I've moved!

Hey everyone, I have recently moved from a blogger account to an actual website. Come on down and check out my latest story http://www.tysongoesoutside.com/ and don't forget to resubscribe please.

YouTube Channel!

             Hey, I know I usually do a nice long story on Thursdays but today I was busy... Busy starting a YouTube Channel for the few videos I have and for all the videos to come! Come check out my channel HERE and the latest video HERE don't forget to like, share, subscribe, and comment.
              For those of you who have been reading along to my previous posts you will see the truck from "Unnamed Lakes" mountains from "One Does Not Simply Walk Into Tongariro" scenery from "Fiji Time" and even a bit of "Crypt Lake". This video as well as a few others I will post, are from a time when the idea of a blog or a YouTube channel were just a day dream that I didn't take seriously. On this new channel I have also put up the old video I posted called "Pike On The Fly".

One Does Not Simply Walk Into Tongariro

          All of you who know me are likely getting tired of my New Zealand stories. That said I'm sure a few of my readers (OK maybe two or three) haven't heard this one yet.

           As I have stated earlier, in the spring of 2011 I found myself in New Zealand. Before my trip I had never really done much hiking, in fact the only real hiking I did previously would be more accurately described as a drunken stumble home from the bar... Either way hydration was still a factor. While I was preparing for my trip I was informed of just how important good footwear is. I originally intended to just pack along some slip on skateboarding shoes, since hiking shoes in size 14 are hard to find and a bit on the expensive side. I was luckily persuaded to stop being so cheap and just buy a pair. They proved to come in very handy.

           Once I arrived in NZ I was informed that we were going to do the Tongariro Alpine Crossing needless to say I was not exactly excited to do a 20 km hike. I was persuaded when Erin told me that the national park was used as the setting of Mordor in the Lord of the Rings movies. Also I'm not a particularly smart man but, I know better than to say no to a woman when we're on vacation.

           We first went to the town of Taupo, got a hostel and got settled in. It was a nice place, big kitchen, sauna, private room, and central heating. I had to laugh that the worker at the hostel felt the need to explain central heating to two Canadians "hot air come out of these holes in the floor, so don't cover them"  "tell me more about your magic Mr. Wizardman" I though in my head, but I'm Canadian so I just listened patiently, nodded and said "thank you."
 
            The next morning we jumped on an early morning bus which took us out to the trail head. Our journey began and naturally, as per usual, I had a wicked stomach ache, I was glad to find that there was a washroom at the trail head.

Ok so its not 20km but very close

           The first bit of trail resembled the prairies with which I am very familiar, however this was a bit rockier and had an amazing view of the mountains. We reached the edge of the first mountain and before the climb began I spotted another washroom... bonus... no wait that's a no go on the bonus, they were out of toilet paper. I opted to wait for the next washroom since I like my socks and my bandanna a little too much.

View from the top of the first climb

                 Of course we did some more uphill climbing until we reached a plateau where the trail separated: one way was to continue to trail to the end, the other was to climb to the top of Mt. Ngauruhoe (also known as Mt. Doom for LOTR fans). Sadly given how long it had taken me and my out of shape body to get to this point, climbing to the top of a nearby mountain didn't seem feasible. I would be lying if I said I didn't occasionally lose sleep regretting not being able to see the top of Mt. Doom, maybe someday Ill get another chance. At the plateau there were a lot of people taking a break, grabbing a snack from packs, and taking photographs. Erin and I took a few pictures of ourselves until a kind stranger offered to take a photo for us. He snapped one, looked a it and said "wait let me try again" he did this a few times until he got one he was happy with. I am eternally grateful to this kind stranger because it got me this.

I can't think of a photo I like more

             We then continued along the plateau as it dipped down into a large geological dish as we approached the far side I saw a rather narrow uphill path covered with snow. I noticed something kinda funny, there were a lot of people struggling up the center of the path on the snow that had been trampled into ice and nearly no footprints on the light powder along the edges. As a woman slipped and struggled on the ice I walked past her and politely mentioned that the snow, despite being deeper, would be easier and safer. I felt kinda like a jerk offering tips to a grown woman but I get the impression she wasn't too familiar with the dynamics of snow. The top of this portion of the trail rewarded us with a beautiful view of most of the trail.

Emerald lakes and seemingly endless mountain ranges

             From here the trail continued as a snowy downhill path, I glanced at the snow-challenged hiker, then at Erin and decided to ride down on the snow as though I were tobogganing, at first I tried just sitting and going, and that worked well, but then I realized my backpack had a toboggan feature... the salesman never mentioned that and it sure worked well. Naturally everyone who saw assumed I was crazy, and who am I to say they're wrong.

It was so fun I almost went back up to do it again

          We then continued along another gentle flat portion toward yet another emerald coloured lake. Along the way something in the ground caught my eye, a funny looking white rock that just seemed out of place, naturally I picked it up, to my surprise it was actually a necklace. That's right folks I found jewellery in Mordor! Its not a ring, but Ill still take it. Here's a photo of it after I cleaned it off a bit.

My precious

      We then found our way to the lake on the far side, me still talking about how cool it is to find a necklace. We opted to stop for some photos and some lunch.

This photo took more tries than you would think

Kind looks like a weatherman in front of a green screen

Ham sandwiches taste better at higher altitude (I might make that my new catch phrase)

      Our hike now lead us downhill... about time I say! It lead us along a narrow mountain ledge where we encountered people doing to trek in the opposite direction, I'm told this takes longer and is harder to do. This led to a few slight traffic jams as the trail get a bit narrow at points, but everyone survived so that's good.

Erin's on the edge!

    The path eventually led us to another set of bathrooms, that were again devoid of toilet paper... I now pack my own everywhere I hike for fear of repeating this event. We continued on our way and eventually the narrow mountain trail turned into what resembled a tropical rain forest... oh wait... is it actually a tropical rain forest in New Zealand? Ill look into that later. Either way there was a lot of vegetation and it was beautiful.

Nearly at the end, very encouraging

Here, let me open that for you

          We eventually reached the end of the trail and I was "relieved" to find they had fully stocked washrooms.

  

          This is the first actual hike I had ever taken, especially one of this length. At the time I enjoyed it immensely but had no real appreciation or scope of how lucky I was to get a chance at this hike, many hikers, especially those in North America, would consider this a life's dream, and here I was able to do it on a whim as a first time hiker. Even stranger, between my stomach ache and distance of the hike itself I nearly opted not to go, but Erin made me, and I'm certainly glad she did.
           

            The bus shuttled us all back to our respective hostels, Erin and I reheated some pasta from the night before and promptly passed out... I guess in some respects this hike was like my drunken hikes home from the bar, but I wont be telling those stories here. To my shock, luck and amazement the only thing that hurt the next day was my shins. Good thing too, since we had a lot more adventuring to do while we were there. Next up was caving in Waitomo, but that's another long winded story for another time.  

Crypt Lake

       In the spring of 2012 Erin and I found our way to Waterton National Park. For me this was my first trip to Waterton and I was very excited. A few weeks before our trip a friend had told me about a hiking trail called Crypt Lake. After some internet searching I became rather excited by the idea of taking a boat across the lake and climbing a mountain to a glacier, what can I say? That sort of thing just appeals to me.

       The first night we spent at the only campsite we could get reservation for, I'm the play it safe kinda guy. It was right in the heart of town. It was a nice campsite but I feel that something is lost when you camp inside a town with that many other people. The second day we did a short day hike wherein I was passed by a troop of girl scouts, those little ladies hike like they came down from a higher league. Afterward we tried our luck at a campsite outside of town and sure enough they had some space. It was great it had two things the town campsite did not, a lot of trees and a fire pit... to be enjoyed separately. We bought some firewood, which to me always feels weird, and cooked up some delicious hot dogs and had a solid sleep.

         The next morning the plan was to buy tickets to get across the lake and enjoy the Crypt Lake hike. Unfortunately my unruly stomach had other plans, I ended up vomiting violently in the marina parking lot. Since I felt so on top of the world we opted not to try and hike a mountain that day. We drove the truck around a little bit, driving helps settle my stomach. I then texted my friend Jonas, who grew up in southern Alberta and had originally suggested Crypt Lake, and asked if he had any ideas of where we could go for a scenic drive. He promptly suggested we drive "Going-to-the-Sun-Road" in Montana's Glacier National Park. Without hesitation we headed for the border, luckily we had the foresight to bring our passports. Crossing into the USA was rather easy, a delightful woman asked us some simple questions and we were across. The road itself was scenic with plenty of stop offs for photos and 0.5km "hikes."

A lot of views very similar to this, I highly recommend it

A shot of the landscape and the truck we had to borrow to get there.

          We reached the end of the road, I bought a t-shirt and a soda, and made our way back toward the border. It was dark by the time we arrived at the border. Crossing back into Canada was a touch more challenging, a man, appearing around the age of 30 and in full uniform walked up looked the bright yellow truck up and down and then gazed at the two young people inside at the slow border crossing late at night... Then his questioning began, and keep in mind I am not often known for my memory. "How long have you two been dating?" he asked "4 years" I said to which Erin replied "3" with a look that told me I was an idiot... "Ok, whens her birthday?" "Ummm March 5th...?" "March 4th" she corrected. The questions continued until I was liable to be in enough trouble that letting me go was funnier to him than arresting me. We left and drove back to our campsite the whole way Erin laughing at me and my idiocy.

          The following morning we tried for Crypt Lake again. This time my stomach was feeling a little better, I still opted to bring along some soda crackers. We purchased our tickets and jumped on the boat. On our way across we were informed that there were two boats coming back in the afternoon, the first at 4 pm the second at 5 pm. Also I was told if we miss the 5 pm we would have to wait until morning when the boat comes back to drop the next group of hikers off. We landed on the shores and began our hike up the switchbacks through the trees. The mass of people began to spread out and thin as we made our way up the mountain. The first half was heavily treed with the rare break to a view of a majestic waterfall or cliff side. 

Shameless selfie, at least Erin looks good

     As we made our way up the trees thinned and eventually we were walking a narrow path on the edge of a cliff. At first it was not too bad but it eventually got worse... much worse.

Keep in mind how little I enjoy heights

     We had to walk a narrow ledge, climb a ladder, and crawl through a tunnel.

I almost fell off a ledge taking this shot

Yea that small ledge in the top right

That's the tunnel

    The ladder and the tunnel were a lot of "fun" for a guy like me, I swear I saw hawks circling below us, or vultures above me, its hard to tell when you get that much vertigo. After I took a few deep breaths in the tunnel I passed through to the far side to see that there was a 1.5 meter drop and cliff so sharp that someone was kind enough to put in pegs and a cable. Erin naturally walked up the hill without even a thought of using the cable while I considered kicking off my shoes for more to grab it with. I slowly white knuckled my way to the top while Erin was kind enough to take some photos.

You can see the drop and the cave (Top right)

I feel this counts and facing my fear of heights

While waiting for me Erin had time for another selfie

     We then had a short, comparatively gentle, hike to the top of the mountain. Once on top we were rewarded with a beautiful view of Crypt lake and the glacier that feeds it. I was surprised by two things: first somehow people had gotten dogs and children to the top, how on earth do you get a black lab past that cliff? Secondly people were fishing in the lake, I assume the lake had been stocked because there is no way fish naturally found their way into the lake, that said I don't recall seeing anyone catch anything so maybe there are no fish in that lake. I have since searched online and can't find a definitive answer about the state of fish in the lake. Either way, next time I'm bringing my fishing rod, either I catch something or the myth gets perpetuated so its win win for me.

We made it!

A nap is always the best way to celebrate

        After Erin's nap we took a walk around the lake itself, while crossing the glacier we saw a rather brave group riding tubes down the glacier into the ice cold water. I settled for us throwing a couple of snowballs at each other.

The lake was larger than I expected

         We circled the lake and started to make our way down. Before attempting the cliff we deviated slightly from the trail and found that the lake drained into a small creek which lead to a rather tall waterfall. 

A real "edge of the world" feeling

A shot showing the height of the waterfall

        Once we started our descent down the mountain we decided to try and make it for the 4 pm boat. We upped our pace and started to overtake people on the trail, the whole way I would apologize and explain that we were trying to make the earlier boat. Nobody seemed offended but we often got a chuckle followed by "good luck!" Toward to end we were running, and the fact that Erin is in much better shape than me became very apparent. I stopped to catch my breath for a minute and Erin stopped to wait for me, this would prove to be an error. Once I caught my breath we ran to the dock just in time for me to make eye contact with the boat driver as he pulled away from the dock. We had missed the boat by seconds, and now had to wait a full hour for the next boat.

So close!

At least I had some time to recover

         We hopped onto the 5 pm and headed to our campsite, had dinner, and promptly fell asleep. I hadn't slept that well since I hiked Tongariro, but that's another story for another day.

Tyson Attempts Fly Tying

        Anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that asking me if I have any hobbies can turn into an all day conversation. I undoubtedly have dabbled in way more hobbies than any sane human being should, that being said, spreading myself that thin doesn't lend itself to mastering any of them. I hope that fly tying will be the exception, to me it seems a useful skill and almost a form of relaxation and meditation... at least I assume it would be relaxing once its no longer frustrating. 


        Since I finished university I have been paying back my student loans steadily, diligently... and unfortunately. As encouragement I am rewarding myself at certain increments. The most recent was treating myself to a fly tying kit to help pass some of the down time at work. For approx $100 I bought a box of life long addiction, also known as a starter kit. It contains: all the basic equipment, a tying manual, a fly fishing tips book and some tying materials.

Everything I need to get started

            I first read both books cover to cover and then made a plan to tie my first fly. As suggested by the book I opted to try tying a nymph.

Well I tried and that's what counts!

         It wasn't pretty and it definitely did not look like the picture, but I was informed that when it comes to flies, especially nymphs, fish are pretty comfortable with flies that are a little rough around the edges. I was relieved to learn this. I then tried again.

Looks a little better if I do say so myself

       Tying my first flies I realized my kit was not quite complete. I had nothing to use to apply the necessary glue to the heads of the flies.

Points for creativity and ingenuity? 

     Having "mastered" that nymph pattern it was time to move on to the woolly bugger.

It looks sick and/or hungry 

              I tried again a few times until I realized I was using the wrong materials. Two shortcomings of this kit are that none of the materials are labelled so sometimes it comes to some internet searching and a best guess, secondly the materials are all in rather strange colours so it makes for some interesting patterns.

Maybe it will work on a nice pike

       Once I had gotten my material sorted out my woolly buggers started to look a little bit better. I posted some photos to instagram and someone asked if I could make them into earrings for them. So at the very least they're pretty right? Well I am yet to let being bad at something stop me from doing it, so I'll keep working on it and anything especially good or bad I'll put up on my Instagram. I still can't seem to figure out dry flies...

Everything I have tied so far

   This week I got an Instagram account going, come check it out for more pictures more frequently. Just look for "TysonGoesOutside" 

Big Week

     So... let me start by apologizing for not posting on Thursday like I normally do. I have a strange feeling it didn't exactly ruin your week though. Anyway here is the tale of why I failed to post at my regularly scheduled interval. 


     It all began when I asked for a few days off from work to go see The Edmonton Boat and Sportsman's Show. I work out of town and to make it worth while a replacement was sent out to relieve me for a little over a week. I made the long drive home on Monday followed by a long drive the next day to my mother and step fathers farm. While there I was able to get in some much needed archery practice... it had, in fact, been a long winter for me... it was reflected in my archery skills. I also did some snowshoeing but that'll come up in a later post I promise. The most important thing I did was eat good food and catch up on sleep.

     Thursday I drove back home and did a whole lot of not much. Friday is when the fun began. I went to the show and was there when the doors opened. One of the first things I saw was the line up to meet Jim Shockey, I looked around and figured it was doubtful the line was going to get any shorter so I stood around wondering what to say... and what I could get him to sign. Lucky for me they were selling some of his DVDs so naturally I purchased one. He was kind enough to sign it for me and we chatted a bit, it was nice to see that he took time with each person to chat a little instead of "Whats your name? Great. Keep hunting. NEXT!" In my excitement unfortunately I failed to get a picture of us together, which is unfortunate because if this blog ever really takes off it would be a neat thing to have (OK either way it would be cool to have).

It is also just a good DVD

        After that excitement, I wandered over to meet/re-meet Cody Robbins. I go shake his hand and usually buy a shirt every year just because hes a pretty nice guy and hes probably my favorite hunting show host (I hope I never have to choose between him and Jim Shockey). While there I picked up this beauty of a shirt.

Its super soft and I like the lace up

   I aimlessly wandered around the rest of the show seeing what there was to be seen and then I discovered this game changer.

New favorite beer

   That's right folks a beer geared towards hunters. I know not a lot of hunters drink beer (haha) but I really like this idea, and as an added bonus 5% of profits go toward conservation in Alberta and BC. I then exited the show and drove to the nearest liquor store that sold this beer and promptly purchased some for further "sampling."


     Next thing I knew it was Saturday morning, about 5 AM and Erin, Jason, and I were headed to Lake Louise, them for skiing, me for an attempt at snowboarding. The weather on the hill was amazing and I was really starting to dominate that bunny hill.

Spent most of the day like this

      I ran a few green runs and before I knew it the day was gone.

I've wound up worse places on a Saturday

        We then met up with some friends for dinner and drinks at the local hostel. The hostel restaurant was much better than I could have ever expected.

Every part of my body is sore in this photo

       The plan was to get up the next day and head home, but we had a lovely surprise. Nearly a foot of heavy wet snow had fallen during the night. We opted to hit the slopes again and drive back later that night.

Guess who had to sweep all that off of the truck

The hills were everything I had dreamed they would be. A tonne of fresh powder meant an amateur like me could really let loose and not worry about falling down. That being said, the heavy sticky snow was rather tiring to plow through.

Lucky for us there was a chalet half way down the hill

        As the day progressed I got a increasingly sore but also increasingly brave which naturally led to a rather interesting crash or two, luckily the hill was kinda busy that weekend so the humor was not wasted. The afternoon came and we decided some of us were too tired and sore to continue, others simply wanted to  be on the road before it was too late. We made it home late that night and I was given two days to recover before I was sent back to work.

I just like this photo. Also my hat got a surprising amount of compliments on the slopes.

Pike On The Fly

           If I've said it once I've said it a thousand times... I am an amateur. This video of my first day fly fishing for pike clearly illustrates that point, especially "Take 1". This is one of my first videos so I'm aware its a little rough. That being said I am certainly open to and would appreciate; comments, suggestions, tips, and ideas.

Unnamed Lakes

            Now and again a man such as myself needs to do something stupid. Often times it is my own idea that is the catalyst and other times I simply agree to come along for someone else’s insanity. In this instance I was merely a volunteer unwittingly tagging along. It was summer 2013 and I had taken a job at my old home town in hopes of making a little more money to pay off student debt. A perk of this job was that I was now living out in the country and could dedicate my free time after work to a lot of fishing. This was the summer I first got into fly fishing and also the first time I fished from a canoe, both of which I highly recommend.

            One fine day after work, as I did on many days after work, I went to a friend’s house. As it turns out a friend of ours had been given a small 4x4 pick up that hadn’t been used in years. They immediately went to town on it, they outfitted it with a working snorkel hand crafted from aluminum tubing usually used for eaves troughs. They also finished it off with a “beautiful” paint job which was actually spray on box liner, not a bad idea when you think about it though. I luckily arrived after all the major work had been done, I showed up just in time to help install the novelty horn.

            Once the horn was properly and professionally installed we loaded an old row boat, some paddles, and our fishing gear into the back of the truck. We then headed out one of us on a quad and two of us in the truck, me being a passenger. Our goal was to haul the old tin row boat through a treacherous and muddy quad trail to a lake with no road access to it. These lakes are quite common in that area… might be why they call it “The Lakeland Area.”  Naturally we got stuck several times along the way, being able to barely dig ourselves out each time and keep progressing forward until disaster. We had gotten ourselves stuck very badly in the last big mud hole before the lake. We had tried pulling every direction with the quad to no avail, come to think of it… we tried every get out of mud trick we know and between the three of us is quite a wealth of knowledge.

I tried everything I could think of: yelling, swearing, spitting, hitting it...

            Eventually around nightfall someone had mentioned, “Looks like I’m going to have to get on my quad and go get my tractor to pull us out.” I was rather furious at the fact that no one had told me this was an option… that we could have made use of several hours and several hundred mosquito bites SOONER! So before that happened we hauled the tin boat the half kilometer to the lake behind the quad and left it there for later. We then sat and waited for the tractor. It eventually showed up and yanked the little truck out without the slightest hint of struggle. By the time we got back to the house we had done no fishing and I was rather thoroughly coated in mud. I decided it was easier to strip out of my muddy clothes and drive home in my underpants, luckily I didn’t get pulled over or hit a check stop. That was about the stupidest I have felt in a good long while, coming home at nearly midnight cold and coated in mud not even having casted my rod.

            About a week later I came back out to my friend’s in hopes that he and I could drive his quads out to the lake where the boat had been left and hopefully be rewarded with monster fish for our efforts. This plan was agreed to and acted upon quickly. We drove out to the lake, paddled out to the middle near a nice weed bed and started fishing, me for pike and him for perch. After a while we had caught nothing and the wind began to pick up. We then paddled ourselves into a small cove sheltered by trees and continued fishing. I couldn’t believe two things; one that a lake that size had seemingly no fish in it and two that a lake that size could remain so hidden in the woods but I guess with no fish that kind of makes sense. Just before we packed it in we found a single minnow sized fish and it had been long since dead… not an encouraging sign. Thanks to my frequent visits to the museum I was able to identify it as a "Brook Stickleback." We packed it in without so much as a nibble, but I still like to believe there are fish in that lake.

Monster of the deep (Approx 3 inches in length)

            We arrived back at the house and decided to try out the motor boat on the nearby frog lake. After a lovely drive in the boat and some fishing in crystal clear waters I was starting to feel that luck wasn’t in the air, or water, that day. Neither one of us had gotten as much as a nibble on our hooks. From there we opted to try another lake this one had confirmed, by others, fish in it. This lake, much like the first, had no official name but it did have a house and a small boat that belonged to my friend’s uncle, who luckily for us was nice enough to lend us the boat. We motored around the lake trying a few different spots until we found a nice patch of reeds to throw some hooks at. After a bit of casting and a lot of telling stories I finally got a bite and I really didn’t want to lose it. I set the hook deep and kept a lot of tension on the line. I didn’t waste much time getting that pike to the boat. It certainly wasn’t a monster but I was sure proud of it. Shortly after that we decided the fishing was a little slow and it was starting to get a bit late in the day anyway. We found our back to the house to realize we had just enough time for one more fishing spot.

I am unreasonably proud of this fish

            We pulled up on the shore of yet another lake, this time near a natural sloping bank that, based on the tracks, doubled as a boat launch. We fished briefly before we were joined by a rather large and concerningly friendly dog. It was not of any breed I could identify but it sure looked nice. The only problem was that he was prone to jumping up with large muddy paws. Also he began to wear out his welcome when he would try to bite my hook on my back cast. Eventually I was able to get enough casts out to land another small pike, unfortunately the dog tried his best to make it a meal. Luckily for the fish I was able to release it before it became an evening snack.

            So it seems based on our poor luck and/or skill we had fished four different lakes in a single day. Usually I just change my hook every cast if I’m not catching anything but sometimes you just have to get more drastic.

Waterton

            A trip to Waterton Lakes National Park is easily one of my favorite vacations to take. The park lies in the south west corner of Alberta. From here you can literally hike into both British Columbia and Montana. This means that for me, getting there requires a scenic drive from Northern Alberta from the boreal forest across the plains, the badlands, and foothills, I am always accompanied by my girlfriend and some Alberta made classic western music. My most recent trip was taken in late summer of 2013, it was our second trip in two years to Waterton and I highly hope it becomes an annual tradition.

            We arrived late at night and set up camp quickly and as quietly as possible in the town campsite and went immediately to bed. No matter how much I enjoy the drive I still find I’m tired at the end of it. The second day we packed our things, we loaded the usual things; clothing, food, the tent, sleeping bags, etc. I however packed something a little extra, my often underused 5 weight fly rod and accompanying fishing equipment. We then went and had a chat with the wonderful folks at the visitor’s center who suggested a great hike and sold me a fishing license. It was early and the day was already looking up. We then set out from the busy trailhead onto our mainly uphill hike to the Twin Lakes camp site. The hike itself was an amazing display of the scenery the park has

I Always Snap A Photo of The Map In Case It Gets Wrecked Or Lost

to offer as well as afforded the opportunity to see something new, two baby grouse, and yes they are as cute as you imagine they would be. We arrived at our site, set up camp, and hung our food out of bear reach. It was at this time that I had noticed a family with a rather large tent set up in the communal eating area that also acted as the only access to the nearby lake. I guess even in the woods there’s a chance of running into a family of "those" kind people. I grabbed my fishing gear and headed off toward their “campsite” I was not about to let their intrusive behavior ruin my attempts at fly fishing. A few steps from my tent I looked up and saw a mule deer doe staring at me, less than 15 feet away. It was an amazing sight and feeling to be so close to such an amazing animal, of course I would never be able to get this close to a deer during hunting season. In this instance armed with only a fly rod I felt a little nervous in the knowledge that this deer could easily make me the doe, if you know what I mean. I did my best to keep my composure and take a quick video on my

"No hunting in the park, pbbbt!"

camera before it moved on into the trees. I walked passed an older couple camped near us and mentioned that there was a deer nearby and just generally extended a hello, what can I say? I’m just a friendly guy. The older gentleman immediately spotted my fly fishing gear. It’s hard not to spot a nine foot pole I guess (there's a joke in there somewhere). We naturally struck up a conversation on the topic in which I mentioned that I was very new to the sport, to which he replied that he was a bit of an old pro and asked to see my flies. He began telling me the names and history of the various flies in my box, I do not know if he was telling me the truth or making it up but it sounded impressive and I couldn’t remember it anyway. He then explained that at this time of evening the fish will come up to eat insects off of the surface. After our lengthy conversation he introduced himself as Van, and then proceeded to point out that there was a beach far away down the shoreline that seemed to have a drop of a few feet out and suggested I try there. I was in no position to doubt or disagree, so Erin and I

Monster of the deep/ Sasquatch quality photo

headed down to the beach.

             It was a chilly evening but I still felt it was necessary to wade out, tender parts deep, into the glacial water. Shockingly Erin declined the offer to join me in the water and chose to remain on the shore as a spectator. I quickly learned that, despite not practicing, my fly casting had not much improved. That being said I was still able to land my fly just far enough out for fish to take it. There was a small ripple where my fly was followed by a sudden, short and rapid wriggling of my rod back and forth with an abrupt downward pull. It was a strange fighting sensation I had never felt from a fish before. As I stripped the line the trout flailed and skidded across the surface. He was a monster, the biggest brook trout I had ever caught nearly five inches across… ok so the bar is set rather low when it comes to my fly fishing adventures but on the plus side that just means I get excited easier. This amazing catch was followed by nearly ten more and all it cost me was two flies lost to a log on my back cast, good thing my girlfriend wasn’t there to see me screw up… wait… dang. However all in all I would say it was a great evening of fishing and certainly good practice for my casting skills and running into someone like Van proved to be extremely helpful and may have saved the trip as I would have been a pretty unhappy camper had I not caught anything. That evening my sleep was hindered by the fact that I was soaked to the bone in ice cold water from the waist down.

This photo captures why I was willing to stand waist deep in glacier water

            Eventually the third day of our trip came into existence. We decided to walk to the nearby Goat Lake and back. I again loaded my fishing gear into my bag and we headed uphill. Our trail to the lake led us

Just Before Climbing To The Ridge

above the tree line over Avion Ridge with an elevation of just over 2400M. I myself am not a fan of heights and today was no exception. We gained elevation slowly through thin scattered trees and eventually broke above the tree line onto a narrow goat path which comprised of smooth hard rocks with loose shale overtop, I was nervous to say the least. Erin opted to take the longer higher path across the top of the ridge while I tried to stick to the lower looking path. Unfortunately shortly after separating, the path I was on got narrower and higher. I’m not sure entirely what happened next but I recall breathing rapidly and shakily taking a drink from my metal water bottle and forcing myself to keep walking. Eventually I made my way to where my path met with Erin’s. She walked causally along in front of my while I sweated and crawled on all fours along the path behind her, I’m sure it was a sight to see.

Just "relaxing" on the hillside

              We eventually made it to the end of the ridge and found that we now had to descend a bit of a boulder covered cliff. We eventually meandered our way down to the lake at which point, and it pains me to say this… I was too tired to fish. Instead we opted to have a bit of a nap on a boulder… ever been so tired you slept on a rock? I have. After our nap we headed downhill to make a full loop back to twin lakes. Once we go to the bottom of the largest hill, we realized we had forgotten my sweater at the top. “Someone” had used it as a pillow and forgot to grab it when we left. We had decided that we had traveled too far and were starting to run too low on water to turn back uphill to go get it. I asked a couple passing us on the trail if they could grab it and leave it at the information center in town. Sadly I never did see that shirt again. I hope it has a new home and is doing well. We made the long walk back to camp, if I recall it was about a 12km round trip, and I was relieved to see that the invasive family had left. I assume they moved on to annoy another campsite, they were however kind enough to leave a tangled mess of fishing line on the shore by where they camped. By the time we had arrived back at camp we were nearly out of water so I began boiling water and pouring it into our water bottles, this chore has convinced me to stop being cheap and just buy a water filter for hiking. I then wandered back to my fishing spot for a bit, the ice cold water felt good on my sore feet and knees. Again Erin declined to join me in the glacial pond, women are so strange. I fished and caught more reasonably sized, to me, trout. I fished until I felt the early stages of hypothermia kick in, at which point I came to shore zipped my wet shorts into half wet pants and immediately regretted not going back for my sweater. Erin and I boiled water and added it to dehydrated beef stir fry, which as best I can recall was about the longest 15 minutes of my life. The food was delicious and we headed back to the tent to try and warm up, at about this time the beef stir fry started to upset my fragile stomach, our tent was now cold and rather foul smelling. Somehow we survived the night without Erin kicking me out of the tent for health and safety reasons.

            As expected the third day did arrive. I was up early and snuck out of the tent as quietly as I could, needless to say I awoke Erin but she declined to join me for morning fishing. I walked back and waded in to the cold morning waters and began fishing. There was little to no action on the water until the sun started to rise. I then caught two small fish bang…bang, one after the other. Sadly as the sun came up it heated the mountain tops causing air to rise and cold air to pull off the lake and blow past me. This made casting impossible for someone of my limited skill level and it also magnified the cold. By the time I brought in my second small fish my hands were so cold it was a real challenge to dislodge the small fly from its mouth. I decided it would be safest and smartest to head back. I shivered all the way back to the tent and grabbed the stove to start making something warm to eat for breakfast. The stoves sparked seemed to have quit working at a most inopportune time, luckily I brought matches, and unluckily I was so cold that I couldn’t use them. I swear I have read a story about a man freezing to death in the arctic because he was too cold to light matches. Either way I was in a t-shirt and wet shorts with a cold wind in the shade, I had never been this cold in my life. Living in Alberta you experience -40 Celsius at least once a year, it’s a temperature so cold that if you touch metal with your bare skin it gives a searing pain like a burn, and I have still never been as cold as I was that morning. Just cold and wet down to my bones, I was sure I would never be warm again. I was starting to tell Erin I was dying and wanted to be cremated. She was kind enough to light the stove for me. I then put on dry shorts, she also gave me her base layer shirt to warm me up, so I squeezed into a shirt designed to be skin tight on my girlfriend. I am not a small man. I will spare you the details but if I were not so cold it would have been very funny to see me in a skin tight shirt that was far too small. Eventually we ate and packed up and I started shivering my way down the trail with Erin back toward the tail head. The trail out was narrow and tree lined and it seemed that some ambitious spiders had hoped of catching some hikers, I try to be chivalrous so naturally I offered to let Erin walk in front of me, she didn’t go for it. Naturally given my opinion of spiders I opted to walk slowly and use my knife to cut the webs out of the way, it just seemed easier than touching them. Eventually we made it to the trail head and let’s just say that after that three day hike I was just happy to see my truck. 

Bonus wallpaper picture courtesy of Miss Erin