You are in bull trout country. It is the first sign you see at Laurance Lake. We passed it again as we started across the dam, up the Laurance Lake Loop Trail.

On the north side of the lake, the trail switchbacks up the ridge. After we gained elevation, we began to see Mount Hood in the clouds and more of the water became visible. At full pool, this lake is 127 surface acres and is more than 100 feet deep at its deepest point.

Wind howled down out of the Cascades. The clouds blew. Whitecaps whipped up. Fed by the Clear Branch and Pinnacle Creek, the lake’s outflow joins the Middle Fork of the Hood River.

From various vantage points we should have had a clear look at Mount Hood, but the clouds hid the glaciers and summit. We climbed on, my daughters Jennifer and Mikayla stopping to look at “fairy caves” and wildflowers. We were almost to the next switchback when I heard a high-pitched whistle. Not a marmot. A pika.

At that moment we became hunters again, stalking a pika for a look at the elusive animal that my girls had never seen. We hid in vine maple and scanned a rock slide.

There, perched on a rock, looking out over the mountain valley, was a pika, a rock rabbit, which happens to be one of my favorite creatures. Now I knew why we’d hiked all this way, we needed go no further.

On the way back down, the clouds parted, the wind began to still, and Hood’s Langille, Coe and Ladd glaciers appeared, lit from the east.

The afternoon before, I’d borrowed a 12-foot Hobie Pro Angler kayak from Tumalo Creek Kayak and Canoe. After lunch I slipped it into the water. Mikayla was in another kayak. My dad, who had joined us for the day, pushed his pontoon boat in.

The Hobie Pro Angler can be paddled like any other kayak, but its real strength is the Mirage Drive system, which runs on a pedal system. Drop the rudder, then pedal it like a bicycle. Beneath the boat, two fins kick like a merman’s tail, and the boat goes. A rudder control at the left hand turns the boat left and right.

This time, I left the fly rod cased and tied on a crankbait. First cast. Bam. I was in bull trout country. This one was about 12 inches long.

My second fish was a hatchery rainbow. It is easy to imagine the rainbows know they are in bull trout country shortly after they go in the water. The slow ones don’t make it.

Once a bull trout reaches about 16 inches, it makes its living eating other fish. And a 24-inch bull can choke down an 8-inch stocker. Some big predators lurk in that lake.

Dad caught a nice rainbow on a rubber-legged Hare’s Ear, and, when I figured out where the fish were concentrated, I caught two more bull trout and another rainbow.

Some of the best fishing is at the mouths of the creeks, along the north shore and along the dam. Parts of the lake are protected from the wind. We found calm water off the mouth of Pinnacle Creek and along the south shore.

When I ventured into the wind chop, the Hobie did well out there, too. It is a unique kayak in that a person can stand and cast. This one was equipped with a rod holder behind the seat.

At first I wanted one up front, then I realized I didn’t need a rod holder at all. I used the paddle only in very shallow water and pedal-kicked everywhere else, my rod in my right hand, ready to set the hook.

Hatchery rainbow trout, native cutthroat trout and bull trout are the main catch in this irrigation reservoir. There are some smallmouth in the lake. There is no limit on smallies. Only fin-clipped trout and bass may be kept. Bait fishing is not permitted.

Campground host Ken Nelson related a story about three anglers who didn’t abide by the above-mentioned rules. Fishing with bait, they had 10 trout each in possession when the trooper fingered them this season. According to Nelson, it cost each fisherman $4,350 and all their gear. Welcome to bull trout country, where it pays to read the regulations.

— Gary Lewis is the host of “Frontier Unlimited” and author of “John Nosler – Going Ballistic,” “A Bear Hunter’s Guide to the Universe,” “Hunting Oregon” and other titles. Contact Lewis at www.GaryLewisOutdoors.com.