Looked for fish, found something better
shroomin with a lil black bear
I found a gem the other day, and I am elated. As the weather has warmed up, a magical change is occurring in the mountains, the ice is melting. While this means many things, for me it signals a new fishery: alpine lakes. These are the bodies of water that exist in the potholes of the North Cascades, the Rockies, or any mountain range. These lakes hold some of the most magnificent fish and are typically arduous to access. Meaning that they receive little pressure from other anglers, which is one of the most important characteristics when it comes to a fishing spot for me. Many times, I’d rather not see a human than catch a fish.
There was a steady drizzle along the Middle Fork of the Nooksack River, and while it may be the middle of June, this is still the PNW, and sunshine is not a common occurrence. Thankfully, this rain just keeps everyone else at home. I began my hike and reveled in the feeling of being on a new trail. Every step takes you into an unforeseen land where you never know what is around the corner.
It was an easy hike with a steady uphill, but nothing too steep. I crossed multiple small creeks throughout the day that added to the dampness creeping into my socks. Frustratingly, the temperature and level of exertion required made it too hot for a rain jacket, so I just hiked in a t-shirt. I was soaked but damn it felt good. Nothing like knowing that no matter how wet you get you probably won’t become hypothermic. It’s no fun when it’s the other way around.
One of the joys of being in the North Cascades is that we have a healthy population of black bear. Having spent time in Alaska, I have interacted with quite a few coastal brown bears, but the black bear is an entirely different creature. Black bears remind me of squirrels. They scamper around somewhat erratically searching for a lost nut, but they’re pretty peaceful. Brown bears feel like a hippo. They eat a lot of vegetables, but damn that thing will kill you.
I was about halfway to the destination when I stopped at a small creek to catch my breath and have a mushroom snack. As I was snacking a black shape came into the corner of my view about thirty yards above and to my left. I was standing in a rather deep gorge, and I instantly looked up to see a black bear cruising down this mountainside straight for the creek. I thought about grabbing my phone for a picture but quickly realized she had no idea I was in her path. I needed to say hello! I gave her a quick “hey bear” and she stopped instantly to cock her head sideways like a dog might after you make a funny noise. After a quick sniff and visual pat down, she wanted nothing to do with me. She took off up the hill much like a squirrel climbs a tree when startled.
It was an absolutely adorable interaction, but I wish she would have hung around a bit longer. That being said, had I not said hello when I did, she would’ve been sniffing my foot.
With my heart rate a bit elevated and my day absolutely fulfilled, I continued through the rest of the hike making a bit more noise than I had at the beginning of the day. As a simple tip, when existing in bear country, being quiet is the best way to get hurt. Unless you are actively hunting, make your presence known so you avoid surprising Winnie the Pooh.
The rest of the hike was lovely, and I made it up to the lake just in time for it to start snowing. It was cold, and I was soaked, so I spent a quick twenty minutes planning my next adventure to the destination. Then, I pointed myself downhill and began the descent.
When I arrived back at the Middle Fork of the Nooksack, I felt incredibly satisfied. I had not caught any fish, but I had seen a bear, and there were no other humans to be found. The next time I come to this place, I will certainly bring a tent and spend the night. Maybe the bear will want to have a fireside chat about the pursuit of fish; she probably knows a lot on that subject. I wonder if she trusts absurdity. Apologies if that made you cringe.
Just when it seemed the day could not get any better, I noticed a special mushroom pointing out of the dirt. When I realized this was a morel mushroom, I audibly shit my pants. The first one of the season and my first in Washington. I was enamored. I quickly realized that it would not be appropriate for me to harvest this mushroom. Much like fish karma, I firmly believe in mushroom karma. This first mushroom of my Washington journey was an incredible gift and I could not accept.
I will, however, giddily run around the forest for the next two hours searching for all the other morels that sadly missed the Cliff Watson pardon. And boy oh boy did I find them.
It was a lovely day to be in the woods. It was a lovely day to be alive. The bear, the mushrooms, the lake, the fish I will one day catch, they are all gifts. Be sure to express your gratitude to Mother Nature. She holds us all gently in the palm of her hand; don't forget it.