Backpacking Next Door

My oldest son Bert sent me an email early in the year and asked me if I wanted to go backpacking with him  in the summer. (He grew up as ‘Chip’ but settled into the name Herb during high school. Now he pretty-much goes by Bert. The family still thinks of him as Chip, and when they inquire about him it's always something like "What have you heard from Chip lately?") He had been introduced to backpacking when he was 5, and continues to head into the wilderness areas anytime that he has the chance. We finally settled on a departure date from his house in Idaho on my birthday. This turned out to be his 3rd trip into the mountains in 6 weeks, with one more to go sometime in mid August.

I arrived at 4 in the afternoon and we left shortly afterwards – to his in-laws up the hill from his house where we had a birthday Bar-B-Q. About 9pm we redistributed some weight between our packs, tossed them in the back of my truck and headed toward the Sawtooth National Recreation Area, which is a couple of hours drive NE of his home in Emmett.

Arriving about midnight at Grandjean, the trailhead located at 5100’ elevation, we spread our ground cloth, rolled out our sleeping bags, and went to sleep. The next morning we repacked and headed up the trail. Although I live at an elevation of 2980’, the extra elevation made the steady climb difficult to catch enough oxygen. (No, the fact that I turned 68 the day before had nothing to do with it.) We managed about 2+ mph the first hour, but the scenery was so spectacular that I slowed my pace somewhat for the next 4 hours. In fact the more we hiked, the more spectacular the scenery was and I slowed almost to a standstill. At about 2 we stopped for the day and made a rough camp off of the trail about 100’ from the creek where we drew water for preparing our meal of Mountain House Honey-Lime Chicken, a cup of hot chocolate, and a desert of apple compost. This turned out to be the most complete meal of the trip. Chip explained later that he didn’t want me to bolt for civilization while I could still get out in one day. This was the first time in many backpacking trips since 1960 that I was neither the food planner nor the cook. Chip took on the job and fulfilled the duties of the office very well. Mostly, the days consisted of a serving of instant oatmeal and either a mocha or French vanilla flavored breakfast drink, a handful of trail mix during the day’s hike, and dinner. I should explain dinner.

When I was the head planner and chief cook on family backpacking trips, dinner consisted of an entrée, a side vegetable, a drink and a desert – usually with a surprise a little later like some hot chocolate and/or a candy bar before bedtime. The dinner as defined by the second-generation head planner and chief cook: Either a side dish (i.e. serving of instant potatoes, or corn & green beans) and a nice dessert such as blueberry cheesecake or cherry cobbler… or an entrée such as Jambalaya and a dessert such as a cup of hot chocolate. I will admit that it sounds a little sparse, but I was amazed that I wasn’t starving. In spite of 5 to 6 miles of hiking up trails daily, with a total intake of around 900 calories, I really wasn’t feeling deprived. However, I will admit that after about 3 days I would go to sleep with a fantasy about a juicy hamburger or a huge chef salad as I drifted off.

Our second night was at Baron Lake (elevation 8312'). During the week we camped at 5 different lakes while passing as many during the day’s travels. Although the lakes were all between 8,312' to 8,565' we managed to gain and lose about 1,000' between Baron Lake. and Alpine Lake (8,331'). The easiest hike of the week was from Alpine (8,331') to Middle Cramer (8,350'), but we lost and regained about 1,500' in the process. The downhill part was very abrupt and quick while the uphill part stretched out quite nicely with only a moderate gain per mile. On the last day we climbed from Middle Cramer to the Cramer Divide (10,600') and back down to Hidden Lake (8,565').

The SNRA has frequent rain during the summer months, which allows wildflowers to thrive in abundance. There is also the same variety of birds and mammals that you would expect to find in the mountains as well as a pretty good population of mosquitoes that seem to thrive in the damp environment and come out about 10:30pm when the light has faded from the sky.

In the late afternoon on Tuesday it sprinkled a little and by the time we had finished eating it had turned into a light shower. By bedtime there was sheet lightning and thunder. The echo rolling off of the mountains was quite impressive, but not nearly as fun to be in as it is in the movies when some cowboy and his horse is in a downpour. Chip had bought something called a Hennessy Hammock that could be strung between two trees. It had a rain fly, slept surprisingly flat and comfortable, and eliminated the need to find a spot that was flat and lump free. I had brought a thin mat, sleeping bag, and a tarp I could pull over me in case of dampness. Wednesday morning we got a late start because my bag needed to dry a little in the morning sun. Wednesday was a repeat of Tuesday except that instead of the lightning and thunder it was just light drizzle periodically through the night. Thursday morning we decided to pack things damp, as it was still misty. Our plan was to arrive at the next lake and, hopefully, dry out if the weather had improved by then. We got started about 10:30 and arrived at Elk Lake at 1:30. This hike had put us over yet another ridge, but this time we had crossed from the Boise Drainage to the Payette drainage. This might not mean anything to you, but to us it meant it was all down hill from that ridge to the Grandjean trailhead. As we were changing clothes and laying wet things on rocks to dry we talked about cutting the trip short and just heading out. The truck was about 12 miles away and we had already come 6 miles that day but we decided to get as far as we could until we got tired enough to quit. We also decided that maybe we would have dinner on the spot while things continued to dry. That might give me enough energy to continue at the pace we had been going. At 3 o’clock we were on the trail again and on our way to some unknown spot for the night. By about 7 we felt we were close enough to just keep going, and we trudged on. Because of the rains and the fact that it had been heavier on this side of the mountain, the streams, that we would normally ford by walking on rocks, were full and in some cases over their banks. Several times we had to stop, remove our boots, change into "water shoes", cross, and put boots back on. By 9:00 p.m. I was starting to sag a little but I was determined to get out. Chip was pretty patient with me and from time to time would offer a handful of trail mix or a salted nut bar to keep me going. (Think of a donkey and a carrot.)

In the summer the sun sets a little later in the day the farther north you are. Even though I am not talking about the Arctic Circle here, it stays light enough to see quite well until the moon comes up. It was about 9:30 when we heard a noise I had never before experienced in the outdoors. We were on the mountain slope on the right side of the Payette River in the valley we were hiking in. On the slope of the mountain on the opposite side of the valley we began to hear a chorus of wolves. It started out with one or two, and then as others joined in we could tell that they must be about a half mile behind us about halfway up the opposite mountainside - maybe. The chorus became louder and stronger and we began to speculate as to what was going on. Eventually, we guessed that there might be between 8 or 10 animals. In a few minutes we could see the almost full moon begin to peek over our side of the mountain, but considerably far behind us. It turns out that they could see the moon before we did and were welcoming it to a new night. Gray wolves had been reintroduced into Idaho from 1996 through 1999. The original transplants from Canada had started out with 6 to 8 animals each of those years, but has grown to an estimated population of a couple of hundred.

We continued down the trail and arrived at the truck about 10:30 – 12 hours and about 20 miles from where we started. It’s funny. Hearing those wolves re-energized me and put a spring in my step and I had no trouble keeping up with Chip the rest of the way.

I want to thank my son for giving me this birthday present. I had a truly good time and I look forward to our next trip. Check out the photo album. A lot of them were taken by Chip.