Our best efforts to get an early start on Saturday morning were, predictably, foiled.  By the time we met at Tom’s house in San Mateo, consolidated our equipment into two cars, made the necessary Starbucks stop, and drove down to the Hunting Hollow entrance, it was just about 10 am.  We dropped Tom and Lars and all our bags at the Coyote Creek trailhead two miles down the road, then drove the cars back to Hunting Hollow and walked to Coyote Creek, setting off on our hike just after 10:30 am.

After 1/10th of a mile on Coit Road, we turned right onto Grizzly Gulch Trail, and soon began a brutal climb up the ridge—Grizzly sure is a Gulch!  Eventually we reached a crest on the ridge, caught our breath, and enjoyed a mile along a fairly flat trail.  Just as we were getting comfortable again, we intersected with Dexter Trail and turned left up another breath-taking climb.  The views were beautiful as we climbed to the top of Wasno Ridge, but conversation ceased for obvious reasons.  It was now well past noon and the day was becoming quite warm—we had all packed at least a couple of liters of water, but were mostly out by the time we reached Wasno Road.

After a brief jaunt along Wasno road, we hit Kelly Lake Trail and turned down towards our destination.  We were pleased for the shade and to be heading downhill for a change, but our joy was tempered as we reflected that this steep decline would need to be reversed in the morning.

We reached Kelly Lake about 1:30, about a three hour journey.  We were pleased to find nobody else at the lake; we had passed a handful of mountain bikers along the way, but no sign of anyone else who might be overnighting nearby.  We dumped our packs and immediately set about filtering some water from the lake for our parched throats.  To familiarize ourselves with the lake we took a hike on an overgrown trail that circumnavigates the lake.   This proved more challenging than expected, and confirmed that there were no "secret spots" along the shore any more desirable than the obvious sites we first saw.  We did, however, stumble upon a giant flock of quail in the tall grasses along the edges of the lake.

Once we returned to our bags we cooked a hot lunch of back-country falafels and other snacks, moved our bags to the prime campsite on the western end of the lake, and set up our fishing gear.  Our initial casts from the shore proved unsuccessful; the weeds along the shore made casting tough and it was not clear there were any fish that close in during the middle of the day.  Fortunately however, Tom, who is as strong as a team of oxen, had lugged an inflatable boat in his backpack and set about huffing and puffing to fill it up.  Once full, it could fit two of us and could be maneuvered to all parts of the lake.  Brian, the only experienced fisherman in the group, somehow sensed where the fish were and set up some jig lures to coax them out of the water.  After a little trial and error, we eventually found the fish, and by the end were pretty much plucking them out of the water at will.  We finished with four fish—two crappies, about ten inches each, a nice-sized bass, perhaps a foot long, and a smaller bass, maybe eight inches or so.  The fishing compared well to my experience at Pacheco Falls, which was filled with crappies in the six- to eight-inch range, but I am not sure we would have caught anything without the boat.  On top of that, it was pretty darn beautiful to be floating around in the middle of the lake with the gorgeous scenery on all sides.

As the sun set behind the hills, our hunger beckoned and we feasted on pan-fried fish.  We had two camp stoves going and everyone was sated.  By the time we had cleaned up, night had fallen.  It was a moonless night, and the sky was full of stars.  Not surprisingly, it was also cold and getting colder.  We spent the rest of the evening lying on the ground watching shooting stars and layering on more clothes to try to stay warm.  A biker we had passed told us of one evening he had spent at Kelly Lake where it had gotten down to 27 degrees and ice formed on his tent.  Thankfully things did not get that bad!

The next morning was pretty uneventful—some coffee and oatmeal and frittatas and off we went.  We unimaginatively retraced our steps to get back to Hunting Hollow.  As expected, the climb from the lake back up to Wasno Ridge was as painful as it had looked on the way down.  The rest of the way was smooth sailing downhill, mostly spent marveling at how we had ever made it when heading in the opposite direction.  We felt we had earned our self-designated comparison to the Navy SEALs!

We dropped our bags at Coyote Creek and all walked back to the parking lot to get our cars.  A quick scan of Brian's in-car computer for the best nearby cheeseburger directed us to the Black Bear Diner in Gilroy, where we had an epic feast (special kudos to Lars for his bear claw, cheeseburger and Cobb salad—the waitress had never seen anything like it).  All through lunch and the drive home we marveled at the amazing glory and solitude of Henry Coe.  We had picked a perfect weekend and set off for the closest lake and had it all to ourselves—we may as well have had the entire park to ourselves.  All in all, a wonderful weekend spent with special people in a magical place.  We all cannot wait for our next trip!!