How Far Would Hike In A Day To Go Fishing ?

[McLeod]

 

So several of us where having this discussion over the weekend regarding how far we have or would hike in and out of a lake in a day. Of course the the terrain and the fitness of an individual plays a role in determining what one would challenge. We kinda came to the conclusion that about

3 to 4 hours in and 3 to 4 hours out would be the very maximum so generally about 16 km return.

One guy said he is fine walking in the dark with headlights.

Anyone have their own stories or thoughts.

[birchy]

Hiking up to an alpine lake with overnight packs weighing ~30-40 pounds is the hardest I've done so far. Took us ~3.5 hours up if I recall correctly..

[ÜberFly]

Day hike or backpack?! Day hike 15 or 16 km (one direction), any more then that and you spend too much time hiking and not enough time enjoying the area you are hiking (fishing) to. Of course it depends on the terrain as well. Backpacking was 27 km one direction (about my limit).

 

P

 

 

 

So several of us where having this discussion over the weekend regarding how far we have or would hike in and out of a lake in a day. Of course the the terrain and the fitness of an individual plays a role in determining what one would challenge. We kinda came to the conclusion that about

3 to 4 hours in and 3 to 4 hours out would be the very maximum so generally about 16 km return.

One guy said he is fine walking in the dark with headlights.

Anyone have their own stories or thoughts.

[bhurt]

As long as it takes

[agbff]

The farthest i would for one day of fishing- 10 km

For a weekend trip- 30

Longest trek= 225 km

[fishfreak]

My limit is 16km round trip, provided I start early in the morning. My goal is usually to start fishing somewhere between 9-10am, so add the drive and the hike, and that's when I leave. Fortunately, most of the lakes in Kananaskis seem to fit this.

[Din]

I think the longest day trip I have done would be around 25km. Ended up fishing later than I should have and the last hour hike was in the dark and was a little sketchy.

[newflyer]

As long as it takes

 

I second this.

[Keith]

As long as I have enough light to hike back out, I'll keep hiking. But if I brought my backpacking gear, then I'm happy to keep on going.

[Pipestoneflyguy]

For day-trips, 15K is my limit in one day. At least with my belly boat on my back. Considering I am in my forties, carrying a bit of a spare tire, and walking on a fake hip and knee I expect all the young wipper-snappers on here to be kickin my ass and hiking into fortress at least once a year.

 

Walking out with a headlamp is no big deal, as long as you know the route and hazards - I do it often but I take the trouble to carry a GPS and I make sure someone knows where I am, what time I'll be back, and what to do if I don't show up (spend a day at an alpine lake and walk away from an evening hatch ! who does that ?) I like to pretend every noise I hear behind me is a bear or a cougar, keeps my ass in gear LOL

 

 

[McLeod]

 

A buddy of mine was at a lake deep in BNP and the fishing was so good he decided to stay the night at the lake rather than walkout the 12 km.. Fished the the next morning when a warden showed up..my buddy told him he could walk out the night before because his foot was to sore from the hike in. The warden laughed and told him to leave by 2 pm and then rode off..

[Taco]

if i can't fish for twice as long as it would take for a round trip in and out, she's an overnighter, doesn't matter if ya hike or drive

[Guest rickleblanc]

Taco, I second that. Up until a couple years ago my rule was that I had to get at least as much fishing time as travel time, but I noticed that the closer the ratio got to 1:1, the easier it got to sidetrack me. Ever since I made the limit 2:1, I almost always keep my dates with the fishies.

 

Rick

[Nick0Danger]

22 km but it was worth it round trip

[Jayhad]

short as possible, I'm fairly fit but I hate hiking. I hiked to Tombstone and back one day to fish and that is my limit it was 14 K round trip.

[jonny5]

I did 22km one day in norway, and was lucky enough to get 1 hour of fishing in and one nice brown trout. If i was better at map reading, I would have noticed that although we were almost at our goal, the last few km were by far the hardest.

 

I prefer more fishing to walking or at least a fair mix of the two, but that trip was aimed at hiking, but I couldn't resist rising trout even with a storm coming up behind me. IMHO, its worth the extra time, as unbothered fish are so nice to catch.

[Castuserraticus]

For me the decider is the driving to fun ratio. I enjoy hiking and usually do a pretty quick pace so a 20km day is not a big deal. I dread the drive more than the hike.

 

A qualifier is that it has to be a hike rather than a bushwhack. I tend to loose my enthusiasm after just a few km of climbing over and under dead fall.

 

[flyfishfairwx]

I have done 65Km, with a 50lb ruck and a Carl G and 2 PRC Batteries, and the the Radio, and my webbing and ammo, and weapon and grub, and only got to look at the river as we crossed it and not on a bridge..... :$*%&:

 

 

So any thing slightly under that... but only if there is Fly Fishing at trails end.. .

 

 

 

truthfully now it's the body that tells me how far and most times it not that damn far....

[Tungsten]

The limit for me is the far parking lot at Mckinnon to the launch.

[DrBullet]

So several of us where having this discussion over the weekend regarding how far we have or would hike in and out of a lake in a day. Of course the the terrain and the fitness of an individual plays a role in determining what one would challenge. We kinda came to the conclusion that about

3 to 4 hours in and 3 to 4 hours out would be the very maximum so generally about 16 km return.

One guy said he is fine walking in the dark with headlights.

Anyone have their own stories or thoughts.

 

OK, I’m going to embarrass myself for your amusement. Firstly, it is important to remember I come from a land which does not contain the various “fatal-beasties” that roam the Canadian Rockies. Being surprised by a rising grouse is about as dangerous as the local fauna gets. Anyway, September 2007, four months after arriving in Calgary and having had little (NO!) luck on the Bow (North West), I thought I should pick a lake from the map book and set out to catch a fish. Lake Loomis seemed to be well recommended and in the map book, it stated “13km round-trip”; “6.5km each way”, I reasoned. My wife and child were away so I woke up late, it took me longer to get my sh!t together than it should have and I then drove to the trailhead over the other side of Highwood pass. The first suggested entry to the trailhead was indistinguishable from uniform scrub so onto the next entry marked on the map. By this time it was ~1.30pm…OK…maybe getting on for 2pm!

 

I decided that I would ride my bike as far as possible and then hike. The trail is an old forestry access road but the latter stages cannot have been used for at least 10 years, judging by the tree growth. The first hurdle was crossing the Highwood river. There was not exceptional flow but I attempted to cross by walking across a fairly narrow log, carrying my bike and with my dog on a lead (trying to be oh-so law abiding!). Needless to say, my dog drifted with the current, got caught in my bike and we all had a bit of a rinse. Not a good start. On the plus note, I did see two very large trout in the pool just below the log crossing…in hindsight I should have just fished there!

 

Onwards and upwards. Dog survived. I dried. Bike was blissfully unaware. The first part of the trail is very rideable. I made steady progress up the trail, not being too frantic because, after all, “it’s only 6.5km to the lake”, I thought. After about 8km of riding and looking around, I could not see how my current surroundings fitted with the context of the lake as depicted on the map. I began to doubt whether I was, in fact, in the right valley at all. I was wearing a wrist-mounted GPS and my map had co-ordinates…but the scale was pretty large and I began to doubt its accuracy. Pushing on, the trail degenerated. I was spending more and more time pushing my bike and lifting it over fallen trees. I hadn’t seen a sole all afternoon and there was certainly no sign of the lake or any terrain that might be hiding a lake. I eventually ditched my bike near the edge of the forest and set off at a lively pace. It was getting late so my thinking was that if I could gain some altitude, I would be able to look down on the lake and know where it was…for the next time; it was now 6.20pm. I scrambled up a scree slope and kept looking down the valley to try and spot the lake…nothing. I eventually climbed to the top of the scree slope and looked down in bemusement; I must be in the wrong place. ~13km from the trailhead, no sign of the lake…damn those map publishers. Then I looked behind me…Lake Loomis! Teaming with slashing, jumping, rising fish! I looked at the time and the amount of light in the sky…and the voraciously feeding fish…and (foolishly) decided it was worth a cast! I quickly assembled my 6 piece travel rod, rigged up and started casting. Within 3-4 casts I had a fish on…every cast had resulted in a take of some kind. Unfortunately the sight of silver torpedoes homing in on my fly from the depths of the crystal clear glacial water, combined with my time-related anxieties, meant I was premature on my early strikes. One nice fish to hand…”one more and then I’ve gotta go”, I thought.

 

Unfortunately, my increasing anxiety regarding the time meant I was even less patient with each successive strike. Eventually, though not much later, I thought “I really need to get off this hill”! I packed up my rod and set off for my bike down in the forest. Although the sun had gone behind the mountain, there was still a lot of light in the sky. I scrambled back down the scree slope making maximum use of my hiking poles, got back to my bike…and suddenly it was as if someone turned out the lights! I could still see some contrast so, figuring that I would be quicker on my bike, I set off down the very tenuous “track”. As I said at the start of this message, I am no expert on Albertan wildlife. However, I was pretty sure that I was passing through range of large predators, unlikely to see them before they saw me and therefore, quite likely to surprise both of us should we happen to meet. I did have a head torch but reasoned that I would rather have the breadth of vision afforded without it rather than the tunnel vision caused by its use. I continued down the trail, eyes straining open to capture any available light but dealing with ever diminishing contrast. Eventually, on my third collision with the unseen conifers which grew randomly in the middle of the trail, I decided that, tunnel vision or not, the head torch was required to get me home in one piece.

 

The advice I had heard regarding “travel in bear country” recommended singing and generally making noise. However, when using maximum exertion to propel oneself out of a potentially dangerous situation, there is little aerobic capacity remaining for song! I turned to modern technology, put my mobile phone MP3 player on full volume on the external speaker mode and hoped that that would provide some warning to the bears that a hapless meal was coming their way! Although I was obviously concerned, I was really too busy concentrating on staying upright, ensuring my dog was safe (and immediately behind me) and generally focused on the task of making as much progress down the trail as possible…to really dwell on the potential dangers or outcomes. As the trail surface became more predictable and my speed increased, I became more aware of sounds around me. Every crack of a twig in the adjacent forest echoed like a gunshot…”just deer”, I told myself. Eventually I reached the log crossing near the trailhead…and waded straight through the river. I got back to the van at 10-10.30pm. Despite the glorious weather during the day, it was an absolutely pitch black night…no stars, no moon; utter darkness.

 

So, if anyone has been dedicated enough to read this far (sorry if I’ve bored you!)…that was my introduction to back-country fishing in Canada. In answer to the original question, ~25km is eminently do-able in a day…with an early start, a companion, a decent map, and a modicum of restraint! I’m sure many of you have read this and thought ”this is just the type of bear-fodder muppet that gives Canada a bad name”. Yes, guilty as charged. In mitigation, in Scottish mountains, if the evening hatch was particularly productive and the weather agreeable, I would simple grab a couple of hours sleep beside a rock and start fishing again as the sun crept towards the horizon, comfortable in the knowledge that a fox, deer or hare would be the largest mammals I might encounter. It really didn’t matter what time I arrived, left or travelled to any loch. Suffice to say, I think I made almost every possible mistake on my first fishing sortie into the Canadian Rockies and the lessons have been well learned!

 

By the way, Lake Loomis is a great spot!

[ÜberFly]

Nigel,

 

Now that we've hooked up several times now... I've been able to decrease the distance travelled and dramatically increased the landing ratio! 3rd week of June - secret spot, mark it on your calendar!!

 

 

P

 

Cheers

OK, I’m going to embarrass myself for your amusement. Firstly, it is important to remember I come from a land which does not contain the various “fatal-beasties” that roam the Canadian Rockies. Being surprised by a rising grouse is about as dangerous as the local fauna gets. Anyway, September 2007, four months after arriving in Calgary and having had little (NO!) luck on the Bow (North West), I thought I should pick a lake from the map book and set out to catch a fish. Lake Loomis seemed to be well recommended and in the map book, it stated “13km round-trip”; “6.5km each way”, I reasoned. My wife and child were away so I woke up late, it took me longer to get my sh!t together than it should have and I then drove to the trailhead over the other side of Highwood pass. The first suggested entry to the trailhead was indistinguishable from uniform scrub so onto the next entry marked on the map. By this time it was ~1.30pm…OK…maybe getting on for 2pm!

 

I decided that I would ride my bike as far as possible and then hike. The trail is an old forestry access road but the latter stages cannot have been used for at least 10 years, judging by the tree growth. The first hurdle was crossing the Highwood river. There was not exceptional flow but I attempted to cross by walking across a fairly narrow log, carrying my bike and with my dog on a lead (trying to be oh-so law abiding!). Needless to say, my dog drifted with the current, got caught in my bike and we all had a bit of a rinse. Not a good start. On the plus note, I did see two very large trout in the pool just below the log crossing…in hindsight I should have just fished there!

 

Onwards and upwards. Dog survived. I dried. Bike was blissfully unaware. The first part of the trail is very rideable. I made steady progress up the trail, not being too frantic because, after all, “it’s only 6.5km to the lake”, I thought. After about 8km of riding and looking around, I could not see how my current surroundings fitted with the context of the lake as depicted on the map. I began to doubt whether I was, in fact, in the right valley at all. I was wearing a wrist-mounted GPS and my map had co-ordinates…but the scale was pretty large and I began to doubt its accuracy. Pushing on, the trail degenerated. I was spending more and more time pushing my bike and lifting it over fallen trees. I hadn’t seen a sole all afternoon and there was certainly no sign of the lake or any terrain that might be hiding a lake. I eventually ditched my bike near the edge of the forest and set off at a lively pace. It was getting late so my thinking was that if I could gain some altitude, I would be able to look down on the lake and know where it was…for the next time; it was now 6.20pm. I scrambled up a scree slope and kept looking down the valley to try and spot the lake…nothing. I eventually climbed to the top of the scree slope and looked down in bemusement; I must be in the wrong place. ~13km from the trailhead, no sign of the lake…damn those map publishers. Then I looked behind me…Lake Loomis! Teaming with slashing, jumping, rising fish! I looked at the time and the amount of light in the sky…and the voraciously feeding fish…and (foolishly) decided it was worth a cast! I quickly assembled my 6 piece travel rod, rigged up and started casting. Within 3-4 casts I had a fish on…every cast had resulted in a take of some kind. Unfortunately the sight of silver torpedoes homing in on my fly from the depths of the crystal clear glacial water, combined with my time-related anxieties, meant I was premature on my early strikes. One nice fish to hand…”one more and then I’ve gotta go”, I thought.

 

Unfortunately, my increasing anxiety regarding the time meant I was even less patient with each successive strike. Eventually, though not much later, I thought “I really need to get off this hill”! I packed up my rod and set off for my bike down in the forest. Although the sun had gone behind the mountain, there was still a lot of light in the sky. I scrambled back down the scree slope making maximum use of my hiking poles, got back to my bike…and suddenly it was as if someone turned out the lights! I could still see some contrast so, figuring that I would be quicker on my bike, I set off down the very tenuous “track”. As I said at the start of this message, I am no expert on Albertan wildlife. However, I was pretty sure that I was passing through range of large predators, unlikely to see them before they saw me and therefore, quite likely to surprise both of us should we happen to meet. I did have a head torch but reasoned that I would rather have the breadth of vision afforded without it rather than the tunnel vision caused by its use. I continued down the trail, eyes straining open to capture any available light but dealing with ever diminishing contrast. Eventually, on my third collision with the unseen conifers which grew randomly in the middle of the trail, I decided that, tunnel vision or not, the head torch was required to get me home in one piece.

 

The advice I had heard regarding “travel in bear country” recommended singing and generally making noise. However, when using maximum exertion to propel oneself out of a potentially dangerous situation, there is little aerobic capacity remaining for song! I turned to modern technology, put my mobile phone MP3 player on full volume on the external speaker mode and hoped that that would provide some warning to the bears that a hapless meal was coming their way! Although I was obviously concerned, I was really too busy concentrating on staying upright, ensuring my dog was safe (and immediately behind me) and generally focused on the task of making as much progress down the trail as possible…to really dwell on the potential dangers or outcomes. As the trail surface became more predictable and my speed increased, I became more aware of sounds around me. Every crack of a twig in the adjacent forest echoed like a gunshot…”just deer”, I told myself. Eventually I reached the log crossing near the trailhead…and waded straight through the river. I got back to the van at 10-10.30pm. Despite the glorious weather during the day, it was an absolutely pitch black night…no stars, no moon; utter darkness.

 

So, if anyone has been dedicated enough to read this far (sorry if I’ve bored you!)…that was my introduction to back-country fishing in Canada. In answer to the original question, ~25km is eminently do-able in a day…with an early start, a companion, a decent map, and a modicum of restraint! I’m sure many of you have read this and thought ”this is just the type of bear-fodder muppet that gives Canada a bad name”. Yes, guilty as charged. In mitigation, in Scottish mountains, if the evening hatch was particularly productive and the weather agreeable, I would simple grab a couple of hours sleep beside a rock and start fishing again as the sun crept towards the horizon, comfortable in the knowledge that a fox, deer or hare would be the largest mammals I might encounter. It really didn’t matter what time I arrived, left or travelled to any loch. Suffice to say, I think I made almost every possible mistake on my first fishing sortie into the Canadian Rockies and the lessons have been well learned!

 

By the way, Lake Loomis is a great spot!

 

[dube]

DrBullet, I would say that the adventure you speak of is about as Canadian as it gets. It's all about being on that thin line of having an epic adventure and having an utter disaster. It's not exactly wise to fly by the seat of your pants in backcountry situations but no matter how prepared you think you are getting humbled by nature is only ever one step away. Good story.

 

I prefer to fish while I hike. I can only see myself doing any serious hiking to fish if it were to get above a set of falls or into a canyon. I'm not sure alpine lakes are my thing, and really prefer moving water. I also usually fish by myself and am not completely comfortable hiking 10km into the bush alone to start fishing and end up another 3-4km further, just to have to slog back out in the dark. If it were a couple guys and a super ultra secret spot I can see doing a long weekend trip where you hike a day in and fish for a day and out third day.

[reevesr1]

DrBullet,

I enjoyed that story greatly. Thanks.

[darrinhurst]

I also enjoyed that story.

 

Thank you for the smile.

 

I hope the first time I venture into back coutry doesn't result in a similar scenario, sans doggy.

[BBBrownie]

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...