On a camping and fishing outing, years ago, well 20 to 25 years ago, we went to Riffe Lake, Washington. It was pretty secluded. No bathrooms. No running water or developed campgrounds, but the fishing was great. All the kokanee salmon you could eat. Salmon and potatoes over an open fire. The good ole’ days.
We were camping, by “we” I mean my three nephews, their father, and his stepchild. There was Rick. He wasn’t a fishing person, so he would bring a book and a box of cereal. Next was David. He seemed to like fishing and wasn’t bad at it. Next was Andy. He was a fishing fool. He would catch a fish just to cut it open. Then there was Joe. He really didn’t seem to like fishing at all, and he was a little shy. The adults were myself and the kids' father, Roy. We both liked fishing and camping.
Anyway, the first night we camped in an area above the lake at the far end. You could see the lake and still be within walking distance from it. The campground was down a road, up and around a corner, and through an open area where trees surrounded the whole campground. We all ate plenty of salmon that night, roasted marshmallows, laughed and had a good time.
Just before bed, I went out, away from the fire and down a trail, and stopped when I heard something in front of me in the brush, and about then heard a scream from a big cat, a cougar. I started walking backwards, towards the camp fire, got back to the fire, built it up, and felt safer. We all went to bed in our tents, and in the morning I woke up early, at day break, and didn’t want to wake anyone up, so I left and went walking down to the lake, across a bridge, and started fishing on the other side. About then, across the lake, a big buck deer came running out of the woods, paced back and forth, and jumped into the lake, swimming right towards me.
By the time the deer got about half way across, a cougar jumped out of the woods, paced back and forth, then sauntered back into the woods. The big buck was still swimming straight at me. I reeled my line in, and there I was, standing with a fishing pole in one hand and tackle in the other, and the big buck climbs out of the water, not caring whether I’m there or not, and I don’t blame it. If a cougar was on my butt, I wouldn’t care either. Anyway, it looked at me, and I looked at it. It went its way, and I went mine.
So I headed back to the campground and told everyone about my morning adventure. Next, we all went to the lake and fished with worms, shrimp, and corn, and we all caught our limit and went back to camp to eat breakfast.
Through the winter, it flooded in spots at the lake, though it was receding, and left little places where there was water standing, a couple feet deep and 30 to 40 feet across. Joe had found a stray black lab dog and was playing with him. Joe was about 12 or 13 years old. I couldn’t tell you how old the dog was. Joe was playing fetch with the dog, but the dog wasn’t fetching, Joe was, so I had to get in on it. I would throw a stick and tell the dog to get it. He wouldn’t, so Joe would. Well, sometimes the dog would, but most of the time Joe would, so it got real interesting and funny. I would throw the stick in the two foot deep water. The dog looked at me, and Joe got the stick. After doing this for about half an hour, we went back to camp. The stray dog came back with us, hung around for about an hour, and then left.
All in all, it was a great camping trip.
—Randy Long
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