As we climbed up the mountainside on an old dirt road, with every switchback, our wheels slid across the rocks. We eventually made it to the top of the mountain, and followed similar dirt roads and switchbacks, and winded our way down to the lake. Finding a good spot to launch, we unloaded our inflatable boat and stacked all our gear and necessities in a neat pile before we tucked our truck away in a patch of sagebrush, willows and pine trees.
We finished inflating our boat, then loaded our life jackets, throwable cushion, fishing rods adorned with brand new shiny lures, our freshly organized tackle boxes, fishing licenses, and sack lunches. We found a nice flat area where we could easily slide our boat and get into the water. As we walked to the water’s edge, our shoes got wet, and we felt the chill of the lake. You could just smell the crispness in the air and the aroma of fresh mountain trout just waiting to be caught.
Little did we know the adventure we were about to embark upon. Even though you follow all the rules, laws and precautions, sometimes the unexpected just happens! We set out, paddling across this serene mountain lake about to encounter grizzlies, moose, an otter and hypothermia awareness.
Grizzly Bears
We paddled across the lake early in the morning, heading toward our favorite fishing spot. It was a small outcropping in the water surrounded by willows and large pines behind it growing up the mountainside. We were about 10 feet off the shore and just started catching a few trout. My son JohnJohn said “look there’s a bear cub!” Luke and I turned around and noticed not only one, but two bear cubs exploring a bit too close for comfort. We immediately knew we were not in a safe spot. For one, we had fish on board, and two, we were in very close proximity to the two grizzly bear cubs.
Knowing that grizzlies love fish, we also knew we would soon see mama bear nearby. After carefully scanning the area and as expected, mama bear quickly emerged. She came crashing through the brush in our direct line of sight. We found ourselves in a compromising situation. With the wind blowing in our faces, we knew the bear spray attached to our belts would be useless. The .44 Magnum I carry for self-defense was my only option if she attacked. But I did not want to use it because I would be orphaning two cubs, so we did the next best thing: We paddled. We paddled hard, and we paddled fast!
Marauding Otters
A few hours later, we were still fishing, now in the middle of the lake. We decided to try another spot on the other side of the lake. We paddled over there, dropped our anchor, and started catching some nice trout. The spot soon played out after we landed a few trout on the stringer, so we were scanning the lake to see where we should paddle to next. We moved further down the shoreline and saw something moving in the water a few hundred yards ahead of us. My son Luke said, “Mom, there’s not supposed to be any alligators up here, right?” We cautiously moved closer to investigate and saw the biggest bull otter we have ever seen! He was fishing and apparently doing a much better job than we were! Every time he dipped under the water, he popped up with a fish between his paws, rolled onto his back, and started eating the fish, appearing to taunt us!
We figured if an otter is in the area there would not be any fish biting our lures. We immediately pulled in our stringers because we knew the otter would soon be after our fish. We made a few more casts in the same area while closely watching the otter. After a few minutes with no bites, we pulled up our anchor and paddled over to another spot. No sooner did we drop our anchor and cast out, Mr. Otter popped his head up right next to our boat. Once again, we pulled up our stringer and anchor and kept paddling down the shoreline. Dropping our anchor and casting out again, up popped the otter right next to us a third time. We moved even further down the shoreline and soon realized the otter had effectively run us out of “his” fishing honey hole!
Hypothermia
If you have ever launched, paddled, and fished out of an inflatable boat, you know one thing: It is impossible to remain completely dry. Every time you cast a line, reel it up, drop an anchor, pull it in, and put your hands in the water to rise off the fish slime, you are continually adding water into the boat. Drop by drop the water pools at the bottom of the boat and the level rises at your feet. And your feet stay cold no matter how many layers you wear when they get wet. Remember these mountain lakes are fed from snow runoff and are very, very cold, especially to someone from the warm south of Texas.
Being wet in these conditions gets your mind thinking about hypothermia. Then, suddenly you get a mountain shower. We know it would not be complete without a good dose of hail on top of that. As the cold wind rips through your clothing, you start to shiver. Outside of bundling up, bailing out water from your boat, and removing wet items, there is not a whole lot you can do except be prepared for these conditions, and have dry clothing, socks, extra shoes, and towels in your vehicle when you come off the water.
Mama Moose
After a long day of dodging grizzly bears, marauding otters, and fighting off hypothermia, we were exhausted. In the end we each caught our daily bag limits and were thinking about how good those freshly caught mountain trout are going to taste cooked over the fire tonight. As we paddled our way back across the lake, we were fighting headwinds and some choppy waters. With our shoulders and arms starting to wear out fighting the elements with the oars, we finally approached the boat launch near our truck. As we pulled up to the boat ramp, the biggest moose I had ever seen stepped out. Standing more than six feet tall, it had a shiny black coat and water dripping from its belly. We all froze and locked eyes with the big brown moose eyes staring back at us. The look she was giving us sent shivers down our spines and we were wondering why she looked so alarmed.
We quickly noticed her little calf standing beside her, about 3 ½ feet tall, following in her mama’s actions and staring us down. With the windy lake to our backs, a grizzly bear on one shore, an otter on the next, and a protective mama moose ahead separating us from my truck, we instinctively and quickly paddle backwards. She eventually took her calf and wandered off into the willows.
During our eight-hour trip we were rushed by a mama grizzly, chased by a very hungry otter, fought off hypothermia, and lastly had a standoff with a mama moose. There is no such thing as “just a” hike, “just a” camping weekend, or “just a” fishing trip. It’s the “little” things that make it an adventure to remember for a lifetime.
