Outdoors Stories
Perfect camping trip starts off the summer season
By Cara Eastwood
outdoors@wyomingnews.com
Published in the Wyoming Tribune-Eagle
CHEYENNE - I was standing thigh deep in a beaver pond, casting my dry fly as delicately as I could for the zillionth time when it happened: A small rainbow trout leapt from the water, swallowed the fly and headed for the depths of the pond. I was so surprised I almost dropped my rod. I go fishing a lot, but I don't catch many fish. So when it actually happens, I'm stunned. But I played the fish without losing it, enjoying the subtle - and unfamiliar - tug on the other end of my line. I reeled the tiny thing in, wet my hand before touching it and gently dislodged the hook from its mouth. I grinned as it darted back into deep water. This moment is only one of the many memories I'll savor of my first camping trip of summer 2006. Over Memorial Day weekend, a group of friends and I camped at Pelton Creek, a campground tucked into the south end of the Medicine Bow National Forest not far from Woods Landing. We found it in Marc Smith's guidebook, The Wyoming Camping Guide, but I'm told the site is well known among locals looking to escape the crowds in more popular areas. Even on such a busy weekend, the campground was empty when we pulled in on Friday afternoon. As we looped through the campground looking for a spot, I could hear water flowing from East Walbright Creek into a network of beautiful beaver ponds and watched open-mouthed as a moose lazily wandered through the water. We had seen another moose on the main road coming toward Woods Landing, and my friends saw a bobcat. Over the course of the weekend we also saw mule deer, marmot and a variety of raptors. A beaver even swam within spitting distance of me when I was fishing. The campground is nestled up against the edge of the Platte River Wilderness, and the volume of wildlife there shows that the protected area where there is no motorized traffic is doing its job: giving a diverse population of wildlife room to live and grow. We set up camp on Friday evening, cooked steak and sweet potatoes and generally reveled in the perfect evening weather that was cool but not cold. Since there wasn't a fire ban, we built small, hot fires to cook on and then sat around them talking late into the night. I think we compensated for being in the woods by consuming too much food -I'm sure I ate about a dozen smores over the course of the weekend. But we did get in a good hike on Saturday afternoon from the trailhead at the end of the campground that leads into the wilderness area. The gently climbing Platte Ridge trail wound up and along the edge of the forest and past beaver ponds with significantly less moving water than those near the campground. My dog, Ginger, emerged from one of those with a trail of algae hanging from her nose and a deeply offensive, rotten odor that didn't completely fade until a warm bath at home. She didn't seem to mind, though. She shook the mucky stuff all over me and then ran off with a rapidly wagging tail. We turned back to the campground after an hour or so when we entered deep forest. I noticed a large pile of mountain lion scat in the center of the trail - that just seemed to be a good stopping point. My boyfriend, Ryan, and I spent evenings in the magical beaver ponds, slogging through willows and trying not to topple over in the sometimes-sticky footing. We separated to fish in different locations, and Ginger would frolic in between us, excavating spots that smelled interesting to her and leaping happily into the water in between islands of firm ground. I've never known a dog to love water so much. Even after many hours in the ponds, Ryan had about the same luck as me: He caught a handful of small fish, but nothing big enough to keep. But just getting an occasional bite was enough motivation to work the ponds from every angle, trying different flies and every possible presentation. My biggest concern was staying out of the way of the moose, which would've been invisible in the thick willows until I came face to face with it. Thankfully that never happened. After Friday evening, we didn't see the moose again. Perhaps it heard the chatter of people, the barking of dogs and the smell of campfires and decided to hightail it deeper into the forest for some peace and quiet. It was a weekend of perfect weather, stunning scenery, the companionship of good friends and enough time to enjoy it. What a perfect way to kick off the summer. Cara Eastwood is Outdoors editor at the Wyoming Tribune-Eagle. She can be reached at 633-3186, by mail at 702 W. Lincolnway, Cheyenne, WY 82001, or by e-mail at outdoors@wyoming news.com.
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Saturday, June 10, 2006 
