I had GPS coordinates and sketchy directions a few years back to get into Rainy Ridge Lake for Goldens. Myself and a couple buds decided to walk into what was supposed to be a few hour hike for an overnighter. Our directions ended up being completely wrong, although we did have a coordinate to follow. After hiking 6 hours of what was supposed to be 3, we set up camp at a fishless lake along the divide. We determined that although the lake was only 4 km's horizontal, the trail we followed was basically circling the lake without getting closer. We decided at first light we would use the GPS and bushwack through a couple valleys and a saddle of a mountain directly to the lake. That was a mistake. The slopes were steep -50 degrees or so much of the time, heavy timber. It was a strenuos but fun stroll then finally I could see a nice "pass" ahead that seemed to lead straight toward the lake. I pushed ahead of the guys, determined to wet the first fly. Up the saddle I pushed, climbing toward the top of the realtively low (relative to the divide that is) pass. As I crested the top- I beheld two lakes two hundred feet down a sheer slope in all directions except opposite our approach, km's away along a treacherous divide. About the time I was contemplating ways of using my minor climbing experience to scale down the wall, the fishermen in me and the boys perked up. Why not just hike our asses down the somewhat mellow, forested slope to the east toward the west castle and do some proper fishing instead of sitting up high watching the rise forms and risking life and limb for waht we hoped we probably just small goldens anyhow... 7 hours later and many scrapes, bruises(including ego's) we were at my truck, and headed out for an epic day on the west castle.
One month later, still feeling the pain of defeat, I decided to invite my girlfriend to hike into Corral Lake with me in hopes of finally taking a peek at a golden trout. I convinced her to join me with promises of an easy 25km each way. I didn't bother telling her that I heard the hike described as "monumental", but everyone has different ideas of what is doable. Six inches of snow, a few inches of rain, 8 degrees cold and three days later I was standing on the bank of corral with a fat 17 inch golden trout. As the clouds built up over the alpine lake we hurried our tired and famished bodies down 7km to our gear stash near an outfitters camp in hopes of beating what looked like more snow. A man and his 16 year old son were camped out near our tent and young son had shot his first bighorn that day, so they invited us to join them in eating a whisky marinated sheep tenderloin for dinner that evening- never before has anything tasted so good. I have no idea how- perhaps it was our excellent dinner- bighorn power- but I we have never moved at the spped we ran down that trail the following day. In 8 hours we were back at my truck. At the trial head we spoke to an outfitter who has a temporary camp set up on the trail. Turned out the hike to the lake is 37km one way. That would be longest hike for a fish so far, although I have a many years to go, so we'll see...