GSF Articles

Sabrina Basin

By Andrew Dickinson

I love backpacking in the Eastern Sierras. There’s something wild, adventurous, and exhilarating about striking out on a trail with everything you need strapped to your back. When I’m in the high country, one of my necessities, besides the obvious food needed for a growing boy, is my fly rod and fishing outfit. Each year my dad and I try to plan at least one backpacking trip. It seems we can’t go a year without sharing a tent together. After a few days of backpacking and no showers, tent sharing becomes a truly unforgettable experience! But every year we plan another trip - this year with another father/son team who had joined us on previous backpacking trips. For this trip, we set our sights on the Lake Sabrina Basin, a destination well suited to our pursuit of wild trout.


The basin above Lake Sabrina has about 8 lakes within day hiking distance of each other. Our plan was to hike in as far as we could, make a base camp and spend a few days fishing as many lakes as possible.


On Thursday we woke up at 5 am, loaded up our packs and headed up the 395 to Bishop. After a much anticipated lunch at Schaat’s Bakery, we turned west on Line St. to wind our way up to Lake Sabrina. The orange, yellow, and green aspens were stunning as we drove along Bishop Creek. We hit the trail and hiked 5 miles in to Dingleberry Lake. Several times during the hike, we stopped to look eastward. With a sweeping gaze, we could see Sabrina below and the Owen’s Valley and White Mountains in the distance; truly a breath taking sight!


Our campsite at Dingleberry Lake was comfortably situated in pine trees next to a small stream teeming with Brook Trout. There were so many trout in some slow sections of the stream; it looked like Alaskan salmon spawning grounds. The Brooks were very eager for a dry fly and didn’t care about presentation. The sight of a big bug on the water seemed to addle any sense of caution in the fish.


After a restful evening of fishing, freeze dried food, and card playing, we settled in for a well deserved sleep. The stream rushing down to Dingleberry Lake was the last sound I heard before drifting off. The next day, after a meal of oatmeal and raisins, we headed up the trail to Midnight Lake. The lake is about 11,000 ft, nestled in a crater-like depression. When we crested the last ridge and got a view of the lake. My fishing eye was immediately drawn to the steep cliffs on the far side. “Perfect spot to cast a bushy Caddis or Griffith’s Gnat”, I thought. After spending an hour casting in high Sierra wind to non-conforming fish, I concluded it was time to move on to somewhere else. With eight lakes to choose from, there was no shortage of options.


Our party struck out for Hungry Packer Lake, a strangely named lake that may have earned its moniker from an ill fated trip. We hoped to find some hungry fish instead. The hike up was beautiful! It was easy to see we were treading a path made by an ancient glacier that left chaotic rock structures and clefts in its wake. Hungry Packer Lake was situated much like Midnight Lake, but with sheerer peaks and more snow surrounding it. The outlet had several deep sections, forming little ponds that held many fish. We had our best success in the ponds using size 18 Elk Hair Caddis, Yellow Humpies, and Stimulators. The Brook trout were amazingly brilliant, with distinctive orange bellies, mottled backs, and white tipped pectoral fins. On the way back to camp, we fished a few more lakes, each one yielding a few fish on the surface, mostly Brookies with one parmarked Rainbow thrown in for variety.


That night, at the team pow-wow, we decided to pack up in the morning and head down the trail to Blue Lake and check out the lower elevation fishing. After a semi-restful sleep we hiked to Blue Lake, about 1 mile and a 900 ft. change in elevation down the trail. We found a great campsite in a natural rock cove. Next to the camp was a great big stone table, perfect for star gazing, cooking, and any other household activity. It was also a great vantage point to watch for surface action. From the rock, I could see most of Blue Lake. Although its shoreline was mostly shallow, there were a few shelves that dropped off about 10 to 30 ft. from shore. Perfect dry fly water!
We spent the afternoon skating Caddis patterns on the surface or stripping them subsurface.

After catching more fish than it was worth counting, we returned to camp for a much anticipated dinner. We had saved the best food for the last night, Alfredo Pasta with dry salami and freeze dried ice cream for desert. It’s amazing what you will eat when you’re hungry! Instead of a movie after dinner, we lay out on the stone table and looked at the stars. I realized what an ant must feel like everyday as I stared up at that limitless, domed ceiling. It’s good for me to have those moments when I get a perspective of how small and insignificant I am in the big picture. All I have left to look at are the big things worth living for. Funny how a fishing trip can quickly change into a life reflection trip. A little reflection and exposure to truth can help us identify the misconceptions we may unconsciously be living. I thought about these things as I huddled in my mummy bag, determined to live a little differently once I got off the mountain.

The next morning, we re-packed our packs and hiked down, significantly refreshed and rejuvenated after our trip to the unspoiled country. Some have called the Sierra mountains “God’s country”. After our memorable trip, I think I have to agree. ◄