Golden Trout Wilderness 2023-09-28
Maggie moved out west this past summer, and it’s been constant chaos since she arrived. We moved apartments, flew back to the east coast for her brother’s wedding, I’ve been running flight ops for Reliable Robotics in support of the C208 UAS mission, she had a number of events for work, et cetera, et cetera. We had promised ourselves earlier in the year that we would take some time off together at the end of September, and before we knew it, it was the middle of September and we didn’t have a plan.
First we looked at doing a backpacking trip around King’s Canyon, but snow and winds made the region unappealing. Ventana was a warmer option, but Maggie really wanted to get out into the Sierra; I’ve been talking it up to her now for years . We settled on a trip to the Golden Trout Wilderness just south of Sequoia. The Kern river canyon cuts right through the middle of the region, and the lower altitude would allow us to stay warmer than a trip to higher elevations. I had also done a trip there a few years back when I lived in Half Moon Bay, so I was familiar with the region.
The trail seemed to improve as we got north. First we hit the Little Kern Lake, making a mental note to stop there one evening, then the Kern Lake. From there we continued on a few more miles to the Kern River Ranger station, where the southern section of the sequoia national perk meets the golden trout wilderness. We wandered around the rangers’ cabin, waved to the ranger, investigated a sign pointing to “Soda Springs” (which lead nowhere) and then found a camp site near the river. We set up camp, then I set off to go fishing with my Tenkara rod in the last of the light while Maggie stayed back at the tent and read. Right as the sun set, I caught a ~10in rainbow on a red copper john nymph.
The weather looked inclement, but we soldiered up the side of the mountain on the trail up to the pass. Much like earlier sections, the trail was completely overgrown and/or non-existent, so I lead us up in generally the right direction, stopping occasionally to check the map against landmarks on the way up. A few times, I brought up to Maggie that she was quite trusting to be following me blindly up a hill with no trail, ~25 miles into the wilderness.
The way down wasn’t much better. The temperature climbed as we descended, but the hail returned and then turned to rain. We donned our Frogg Toggs rain ponchos and pretended to be gnomes and ghosts kyoodling down the trail.
When we reached the canyon floor, we grabbed our packs from where we had stashed them behind a rock, and had a brief reprieve from the rain under a large pine tree while deciding what to do next. We decided to make our way back to Little Kern Lake, where we would spend the night. We were banking on the weather improving the next day, when we could hopefully dry out our things and warm up a big more.
We arrived back at the lake around 6pm. It wasn’t clear if the sun was down or the clouds had simply blocked everything out, but we hiked the last section with headlamps. It was cold, but we were both warm and in generally high spirits as we hiked along. When we reached the little kern lake, I quickly setup the tent and bundled Maggie up in her sleeping bag inside. Upon returning from a trip to the lake’s edge for water, I found her fully encased in her bag, shivering and nearly non-communicative. As I panicked internally, we worked together to get her out of any layers with residual wetness and into a full, dry backup set of clothes I had brought. I had also brought my Outdoor Research down parka (for this exact scenario), which I pulled out of my bag and wrapped her up in. Finally, I made her a cup of hot cocoa and fed her as much food as I could. Thankfully she began to warm back up after a while, and I was able to calm myself a bit. We fell asleep after a while, bundled up and warm with the rain pattering on the tent roof.
The next day brought glorious sunshine and warmth. We set out most of our wet gear to dry, and while Maggie basked in the sun, I stumbled around the edge of the lake with my rod. I spent nearly two hours stalking from spot to spot, and I caught a ~15in kern river rainbow and hooked into two other. It seemed that the trout were transitioning into winter lethargy, as they were slow on the uptake and didn’t put up much of a fight.
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