Sadly on my second cast I lost my fly. It sat stuck just beneath the surface in the middle of the creek taunting me. We looked downstream and noticed that the usual spot was now open. Now semi-experienced hikers we decided to cut through the brush on the bank to reach the spot. Big mistake! I was the first to fall. Carrying my rod and camera, I slipped while trying to cross a fallen tree. I fell 5 ft down and landed on my knees. Somehow I managed to bruise my tailbone and rip my pants on the way down but I was otherwise unharmed. Now, however, I was stuck in a hole with no footholds to help me out. Jim came to help and take my rod but as he reached across the tree he fell as well this time plunging into the creek below. After realizing he was only slightly harmed I could not help but take a picture.
We slowly and carefully made our way to "the spot." Relieved and excited I reached for my rod only to find that a piece of it had gone missing along the way. Jim cast a few but we were both tired and wet and ready to go home. Our hike up the hill was uneventful and we reached our car safely. Our beautiful day turned out to be quite eventful and certainly a day that we will always remember...and for a bit more excitement, as I am writing this a black bear just walked past our front window.
1 comment:
I hope everyone is ok. The desire to go off the trail is kinda a funny feeling. Why do we want to step off into the unknown? I had the same feeling when I was hiking around Connell Lake. It's a strange being that far away from "civilization" and still wanting to go further.
I stayed on the trail but as we kept walking it was more and more difficult to decipher exactly what was and what wasn't trail. In all, it was only a round trip of 3 miles. With the rain / liquid sunshine and the terrain it was a pretty strenuous trip. You only scale 100 feet or so but you do 3-4 times... and we are far from knowing what we're doing.
The experience was incredible though. The moss that covers everything deadens sound coming from all directions, creating an enhanced feeling of solitude. The shades of green are more brilliant and deep than anything I've seen before and the size of the Sitka are inspiring. Easily, the largest trees I've ever seen... (have yet to see a redwood). Finally, I had the strangest feeling of being watched... not by the animals. It was as if I had a 1,000 year-old relative, wise and all-knowing, watching lovingly but commanding total respect.
I can see how a few months would make you feel like you could take your hiking to the next step. My hike gave me both a most humbling feeling as well as an experiential respect for Alakan wilderness.
I've gone off the path up on the Lake Superior Trail in Minnesota. I ended up exhausted, dehydrated, and barely able to make it back to camp by sunset. I wasn't going to take my chances.
Thanks again guys,
Adam
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