The Frog Who Croaked

The Frog Who Croaked (click image for detail)

The Frog Who Croaked

In Eastern Washington there is a small lake that, up until a few years ago, held some of the most beautiful brook trout that ever graced a body of water. Antilon Lake lies at 2,327 feet altitude and is located about 10.5 miles northwest above the town of Chelan. It was originally a natural lake, but in 1913 they built a dam and again in 1928 which inundated the old dam and created this 96 acre reservoir that has a maximum depth of 57 feet. The brookies were huge! Average size was 15” to 20” and full of fight. The campground was small, but comfortable with easy access at the north end of the lake. There are even memorable sani-cans that I personally have record of from my dear friend, who unbeknown to me, borrowed my 35mm camera and took 36 frames looking down one of the holes. He always had that twisted sense of humor…

And through the campground runs this very small inlet stream that appears to come from nowhere. "A River Runs Through It".

This stream flows out of a cave, we discovered, at the base of a mountain where you drive in to reach the campground. Spooky! The water coming out is only about ankle deep, but we stood there at the entrance and tried to illuminate the interior with only our small flashlights. The only thing we saw was more blackness. Looking at each other, we decided the brook trout could wait a few minutes while we explored this fascinating cave entrance. I needed to walk back to camp and turn the marinating pickled herring, so I asked them to wait a few minutes for me. Sure. Right. You bet.

When I returned from my herring duty, they had already started into the cave and I could see their lights about 100 feet or so in the cave sweeping the sides and the roof. Not having my own flashlight in hand, I decided to wait for them to return, as the cave was probably very short in length and I would have a turn. As I sat there and watched their lights grow smaller and smaller and their voices disappear, I began to wonder how far did this cave go? After a few minutes their lights completely disappeared. Blackness. Wow! I called out their names in the entrance but no answer. It must have been over an hour I sat there when to my complete surprise they appeared above me walking down this dirt road from the other side of the mountain. And that’s exactly where they came out…on the other side of this mountain.

The cave length went completely through the mountain where they followed the inlet stream full length. And there was also the cave monster! If you have ever been in a dark, damp cave where all you could see was just right in front of you, then you’ll appreciate the effect a 4 lb. bull frog has on your nerves sitting on a ledge shoulder height. When he croaked, they left a mess in the cave. One of my friends was soaking wet, partially from the experience and partially from falling in the stream after the frog announced its presence. Just happened to be the same friend who used my camera so eloquently. There is justice!

As we sat around the campfire that evening I listened to their harrowing journey through the lens of a single malt glass, envisioning monster frogs hiding behind every tree. And I am thankful this day to pickled herring.

Ya sur ya’betcha.