A boulder walked into a bar...

A couple weekends ago I went hiking over on Boulder Mountain with a few of my brothers and one of my brothers-in-law. I used to go hiking in the Boulder area almost yearly when I was in high school but I hadn't been back 'till now. For those of you who don't know, Boulder Mountain sits between Boulder town and Loa, in the south-central part of the state. It is one of my most favorite places to visit. The terrain is rugged and beautiful. To give you an idea of just how rugged it is, the town was settled around 1879, yet no roads were built until the Civilian Conservation Corps came along in 1935. Boulder was the last town in the U.S. to have it's mail delivered by mules, and electricity wasn't brought in until 1947.

Anyway, enough with the history lesson. We left for Boulder late Thursday afternoon, September 4th. We stopped in Cedar City to pick up Josh, and then headed over to Carl's Jr. for some grub. It was delish. After another stop in Hatch for a pee break and gasoline, we were off on our way again. We got to the trail head at about 10:00 that night, so we pulled out our tents and sleeping gear and hastily set up camp next to the truck. It was a little cold and the ground was bumpy, but for the most part it was just like sleeping outside on the ground. The next morning we woke up to a beautiful view out over the Boulder canyon country.
Before we broke camp and got everything packed up we cooked up a quick breakfast of Pop-Tarts, granola bars, and such. Harley even scrounged up a tasty meal of sawed-off deer leg. YUM!


Actually, I don't think he wanted to eat it, I think he wanted to play fetch. I hope he wasn't too dissapointed whe I didn't oblige. The hike in was about 2.7 miles. It only took the first one hundred feet of it for me to figure out how out of shape I am. I was wheezing and gasping for air like an old man hooked up on oxygen after hearing that the world has run out of it's oxygen supply! It was pathetic. Luckily, it was only 2.7 miles, and after the first mile, which was steeper than a wall, things leveled off and the rest of the hike wasn't too bad. This was Harley's first time carrying a pack and he did much better with it than I did, and he's only one year old!
Our final destination was Deer Creek Lake. After hiking around for a bit we managed to find a suitable camp site. It came complete with it's very own fire ring and logs for sitting. Fantastic! We set up our tents in an out of the way place on a small hill and tucked up in the middle of some trees. This would be home for the next few days.

After we got camp all set up, we made the short trek up to Green Lake. This lake is one of the main reasons I love this place so much. It's a very narrow but long lake, the water is extremely clear, and bright green moss and algae cover all the rocks in the water. It is absolutely beautiful and if I were a river, this is the lake I'd want to flow into.

We spent the next few hours here fishing to no avail. Our frustration was compounded by the fact that because the water is so clear, we could see the fish swimming around taunting us and making faces. Stupid fish. Josh, being the avid fisherman he is, kept pluggin away, trying to scare the fish with his mean little fisherman tactics. I decided to strip down and go for a swim in the balmy 50 degree water (sorry, no pictures), and Steve, Spencer & Bryan decided to skip rocks (I joined in on this activity too, fully clothed) which led to a contest to see who could skip the largest rock, which led to who could throw the largest boulder and make the biggest splash. After a while we got bored of this too, stumbled upon a wild raspberry patch, and had a nice feast.

After feeling that the fish had officially gotten the best of us, we decided to head back to camp. We stopped at Deer Creek Lake to fill our water containers, and Josh decided he'd try his fishing magic here. I thought he was crazy, so I left him there and went back to camp. My brothers all headed back to camp too. If Josh wanted to stay there and let those fish make a bigger fool out of him, that was his problem. You can imagine my surprise when, about 30 minutes later, Josh comes wandering in with the biggest fish he'd caught all day! Congrat's Josh. I'm sure the fish up there will be talking for a while about the day they almost skunked you.

The next morning we woke up, looked out at the lake, and saw the fish jumping like a kangaroo on prozac. We were about to eat breakfast, but decided our time would be better served by going out there to slaughter those fish. The banks of Deer Creek Lake are engulfed in reeds and other marshy grasses, so a hike half-way around the lake was required to reach a few rocky areas with access to the water. It was a nice hike, but the fish must have sensed our presence as they slowly began to reduce their erratic jumping. Bryan hung back closer to camp on a large rock that reached out into the water, the rest of us took the hike. When we reached the rocks, we threw all we had at those fish! Again, they would just sit there and taunt us, occasionally jumping out of the water, mere feet from where our lures were cast. Bryan eventually caught up to us, clutching in his hands a fish that apparently didn't get the memo from all the other fish to not let us catch them. Poor fish. We cooked it up for luch to honor it's lack of memo reading skills.

After lunch we hiked over to Chriss Lake to check out the fishing scene there. The lake was about a mile and a half from camp, and was a nice scenic jaunt. We passed a spring, a pond, a stream, and enough cattle to supply Burger King for two hours. I didn't really care for all the cattle, but Harley sure enjoyed them! He'd try to chase them until I'd call him back or until the real stubborn ones would lower their heads ready to charge! It must be the Australian Shepherd in his blood. I'm sure he'd have done a great job of herding those cows if I let him. Now that I look back on it, I should've. A big juicy steak would have been nice.

Chriss Lake wasn't too impressive. It was littered with moss and weeds, and there was only one spot on the entire shore suitable for fishing. Josh busted out his pole determined to give those fish the time of their life, and I hung around for a while trying to decide if I was as determined as Josh. I wasn't. My brothers had left and walked halfway around the lake the check things out. I decided to join them. After about an hour or so, we left the lake (I think Josh said he caught two or three fish) and headed north toward Mooseman Reservoir. Initially, that was our first destination, before Chriss Lake, but somehow we had missed the trail and decided to go on to Chriss Lake instead of turning back to find it. It now became apparent how we had missed the trail. It would dissapear and reappear only to dissapear again. Obviously the trail is not used often. If it were not for my GPS unit, I don't think we would have ever found the lake.

After about a mile however, we came over a small rise and before us lay Mooseman Reservoir. This is by far one of the prettiest lakes I have ever seen. It is small and nestles up against the foot of the steep hillside that reaches up to the top of Boulder Mountain. Old stumps protrude from the water, evidence of a busy beaver or two that once called the place home. The lake is shallow, the deepest spot I saw was only a few feet. Again, you could see the fish swimming through the crystal clear water. We spent an hour or two here, trying our hardest to trick the fish into snapping up our flies. I think they must have gotten the memo from the Deer Creek fish. Nobody caught a thing. As we were leaving the lake, getting ready to head back to camp, we hear an elk bugle from the hillside above us. We stood there and listened to his call for a few minutes, taking in the beauty around us.
On the way back to camp, Josh decided he'd find the safest and easiest route back by taking the lead. At the bottom of a hill and just past and old beaver dam, his dedication to the group was clearly evident as he graciously stepped into gooey black calf-deep mud, just to let us all know it was there. Thanks Josh. You rock.

The next day was our last. We decided to taunt the fish this day and not go fishing. I know they were just waiting for us to come and make fools of ourselves again, but this time, we were the ones who made fools of them! We packed up our gear and headed off on the trail. We had another 2.7 miles to go, but this time it was all downhill. After reaching the truck, we loaded up our stuff, drove down to Boulder, and stopped at the Burr Trail Grill where I firmly believe you can get the best burgers ever made in the town of Boulder. Excellent.