April Fools

By: David Howlett

“It doesn’t look good.” I scoffed at Mark as we crested the final hill on our way to Harrison Lake. Despite our initial enthusiasm during the hour and a half drive to the lake, darkening skies and wind picking up from the south had our high hopes of a fun kayak fishing adventure quickly fading. Now with a majority of the lake in full view before us, our stomaches sank as we could clearly see whitecaps from a fair distance away. Thinking back, maybe we should have turned back then.

“Goes to figure for fishing in April!” Mark replied as he drove his truck down the bumpy and dusty dirt road. “Let’s get down to the boat launch and make our decision then” he added. I should point out now that neither Mark or I are known for giving up easily on an adventure, so I hastily agreed and a few minutes later we were shoreside. Mark backed the truck with our pair of Predator MX kayaks proudly strapped to it’s topper down the boat ramp to the waters edge.

We got out and investigated the angry reservoir. I remarked, “The wind is pushing the waves away from us towards the canyon, so we’ll have to paddle back against them when we want to leave.” Mark countered my observation by pointing out that conditions were improving. I looked around and indeed they were – the sun was beginning to shine, the water looked far less angry, the dark skies had lightened several shades and the wind seemed to be diminishing. That was all it took… so throwing caution to the wind we unstrapped the Predators, loaded them with fishing gear, dragged them down the muddy beach and departed from shore.

Once in the kayaks it was clear that the wind hadn’t actually slowed much at all, and with it pushing at our backs we made incredible time across the lake. Despite the strong wind, both Mark and I caught a few fish trout while trolling across the lake. Even though we were battling swells and whitecaps, the incredibly stable hull of our Predators cut through the waves and never gave us even the slightest worry. Before long we were leaving the main lake behind and paddling our way into the canyon.

The canyon was considerably calmer than the rest of the lake. It shielded us from the wind, the waves settled down and the early spring sun warmed our skin as we paddled. We each had a fly rod trolling big oversized streamers on one side of our kayaks, and spinning rod setups in the opposite pole holders. We have found this method to be highly successful – allowing us to troll for trout while paddling to our favorite fly fishing spots. Then we simply stand up in our Predators allowing us to confidently fly cast to structure or rising fish.

Utilizing the afore mentioned strategy we landed several rainbows and a couple nice brown trout each, and were having so much fun that we neglected to notice the dark storm now surrounding us. Rain began as a light drizzle which didn’t even faze us, and we fished onward. Then suddenly the sky lit up with a dazzling lightening bolt which was followed by a deafening crack of thunder that I swear split the heavens wide open. Heavy rain immediately poured down with a ferocity that I’ve only experienced a few other times in my life – the kind of rain that seemed like it was being tossed out of a thousand buckets in the sky. There was no escaping it… we were completely drenched and the canyon provided little protection.

The wind started howling furiously, turning raindrops into stinging torrents of painful torture. We paddled furiously against the storm back towards the main body of the lake, but paddling against the wind and waves made it slow going. The storm then decided it wasn’t quite finished with us yet adding in marble sized hail that rocketed down from the heavens pelting us and pummeling the lake into a frothy and furious cocktail. In just minutes several inches of hail collected in our kayaks and turned into icy slush as it mixed with water from the white capped waves crashing over the decks of our kayaks. As we battled the storm, it seriously was all the scupper holes could do to keep up. 

The lightening, thunder, wind, rain and hail crated a symphony which was was absolutely deafening. Yet over all the commotion I could faintly hear a strange noise… it was the undeniable sound of laughter. I looked over at Mark who had entirely given up on paddling and was laughing hysterically. Realizing the futility of our situation I also strangely burst into a fit of laughter. I felt crazy… invigorated… insane… but above all I couldn’t help feeling undeniably alive.

Then as if the storm had finally satisfied itself by turning us into laughing idiots, the lightening and thunder stopped, the downpour began to subside, the commotion quieted, the wind became nearly unnoticeable and the swells and whitecaps all but disappeared. Mark and I collected ourselves and cast our rods back out into the lake. Cold and shivering we paddled back towards the boat ramp fishing the entire way. We only caught a few fish on the way back, but our foolishness was ultimately rewarded with an intensely colorful rainbow that arched beautifully over the entire lake.

We safely reached the boat ramp just as the sun was fading into a classic Montana sunset, and we had to have another laugh at ourselves while we put gear away and loaded up the kayaks. We blasted the heater on high the whole trip back to town, and I remember it taking the entire trip for us to finally thaw out. Looking back it made for an unforgettable trip and a true adventure for a couple of April fools!