The Camping Odyssey, Day Two

Friday

Friday morning I got up early and got in some fishing. The fishing was good - plenty of water in the river but not enough for the flows to be dangerous for wading, a gorgeous setting, and plenty of opportunistic, hungry, foolish trout. I hooked up four or five and missed setting the hook on about that many more before heading back to camp for breakfast.

Lazy Doug was just getting up when I returned, and he got started on coffee while I worked on our breakfast of eggs, bacon, and bagels. As we cooked, the sweat bees came. And came. And came. As we ate, they swarmed around our heads, eager for some food. We quickly wrapped up breakfast and started to think about the rest of the day.

I had thought we might hike up to Mist Falls on Friday, a nice 9 mile round trip that I had taken the last time I was there. I got to chatting about fishing with one of our campground neighbors and he suggested we go from there on up to Paradise Valley. "The fishing is incredible and it's only a mile or so further," he said, muttering something about "switchbacks" as he walked away. We thought it sounded good and decided to shoot for it. I packed up some water, a light lunch of apples and gorp, and some minimal fishing gear and drove to the trailhead. I considered bringing along the pair of two-way radios but figured we wouldn't need them since we would be in close proximity the entire hike. (Cue ominous music - foreshadowing point #1)

The hike to Mist Falls is really nice - it's a well-maintained and well-traveled path through big trees and big boulders, with the Kings River never too far off to one side. The trail is quite flat for a couple miles and then gently slopes up the side of the canyon to the falls. We made it to the falls in a couple hours and stopped on a big rock for lunch.

Doug hugs a tree with a slow-running Mist Falls in the background

After lunch we decided to press on up to Paradise Valley. Suddenly we understood what our neighbor was saying about switchbacks - for about an hour we trudged up steps formed from granite blocks, sucking wind with every step. Doug began cursing my name with every step as we kept going and going with no sign of the promised Valley of Paradise.

As we came into a level spot I decided it was time to quit screwing around and start fishing. Without saying anything to Doug about my intentions (foreshadowing point #2) I cut off the trail and headed over boulders to the river's edge. At this point our stories diverge.

First, Doug's perspective:

Doug saw me leave the trail and went up a bit further. As it turned out, we were about 50 yards from the valley proper, and it was gorgeous. He came back to encourage me to come up a little further and fish there, but I was nowhere to be seen. As he could not find me, he waited a bit where I had left the trail. He shouted my name up and down the river but got no response.

When I didn't return or yell back, he assumed that I had headed back down the hill and took off to try to catch me.

About halfway down to the falls, he stopped and made a marker from stones - basically "BW" and an arrow pointing down the hill - in case I was behind him. That turned out to be a very good idea.

Doug got to the falls and I wasn't there, so he pressed on at top speed to the trailhead. When I wasn't there, he started to consider whether he should find a ranger or just wait for a bit. Having the chance to sit down and think about it for a while, he decided to wait for me for a bit, realizing that I may very well have stopped to fish or something.

This is the view of Kings Canyon from the top of Mist Falls. It was dramatic enough to inspire me to break my own rule about photographs having people in them - preferably somebody you know.

Now, my perspective:

As soon as I left the trail I went into "fish stalker" mode and got down very low to the ground - wild trout will spook easily at shadows. I was hiding behind rocks and doing everything I could to keep my shadow off the water as I got my fishing gear ready to go. I figured Doug would know I was fishing and that he would explore the area a little bit.

I worked my way along the river for about an hour, eventually getting up to Paradise Valley proper, before I realized I hadn't seen Doug in a while, and that we needed to be getting back if we wanted to avoid hiking in the pitch-black moonless twilight. I reluctantly packed up my fishing stuff - the trout were really dumb up there, and I was enjoying them immensely - and started hollering for Doug. I trotted back down to where I had left the trail. No sign. I trotted back up into the valley. No sign. As I trotted back down again I noticed that there were only three sets of fresh boot prints on the trail, and they were all mine. Ok, so Doug hadn't come this far up. That's good information, think I. I started casting about for more fresh tracks and find another set further down, and for some reason I'm pretty sure they were Doug's. I figure he must have gone down to the falls to wait for me and start jogging (!) down the trail to catch him, hoping I'm right.

I'd been going for about a half-hour trying to figure out what I would do if he wasn't at the falls when I came to the marker Doug had left for me. I stopped and let out a big sigh of relief, and then started out again at top speed.

Nothing too noteworthy happened between there and the trailhead - you already know Doug was there waiting for me. Doug had made the 6.5 mile trip back in about an hour and a half. I clocked an hour and forty-five minutes myself, only dipping below 120 paces/minute for a little bit after I drank too much water too quickly and my stomach threatened revolt.

I arrived at the trailhead just as darkness was falling, and Doug had been waiting there for me for about an hour. We drove back to the campsite, where I spent about an hour recovering to the point that I wanted a cocktail...

Should have brought those damn radios.

Anyway, all's well that ends well, and we enjoyed pasta with red sauce and Manhattans for dinner. Both of us were tired from our quick descents, and we turned in relatively early and slept soundly.