Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • On a trip back to BC in 2008, I decided to go fishing one afternoon.

    I had always wanted to fish Oyama Lake, but had never been able to access it. It sits atop a mountain with a treacherous logging road leading to it's summit and marina. My rental car had 4 wheel drive and I'd sign the damage waiver, so I decided to make a go of it-- and boy was it worth it.

    I made my way 20 miles up the road through the Douglas fir and aspen trees lit up with their fiery fall colors. The boat I picked was a 25 horse power vhull which showed it's age from the many voyages that came before this day.

    After dropping the gear into the boat and firing up the engine, I took off for the furthest part of the lake. Looking off to the left I spotted an alcove with submerged trees. I was miles from the marina and there were no other boats or people in sight. The water was crystal clear with visibility to 20 or 30 feet. I tied up my fly pole and began big sweeping casts over the water. Within minutes I had a fish on the line, followed by two more over an hour or two. Late in the afternoon, while looking across the cove I saw big splash on the surface of the water and decided it would be advantages to move closer and drop and anchor. I must have pulled the starter cord 20 times, but couldn't get the engine fired up. Thinking I had flooded it, I decided to use the single oar in the boat and paddle across. I did this and within 30 minutes was fishing once again. I pulled in two good size fish and realizing my 4 hour rental was about to expire, decided to head back to the marina.

    Once again I pulled the engine cord and thankfully it fired right up. So with throttle at it's max, I took off back across the lake. It wasn't 15 seconds later than the engine conked out. I tried restarting it for what seemed like an eternity, but no luck. I look at the gas tanked and promptly realized that I was out of gas-- the rental attendant had forgotten to fill it before I left.

    Running out of options and daylight, I decided to take the oar and start making my way a few miles back to the marina. Only 10 minutes in and with my arms struggling to keep up, I realized the irony in my situation. Sometimes you can put everything into life, go full speed ahead in the right directions, and succeed wildly. And then, when you've had your fill and want to move onto something new, you can struggle like you've never struggled before-- that's just life. Anyhow, long story short, I paddled for a good hour at which point I was able to flag down a couple fishing near by who thankfully towed me back to shore. I exchanged words with the rental guy, he filled up the boat with gas, and I headed back out on the lake for an hour or two--fishing well after sundown.

    Perhaps one of the more memorable experiences I've had while fishing.
    • Share

    Connected stories:

About

Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.