August 4, 2010

Today we put the icing on the cake.  We have had many memorable adventures in Alaska.  Today was our last day to adventure before we begin travelling.  We did it up right.

We had no plan as of yesterday, but I had been looking at the maps and the park literature and I was intrigued by Jack Lake.  This is a relatively large lake with a big stream flowing in and another one flowing out.  We had crossed the Little Jack Creek, the inflow to the lake, on the road and it had a pretty decent flow.  If any lake in the reachable vicinity was going to hold a big lake trout, Jack Lake looked most promising.

The park literature stated that it was about a half mile hike over a ridge.  This is wrong, but we could see the ridge they were talking about and we could kayak right up to the ridge by crossing the lake by the trailer.  I had even scoped a low spot on the ridge that would make an easier crossing.  I speculated that if the lake was really just over the ridge, we could easily drag our kayaks there.  The maps we have showed something different, another small lake that may or may not have been connected to the big lake, and about a half mile between our lake and the big lake.  I told Kris that I would regret not trying, so we set an uncertain plan of trying to get our kayaks to Jack Lake.

We were loaded up pretty well with all the typical backcountry needs.  I had two fishing poles, the ultralight for grayling and a bigger pole for lake trout.  We paddled across our lake and found a suitable landing.  We left our kayaks and hiked over the ridge, down to the next small lake.  It didn’t look promising.  While it appeared that we could easily get into the lake, the vegetation on the other side looked a little thick.  It was early in the day, so I talked Kris into giving it a try. 

We tried carrying one boat between us with me at the rear dragging the other boat behind.  This worked, but climbing the soft, lumpy tundra was hard work.  When we got to the top, we noticed that the paddle was missing from the back boat, Kris’ boat, and I had to backtrack to find it.  It fell out pretty early on so I got to climb the ridge for a third time.  From the top, we each took a boat and dragged it down to the lake.  This was actually pretty easy.  The plastic boats slide very easily over the vegetation.

We launched into the little lake.  I looked and even casted for grayling which would have been a good sign for an interconnection.  I found no fish.  We paddled around the lake and decided that if there was any hope for an easy route, it was directly across from where we put in.  Kris landed on the high ground and began trying to head up the next ridge.  I landed on the low ground, expecting it to be swampy.  What we found was that the high ground was a bit dense with chest high vegetation, but the low ground had well worn moose trails on surprisingly firm ground.  We scouted ahead and found a reasonable path to what we thought was the big lake. 

We returned for our kayaks and this time we simply dragged our own boats.  Even in mildly dense vegetation, this was pretty easy.  The boats sort of float on the vegetation and slide along without needing to do any lifting.  It was a long drag, made longer by the inability of moose to establish a straight path.  We arrived at the next water and put in.

We quickly noticed that we had nowhere to go, although I did see some grayling in this water.  We crossed to the other side with the big lake clearly in view.  We hopped out again and began dragging our boats toward the big lake.  A large swampy section isolated us from our goal.  We backtracked a little and found a channel that we could drop our boats in that flowed to the lake.  Then we noticed a branch off that channel that headed back toward the water we had just been in.  It wasn’t a complete connection, but I got through it on the return trip without getting out of the kayak and it would have been easier in the other direction.  No big deal, we were excited to have made it to the big lake.

Much to my disappointment, we arrived at the lake as a couple of people were paddling by in what looked like hard sided boats, canoes or kayaks, with quite a bit of gear.  I hate to work hard to get to the middle of nowhere and find other people already there.  Much to my joy, I quickly noticed a moose on the far side of the lake in the water.  And of course, the scenery was breathtaking.

A steady wind was blowing from the far end of the lake.  We were in a protected stretch of water until we reached a point.  I wasn’t sure what the wind was going to do, so I fished the point for a bit.  It was a predictable bottom, deep water that rose up to a gravel bar off the point of land.  The depth and the point gave me some hope of finding a big fish without the aid of a fish finder.  I had a perfect drift, parallel to the shallow water but staying in the deep water.  No fish, but another moose wandered along the shore line about a quarter mile across from me.

We beached on the point and ate lunch.  The waves in the exposed water were mild and the wind didn’t seem like it was getting any worse, so we decided to strike out for the inlet, a little over a mile away.  As we rounded the point, we found another disappointment, a couple of cabins on the lake.  This massive park still contains many private pieces of property.  It is really disappointing to work that hard to get somewhere and find houses.  No one appeared to be home at either property, although a float plane was beached at the one.  We were all alone and I tried to ignore the rich people’s cabins.

We found the inlet and I immediately saw grayling surfacing in the moving water.  I began working the perimeter of the moving water, hoping to find a lake trout.  The water was pretty deep, probably twenty feet deep or more, but I wasn’t finding any big fish.  I did have a big grayling hit my big lure, getting my hopes up until it surfaced. 

I played around with the ultralight, catching grayling on almost every cast.  I switched to a big spinner on the heavy line and still caught a few more grayling.   I fished for quite awhile as the afternoon winds died down.

We explored the opposite shore, looking for another stream that showed on Kris’ GPS.  It wasn’t much of a stream, but we were already a quarter of the way back and the winds had died down such that crossing the lake didn’t seem too scary.  We continued down the opposite shore.  I fished occasionally when something caught my eye.  The water was flattening to a mirror surface and the lighting on some of the mountains was stunning. 

I rounded a small point and saw a moose standing up right along the shore, only a short distance ahead.  I reached for my camera and tried to quickly swap lenses as the moose was trying to decide if I was something to be concerned about.  Then I heard Kris coming up behind me singing.  The moose trotted off before I could get a picture.

We were now directly across from the point where we ate lunch and I decided to troll a spinner across the deep water.  I paddled backwards as I crossed the lake, dragging my spinner in a futile attempt to find a big fish.  I approached the shallow water of the point and began working my way along it when I noticed something over my shoulder.  I was out in the middle of the lake, probably at least a quarter mile from any shore, so I figured it was a duck of some sort.  It was doing all sorts of strange flappings so I thought maybe it was cleaning itself.  I looked closer and the brown wings looked more like an eagle trying to lift out of the water.  Now I was really curious so I turned the boat to get a better look.  Those weren’t wings, they were ears.  A moose was swimming clear out in the middle of the lake.  I quickly reeled in and grabbed the camera.  I thought about moving in for a closer look, but then realized that if I diverted it from its intended path and it drowned, I would feel really bad.  Instead, I paddled over to Kris to point it out to her.  By that time, it was almost to the opposite shore, but I handed Kris the binoculars for a better look.

The return trip was much easier without having to scout.  We even found that dragging our own boats up the big ridge was easier than trying to carry one.  It is easier because you don’t really need to carry any weight.

When we arrived back to our lake, I harvested a couple of grayling for dinner.  It was a perfect end to a perfect day.  We set off on a journey, prepared to turn back at several points, yet made our destination.  I didn’t catch my fish, but any day that I see four moose is a good day.

Yesterday was no slouch either.  We rode our bicycles seventeen miles, heading over eight miles back toward civilization.  This got us close enough to check our voicemail, although that was not our goal.  It was a pleasant ride even though it was a bit hot and the nice weather seems to have brought a few more cars up and down the road, kicking up a little dust as they went by.  We had a nice chat with a ranger who seemed excited about someone riding a bike through his park.  His enthusiasm was refreshing.  We saw a couple of golden eagles who announced their presence with a screech reminiscent of a pterodactyl in a movie.  We rode over the divide.  I threw a few drops of water on the ground on either side, wishing them well on their journeys, one side to the nearby Copper River dumping to the Pacific and the other taking a long loop that eventually ends up in the Yukon, dumping out in the Bering Sea.  None of my drops will make it since they probably quickly evaporated in the hot sun.