Westfield River with Chip
Where: Westfield River, East Branch
When: 6/25/94-6/26/94
With: Chip
When: 6/25/94-6/26/94
With: Chip
The Westfield River has three branches - West, Middle & East - which flow out of northwest Mass., converge west of Springfield, and then the whole thing dumps into the Connecticut River right at Springfield, which is probably why that city is there.
About the same time my brother Bill was asking about this river, Chip called me and said he'd been talking with another lawyer who told him of this great trout stream, which turned out to be the East branch, and a specific spot on the river named The Gorge. We started doing some research and found that this area is home to a couple of state forests, some wildlife management areas, a private nature preserve, and a Corps of Engineers flood control project. Maps in hand, I threw Jane and Andy in the car and we went on a scouting trip a few weeks back. Here's what we found: There's a 7-8 mile stretch of the river running between route 143 in Chesterfield and route 66. At the southern end, the Corps of Engineers' Knightville dam provides flood control. Upstream from the dam, the Corps owns all land up to about the 600' elevation on either side of the river. This land is also a Massachusetts Wildlife Management area. All totaled, 2430 acres of land are included in this area.
At the northern end of this area, where the Corps control ends, the East Branch state forest (2000 acres) takes over and continues north to the Trustees of Reservations (a private group) Chesterfield Gorge area, a nature preserve which includes a deep river gorge. The entire stretch of river, from the Gorge to the dam, is a designated catch & release fishing area - artificial lures only - and it's stocked with trout. An old road (River Road), now just a dirt road, runs the entire length, down the west side, providing easy access to any part of the river. A couple of gates keep out motor traffic, but hikers, hunters, fishermen, and mountain bikers are welcome. The river itself is gorgeous. Good and wide, not too deep (with chest waders you can cross almost anywhere), mostly rocky river bed with some silty flats and the occasional pool and even some deep gorges.
Well, I knew I'd found the place, so I went home and started to make plans with Chip. Camping is not really authorized, but we figured we'd have no trouble finding an out-of-the-way spot to put up a couple of tents. The car would be a problem though. Where to leave it where it wouldn't be towed or torched? I kept checking the maps and noticed something marked "Campsite" in the middle of the Corps area. It turns out to be a camping area run by the Corps, open by reservation to "community groups". I got some phone numbers and started calling, figuring if we could get in, we could at least leave the car there and then hike into the woods, but I never got anything more than an answering machine.
We decided to just go anyway and wing it. The hike day arrived and with it, a cool rain. Chip showed up around 8 and we were on our way soon thereafter. The trip out was straightforward: Turnpike to route 91 to route 9 to Northampton. We stopped in town for film and pipe tobacco. I went to the local CVS while Chip looked around. I soon came back with film but no tobacco. After locating Chip (who was quite enamored with the town), we went off in search of smoking material. We walked a bit and stopped to consider which way to go...that's when we noticed we were in front of a smoke shop! We went in, picked up an ounce of the house blend, and soon were on the road again.
Our next task was to find a place to park. Our plan was to start with the Corps campsite and see what it was like. If it didn't look good, we'd either just drive around or ask some farmer for permission to park on their land. As it turned out, the campsite was fine. We made our way down a dirt road and arrived at a gate, with a parking area in front. No signs saying "No Overnight Parking", so we figured we were okay. While we were getting ready to go, another car pulled up and we wound up chatting with the couple inside, being careful not to say much about camping, despite the obvious presence of our backpacks. After a bit, another car came along and the two vehicles left. They went to the gate and someone from the second car got out and unlocked it. The two cars drove through, closed the gate behind them, and disappeared down the road.
Somewhat confused, we finished packing up and followed past the gate. Very shortly, the road opened up to a broad meadow and a very nice, developed campground with maybe a dozen family groups set up at various sites. Broad grassy areas, some sort of brick structure (bathrooms/showers, I assume), picnic tables, the works. We panicked a bit and backed up. We didn't want to go through the area with our backpacks and all, obviously going camping, but we needed to get to the river. We wound up circling around and got to the river south of the campsite a bit. We made our way upstream to a spot near the campsite and looked for a place to cross to the dirt road on the other side. We didn't have our waders on yet, so we tried to use some exposed rocks. A combination of rain, slippery rocks, and backpacks sent us into the river a few times though, so we wound up with wet boots/pants pretty quickly.
Once across, we decided to head upstream, toward the State forest, and soon came to a gate across the road. A couple of guys on mountain bikes were there and asked if we were going in or out. "In," we said, "but we don't really know where." We passed the gate and had gone a few yards when one of the bikers called to us. He told us that if we went up the road a bit, we'd come to a mini-gorge in the river. The river could be crossed at a small island just upstream a bit and on the other side, atop the gorge, are a couple of campsites. They're pretty hidden, so we'd be unlikely to run into anyone else there. A rope swing at the gorge would confirm the location. We thanked him for the info and walked on.
The walk and the area were mighty nice. The walking was very easy - pretty much a level grade - and the woods were very pleasant. Remains of stone walls and some cellar holes, an open wood with little underbrush, occasionally a view of the stream and the hills. After a while, we made our way down to the river and found ourselves just downstream of the mini-gorge, rope swing and all. We were at a flat, shallow, rocky part of the river, but just upstream, rocky walls rose maybe 50 feet from the water in a narrow pass. It looked great. We got back on the road, passed above the gorge and found the island in the stream. Crossing to the island, I spotted a 6-8 inch trout skittering along the rocks and took that to be a good sign. There were fish here! We made the second crossing to the other bank of the river, scrambled up the slope, and found ourselves in a beautiful little campsite atop the gorge wall, overlooking a deep pool in the river. Unfortunately, looking up through the woods, we spotted another tent set up at an adjacent site (which turned out to be even better than ours!). We decided to stay anyway and went up to say hello, but no one was there. We later spotted two guys down at the river, fishing.
After setting up our tents and having some lunch, we assembled our fishing gear and headed back to the river. We were a study in contrasts. I had lightweight chest waders and a graphite pole & reel while Chip had rubber boot waders (thigh-high) and his father's bamboo pole with a small metal reel. I was using rubber scuba boots over my waders for footing - a bad move it turned out. The boots had no soles so I felt every rock I stepped on. Good traction, but my feet were beat by the end of the day. I accessorized my outfit with a multi-pocket fishing vest...Chip added a pipe. Atop us both however was one common item: a well-worn, wide brimmed hat. No matter what our luck would be, we LOOKED like fishermen!
We decided to fish upstream and started with a few practice casts in an area to one side of the mid-river island. Our techniques left a lot to be desired and I almost immediately lost a fly. We continued on though and spent the next four hours working our way upstream. Chip led the way most of the time, the smell of his pipe occasionally drifting downstream to me. We fished almost every type of area: wide rocky flats, narrow spots with boulders and pools, quiet side pools, etc. One spot was a wide silty/muddy flat and we made our way out into the middle. A couple of birds were skimming the water, eating bugs. They looked like swallows (short wings that ended in points) and had blue backs. At one point I looked up and spotted a bright yellow moth fluttering a few feet away from my face. I was just about to say something to Chip when one of the birds flew in and snatched it from the air. Poof! Gone!
The weather was cool and occasionally rainy, but that was okay. At one point, there was a moderately heavy, though brief, shower, and it was somehow very pleasant and relaxing to be standing in the river fishing while the rain fell. In general, the weather and the surroundings met our needs perfectly, enclosing us in a cool gray mist and isolating us from the rest of the world, allowing us to concentrate on our fishing.
We didn't spend the whole time in the river. After a bit, we started using the road to move upstream, picking likely spots in the river to fish. Then back to road for some more walking. The walking was pleasant enough in its own way. We noted a number of side trails coming down to the road - one with a sign indicating gas was available up the trail. Possible entry points for future visits. Eventually, we came to another gate and continued on to one last pool in the river. By this time, it was almost 6PM and the sky looked like it was getting ready for some serious rain, so we headed back. After a whole afternoon alone, we spotted a few other folks. Two guys in a white jeep suiting up for fishing just before the gate (access to the road from the north was from the Chesterfield Gorge reservation), a man and his two kids with a pickup, doing some fishing and playing on the rocks, and just before our campsite, a lone fisherman walking the bank.
Did I mention that we didn't catch any fish this whole time? Not so much as a nibble. We asked everyone we met about their luck and no one had seen any action, though the last lone fisherman mentioned seeing a beaver swimming by. We'd tried a number of different flies and areas, but nothing worked.
Back at the campsite, I immediately noticed that the other tent was gone and went to check. Sure enough, they'd left. We thought of moving our camp, but decided to stay put. Now that the area was all ours, Chip decided to try his luck in the pool in the gorge. He fished while I filled water bottles and then I decided to join him. I'd hesitated because I'd lost quite a few flies during the day and I didn't feel like losing any more. The place looked so nice though that I finally got out my gear. We even noticed a couple of rises but never got a bite. We wound up fishing until 8PM and then stopped for dinner. Quick & simple - linguini with leek soup mix sauce. We ate while watching the beaver swim about in the gorge below and then headed to the tents at 9, to avoid the bugs as much as anything. A light rain fell as we went to sleep.
At 3:30, Nature called and we both went for a bit of a walk. The sky had cleared and a slightly hazy, just-past-full moon cast a good bit of light on the area. Chip went right back to his tent while I took a walk up to the other campsite and sat a bit, taking in the scene before heading back to my own tent.
Despite our best intentions to rise with the dawn and go after the fish when they were most vulnerable, we slept until 7AM, awaking to a beautiful, sunny day. By then, the fish were long past their breakfast time and were taking their morning naps, so we had our own breakfast (oatmeal, coffee, and bagels) and started our fishing at 8. I decided to try something different with my footwear and used my Bean boots instead of the scuba boots. Much better. I also hauled out a daypack and put my vest in there, along with a water bottle I'd wished for the day before. Slowly, I was working out the kinks in my fishing technique.
Our plan for the day was to fish exclusively in the gorge area below our campsite. We were confident that this was where the fish were. I headed down first and got out on to a rock about 20 feet from the shore. Chip soon joined me, taking a spot downstream, and we did our best to get fish. A few rises started and we cast to them...no luck. We changed flies. No luck. We changed spots. No luck. We got a lot of fly casting experience, but no fish. The beaver (Mr. Beaver now) swam about us, passing quite near at times, so we had some company. Chip spotted a large snapping turtle also, and at one point I actually saw a fish. It was swimming away after jumping about 10 feet away from Chip. Chip did get a bit of a nibble at one point, but the day was really just more casting practice.
Around noon, we decided to stop for lunch and headed back to the campsite. I heard some voices and looked down to see two guys hauling a lot of equipment down to the water's edge. SCUBA divers, with a compressor and all! We decided this was probably a sign that it was time for us to go, so we started to break camp. I went down to the water to refill the water bottles and to say hi to the divers. A couple of young, funky guys, one with glasses and a brush cut, the other a skinny guy with long hair and a beard. I warned them about the beaver and the turtle and wished them luck. They started swimming while we were packing up and at one point we heard a commotion below. The skinny bearded guy came up sputtering...he'd run out of air already! Either the compressor or his gauge wasn't working. We stayed long enough to make sure we didn't have to do any rescuing and then headed out.
We started on the east side of the river, following a trail in the woods. It followed the river at first, then turned inland and became much more defined. A dirt bike trail maybe. It would be nice to know where it went, but we needed to be back at the water, so we turned around, made it back to the river just below the gorge, and crossed over to the road. I packed away my waders at that point and we had a pleasant walk back down the road. In a very short time, we were back at the Corps campsite. Reluctant to leave just yet, we continued down stream a bit, meeting a number of bikers and fishermen along the way. The road entered a broad, grassy area and a side path headed to the river. We followed the path and waded out into the water, stopping halfway across to decide what to do. This turned out to be the spot marked "Ford" on the map of the area. The view downstream looked like more of the same, so we just kept on wading across. The road picked up on the other side, skirted the campground, and then rejoined the main road back to the gate and the car.
After a quick change of clothes, we were back on the road. We headed straight back to Northampton for the traditional back-to-civilization stop in town. In this case, it was a trip to the Coffee Connection for iced caffeine (coffee for me, cappuccino for Chip) and munchies. We relaxed in the cafe for awhile, enjoying the benefits of modern society, before finally returning to the highways and heading for home.
A couple of general impressions & thoughts: This place was GREAT! Except for the lack of fish, it was an ideal fishing spot. Chip mentioned a couple of times that, except for the size of the surrounding hills, we could've been on a remote stream in Montana. Absolutely gorgeous and very few people to share it with. That may have been due to the bad weather on Saturday. On a weekend with two days of good weather, there may be more folks. Midweek though, I doubt you'd see anyone. I also wonder what it would be like in the winter. Major snowmobile spot, I imagine, but it might make for a good winter camping destination.
Things like the road, the gates, the Corps campsite really weren't bad at all. Not the total wilderness experience for sure, but close enough, and the ease of access was mighty nice. If there had been a lot of traffic - foot, bike, or otherwise (we did hear some dirt bikes at one point) - I might have another opinion, but again, I really don't think a lot of folks go to this area.
Cool place.
More pictures
About the same time my brother Bill was asking about this river, Chip called me and said he'd been talking with another lawyer who told him of this great trout stream, which turned out to be the East branch, and a specific spot on the river named The Gorge. We started doing some research and found that this area is home to a couple of state forests, some wildlife management areas, a private nature preserve, and a Corps of Engineers flood control project. Maps in hand, I threw Jane and Andy in the car and we went on a scouting trip a few weeks back. Here's what we found: There's a 7-8 mile stretch of the river running between route 143 in Chesterfield and route 66. At the southern end, the Corps of Engineers' Knightville dam provides flood control. Upstream from the dam, the Corps owns all land up to about the 600' elevation on either side of the river. This land is also a Massachusetts Wildlife Management area. All totaled, 2430 acres of land are included in this area.
At the northern end of this area, where the Corps control ends, the East Branch state forest (2000 acres) takes over and continues north to the Trustees of Reservations (a private group) Chesterfield Gorge area, a nature preserve which includes a deep river gorge. The entire stretch of river, from the Gorge to the dam, is a designated catch & release fishing area - artificial lures only - and it's stocked with trout. An old road (River Road), now just a dirt road, runs the entire length, down the west side, providing easy access to any part of the river. A couple of gates keep out motor traffic, but hikers, hunters, fishermen, and mountain bikers are welcome. The river itself is gorgeous. Good and wide, not too deep (with chest waders you can cross almost anywhere), mostly rocky river bed with some silty flats and the occasional pool and even some deep gorges.
Well, I knew I'd found the place, so I went home and started to make plans with Chip. Camping is not really authorized, but we figured we'd have no trouble finding an out-of-the-way spot to put up a couple of tents. The car would be a problem though. Where to leave it where it wouldn't be towed or torched? I kept checking the maps and noticed something marked "Campsite" in the middle of the Corps area. It turns out to be a camping area run by the Corps, open by reservation to "community groups". I got some phone numbers and started calling, figuring if we could get in, we could at least leave the car there and then hike into the woods, but I never got anything more than an answering machine.
We decided to just go anyway and wing it. The hike day arrived and with it, a cool rain. Chip showed up around 8 and we were on our way soon thereafter. The trip out was straightforward: Turnpike to route 91 to route 9 to Northampton. We stopped in town for film and pipe tobacco. I went to the local CVS while Chip looked around. I soon came back with film but no tobacco. After locating Chip (who was quite enamored with the town), we went off in search of smoking material. We walked a bit and stopped to consider which way to go...that's when we noticed we were in front of a smoke shop! We went in, picked up an ounce of the house blend, and soon were on the road again.
Our next task was to find a place to park. Our plan was to start with the Corps campsite and see what it was like. If it didn't look good, we'd either just drive around or ask some farmer for permission to park on their land. As it turned out, the campsite was fine. We made our way down a dirt road and arrived at a gate, with a parking area in front. No signs saying "No Overnight Parking", so we figured we were okay. While we were getting ready to go, another car pulled up and we wound up chatting with the couple inside, being careful not to say much about camping, despite the obvious presence of our backpacks. After a bit, another car came along and the two vehicles left. They went to the gate and someone from the second car got out and unlocked it. The two cars drove through, closed the gate behind them, and disappeared down the road.
Somewhat confused, we finished packing up and followed past the gate. Very shortly, the road opened up to a broad meadow and a very nice, developed campground with maybe a dozen family groups set up at various sites. Broad grassy areas, some sort of brick structure (bathrooms/showers, I assume), picnic tables, the works. We panicked a bit and backed up. We didn't want to go through the area with our backpacks and all, obviously going camping, but we needed to get to the river. We wound up circling around and got to the river south of the campsite a bit. We made our way upstream to a spot near the campsite and looked for a place to cross to the dirt road on the other side. We didn't have our waders on yet, so we tried to use some exposed rocks. A combination of rain, slippery rocks, and backpacks sent us into the river a few times though, so we wound up with wet boots/pants pretty quickly.
Once across, we decided to head upstream, toward the State forest, and soon came to a gate across the road. A couple of guys on mountain bikes were there and asked if we were going in or out. "In," we said, "but we don't really know where." We passed the gate and had gone a few yards when one of the bikers called to us. He told us that if we went up the road a bit, we'd come to a mini-gorge in the river. The river could be crossed at a small island just upstream a bit and on the other side, atop the gorge, are a couple of campsites. They're pretty hidden, so we'd be unlikely to run into anyone else there. A rope swing at the gorge would confirm the location. We thanked him for the info and walked on.
The walk and the area were mighty nice. The walking was very easy - pretty much a level grade - and the woods were very pleasant. Remains of stone walls and some cellar holes, an open wood with little underbrush, occasionally a view of the stream and the hills. After a while, we made our way down to the river and found ourselves just downstream of the mini-gorge, rope swing and all. We were at a flat, shallow, rocky part of the river, but just upstream, rocky walls rose maybe 50 feet from the water in a narrow pass. It looked great. We got back on the road, passed above the gorge and found the island in the stream. Crossing to the island, I spotted a 6-8 inch trout skittering along the rocks and took that to be a good sign. There were fish here! We made the second crossing to the other bank of the river, scrambled up the slope, and found ourselves in a beautiful little campsite atop the gorge wall, overlooking a deep pool in the river. Unfortunately, looking up through the woods, we spotted another tent set up at an adjacent site (which turned out to be even better than ours!). We decided to stay anyway and went up to say hello, but no one was there. We later spotted two guys down at the river, fishing.
After setting up our tents and having some lunch, we assembled our fishing gear and headed back to the river. We were a study in contrasts. I had lightweight chest waders and a graphite pole & reel while Chip had rubber boot waders (thigh-high) and his father's bamboo pole with a small metal reel. I was using rubber scuba boots over my waders for footing - a bad move it turned out. The boots had no soles so I felt every rock I stepped on. Good traction, but my feet were beat by the end of the day. I accessorized my outfit with a multi-pocket fishing vest...Chip added a pipe. Atop us both however was one common item: a well-worn, wide brimmed hat. No matter what our luck would be, we LOOKED like fishermen!
We decided to fish upstream and started with a few practice casts in an area to one side of the mid-river island. Our techniques left a lot to be desired and I almost immediately lost a fly. We continued on though and spent the next four hours working our way upstream. Chip led the way most of the time, the smell of his pipe occasionally drifting downstream to me. We fished almost every type of area: wide rocky flats, narrow spots with boulders and pools, quiet side pools, etc. One spot was a wide silty/muddy flat and we made our way out into the middle. A couple of birds were skimming the water, eating bugs. They looked like swallows (short wings that ended in points) and had blue backs. At one point I looked up and spotted a bright yellow moth fluttering a few feet away from my face. I was just about to say something to Chip when one of the birds flew in and snatched it from the air. Poof! Gone!
The weather was cool and occasionally rainy, but that was okay. At one point, there was a moderately heavy, though brief, shower, and it was somehow very pleasant and relaxing to be standing in the river fishing while the rain fell. In general, the weather and the surroundings met our needs perfectly, enclosing us in a cool gray mist and isolating us from the rest of the world, allowing us to concentrate on our fishing.
We didn't spend the whole time in the river. After a bit, we started using the road to move upstream, picking likely spots in the river to fish. Then back to road for some more walking. The walking was pleasant enough in its own way. We noted a number of side trails coming down to the road - one with a sign indicating gas was available up the trail. Possible entry points for future visits. Eventually, we came to another gate and continued on to one last pool in the river. By this time, it was almost 6PM and the sky looked like it was getting ready for some serious rain, so we headed back. After a whole afternoon alone, we spotted a few other folks. Two guys in a white jeep suiting up for fishing just before the gate (access to the road from the north was from the Chesterfield Gorge reservation), a man and his two kids with a pickup, doing some fishing and playing on the rocks, and just before our campsite, a lone fisherman walking the bank.
Did I mention that we didn't catch any fish this whole time? Not so much as a nibble. We asked everyone we met about their luck and no one had seen any action, though the last lone fisherman mentioned seeing a beaver swimming by. We'd tried a number of different flies and areas, but nothing worked.
Back at the campsite, I immediately noticed that the other tent was gone and went to check. Sure enough, they'd left. We thought of moving our camp, but decided to stay put. Now that the area was all ours, Chip decided to try his luck in the pool in the gorge. He fished while I filled water bottles and then I decided to join him. I'd hesitated because I'd lost quite a few flies during the day and I didn't feel like losing any more. The place looked so nice though that I finally got out my gear. We even noticed a couple of rises but never got a bite. We wound up fishing until 8PM and then stopped for dinner. Quick & simple - linguini with leek soup mix sauce. We ate while watching the beaver swim about in the gorge below and then headed to the tents at 9, to avoid the bugs as much as anything. A light rain fell as we went to sleep.
At 3:30, Nature called and we both went for a bit of a walk. The sky had cleared and a slightly hazy, just-past-full moon cast a good bit of light on the area. Chip went right back to his tent while I took a walk up to the other campsite and sat a bit, taking in the scene before heading back to my own tent.
Despite our best intentions to rise with the dawn and go after the fish when they were most vulnerable, we slept until 7AM, awaking to a beautiful, sunny day. By then, the fish were long past their breakfast time and were taking their morning naps, so we had our own breakfast (oatmeal, coffee, and bagels) and started our fishing at 8. I decided to try something different with my footwear and used my Bean boots instead of the scuba boots. Much better. I also hauled out a daypack and put my vest in there, along with a water bottle I'd wished for the day before. Slowly, I was working out the kinks in my fishing technique.
Our plan for the day was to fish exclusively in the gorge area below our campsite. We were confident that this was where the fish were. I headed down first and got out on to a rock about 20 feet from the shore. Chip soon joined me, taking a spot downstream, and we did our best to get fish. A few rises started and we cast to them...no luck. We changed flies. No luck. We changed spots. No luck. We got a lot of fly casting experience, but no fish. The beaver (Mr. Beaver now) swam about us, passing quite near at times, so we had some company. Chip spotted a large snapping turtle also, and at one point I actually saw a fish. It was swimming away after jumping about 10 feet away from Chip. Chip did get a bit of a nibble at one point, but the day was really just more casting practice.
Around noon, we decided to stop for lunch and headed back to the campsite. I heard some voices and looked down to see two guys hauling a lot of equipment down to the water's edge. SCUBA divers, with a compressor and all! We decided this was probably a sign that it was time for us to go, so we started to break camp. I went down to the water to refill the water bottles and to say hi to the divers. A couple of young, funky guys, one with glasses and a brush cut, the other a skinny guy with long hair and a beard. I warned them about the beaver and the turtle and wished them luck. They started swimming while we were packing up and at one point we heard a commotion below. The skinny bearded guy came up sputtering...he'd run out of air already! Either the compressor or his gauge wasn't working. We stayed long enough to make sure we didn't have to do any rescuing and then headed out.
We started on the east side of the river, following a trail in the woods. It followed the river at first, then turned inland and became much more defined. A dirt bike trail maybe. It would be nice to know where it went, but we needed to be back at the water, so we turned around, made it back to the river just below the gorge, and crossed over to the road. I packed away my waders at that point and we had a pleasant walk back down the road. In a very short time, we were back at the Corps campsite. Reluctant to leave just yet, we continued down stream a bit, meeting a number of bikers and fishermen along the way. The road entered a broad, grassy area and a side path headed to the river. We followed the path and waded out into the water, stopping halfway across to decide what to do. This turned out to be the spot marked "Ford" on the map of the area. The view downstream looked like more of the same, so we just kept on wading across. The road picked up on the other side, skirted the campground, and then rejoined the main road back to the gate and the car.
After a quick change of clothes, we were back on the road. We headed straight back to Northampton for the traditional back-to-civilization stop in town. In this case, it was a trip to the Coffee Connection for iced caffeine (coffee for me, cappuccino for Chip) and munchies. We relaxed in the cafe for awhile, enjoying the benefits of modern society, before finally returning to the highways and heading for home.
A couple of general impressions & thoughts: This place was GREAT! Except for the lack of fish, it was an ideal fishing spot. Chip mentioned a couple of times that, except for the size of the surrounding hills, we could've been on a remote stream in Montana. Absolutely gorgeous and very few people to share it with. That may have been due to the bad weather on Saturday. On a weekend with two days of good weather, there may be more folks. Midweek though, I doubt you'd see anyone. I also wonder what it would be like in the winter. Major snowmobile spot, I imagine, but it might make for a good winter camping destination.
Things like the road, the gates, the Corps campsite really weren't bad at all. Not the total wilderness experience for sure, but close enough, and the ease of access was mighty nice. If there had been a lot of traffic - foot, bike, or otherwise (we did hear some dirt bikes at one point) - I might have another opinion, but again, I really don't think a lot of folks go to this area.
Cool place.
More pictures
