Wow, my last post was back in September of 2014… which just goes to show that I’ve been busy, and that’s always a good thing. There have been some great blog-worthy things going on since then, but the time needed to get them into digital text has escaped me. Plus, my personal site looked like poop. The quick trip to Henry Coe Wilderness was the catalyst needed to revamp the site and get back at it.
*If you want to circumvent the reading process, HERE’S A VIDEO.
Lexi and I had been talking about it for a while; we’ve been trying to take advantage of whatever free time we have (which is seriously none I tell you) to do more backpacking, even if it is just for a night. My friend Sam mentioned that Coe was a fishing paradise at many of its little lakes, so I was quickly sold. I really wanted to get to a nice spot with fish to practice fly-casting and this sounded perfect.
With an early departure from Santa Cruz, we arrived to the park around 7am; some inside info from Sam helped us lock down parking and timing details.
Though we got there pretty early, there were definitely other hikers/campers who were just as eager to find good spots alongside the lake, so we made haste and got to the trail head quickly.
Though the day ended up being quite warm, the mornings were cold as hell. We passed some California Newts along the way that were barely moving across the trail; they were slowly thawing out as the day was breaking. The beginning of the hike was probably 36 degrees in the covered, shadier spots. Shit’s cold, yo.
The landscape in Coe is very different than what I am accustom to when backpacking. I immediately think of the Sierras when I think of backpacking. Henry Coe is beautiful rolling plains with the occasional cornucopia of oak trees, providing the necessary escape from the blazing morning sun. The setting reminded me of Lotus, where I grew up: a deciduous backdrop with poison oak errwhere.
We saw lots of wildlife along the trails. I even saw a Horned Toad which was pretty cool, but it wasn’t a huge fan of cameras. We had to constantly check for ticks as they were out in droves and I found a few on my legs even when staying mostly on the trail the entire time.
Miraculously, we made it to our destination before (albeit minutes before) any other hikers. Apparently we made great time, and luckily the other group we saw had decided to take a longer, less strenuous route. Lucky for us, we arrived first and got down on the prime real-estate right away.
Kelly Lake doesn’t offer a plethora of shade and flat spots for ideal tent-pitching. Most of the other groups that arrived behind us moved on to find spots at other lakes. One group of three ended up camping near us at Kelly Lake. They were awesome and a total pleasure to share the lake with.
After camp was set up, the fishing began, and didn’t stop till we were ready to leave the next day. Every cast produced a bite; top water was especially entertaining. There were guys with spinning reels having decent success with lures, but the top water flies and poppers I was using were pulling fish in almost every cast. The fish were all pretty small, but this trip was a numbers game, and I caught at least 50; I stopped counting after a while. I was mainly pulling in Blue Gill and little 10-12” LMBs.
Mid-day was HOT. As I was moving slowly around the tent to get some things out of my backpack, I locked eyes with a big rattlesnake that was no more than 3 feet from me. We both scared each other, and it quickly made its way into closest gopher hole. Pucker-factor was high.
It was a little disconcerting to say the least. A rattlesnake just hanging out in the sun and doesn’t even bother to use its rattle and let me know it’s there. That encounter could’ve ended much worse; it was a good reminder that the hike out wasn’t the quickest in case you know, you get bit in the face by a large-assed rattler. I wish I could’ve gotten a pic with the snake though, it was huge.
The fishing slowed in the hottest parts of the day and early morning, but I stayed super busy practicing my casts and landing fish. Lexi got in on the fly-fishing action and pulled in a couple nice blue gill on the fly rod.
The night was cold and when I got up to fish in the morning I was struggling to tie knots, my hands were so numb.
The bite was a little slow but started to pick up. Before anyone else was awake, I was caught off guard by a huge bass rising to hit the little foam fly that I was stripping across the glassy, steam-covered water. My life became bullet-time as I watched this large shadow slowly appear out of nowhere. It was at least a 5lber, and it majestically and effortlessly swallowed the fly and darted to head back into the shadows.
As soon as I set the hook, it felt like I was snagged on a rock. The fish took off, started tugging hard and immediately snapped my 4x tippet. It was an emotional 30 seconds that I had to deal with alone. It will still be there for me to catch another time though.
Lex and I headed back to the car, back to Santa Cruz, to get ready to go back to work the next day.
Henry Coe is now on my radar for any weekends we might have free in the future. It was a perfect day/night hike and camp that is so close, it’s going to become a thing.
