The first part of our fishing week consisted of testing out my new Tenkara Fly Fishing setup in the easiest possible way, by driving up to Whitney Portal, via its stocked fishing pond, and afterwards heading to the Onion Valley campground, where we could dayhike to a proper High Sierra Lake, Robinson Lake, and try to catch trout in more natural conditions. By then, I would (hopefully) have my technique and gear dialed in, and be ready to venture further into the backcountry.
We left San Diego a day early, and started driving early, as well. That way we could beat the horrible L.A. traffic and also get in some quality fishing time at Whitney Portal. When we visited last year, we actually watched as the tiny artificial pond was being stocked with trout! And that’s how we knew that this was a good place to try out my new fly fishing setup. Many of the families and kids that stay in the nearby campgrounds try to catch fish there. Most of the people I saw last year were using bobbers and spinning reels, and not having a lot of luck. I figured that artificial flies were the way to go, especially after seeing the results of other fly fishermen back in 2020 in Big Pine Creek. The fly fishermen ruled those lakes.
Last year, Vicki tasted some freshly caught trout when we met a fly fisherwoman at Golden Trout Lake. And it turned out that Vicki was the one who really got “hooked.” That seemingly innocent taste of trout ended up costing me quite a bit of money! I did a lot of research over the Winter, and I eventually concluded that the Tenkara fishing method was the best one for my situation: Backpacking to High Sierra Lakes containing relatively small trout that you could see swimming along the shore. Tenkara was very light, as it had no reel. It was simply a very long pole with a similarly long length of fishing line, plus a fly on the end of it. The furthest I could cast would be about 25 feet, and if the fish was too big it would simply break the line, and then I’d have to tie on another fly and try again.
I had most of my lines and flies pre-tied at home, and when we arrived in Whitney Portal it didn’t take long to get ready. From shore, I could see a few fish in the little pond, so that was promising. I was also the only one fishing. I walked along the shore, casting out my line. Again and again. Most of the time the fish swam away when the fly landed. They were wary. But eventually they got used to me. I tried several spots. Another fly fisherman saw me and decided to try it, too. He didn’t have much luck, and gave up too soon. I kept trying. Why not? And then it happened. I watched as a trout stalked my helpless fly. It raced up and took it into its mouth. And that’s when I pulled up sharply on the pole. The hook bit into its lip and it was mine! Without a reel it was simply a matter of lifting the pole high in the air and bringing it onto shore, in one smooth motion. Vicki was excited, too, and ran up to take a photo (or ten!) of me holding the wriggling trout.
After that, it was Vicki’s turn in the spotlight. She was the chef, after all. She was also the one who craved eating freshly caught trout! Naturally, she wasn’t prepared for the next phase of the operation. We had been concentrating on catching fish, not cooking them. We retreated from the shore of the pond so the fish couldn’t escape, and Vicki went back to the car for a chair, a small table, the stove, and the filet knife. Soon, she was busy gutting and cleaning the fish. It was a bit messy, as we weren’t used to this yet, but soon enough it was frying in olive oil, in our new non-stick backpacking frypan. It smelled great, too.
When it was done frying, she spent some time teasing the fine bones out of the meat. She was good at this, and soon enough, she was tasting the freshly cooked trout. Yum! She also gave me one bite to try. But I’m not much of a fish lover, so that was OK by me.
What mattered most, however, was that this deed proved that I was now a Mighty Hunter and Food Provider! It’s a primitive idea, I know, but I felt primitive, so it’s all good. Later on, I joked that this had been one seriously expensive fish: It cost me about three hundred dollars! That fancy carbon fiber pole, the pricy custom lines, and the state fishing license didn’t come cheap. The logic followed that all I needed to do now was keep on fishing. Eventually, this would get the unit cost down to a reasonable level. Luckily, that was precisely our plan for the rest of the week.
After Whitney Portal, we spent the next night and morning up at Horseshoe Meadows campground, giving Vicki an extra night at 10,000 feet, but I have no photos to show for that. The next day is when we drove to Onion Valley, to begin the official fishing expedition. The portal had only been a test run. So we parked the “camperized” Rav4 at our reserved site early that afternoon, and generally just hung around the area. As the afternoon wore on, we realized that we were camped next door to two drunken couples. They were loud. We ended up moving the car to another empty site that evening, and had a peaceful night’s rest. The next morning the drunkards left, and we moved back to our true spot.
Once they were gone, we cleaned up from breakfast and got ourselves ready to check out Robinson Lake. We had hiked it once before, back in 2019, and I had photos of fish swimming in the water. That was all the proof I needed when planning this trip. Weather-wise, there was a cold front up north that morning, and it was cool and breezy. These are Vicki’s favorite conditions. So we started hiking up the Robinson Lake Trail, which began, conveniently enough, right in the campground itself. We crossed Independence Creek and began climbing up the long switchbacks to the top of the main waterfall. We’d been hearing the waterfall all night. Sadly, the trail never went anywhere near it.
This trail is only about a mile and a half long, but it also climbs 1400 feet in that distance, making it about a twenty percent grade, which is considerable. In other words, if you think that you will hike it in an hour, you should probably think again. It’s steep. And Vicki is extra-slow when it comes to UP, especially when not acclimated. It took us over three and a half hours to get to the lake! Vicki also had to nurse her recovering plantar fasciitis, which slowed us down more than usual. But we had fun doing it.
After we made it up the initial headwall (where the waterfall was located) the trail got a bit less steep. We hiked along through low pines, roughly paralleling Independence Creek. Up above us to the east was Independence Peak; some maniacs passed us by, intent on climbing it. Good for them! But we were here to fish. Soon, the trail crossed over some residual snow from last Winter, and also climbed along some granite slabs. We took our time, and paused often to look back down over Onion Valley. There were pretty cumulus clouds in the sky, blowing in from the west. The air remained cool.
We arrived at the lake a bit before noon. We found a sunny spot in the lee of a big boulder, and that became our Base of Operations. Vicki decided to take a nap right away, as she was tuckered out.
Meanwhile, I got out my fishing tackle. I attached a line to the pole, then extended out the long telescoping sections. The pole was twelve feet long, made of carbon fiber, and the skinniest top section wasn’t much thicker than a strand of thin spaghetti. Very flexible. This was the “Iwana” model, from TenkaraUSA. Why did I buy this one? It’s hard to say. There are so many choices that it’s frustrating. I think I mainly selected it because “I wanna” go fishing. Lame but true.
There were fish in the lake, all right. I could see them just fine. But most of them took one look at my fly and turned away. Fly fishing is all about trickery. The fly has no flavor, so it has to fool the fish into thinking it’s a tasty bug, so they bite on it. As soon as they realize that it’s actually made of tasteless thread, beads, and plastic fuzzy stuff they’ll spit it right back out. The fisherman has to set the hook at the perfect moment. Too soon, and it isn’t in its mouth. Too late, and it’s back out again. My problem was that they didn’t think it looked right. Or they weren’t hungry.
Naturally, as soon as I started, another family showed up at the lake. They were noisy, had two dogs that splashed in the lake, and they even had a drone. Drones aren’t allowed in the Wilderness. No motors and no wheels. That’s the basic rule. Anyway, I blamed them for my lack of luck. I even circumnavigated the entire lake, without a single bite. I went back and hung out with Vicki. She told me not to be discouraged. We decided to have some lunch, which always helps.
The Droning family finally left, and I went back out for another try. And I caught one! Whoo hoo!
Vicki was excited, too. Lunch had not been enough. She wanted trout. So she got out the kitchen. We had a light cutting board and her father’s old filet knife, and she got right down to business. Meanwhile, I decided to try my luck again. But I didn’t do it for long, because Vicki said that one fish was plenty. She wanted to cook it now, and if I caught another she’d have to start the cleaning process all over again. So I put away my rod and line. I got out my book and read it in the sun, while Vicki fried the Brookie. She ate it all, too. I didn’t mention it out loud, but she never even offered me a bite!
It was after 3pm by the time we finished cooking, eating, and cleaning up. We knew that it was going to be a slow downhill hike as well, due to the steepness and Vicki’s knees. So I put on the backpack and we headed out. We took our time, as we were in no rush. We also took several long breaks, but only when there was a nice view to be had. The final switchback seemed to take a long time. And then, near the campground, the trail crossed over Independence Creek on a log bridge, and we were home free.
Back in camp, it was already getting shady, as the sun sank below the surrounding mountains. The air got cooler. We made some dinner and sat at the picnic table to eat it. We walked around the campground afterward and met a young couple who had a “van life” camper. They were very friendly and nice. They even invited us to their fire that evening. So we got to hang out into the darkness for a change, talking about the world. Eventually, we got chilled, even with the fire, due to the incessant breeze, which hadn’t stopped all day. Then we headed back to the car and cuddled under the sleeping bag until we generated a bit more warmth. After that, we fell asleep.
The next morning we woke up at our usual early hour. We had to pack up all the correct gear for backpacking, while leaving the rest in the car. It was nice to have the use of the picnic table, and it was even nicer to discover that the cold breeze had finally quit. Maybe we’d have a pleasant hike up the Kearsarge Pass Trail, the main trail out of Onion Valley. And I hoped that the trout in Flower Lake were ready and willing to be caught. And eaten.
For a topographic map of the hike see my CalTopo Page
For LOTS more photos of the trek see my Flickr Page
On to Part 2 >> 
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