My dad loves fishing. When we lived in Alaska, he never went anywhere without a fishing pole. When I was around 10 years old, my dad heard of this great place to go fishing in the High Uintas Wilderness Area. His friend gave him instructions on how to get to the trail head. So my dad, brother, and I packed up into the station wagon. We drove through the day and into the night. The final instructions for getting the to the trailhead were to turn onto a dirt road and go up the dirt road as far as you can go in a car, and the trail head will be right there. So when the road got too rough to continue we stopped and camped for the night.
The next morning we woke early and, looking around, could not see any trailhead. My dad figured we turned onto the wrong dirt road, so we decided to continue up the rough road on foot, and work our way to where it seemed we should be. The road really wasn't much of a road, and at times my dad had to take his belt off and use it like a rope so I could climb up some of the small cliffs we were ascending. Finally we arrived on top of a ridge. We could see a basin below with some lakes and figured that is where we were suppose to be. So we dropped off the ridge down into the valley. There was no trail to follow, so we were jumping from large rock to large rock, and climbing over and under fallen trees. Eventually we came to a sign that said Little Dog Lake. Lake is an exaggeration, it was more of a mosquito pond. We tried fishing in the "lake" but I doubt there are any fish in that pond.
At this point we decided the best thing to do would be to go back to the car. We could hear a stream off in the distance and my dad figured that if we kept in hearing distance of the stream and continued down the draw we would end up at the car. We continued bushwhacking and ended up at the car as planned. Then to our surprise we saw a few other cars parked down the road. We had driven about 1/2 mile too far up the road.
We were tired from a long journey with no trail, but my dad loves fishing so much we decided to drop all the gear at the car to lighten our load and take a quick trip up to the lakes. Hiking the actual trail was so easy after what we had been through. We spent a little time fishing and then headed back to the car to camp for the night. The next day we hiked up to the lakes one more time before we had to head home. We figured we hiked about 50 miles that weekend, much of it in rough conditions. I still remember how wonderful the milkshakes were for three very tired, dirty, and I imagine quite stinky guys.
The next morning we woke early and, looking around, could not see any trailhead. My dad figured we turned onto the wrong dirt road, so we decided to continue up the rough road on foot, and work our way to where it seemed we should be. The road really wasn't much of a road, and at times my dad had to take his belt off and use it like a rope so I could climb up some of the small cliffs we were ascending. Finally we arrived on top of a ridge. We could see a basin below with some lakes and figured that is where we were suppose to be. So we dropped off the ridge down into the valley. There was no trail to follow, so we were jumping from large rock to large rock, and climbing over and under fallen trees. Eventually we came to a sign that said Little Dog Lake. Lake is an exaggeration, it was more of a mosquito pond. We tried fishing in the "lake" but I doubt there are any fish in that pond.
At this point we decided the best thing to do would be to go back to the car. We could hear a stream off in the distance and my dad figured that if we kept in hearing distance of the stream and continued down the draw we would end up at the car. We continued bushwhacking and ended up at the car as planned. Then to our surprise we saw a few other cars parked down the road. We had driven about 1/2 mile too far up the road.
We were tired from a long journey with no trail, but my dad loves fishing so much we decided to drop all the gear at the car to lighten our load and take a quick trip up to the lakes. Hiking the actual trail was so easy after what we had been through. We spent a little time fishing and then headed back to the car to camp for the night. The next day we hiked up to the lakes one more time before we had to head home. We figured we hiked about 50 miles that weekend, much of it in rough conditions. I still remember how wonderful the milkshakes were for three very tired, dirty, and I imagine quite stinky guys.
Fishing is indeed a great family bonding - every family members will surley enjoy every moment of it.
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