TR: Blackfoot Reservoir, ID 5/30-31/09

In an earlier topic I sought out info on Blackfoot Reservoir in southeastern Idaho, but even receiving no response I decided to go for it anyway. After all, on paper it seemed to have everything I was looking for: a well-coved shoreline and islands to explore, big size (12,000 acres), a reasonable distance for a weekend (3 hours from Salt Lake City), and land upon which to camp on our own (the BLM manages the lands for the Bureau of Indian Affairs). I managed to talk friends Dale, Pat and Todd into coming along.

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I'm the only one who owns a touring boat (a Necky Looksha), so the others had to rent. Todd picked up a Perception Eclipse at REI, while Dale and Pat got a tandem Perception Carolina II from the University of Utah. The plan was to meet at my house and leave at 4 p.m. to ensure sufficient daylight to reach a planned camp on Willow Island (again, it looked good on paper), but Dale got stuck conducting business and wouldn't get there until around 5:00 or so. That was too late for me, so Todd and I headed up on our own to meet them later.

The drive took every bit of three hours, especially with Friday rush-hour traffic between Salt Lake and Ogden. We arrived at our put-in at Hopkins Landing just before the sun dipped behind Reservoir Mountain on the west side of the lake. Much to my liking the lake was positively deserted, although shortly after our arrival two guys showed up to pitch a frontier tent (think canvas and logs for tent poles) at the landing. We loaded the boats, parked the truck and paddled out onto the water just as a giant carp jumped from the reeds in front of my boat.

A map of our weekend's GPS track attached below as image file 00a blackfoot kayak gps track 090530-31.jpg will help to orient the reader if you want to follow along.

It was just over a mile of paddling to reach Willow Island. Not only was the vegetation unappealing, but the tiny island was covered with hundreds and hundreds of nesting pelicans. OK, time for Plan B: Long Island, which wasn't much better, ringed by 20-foot lava rock cliffs around its entire waterline. OK, Plan C: Sheep Island, upon which we found the perfect campsite. We had just barely unloaded the boats when the headlights from Dale and Pat's truck appeared through the potato field above Hopkins Landing.

Realizing that there's no way they would find us in the dark we quickly got back in our boats and paddled back to Hopkins Landing as darkness fell. We paddled back across the broad expanse of lake to return to our Sheep Island camp in total darkness, accompanied by a muskrat swimming beside the boat as we left Hopkins Landing. The water was far warmer than expected, especially with some patches of snow remaining a mere 50 feet above lake level. The roar of thousands of nesting birds covering every inch of Gull Island and the occasional honk of Canada geese flying overhead were the only breaks to the solitude. We pitched tents, sat around a campfire for a while and went to bed somewhere around midnight.

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After a breakfast of oatmeal and coffee we set out to explore. As perfect as our campsite was I didn't have high hopes for an interesting paddle. The lake was somewhat more barren than I'd expected, although I remained pleased by only a tiny handful of boats on the expansive lake, all quietly trolling for trout and none pulling a skier. No jet skis, either.

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(See image file 03 blackfoot kayak todd 090530.jpg below)

Boy, was I happy to be wrong! I'd soon learn as we paddled through the marshlands separating the Chain Islands that this beautiful reservoir is a virtual treasure trove of wildlife. First we were startled by thousands...and I mean thousands...of giant 15-25 lb. carp spawning in the shallows amongst the reeds.

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Virtually every imaginable wetland bird made its presence known: pelicans,

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seagulls, great blue herons, cormorants, Canada geese, mallards, and other ducks that I can't identify.

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Emerging from the Chain Islands, though, Todd didn't feel like paddling anymore so he headed back to camp as Dale, Pat and I pressed on. We ran along the east side of Long Island (where that photo of the heron and cormorant, above, was taken) and then headed across to the west side of Willow Island where both the land and the water were covered by hundreds and hundreds of big pelicans.

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As we paddled the pelicans in the water swam ahead of us, occasionally taking flight each time we got too close for their comfort.

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Still up for more exploration, we continued south to the east side of Cinder Island, where we stopped for lunch.

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I broke out my stove and prepared some pad thai, washed down with beef jerky and Swedish fish. Dale and Pat brought sandwiches.

Leaving lunch, we marveled at the mud swallow nests built right into the side of the cliffs above the water at the southeast corner of Cinder Island.

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Dale and Pat wanted to return to Hopkins Landing to retrieve some items from their truck, but as we rounded the south side of Cinder Island we caught our first glimpse of a thunderstorm approaching from our west. The water suddenly turned to glass in the proverbial "calm before the storm" as lightning bolts reached down from the cloud that inched closer and closer.

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We passed three men bow-fishing for carp in the reeds on the west shore before reaching the boat launch. By now the wind began to kick up from the west, and despite the lightning and thunder we decided to make a run for Sheep Island, taking advantage of the wind coming off our port stern. Midway across the passage, however, the giant rain drops began to splash the water.

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We were fortunate, though, that it never really rained in earnest and the storm seemed to split around us, with one dark cell passing to our north and another to our south. We arrived in camp to find Todd napping in his tent. We unloaded our boats and cracked open a cold beer before I decided to hike the 150 vertical-foot hill marking the highest point on Sheep Island. The views were wonderful!

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While we never really got rained on in any significant way, the wind really kicked up right as we placed our steaks and new red potatoes on our makeshift charcoal grill. We stacked rocks around the grill to keep the heat in, and when it came time to eat we carried our meals and wine 50 feet around to the other side of the small peninsula upon which we were camped to sit in relative stillness along the water's edge.

I was awakened at 6:15 Sunday morning by the sound of raindrops upon my tent roof. Recalling that my foul weather gear was on the ground outside I got up, but the raindrops stopped as quickly as they had started. I made some hot coffee, filtered some more potable water from the lake and tidied up the camp while the others slept until 8:00. By 9:30 a.m. we had broken camp and we were back on the water.

We decided to circumnavigate the rest of Sheep Island in a counter-clockwise direction, finding more of the same wildlife amongst the reeds. I think that we only saw two boats on the water all day. Todd waited off the west shore of Gull Island while Dale, Pat and I rounded its northern tip to paddle 25 feet off the east shore, marveling at how every inch of the island was covered with every species of shore bird imaginable.

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We rejoined at the southern end of the island and paddled back to Hopkins Landing, arriving at 11:00 a.m. to pack up and head home.

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An absolutely wonderful weekend in nature!