Best Weeks Ever: Part Two of Three – Granddaddy Basin

On Monday Aug 17th we (Jacob Wall, his dad Don, his bro-in-law, Alex and I) left for a hiking/camping/fishing trip to the Granddaddy Basin in the high Uinta Mountains. I don’t think the trip could have been much better… unless it was a little longer. Even the weather was perfect.

We headed up at about 830am and reached the trailhead around 1030am. It was good weather, slightly cool, for the 4.5 – 5 mile hike… with each of us packing about 40lbs or so, cool weather was welcome. Although it did heat up as the day went on we found our campsite (one Don used to frequent when he was much younger) and we set up camp. It was great spot next to an infamous giant rock table and a couple of fresh mountain springs. There was still quite a bit of daylight left so we grabbed our poles and went fishing – expecting to one in with just about every cast (according to the stories we’d heard and read about for the area lakes). That wasn’t the case. We camped near Mohawk Lake (supposedly a promising fishing lake) but as dusk fell, we never even saw fish jumping, let alone got a bite or a catch. We ate Mountain House meals that night.

I must have overdone myself (as I usually do) hiking to other remote lakes and up the side of West Granddaddy Mnt. Looking for other fishing holes. It didn’t help that I have such a one-track mind at times and I forgot to eat much during the day. My body was spent and my head started pounding that night. I ended up throwing up a few times before calling it an early night hoping the rest would be enough to recoup for the remainder of the trip.

I woke up the next morning fairly refreshed and ready to fish. Wall (Jacob) and I made eggs hash browns and bacon for breakfast and the hot coco was perfect for taking the edge off the morning chill. After getting skunked at Mohawk and its surrounding ponds we decided to hike over to Shadow Lake where Don guaranteed us a catch or two. It was about an hour hike and when we arrived the lake (or so we thought) was gone. In its place were some spring streams that looked to be the remains of the lake. We all caught a few small, 6-8 inch, brookies (brook trout) fairly quickly. My first two were off a small frog I had found on my way over. After a while we stopped to eat lunch and get out of the sun and rest a bit. After looking at the map a little closer, Wall noticed we couldn’t possibly be at Shadow Lake. We decided to follow the main stream down and see if his hunch was right. Sure enough, about a 1/4 mile down we came to Shadow Lake, bigger and more beautiful than ever. As promised the fishing there was great. I caught a few larger (9-10in) trout that I kept and Don and Wall caught and released a few as well.

It was starting to get a bit late so we decided to head back to camp. Alex, Wall and I chose to take a “shortcut” up the side of a cliff while Don took the trail. Although we beat Don back to camp, we’re still not sure which way was actually faster since he (Don) claimed he had stopped by Betsy Lake on his way back to scope out the fishing there.

We ate fish and rice that night. Don fried up the fish with some butter salt and pepper in a pan. It was delicious!!! Great thing about trout is: no scales. So when you fry it up and get the skin crispy, it’s just like fried chicken… only, better, because it’s trout. :)

The next morning we decided to fish Betsy Lake since it was so close and seemed to have more fish at least jumping in the water than Mohawk. The entire morning was a bust, except for the old crappy lure Wall retrieved from the lake thinking it could be a gold ring or something of value. He tried to get it without getting too wet, but even his floating one log “raft” backfired on him and he ended up going completely under… which, he would have had to do regardless since the lure was under about 4 ft of water. If nothing else, it was entertaining for Alex and I to watch. We built a small fire and Wall dried his clothes then we headed back to camp at Mohawk.

Don was off fishing somewhere else (we didn’t know where) and Alex and Wall wanted to take a nap, so I decided to head back to Shadow Lake alone to catch some fish. After all, this was a fishing trip. I made the long hike back to Shadow, taking the “shortcut” down the cliff. It was both peaceful and a little scary being out there all alone… not another soul around for who knows how many miles. It was so quite, with the exception of the occasional wind blowing through the trees causing random creaks and moans from the forest around the lake. I enjoyed the solitude, peacefulness and fishing but when it looked like I had hit the fishing dead zone (between 1 and 4 pm) I decided to just head back to camp with my catch.

I got back to camp and no one was around. I figured they had all decided to head up to the West Granddaddy Mountain peak high above our campsite. I couldn’t see them anywhere on the bare mountain and wasn’t sure when they’d be back. The four small fish I had caught and cleaned at Shadow were in need of being cooked and eaten since they had already been in my warm pack in the sun the entire hike back to camp. I waited close to an hour before deciding to just cook them up and eat them myself so they wouldn’t go to waste. Although I wasn’t as good a cook as Don, they were very good and was just what I needed to give my stomach something to digest while I took a short nap waiting for everyone to return.

Some time later I woke up to the sound of Don returning to camp to test his blood sugar level. A short time later Wall and Alex returned. I felt a little bad to discover Don had caught a couple of decent sized trout (about 10in or so) that morning in Betsy Lake and had them on a stringer in the lake near camp. With his two and my four small ones from Shadow, we could have all had a good little meal. Instead I told them to eat the two themselves since I already had some fish earlier.

Don told us about his success at the south end of Betsy Lake and said he caught several other (larger) fish there too earlier that morning but failed to land them. We decided to give Betsy one more try (despite getting hosed earlier that day) and followed Don to the “hot spot.” On the south end of Betsy there were two DEEP coves. Both were hopping with fish. We started casting very optimistic to catch something. Hours must have passed with no success. Everyone was using flies since that’s what Don was using when he had his success. I never gad a single hit after going through SEVERAL different flies so I decided to go back to worms – this meant I had to hunt for worms. Don found an abandoned worm container on the far side of the cove and said there was one sad looking worm in it. I decided to use it since there didn’t seem to be a worm to be found under any of the rocks or logs within a 1/4 mile of the lake. I wormed up my hook and cast in. My first cast I caught a fish! It was a decent sized (about 7 or 8 in) trout. I cast in again and called for Alex (who had given up fishing for the night) to bring me a stringer. By the time he got over I started to reel in my line only to find I had another fish! This one was a bit larger too! It was starting to get dark and cold and Alex and Wall (who hadn’t caught anything all day) were ready to go home. Don caught three good-sized fish (one about 13in) and was satisfied and ready to head back to camp. I decided to go for one more cast. I reeled in a good 12 inch brown trout! It was great to catch a fish on my last cast and even better that it was so big! The icing on the cake was that this was my first brown trout ever!

We ate the six fish that night and finished off the Mountain House dinners to make sure we’d have enough energy for the hike out the next day.

We woke up the next morning and took our time cleaning up camp and packing to head out. Somehow, against all the laws of physics, each of us was POSITIVE we were hiking out with a heavier pack than we had come in with. Wall and I had reasonable grounds to stand on with the theory that our packs were heavier since he took the tent for his dad and I took much of his pack to make room for the tent. We took our time hiking out and all went well. The ride home went quickly and I weighed my pack just to see if I was right in my assumption. Yep, my pack was a few pounds heavier going out than coming in… that means someone had a MUCH lighter pack on the way out.

It was a great trip! We all look forward to doing it again next year and maybe with a larger group! We really wanted Bret to come and I think my dad would really enjoy it too. Next year I’m going to hike to the summit of West Granddaddy Mountain since I missed out on it this year and I plan on taking a LOT more photos and video clips – even if they don’t do the area justice!