A Beach Picnic: Driftwood Valley Outfitters Style
I looked around, recognizing the location as the launch point for the cross-lake barge that brought us from the Prince George’s side of Babine Lake, landing us in the area where we’d been hunting Black bears and game viewing for the past 10 days. I wondered why we’d ended up here once again. So, I looked to the driver, Michael Schneider, Owner/Operator of Driftwood Valley Outfitters, and our guide on the Black bear hunt, and asked what was going on. He smiled and said, “We planned to start a new tradition, copying the end-of-Safari cookout and picnic they do in Africa, but with a British Columbian flavor. We thought Frances and you were perfect candidates for our first-ever beach celebration.” I glanced back to where Cook, Taxidermist, and Guide Tammy Eichhoff was loading an inflatable boat with fishing tackle, ice chests, and large plastic boxes filled with cooking gear and food, and stated the bleeding obvious, “I’m guessing fish is on the menu?” Michael’s smile came back as he retorted, “Only if Tammy is successful!” Notwithstanding his German sarcasm, I should have known that our two leaders had contingency plans to ensure we would eat well whether or not Tammy caught fish.
We helped Tammy complete the inflatable’s outfitting with rods and reels, lures, and a life jacket. Then, we lifted and shoved the boat away from the sandy lake shore as she primed the outboard, giving the pull cord a first yank. The motor cranked on the second pull, and we watched as Tammy quickly moved across the deeper waters of the glacier-carved Babine Lake.
The lakes in Central British Columbia arose as glaciers went to and fro during the oscillating cold and warm periods. The icy sculptors often carved the lake ravines, like the so-called ‘finger lakes’ of upper New York state, to extreme depths; Babine Lake reaches a maximum distance from the surface to the bottom of over 600 feet. After swinging into the shore, depositing the boxes full of gear and food, Tammy climbed back into the boat and glided across the deepest regions of Babine Lake, heading for inshore shallows where feeding fish more likely congregated
Listening to the lawnmower noise of the outboard diminishing in the distance, we began our hike down a game trail leading to the beach bordering Babine Lake. Footprints and scat spotted along the trail included that from moose, bear, and elk. The bear’s black and grizzly presence explained the rifle slung across Michael’s shoulder. It took 15 minutes to reach where Tammy’s pile of boxes, etc., rested on the sandy point. While Michael and Frances began unloading dishes, pans, grilling tools, and setting out chairs, I started the search for wood for cooking and warmth. The cool breeze in this elevated part of British Columbia began to well before sunset, and its presence was noted on this late afternoon.
By the time I returned, heavily weathered logs tossed onto shore during stormier weather in tow, all the necessary utensils, along with the containers of spices and potato salad, rested on the tops of the plastic boxes. We all, especially Tammy’s dog Inya, watched her in the distance as she worked the small boat across the opposite near-shore. Michael asked me to collect some smaller sticks to help build up a deep layer of coals needed for pan-frying halibut from Driftwood’s fishing lodge and [hopefully] fresh, Tammy-caught trout. We looked up after 30 minutes, and sure enough, our fisherwoman came skimming back toward our picnic spot.
As Tammy landed, she grinned broadly, reached down at her feet, and hefted a beautiful Rainbow trout into the air. We gave her a cheer and applause – all I would contribute to our picnic besides wood-gathering. As she climbed out of the boat, Michael and I grabbed the inflatable and slid it up onto the sandy shoreline. I turned around to find that Tammy had wasted no time, starting to clean her catch on a log beside the fire. Once gutted, she passed the trout to Michael, who quickly proved his fishing skill. The next step involved smoothing the coals down into a level heap with the bottom of the fire-blackened skillet, adding olive oil, and waiting for it to heat. Next, with the skillet removed from the coals and the halibut and trout sprinkled with seasoned salt and pepper, Michael laid the fillets edge-to-edge into the hot oil and returned the skillet to its coal bed. As we sipped our drinks, we admired the beautiful setting, sunset mixing the shadows of people, dogs, and trees, with Michael’s technicolor-stock rifle and driftwood into a collage of orange, gray, and black. And, the loons, with their haunting calls, to me so like coyotes howling in the distance. With the melancholy songs echoing across the lake’s surface, we watched as one of the beautiful birds glided across and dove after its prey, the same prey we were about to dine on.
A few minutes after the skillet returned to its fiery perch, Michael leaned and poured more olive oil across the fish. Three minutes later, he used the large spatula to flip the fillets like meaty pancakes. The underside, now topside, of the fish steaks, was beautifully brown, with the trout showing the characteristic curling of fish muscle that had been swimming less than 30 minutes earlier. We waited no more than 10 minutes before Michael wrapped a dishcloth around the heated handle of the skillet, lifting it from the coals. Michael scooped a piece of trout and halibut onto each of the four plates already loaded with potato salad.
The cold wind made tucking into the wonderfully seasoned ocean and freshwater fish even more enjoyable. Or – since Michael and Tammy were following in the footsteps of African PHs – to quote from the most famous Safari biography of all time: “The cold was beginning to be bitter enough to stop the mosquitoes and discourage the flies, bitter enough to command at least two thick blankets on the cot, bitter enough to spur an appetite that was already going at full gallop inside you.” (Horn of the Hunter, Robert Ruark).
Michael and Tammy pulled off a coup on their first attempt at an end-of-hunt cookout. Frances and I could not have asked for a better finale for our Black bear adventure in the backcountry of British Columbia.
Mike Arnold has been a life-long hunter. The Hunter’s Horn blew very early for him. From the age of five, Mike has spent months each year pursuing game animals – from quail and rabbits behind his parents’ house, to kudu and leopard in Africa, and Brocket deer in Mexico. Mike’s articles include feature pieces in Sports Afield, Hunter’s Horn, Safari Magazine, and African Hunting Gazette. Mike also produced two TEDx presentations on the topic of conservation-through-trophy-hunting. You can find links to many of his articles and his Blog here.
Mike is also a Professor and the Head of the Department of Genetics at the University of Georgia. He works in conservation biology and is the author of the 2022 book, BRINGING BACK THE LIONS: International Hunters, Local Tribespeople, and the Miraculous Rescue of a Doomed Ecosystem in Mozambique. Mike’s book is available for purchase at bringingbackthelions.com, Amazon and local bookstores.