entrance to the net pens. One last u-turn, legal or not and we were closing in on some fishing. After almost three hours of driving, we spent about two hours fishing before we had our limit of monster-sized trout. Looking back, those four fish were worth the journey, for without a journey there would be no adventure.
Glen, I like this story. I understand the need that drives you fishermen, as a daughter of one I would not ask twice why we had to drive two hours further to fish the same river. It sounds like a you had a great day and a wonderful story to tell of the adventure.
ReplyDeleteLaura