January, 1918 
FOREST AND S T R E A M 
15 
On Kern River beyond Big Kern Lake 
that it was much too early in the day for 
insect life. Other pools near at hand 
gave good results and in less than twenty 
minutes we had sixteen golden beauties, 
the fish ranging from six to nine inches in 
length. 
While Katie fried bacon, and made the 
rest of the breakfast ready, I cleaned fish 
and within an hour after we had risen we 
were devouring our first golden trout. Bet¬ 
ter fish are to be found nowhere, the cold¬ 
ness of this stream, coupled with an abun¬ 
dance of food, producing a flesh at once 
firm and finely flavored. 
We had planned to remain here all day, 
but having had such fine success we de¬ 
cided to move on to Camp Lewis, but a 
few miles away. Making our way over 
the rough lava flow it was but a short time 
until we had reached and crossed the nat¬ 
ural bridges we had visited a week be¬ 
fore and were ready to make the detour 
and drop to the floor of the canyon. 
The fish here seemed to be larger than 
those we had taken in the meadow above 
and by mutual consent we stopped to finish 
the taking of our limit, leaving the mules 
to feed in q little meadow. Fishing here 
was much more difficult than where we 
had first tried it, as there was consider¬ 
able brush, but the trout were fully as 
plentiful. Going down stream we saw 
several fine fish in a pool at the foot of 
Twin Falls and each braved the spray to 
secure one, the trout taken by Katie being 
fully twelve inches in length. Within an 
hour we had each taken twelve, which 
completed our legal allotment for the day, 
and started onward, after having cleaned 
these and packed them in ferns. 
The trip to the river was over a steep 
zig-zag trail, but we finally got to the bot¬ 
tom and found the ford, which had not 
been used so far that year. Katie took 
the lead with Jack and succeeded in get¬ 
ting across without much trouble, but 
Becky insisted on going down¬ 
stream and got into a hole so 
deep that the water ran over 
her back. I was frightened 
and tried to get out of the 
saddle, but before I could do 
so she scrambled to a safe 
footing and was soon on dry 
land to my great relief. 
In former years, we were 
afterward told, there was a 
good ford here, but the bot¬ 
tom washed away and it is 
now considered dangerous. A 
bridge was constructed several 
seasons ago further down 
stream, but last winter the 
heavy snow broke it down as 
the last one to leave the camp 
failed to remove the planking. 
Wire cable has been brought 
in and a suspension bridge 
was erected here in time for 
the season of 1917. 
We were received in camp 
with considerable enthusiasm 
and shortly after arriving 
there were surprised to see a 
party of neighbors from home 
coming in on the trail from 
the valley. Our friends re¬ 
mained with us for a few 
days and left to make the trip 
to Mount Whitney, while we 
were compelled to start home¬ 
ward. A pack was again placed on Becky 
and we took turns riding Jack. 
On the way home we made a stop of a 
night and a half a day at Grasshopper 
Flat, about eight miles below Camp Lewis, 
a spot but little visited, near one of the 
most wonderful pools on the river, known 
as the Whirlpool. The river makes an 
abrupt turn here and there is a great 
whirlpool not less than eighty feet across, 
with a big flat rock to stand on at the 
south end and a higher rock 
on the west side commanding 
a deep quiet stretch of water. 
The Whirlpool looked so 
rough that we both decided to 
fish in the still place and ac¬ 
cordingly caught some grass¬ 
hoppers for bait. The very 
first cast by Katie netted her 
a twelve-inch trout and a mo¬ 
ment later I had a strike and 
found that a fish had taken 
my fly and a part of the 
leader. We fished for about 
an hour and I failed to land 
a trout, while in that time my 
lucky sister had taken eight 
fish, so I decided to get out on 
the flat rock and try the rough 
water, putting on two flies of 
different color. No sooner 
had these struck the water 
than they were sucked away 
and I was soon fishing with 
fully fifty feet of line out. It 
was not long before there was 
a strike and I had landed a 
nice fish. This was repeated 
with comforting regularity 
and at one time I brought in 
two fish, both being the same 
size, eight inches. I had 
caught* ten trout and was 
thinking of stopping when 
there was a vicious strike, a 
humming of the reel, and a big fish leaped 
into view almost in the vortex of the pool. 
Katie had the landing net and came run¬ 
ning to help me when she saw what was 
happening, but there was nothing for her 
to do for some time. As soon 1 would get 
the fish near the rock he would catch sight 
of me and would make for the center of 
the pool, repeating this several times, 
hinally I brought him to the surface and 
held him facing the swift current until he 
was almost drowned, when he cable to the 
net without further struggle. Imagine our 
surprise, when we began to disengage the 
hook, to find the hook and leader I had 
lost earlier in the afternoon. This fish 
was also a freak, having a snout much 
shorter than that of a normal trout. 
We completed our trip without an un¬ 
pleasant incident and proved to our own 
satisfaction that it is not necessary for 
women to forego the pleasure of a vaca¬ 
tion to their liking because of the neces¬ 
sity of going alone. We traversed the 
backbone of the high Sierras, climbed 
Mount Whitney, the highest mountain in 
the United States outside of Alaska, 
crossed the treacherous Kern River twice, 
caught golden trout from Golden Trout 
Creek, visited the Volcanic Falls on that 
stream and made our way into many rough 
nooks seldom visited by men. We were 
able to accomplish this because of our 
thorough preparation and planning and be¬ 
cause of the fact that we believed that we 
could travel through the mountains as well 
as the average man. We were delighted 
with the wonderland we invaded and plan 
to go into this region again, for there are 
many places almost unexplored, lakes sel¬ 
dom visited that are teeming with trout, 
mountains that have never been climbed, 
and, last but not least, there is gold to 
draw us back, the gold that shimmers on 
those truly beautiful native fish of Golden 
Trout Creek. 
Tower Rock two thousand feet above Camp Lewis 
