07-24-2006, 05:15 PM
Sorry for the late report, but I've been too busy playin' in the woods with my two sons and needing to recuperate soon thereafter.
I decided to take Friday off work and asked the boys (ages 9 and 7) if they wanted to go camping and fishing up in the high country. They enthusiastically said yes.
By the time my wife and I got aluminum foil dinners and breakfasts ready for the trip and the truck and boat loaded with gear, the boys and I weren't on the road to Fairview Canyon until about 7:30 p.m. Thursday evening. We beelined it to E. Lake, arriving a few minutes before 9, and quickly began scurrying about to set up camp in the last remaining minutes of dusky light. I immediately built a fire so that we'd have glowing coals for cooking and then we quickly pitched our tents.
On the way up the canyon, I made the extraordinarily dumb move of telling my youngest son that a bear had just attacked a small boy up Hobblecreek Canyon the night before, the bear having bit the boy's arm and shoulder through his tent as he slept. Having just frightened the previous day's meals out of my young son, I spent the rest of the night ensuring him that the likelihood of something similar happening to him was nearly impossible.
First, I told him that authorities had gone up and shot the bear and that we were very far from Hobblecreek Canyon. "But aren't there bears up Fairview Canyon?" came his reply. "Yes," I answered, so I had to continue consoling him. Second, I assured him that he and his brother would be very safe sleeping within the protective metal barrier of my truck's bed (with the tailgate closed). And third, I told him that the chance of any bear still being hungry after the bear had dined on their 250-pound father (who would be sleeping on the ground next to the bed of the truck) would be very remote. My reasoning seemed to put their minds at ease, and they went to bed with looks of "good luck, Dad" in their eyes as I zipped up the door of their tent.
I love my sons deeply, so as they slept soundly through the night, I kept listening for them to rustle in their sleeping bags or whimper in fear of possible bear attacks. Though I heard hardly a stir, I still couldn't sleep. It was a rough night for me.
The next morning, I dragged myself out of my Cabela's tent cot (a fine piece of equipment, by the way) and stoked the coals of the previous night's campfire. The previous night's dinner had been strips of steak, peppers, onions, and tomatoes in foil and whole ears on corn, roasted in their husks. The morning's meal would be potatoes, peppers, onions, and eggs mixed together in foil. Needless to say, we ate like kings (or princes, as it were, har har!).
Upon smelling breakfast, the boys immerged from their tent all rested and energetic. "How'd you sleep?" I asked. "Really good," they both responded. The fact that they'd slept like logs and I hadn't made it difficult for me to keep up with them for the rest of the day.
Soon after breakfast was consumed and our camp was cleaned, we launched the 14' aluminum boat and had a nice morning of fishing. We caught several cookie-cutter E. Lake cutts, anywhere from 14-17" long, a couple of feisty rainbows, and long-line released a few more. All took worms Carolina-rigged, with corkies floating them a couple feet off the bottom. Didn't even get a nibble on minnows or PowerPutty.
We also caught several red-sided shiners in my minnow trap, and the boys had fun catching the little baitfish with miniature treble hooks tipped with bits of worm. All in all, a very fun morning for everyone.
The boys soon tired of sitting in the boat and asked if they could go play on shore. We had found a nice frisbee earlier that morning in the shoreline reeds while launching the boat, so the boys had fun tossing the disk and wading in the water, while I continued to fish close by in the boat. As the afternoon wore on, I caught a couple more fish, but I wasn't fishing too seriously. It was nice watching the boys have fun.
We called it quits around 3 p.m. and headed for home. On the way down the canyon, we passed several caravans and convoys heading up the canyon, no doubt to celebrate Pioneer weekend. It made me feel good to have beaten the crowds, as we had Electric Lake mostly to ourselves.
As I'm sure the rest of Utah was playing the next day, Saturday, I lounged around lazily at home trying to catch up on sleep.
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I decided to take Friday off work and asked the boys (ages 9 and 7) if they wanted to go camping and fishing up in the high country. They enthusiastically said yes.
By the time my wife and I got aluminum foil dinners and breakfasts ready for the trip and the truck and boat loaded with gear, the boys and I weren't on the road to Fairview Canyon until about 7:30 p.m. Thursday evening. We beelined it to E. Lake, arriving a few minutes before 9, and quickly began scurrying about to set up camp in the last remaining minutes of dusky light. I immediately built a fire so that we'd have glowing coals for cooking and then we quickly pitched our tents.
On the way up the canyon, I made the extraordinarily dumb move of telling my youngest son that a bear had just attacked a small boy up Hobblecreek Canyon the night before, the bear having bit the boy's arm and shoulder through his tent as he slept. Having just frightened the previous day's meals out of my young son, I spent the rest of the night ensuring him that the likelihood of something similar happening to him was nearly impossible.
First, I told him that authorities had gone up and shot the bear and that we were very far from Hobblecreek Canyon. "But aren't there bears up Fairview Canyon?" came his reply. "Yes," I answered, so I had to continue consoling him. Second, I assured him that he and his brother would be very safe sleeping within the protective metal barrier of my truck's bed (with the tailgate closed). And third, I told him that the chance of any bear still being hungry after the bear had dined on their 250-pound father (who would be sleeping on the ground next to the bed of the truck) would be very remote. My reasoning seemed to put their minds at ease, and they went to bed with looks of "good luck, Dad" in their eyes as I zipped up the door of their tent.
I love my sons deeply, so as they slept soundly through the night, I kept listening for them to rustle in their sleeping bags or whimper in fear of possible bear attacks. Though I heard hardly a stir, I still couldn't sleep. It was a rough night for me.
The next morning, I dragged myself out of my Cabela's tent cot (a fine piece of equipment, by the way) and stoked the coals of the previous night's campfire. The previous night's dinner had been strips of steak, peppers, onions, and tomatoes in foil and whole ears on corn, roasted in their husks. The morning's meal would be potatoes, peppers, onions, and eggs mixed together in foil. Needless to say, we ate like kings (or princes, as it were, har har!).
Upon smelling breakfast, the boys immerged from their tent all rested and energetic. "How'd you sleep?" I asked. "Really good," they both responded. The fact that they'd slept like logs and I hadn't made it difficult for me to keep up with them for the rest of the day.
Soon after breakfast was consumed and our camp was cleaned, we launched the 14' aluminum boat and had a nice morning of fishing. We caught several cookie-cutter E. Lake cutts, anywhere from 14-17" long, a couple of feisty rainbows, and long-line released a few more. All took worms Carolina-rigged, with corkies floating them a couple feet off the bottom. Didn't even get a nibble on minnows or PowerPutty.
We also caught several red-sided shiners in my minnow trap, and the boys had fun catching the little baitfish with miniature treble hooks tipped with bits of worm. All in all, a very fun morning for everyone.
The boys soon tired of sitting in the boat and asked if they could go play on shore. We had found a nice frisbee earlier that morning in the shoreline reeds while launching the boat, so the boys had fun tossing the disk and wading in the water, while I continued to fish close by in the boat. As the afternoon wore on, I caught a couple more fish, but I wasn't fishing too seriously. It was nice watching the boys have fun.
We called it quits around 3 p.m. and headed for home. On the way down the canyon, we passed several caravans and convoys heading up the canyon, no doubt to celebrate Pioneer weekend. It made me feel good to have beaten the crowds, as we had Electric Lake mostly to ourselves.
As I'm sure the rest of Utah was playing the next day, Saturday, I lounged around lazily at home trying to catch up on sleep.
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