Unique Fishing Trip Creates Funny Memories for Father, Daughter

LAKE CITY, Colo. - The crisp, cool mountain air hugged me as I awakened from a peaceful night's sleep in the family RV.

The rushing water of a nearby stream provided a melody that energized me and left me yearning for a fishing trip with Dad.

I was such a Daddy's girl. And at age 10, I had already fallen deeply in love with the majestic mountains around Lake City, Colo., and the streams and rivers that carved their way through the breathtaking landscape. I felt like I was as close to Heaven as I could get when I was trout fishing with Dad.

On this particular morning, I really wanted a piece of that Heaven, but I knew nothing had been planned. In fact, my excitement quickly diminished when Dad asked if I wanted to go somewhere with him and Uncle Rex. Now I love Uncle Rex, but he didn't figure in my plans. All I wanted was a fishing day with my dad all alone on Henson Creek. But that wasn't to be, so I reluctantly agreed to hop in the truck and go with them, even though I had no clue where we were going.

First stop: the Lake City Bakery where I got to sink my teeth into my all-time favorite delight, a sausage kolache. Although I loved kolaches, I still wasn't satisfied. It couldn't even come close to comparing with a fishing trip.

After stocking up on goodies, we hopped back in the truck. Uncle Rex started driving toward Slumgullion Pass, where vacationers like us can see some of the most amazing Colorado scenery. Rex and Dad gave me a history lesson on how a landslide on Slumgullion carved out Lake San Cristobal. Farther up the road, Dad showed me Deer Lakes campground, the first place he stayed in a tent when he began making yearly pilgrimages to Lake City. Rex and Dad pointed out deer every time they spied some and spoke of numerous memories. The lessons and scenery were cool, but it still wasn't fishing with Dad.

Rex kept driving and it wasn't long before we ended up at Continental Reservoir. "Holy cow," I thought to myself. "We're gonna go fishing." Or were we? We all just sat in the truck for the longest time and studied what was going on there. On this day, they were draining the lake for some reason, and allowing fishermen to get in with nets and haul out as many fish as they could.

"Hey Robyn," Uncle Rex said. "I've got my fire boots and a net in the back. Would you like to go fishing? Would you like to try that?"

Without thinking, I jumped at the opportunity. I obviously had no idea what I was getting into, but I loved the adventure of it. So Rex got out of the truck, got out his boots that he wore to fight fires when he was back home in Custer City, Okla., and handed me his net.

"These are going to be a little big," he said, with a sheepish grin on his face. "They'll be alright, won't they?"

"A little big" was an understatement. His size 12 boots looked like clown shoes on my size-5 feet. It made it a little difficult for walking. By this time, I was pumped and ready though. An army of men couldn't have kept me from trying this new adventure.

So there I went in my clown shoes. I stepped into the area of the lake where it was draining and put my net down in the water, which was rushing through at a breakneck pace. It was difficult for me to even stand up. A few seconds after stepping in, I brought my net out of the water and found that I had landed two big fish.

"Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh," I remembered screaming. "This is awesome!"

Fishing had never been so easy. I put my net back in the water and kept pulling out fish after fish. Each was met with my screams of excitement. I was having so much fun that I didn't realize I was being video-taped by three or four different vacationers that I didn't even know. Still, I didn't care. I was going to have some stories to tell when I got back to the camper with an endless string of fish.

When I got tired of standing in the same place, I decided it was time to move. But there was a major problem. I couldn't move. Not one step. I had bogged down in the mud with Rex's clodhoppers on my feet. It was a pasty mud that offered no forgiveness for young, amateur fishermen.

"I can't move! I can't move! What am I going to do?" I screamed. "Help me! Help me! Help me! Somebody please help me!"

I must have screamed for help at least 100 times. I'm sure I seemed like an over-the-top drama queen, but I was really concerned. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life planted in the muck.

"Put your net down and fish," Dad yelled, while trying to contain his roaring laughter. "Catch us a big one!"

I looked up to see Rex and a mass of vacationers laughing, too. One vacationer was bold enough to walk down closer to me so he could get a nice video shot of my dilemma and my screaming.

I was not a happy camper. I knew if I was going to get out of that draining lake, I would have to do it alone. So, I stooped down a little, plunged my hands into the water and pulled hard on the top of one boot, hoping I could dislodge it from the mud and take one step forward. Instead I just fell backwards and drenched myself. I went to Plan B. And C.And D. And...Eventually -- and God only knows how - I crawled out of that lake, covered from head to toe with mud and completely soaked.

Once I made it to the bank, I got a thunderous round of applause from all the onlookers there. I'm sure glad they thought it was funny; I sure didn't.

When we arrived back at the campground, no one cared that I had caught more fish than any professional fisherman would catch in his lifetime. No, Dad and Rex had everyone cackling with laughter as they told every detail of my escape from that lake.

That story never died. It irritated me at first, but now I'm glad it came up at every family reunion and during every holiday. That vacation was one of the last I got to spend with Dad before his death seven years ago. I would give anything to go back and do it all again.

Maybe Uncle Rex will take me back to that spot one day. Hopefully, though, he will leave his clodhoppers at home.

Robyn Hoffman, "Unique Fishing Trip Creates Funny Memories for Father, Daughter." Associated Content