Sierra Nevadas and Owens Valley
I spent much time camping, hiking, and fishing in the Eastern Sierras. Both my step-father and step-grandfather spent a lot of time up there and took my brother and I along. They both worked for the LA Dept. of Water and Power (DWP) and they knew plenty of locations in the Sierras and Owens Valley. In fact, my grandfather worked the Owens River for several years.
The spot we went to most often was Black Lake in the Palisades Glacier region. We would hike the 7-mile trek to Black Lake (the last part being a climb of 1,000 feet in one mile) and then fish the streams and other lakes (First through Seventh). Another favorite was Baker Creek. Whitney Portals was a common spot for us, too. He took us to French Lake once or twice, but that is too long of a hike (14 miles in if I remember) - good fishing though (Golden and German Brown trout). Of course, we had a couple of fishing locations only accessible by DWP employees. I spent some time at Lee Vining as well.
If our family wasn't camping somewhere else in the State, my dad would grab us boys and take us up to the Sierras to go fishing. A few times, he made it a survival training mission for my brother and I. We brought no bait and no food (so he said). We had to catch our own bait (grasshoppers) and catch our dinner. Later, he brought out the food from his backpack.
Sometimes we would spend a whole week up there, but most of the time it was just for the weekend. I was a Boy Scout and our Troop went up there about once or twice a year, as well.
My dad told me a story one time. He told me that he lost his Sierra Cup (a camping cup for backpackers) one time on the way up to Black Lake. He had engraved his initials on it when he first got it. Several years later, he was on the way up again and saw something off the trail. He dug it out and it was his Sierra Cup. It had been stepped on by a horse or mule, obvious by the hoof print. Grandpa confirmed the story.
When I was about 9 (and my brother was 6), we went up to Black Lake in late June. When we got to that last mile, there began to be snow - "Snow in June?!". About half way there, I was up to my waist in show. My dad had to carry my brother the rest of the way on his shoulders, along with his backpack and my brother's. When we got to the lake, it was 95% frozen over. While we were there, my brother and I went out on the middle of the lake. My dad saw us and had a huge fit - "you could have fallen through!" It was too late to go back, so we spent the night. That was one of the coldest nights I ever experienced. The next day we went back and stayed at Lower Sagebrush camp and fished the stream - good fishing that weekend.
One weekend, my dad brought a work buddy (which he occasionally did). We camped at Sagebrush Camp and fished the stream there one day and Baker Creek the other day. The last night, we counted the fish. Between my dad, his friend, my brother and I, we had over 100 trout. That night, a Fish and Game Warden came to our camp to check our licences. Good thing he never asked to see our catch - "Whew!"
If only I had a scanner back then.
My dad used to buy guns with beautifully hand-engraved butts/stocks from an old man up there. I think he was in Cottonwood, north of Bishop, or something.
I enjoyed the Sierra Nevadas very much and long to go back there. I haven't been there in about 14 years. I'm 37 now and my older son is 13 and my older daughter is 12 and I have not taken them (my two younder ones are 4 (girl) and 3 (boy)). Not sure why. I want to go, but I always seem to be too busy.
I spent much time camping, hiking, and fishing in the Eastern Sierras. Both my step-father and step-grandfather spent a lot of time up there and took my brother and I along. They both worked for the LA Dept. of Water and Power (DWP) and they knew plenty of locations in the Sierras and Owens Valley. In fact, my grandfather worked the Owens River for several years.
The spot we went to most often was Black Lake in the Palisades Glacier region. We would hike the 7-mile trek to Black Lake (the last part being a climb of 1,000 feet in one mile) and then fish the streams and other lakes (First through Seventh). Another favorite was Baker Creek. Whitney Portals was a common spot for us, too. He took us to French Lake once or twice, but that is too long of a hike (14 miles in if I remember) - good fishing though (Golden and German Brown trout). Of course, we had a couple of fishing locations only accessible by DWP employees. I spent some time at Lee Vining as well.
If our family wasn't camping somewhere else in the State, my dad would grab us boys and take us up to the Sierras to go fishing. A few times, he made it a survival training mission for my brother and I. We brought no bait and no food (so he said). We had to catch our own bait (grasshoppers) and catch our dinner. Later, he brought out the food from his backpack.
Sometimes we would spend a whole week up there, but most of the time it was just for the weekend. I was a Boy Scout and our Troop went up there about once or twice a year, as well.
My dad told me a story one time. He told me that he lost his Sierra Cup (a camping cup for backpackers) one time on the way up to Black Lake. He had engraved his initials on it when he first got it. Several years later, he was on the way up again and saw something off the trail. He dug it out and it was his Sierra Cup. It had been stepped on by a horse or mule, obvious by the hoof print. Grandpa confirmed the story.
When I was about 9 (and my brother was 6), we went up to Black Lake in late June. When we got to that last mile, there began to be snow - "Snow in June?!". About half way there, I was up to my waist in show. My dad had to carry my brother the rest of the way on his shoulders, along with his backpack and my brother's. When we got to the lake, it was 95% frozen over. While we were there, my brother and I went out on the middle of the lake. My dad saw us and had a huge fit - "you could have fallen through!" It was too late to go back, so we spent the night. That was one of the coldest nights I ever experienced. The next day we went back and stayed at Lower Sagebrush camp and fished the stream - good fishing that weekend.
One weekend, my dad brought a work buddy (which he occasionally did). We camped at Sagebrush Camp and fished the stream there one day and Baker Creek the other day. The last night, we counted the fish. Between my dad, his friend, my brother and I, we had over 100 trout. That night, a Fish and Game Warden came to our camp to check our licences. Good thing he never asked to see our catch - "Whew!"
If only I had a scanner back then.
My dad used to buy guns with beautifully hand-engraved butts/stocks from an old man up there. I think he was in Cottonwood, north of Bishop, or something.
I enjoyed the Sierra Nevadas very much and long to go back there. I haven't been there in about 14 years. I'm 37 now and my older son is 13 and my older daughter is 12 and I have not taken them (my two younder ones are 4 (girl) and 3 (boy)). Not sure why. I want to go, but I always seem to be too busy.
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