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- Apr 20, 2013
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I need to be in the right mood to write a trip report. It took a little while to find that essence, but for good or bad, here it goes.
For Labor Day Weekend I took one of my sons out into the Uintas to Naturalist Basin. A friend of mine was to join us sometime Sunday with his 6 year old son, so the distance was just about right. My 11 year old son was intent on fishing, so this would give him several lakes to work with.
My intent was just to go with the flow and move at whatever pace my son wanted to go. So I did not really have an itinerary except to start Friday and end up on Sunday in between the Morat lakes to meet my friend and his son.
There are a few stories to be buried among the pictures, but the highlights were golden mornings with blue skies, followed mostly by rolling clouds in the afternoon, a squall of thundersnow (the first my son had been in), a bit of fishing action, my son's constant rock climbing, starry, nearly silent nights, and enjoying time with my son whose moods are the opposite of mine, turbulent and ever changing.
An early start saw us arrive at the trailhead before the sun was up, passing misty lakes of blue grey and just the start of autumn leaves, as well as a couple suicidal roadside deer. We sang some good stuff on the way in to start the trip off right.
We walked down a little and wandered around Butterfly lake on frosty grass, not really in a hurry yet. We watched the trout leaping out of the water until the sun was hitting the peaks, then we walked back to the trailhead for our packs.
Bald Mountain and the highway looked nice as the sun began to rise.
We did not run into anyone until after the junction with Naturalist basin. Well, except a badger that ran off into the trees and a few deer.
A perfectly still, lily padded Scudder provided a quick break. My son's constant talking melted the miles away and I was almost the first one to say Uncle and ask for a break.
The meadows were shoulder season golden, and my son played in one for a while as I smiled at the sun bathing us in light.
We hit the split between Morat and Jordan, and still he had not complained. We stopped so he could chase minnows in the creek, while I chased reflections.
I sang another song this time: "I would watch you walk along the canal Wearing ribbons of gold morning light"
Jordan was our first destination. A few landed brookies broke up the late morning, but winds came in and brought a few minor showers and a couple pleasant naps in between some shore wandering and further fishing attempts.
Bent over grass and impressionist reflections as a storm approached.
Oops, slept a little longer the second time. Storm cleared all the way out.
The rest of the afternoon we were skunked fishing wise. This meant dinner was Tonkatsu ramen with some ham, and a desert of peanut butter trail mix and mike n ikes.
The water from here was good.
Here we leave the linear path of the story, and interject.
The 11 year old's guide to activities in Naturalist Basin:
"I want to catch this little trout in this pool and put him in the lake."
"Sure, or eat him..." Dad says.
"What about climbing rocks? Finding small caves, or even practicing stemming in a mini slot? Multiple times!"
On the way out this time.
"I will be out climbing on the castle and in the cave. Maybe I can catch a pika..."
This cliff was behind camp on day two. It housed a nice cave, plenty of rocks to climb, and a busy body pika that occupied us well into twilight.
Pride rock and the aforementioned start of twilight. Insert Pika chirps here and some coyote yips.
"I will be fishing."
After the thundersnow came the tranquility of late afternoon fishing.
Other activities not pictured, besides the necessary covering of distance included:
Osprey, raven, gray jay and small bird watching
Twilight karaoke, some songs enjoyed by both parties, but some only by one, including: Africa, Under the Milky Way, Cool Change, Take it to the Limit, and Southern cross. Influenced heavily by the fact that ones iphone for some reason only had what I call my father in law mix. Still, it was good.
Star gazing and physics discussions
When the fishing sucked my son and I had rock skipping competitions
Saturday night also fell into a three round skirmish of Ticket to Ride which included a young sharp mind actually starting to understand and discuss strategy
In between all of this there was only one negative moment at Shaler lake when my son snagged a triple tease he had found on the shore of Jordan. It was near shore and I told him he could go in for it in his undies. He said no, he wanted his shorts and took off to retrieve them from our packs on the other side of the lake. As he returned, a gray cloud poured over the ridge from Middle Basin to the north and boomed a few times with thunder. We took shelter, but he was mad that I said he could not go into the water with the storm overhead. By the time this shower passed us by there was another behind it, and he grumpily agreed that he wanted to move on. Besides being tired on the last of the hike out, that was about it for any confrontation.
Wonderful!
So wait, what did dad do besides some constant singing, napping, load carrying, cooking and smiling?
He took it all in.
For example:
Sunrays were common the first afternoon and evening. Notice the line from shore. Concurrent enjoyment...
Well into twilight on night one a doe wandered into camp. My son getting out to see her spooked her off, or so we thought. As I sat on a rock watching the steel water and the first stars appearing with the breeze blowing against my back I heard her return. It was dark enough I could not see her well, but there she was going for the food bag I had not yet put away. I spoke to her, and she just kept going toward the bag. So I scared her off. I put away the food bag elsewhere and took any of our sweaty stuff and threw it below my son in the tent. She came back, but we had outmaneuvered her. So I called her out and laughed at her so that she pronged away.
The breezy night and noisy neighbors across the lake gave way to a perfectly still morning and at 4 and then again at 5am I contemplated getting out of the tent, but it was too nice to lay there. I finally did and enjoyed the stillness.
The blue dawn gave way to golden glory.
"You were the brightest shade of sun I had ever seen, and you were gilded with the gold of the richest kings..."
And a little zoomed in.
The mist, golden light, still water, long shadows, fall colors, scattered frost. Beautiful.
Probably my favorite of the trip. I stood here for several minutes before even taking a photo. Nearly missing the best of it.
More details.
....
Later in the day, up by Shaler. While the storms built and my son snagged his lure.
Then, as we made the final run to LeConte another larger storm loomed. I had seen a possible campsite closer to Blue Lake on a previous trip, but we decided to make for some trees near LeConte and found what became a perfect site for my son, and let's face it. For me as well. This was the most photogenic day.
Between storms we ate the last of our blueberry bagel and roast beef sandwiches and walked to where we could overlook Blue lake.
Another round. This time light rain.
Autumn colors on show.
Dinner time and the front passed overhead.
A little bit of sunset and a perception trick.
The next morning brought out a different song.
"Quand le soleil dit bonjour aux montagnes,
Et que la nuit rencontre le jour."
Probably favorite #2, but hard to say. I am a sucker for these lichen covered boulders.
We eventually headed to Blue lake. It was "crowded" with 4-5 different groups fishing or otherwise along the shore. We pulled in a tiger pretty quickly at Blue, but we were to meet my friend this day, so we dropped down to Morat, setup a hammock, took out the pole, and caught a few tigers there instead. My son then climbed rocks while I talked with some gray jays who tried stealing my trail mix. Then we had lunch, watched the groups come and go, went and saw the fire burning farther down the Duchesne drainage, and still saw no sign of my friend.
This was the least photographed day. (some of you are saying "Thank Heavens")
My friend and son never arrived that night. We setup nearer the shallow Morat after a dinner of Tiger Trout and Teriyaki noodles. I chose that place because it was right where I had pinned the map and was visible from the trail. I apologize to the one backpacker who was just across from us.
Evening brought some nice light, a curious drone, and then plenty of stars.
"There could be a great glow if the conditions are right,
Shot through with light"
The next morning I was sad it was our last, but our food was almost gone -we had planned about right. I slept in a little bit, since it was just another bluebird morning. I eventually wandered over to the larger Morat lake.
The trees were intriguing me with the golden light.
Morat's turrets.
Taking this shot I heard voices talking off in the trees. I thought it was this group of four who had been fishing the lake the evening before. So I didn't venture toward them. However... as soon will be seen, it was someone more familiar.
I know, too many pics already, and I give you another one of trees. But really, this has to make you smile.
I eventually wandered back to camp, not wanting to leave, but ready to go whenever my son was ready. I sat down and took one last shot of my needing to be retired Salewas. These have at least 600 miles of trips and trails that I can count on them.
I was feeling a little bummed my friend had not arrived. I figured I would find out why once we were on the road.
And then I heard a kids voice. I stood up and walked to where I could see the trail.
I saw who it was, but waited to see if they recognized me.
Turns out they had made the last climb in the dark, and seeing someone with a fire that was not me, they had stopped short by about a hundred yards and setup in the trees. No worries, we spent the morning fishing, hanging out, and I now had someone else to hike out with.
And here is the last story of the trip.
Near shore there was this tiger that kept violently breaking out of the water, always near the same spot. I cast past where I could see it in the shallows and pulled a renegade past him. He did not move for it, but another tiger did. It did not take it, but the second tiger startled the first, and I noticed the first tiger was straining against a snagged line. Twenty feet or so from shore he was hooked.
I called my son over from where he was climbing the rocks and showed him, and then went in after him. The water was up to my ribs, but the line pulled against my leg, so it was easy to scoop down and pull up the line and the fish. I freed him, took a dunk in the water, and then sat on a rock in the water for a few minutes until my goosebumped skin blotched different colors.
The fishing karma was good though, because once I was dried by the sun and finally dressed, my next cast I pulled in another tiger.
For Labor Day Weekend I took one of my sons out into the Uintas to Naturalist Basin. A friend of mine was to join us sometime Sunday with his 6 year old son, so the distance was just about right. My 11 year old son was intent on fishing, so this would give him several lakes to work with.
My intent was just to go with the flow and move at whatever pace my son wanted to go. So I did not really have an itinerary except to start Friday and end up on Sunday in between the Morat lakes to meet my friend and his son.
There are a few stories to be buried among the pictures, but the highlights were golden mornings with blue skies, followed mostly by rolling clouds in the afternoon, a squall of thundersnow (the first my son had been in), a bit of fishing action, my son's constant rock climbing, starry, nearly silent nights, and enjoying time with my son whose moods are the opposite of mine, turbulent and ever changing.
An early start saw us arrive at the trailhead before the sun was up, passing misty lakes of blue grey and just the start of autumn leaves, as well as a couple suicidal roadside deer. We sang some good stuff on the way in to start the trip off right.
We walked down a little and wandered around Butterfly lake on frosty grass, not really in a hurry yet. We watched the trout leaping out of the water until the sun was hitting the peaks, then we walked back to the trailhead for our packs.
Bald Mountain and the highway looked nice as the sun began to rise.
We did not run into anyone until after the junction with Naturalist basin. Well, except a badger that ran off into the trees and a few deer.
A perfectly still, lily padded Scudder provided a quick break. My son's constant talking melted the miles away and I was almost the first one to say Uncle and ask for a break.
The meadows were shoulder season golden, and my son played in one for a while as I smiled at the sun bathing us in light.
We hit the split between Morat and Jordan, and still he had not complained. We stopped so he could chase minnows in the creek, while I chased reflections.
I sang another song this time: "I would watch you walk along the canal Wearing ribbons of gold morning light"
Jordan was our first destination. A few landed brookies broke up the late morning, but winds came in and brought a few minor showers and a couple pleasant naps in between some shore wandering and further fishing attempts.
Bent over grass and impressionist reflections as a storm approached.
Oops, slept a little longer the second time. Storm cleared all the way out.
The rest of the afternoon we were skunked fishing wise. This meant dinner was Tonkatsu ramen with some ham, and a desert of peanut butter trail mix and mike n ikes.
The water from here was good.
Here we leave the linear path of the story, and interject.
The 11 year old's guide to activities in Naturalist Basin:
"I want to catch this little trout in this pool and put him in the lake."
"Sure, or eat him..." Dad says.
"What about climbing rocks? Finding small caves, or even practicing stemming in a mini slot? Multiple times!"
On the way out this time.
"I will be out climbing on the castle and in the cave. Maybe I can catch a pika..."
This cliff was behind camp on day two. It housed a nice cave, plenty of rocks to climb, and a busy body pika that occupied us well into twilight.
Pride rock and the aforementioned start of twilight. Insert Pika chirps here and some coyote yips.
"I will be fishing."
After the thundersnow came the tranquility of late afternoon fishing.
Other activities not pictured, besides the necessary covering of distance included:
Osprey, raven, gray jay and small bird watching
Twilight karaoke, some songs enjoyed by both parties, but some only by one, including: Africa, Under the Milky Way, Cool Change, Take it to the Limit, and Southern cross. Influenced heavily by the fact that ones iphone for some reason only had what I call my father in law mix. Still, it was good.
Star gazing and physics discussions
When the fishing sucked my son and I had rock skipping competitions
Saturday night also fell into a three round skirmish of Ticket to Ride which included a young sharp mind actually starting to understand and discuss strategy
In between all of this there was only one negative moment at Shaler lake when my son snagged a triple tease he had found on the shore of Jordan. It was near shore and I told him he could go in for it in his undies. He said no, he wanted his shorts and took off to retrieve them from our packs on the other side of the lake. As he returned, a gray cloud poured over the ridge from Middle Basin to the north and boomed a few times with thunder. We took shelter, but he was mad that I said he could not go into the water with the storm overhead. By the time this shower passed us by there was another behind it, and he grumpily agreed that he wanted to move on. Besides being tired on the last of the hike out, that was about it for any confrontation.
Wonderful!
So wait, what did dad do besides some constant singing, napping, load carrying, cooking and smiling?
He took it all in.
For example:
Sunrays were common the first afternoon and evening. Notice the line from shore. Concurrent enjoyment...
Well into twilight on night one a doe wandered into camp. My son getting out to see her spooked her off, or so we thought. As I sat on a rock watching the steel water and the first stars appearing with the breeze blowing against my back I heard her return. It was dark enough I could not see her well, but there she was going for the food bag I had not yet put away. I spoke to her, and she just kept going toward the bag. So I scared her off. I put away the food bag elsewhere and took any of our sweaty stuff and threw it below my son in the tent. She came back, but we had outmaneuvered her. So I called her out and laughed at her so that she pronged away.
The breezy night and noisy neighbors across the lake gave way to a perfectly still morning and at 4 and then again at 5am I contemplated getting out of the tent, but it was too nice to lay there. I finally did and enjoyed the stillness.
The blue dawn gave way to golden glory.
"You were the brightest shade of sun I had ever seen, and you were gilded with the gold of the richest kings..."
And a little zoomed in.
The mist, golden light, still water, long shadows, fall colors, scattered frost. Beautiful.
Probably my favorite of the trip. I stood here for several minutes before even taking a photo. Nearly missing the best of it.
More details.
....
Later in the day, up by Shaler. While the storms built and my son snagged his lure.
Then, as we made the final run to LeConte another larger storm loomed. I had seen a possible campsite closer to Blue Lake on a previous trip, but we decided to make for some trees near LeConte and found what became a perfect site for my son, and let's face it. For me as well. This was the most photogenic day.
Between storms we ate the last of our blueberry bagel and roast beef sandwiches and walked to where we could overlook Blue lake.
Another round. This time light rain.
Autumn colors on show.
Dinner time and the front passed overhead.
A little bit of sunset and a perception trick.
The next morning brought out a different song.
"Quand le soleil dit bonjour aux montagnes,
Et que la nuit rencontre le jour."
Probably favorite #2, but hard to say. I am a sucker for these lichen covered boulders.
We eventually headed to Blue lake. It was "crowded" with 4-5 different groups fishing or otherwise along the shore. We pulled in a tiger pretty quickly at Blue, but we were to meet my friend this day, so we dropped down to Morat, setup a hammock, took out the pole, and caught a few tigers there instead. My son then climbed rocks while I talked with some gray jays who tried stealing my trail mix. Then we had lunch, watched the groups come and go, went and saw the fire burning farther down the Duchesne drainage, and still saw no sign of my friend.
This was the least photographed day. (some of you are saying "Thank Heavens")
My friend and son never arrived that night. We setup nearer the shallow Morat after a dinner of Tiger Trout and Teriyaki noodles. I chose that place because it was right where I had pinned the map and was visible from the trail. I apologize to the one backpacker who was just across from us.
Evening brought some nice light, a curious drone, and then plenty of stars.
"There could be a great glow if the conditions are right,
Shot through with light"
The next morning I was sad it was our last, but our food was almost gone -we had planned about right. I slept in a little bit, since it was just another bluebird morning. I eventually wandered over to the larger Morat lake.
The trees were intriguing me with the golden light.
Morat's turrets.
Taking this shot I heard voices talking off in the trees. I thought it was this group of four who had been fishing the lake the evening before. So I didn't venture toward them. However... as soon will be seen, it was someone more familiar.
I know, too many pics already, and I give you another one of trees. But really, this has to make you smile.
I eventually wandered back to camp, not wanting to leave, but ready to go whenever my son was ready. I sat down and took one last shot of my needing to be retired Salewas. These have at least 600 miles of trips and trails that I can count on them.
I was feeling a little bummed my friend had not arrived. I figured I would find out why once we were on the road.
And then I heard a kids voice. I stood up and walked to where I could see the trail.
I saw who it was, but waited to see if they recognized me.
Turns out they had made the last climb in the dark, and seeing someone with a fire that was not me, they had stopped short by about a hundred yards and setup in the trees. No worries, we spent the morning fishing, hanging out, and I now had someone else to hike out with.
And here is the last story of the trip.
Near shore there was this tiger that kept violently breaking out of the water, always near the same spot. I cast past where I could see it in the shallows and pulled a renegade past him. He did not move for it, but another tiger did. It did not take it, but the second tiger startled the first, and I noticed the first tiger was straining against a snagged line. Twenty feet or so from shore he was hooked.
I called my son over from where he was climbing the rocks and showed him, and then went in after him. The water was up to my ribs, but the line pulled against my leg, so it was easy to scoop down and pull up the line and the fish. I freed him, took a dunk in the water, and then sat on a rock in the water for a few minutes until my goosebumped skin blotched different colors.
The fishing karma was good though, because once I was dried by the sun and finally dressed, my next cast I pulled in another tiger.
