Day 20
July 1, 2003
Our campsite was cold because of the nearby snow banks. We awoke to a clear sky, packed up, and set off at 6:22 am. We continued to follow the Forest Service road, which generally kept to the ridge or just below it, slowly descending. We found several creeklets and quite a bit more snow, but were soon below the last of the lingering banks. The morning air was chilly and we stopped frequently to stretch. My ankle was ok, but painful with each step. Not enough to want to stop and rest though. We were anxious to get down to Lochsa Lodge and our resupply. We were not overly hungry, even though we had only three granola bars, half a cup of granola and milk, and a handful of raisins and peanuts left. We stopped at Grizzly Bear saddle to eat the granola, and to rest.
From here the road had been recently scraped, and at Powell Junction the sign read six miles to Highway 12. In a couple of miles we came to a logging-in-process area. The remaining four miles were more steeply downhill, through old clear cuts. A few remaining giant cedars still stood, but huge stumps were sadly everywhere.
We reached Highway 12, turned right, and a couple hundred yards further was the Lochsa Lodge. The time was 11:45 am. We arrived dusty, stinky, and tired. We rented their cheapest cabin, $38 a night. It was an old, one-room affair with cedar siding and a wood stove, very similar to the one I had lived in forty some years ago while spending the summer in Yellowstone Park; it was built in the 1940's. This one was rustic but clean and comfy, and it provided the ideal rest for Jenny and me.
We showered, then sat down in the restaurant for burgers. At the store we picked up our resupply box. We learned bear hunting season had just started. The housekeepers took our bundle of laundry and washed it in their washing machines, while Jenny washed my shoes in a bucket.
Day 21
July 2, 2003
Layover at Lochsa Lodge, reading, sleeping, and eating. We happened to find one of John McPherson's books in the lodge's library, so that was my reading material for the day. On the premises were a couple of very tame squirrels. I fed one a few peanuts. A while later, I found him begging at the open front door. I tossed a few more peanuts, and it wasn't long before he was sitting on my bed, leaning on my arm, eating some granola. I was trying to stay off my feet, reading my book.
Day 22
July 3, 2003
We had a small box to send home, but the post office didn't open until 7:30 am, so we stayed at the lodge for breakfast. The post office was housed at the ranger station - we had never seen that arrangement before. It wasn't a real P.O., but they had P.O. boxes, and could ship our box and charge us the proper postage.
We followed the paved road through a small residential area, and eventually to the White Sands campground. There we had trouble locating our intended road. So we looked at the map posted on the official map bulletin board. It was hand drawn, and curiously was a mirror image of the landscape, and it was backwards. Either someone has a fine sense of humor, or is unbelievably inept at maps.
We followed a fishing trail around the right side of the pond, and eventually reached our intended Forest Service road 111. This road led up into the mountains, a little too steeply for our legs, but it was easy going, if a little slow. Numerous vehicles passed by. This was the eve of July 4 holidays, and for some reason, these people were not all that friendly, although some returned our waves, reservedly. Three fellows on four-wheelers in particular gave us the willies.
There were lots of small creeks along the way; some even had lingering trout in them. We made several stops to rest our legs and ease our old injuries. The day's layover rest had done wonders for out blisters, but had done nothing for my sore ankle or Jenny's sore knees, and by this we knew, once again, that the shoes were at the root of the problem. Ray's Axiom: you keep wearing the footwear you're wearing, you're feet and legs will keep hurting where they're hurting.
After nine hours of plodding, swatting bugs, and dodging cars we reached the end of the road above Elk Summit. Elk Summit is a gorgeous, vibrant-green meadow, long and narrow with a meandering creek. We began following trail number 486, which was an old road that led diagonally up for half a mile, then gradually diagonally down a few miles to the junction with trail number 939. Along the way we met a group of inner city youths struggling under far too heavy backpacks. They said they were heading out after a three-day trip.
We reached the trail junction at 6:45 pm, and in a nice meadow a short ways below we made camp, pitching the tarp between two trees.
Day 23
July 4, 2003
Just at daybreak I heard the hoof falls of a deer nearby. I looked out to see a doe and a young buck. They were very curious about us and the tarp. One approached and either tripped over a guy, or tried to nip or taste the guy. Every time I moved, they spooked, but they moved away only a short distance. So it was hard to determine what they had in mind.
We set off at 7:10 am beneath a clear blue sky. We were glad it was not raining because the bushes would have soaked us; they were often over our heads. It took us one and a half hours to reach our trail junction. At the junction, all the traffic went right, and we went left, leaving us with a very poor trail. But before long we entered a magnificent old-growth cedar grove.
For nearly an hour we hiked among these stately giants. The forest was dark and the under-story was minimal. But one time we waded through a field of maiden hair fern. The trees dwarfed us, and we felt like leprechauns.
Just at the far edge of the cedar, the trail made an abrupt left turn and began to steeply climb the slope. This didn't feel right, but we followed it about three hundred vertical feet. It seemed like the wrong trail, taking us up out of the valley. We turned around and descended back to the river, searched around but couldn't find our intended trail. We decided to X-C along the river. This required just a bit of climbing around some rocks - easily done. In about two thirds of a mile we found our trail again.
The next several miles were rugged and difficult, made more so by the bush overgrowing the trail. We found a dilapidated wall tent and wood stove - some equestrian hunter had left it there. The trail crossed the river fortunately at a place that was wide and shallow. That was the first place we had seen to cross; otherwise the river was tumultuous, deep and rushing. In about half a mile the trail crossed the river again. This was more difficult because the river was deeper here. We walked across a floating log. It took us ten minutes to get through the brush on the river bank. A huge fire had swept through here - it looked like about fifteen years ago.
The going here was quite a bit easier - which is not to say easy, because of the brush and deadfalls. We were following the east fork of Moose Creek, which flowed down an immense drainage with towering mountains on both sides. All the trees left standing were dead and sun bleached white, all the way to the top of the mountains.
The trail crossed the river again, and we stopped to cook dinner - at about 4:50 pm. We had about a forty-five minute cook break - corn spaghetti.
The trail crossed the river yet again, but we decided not to follow it. Our feet were sore from walking wet-footed. We bush-whacked through knee-high grass, following game trails. We saw five elk across the river - very beautiful animals - innocent and not terribly aware. One of them finally saw us and stood looking at us a long while. Later we saw four cows and one bull elk with a nice rack. The higher we went, the smaller the river became.
Eventually we reached the edge of the burn and re-entered the forest. The trail was getting much better, the closer we get to Lost Horse Pass. The trail led around a couple of large swampy areas, and then very shortly we found an established camping area and stopped at 7:03 pm to make camp.
The day had been very demanding. It amazes us that there is a valley so wild like this remaining in the lower 48. The poor trail and the bush made it seem a lot more hostile. At this camp the mosquitoes and no-see-ums are quite numerous. We were surprised to see three hikers and a dog come down the trail at 8:00 pm.
Day 24
July 4, 2003
Set off at 6:30 am. The morning was quite chilly with not a mosquito in sight. The ground was boggy in many places, so we were thankful that there had not been any horses on this trail yet. They would have torn up the ground and made the hiking difficult. That is one reason we like to get off the beaten trial where there is not livestock.
The underbrush was very thick. We had camped in the vicinity of Moose Lake but never saw it. We hiked through a few avalanche slopes that had seen the previous winter. We surmised there had been a late, wet snowfall. Many trees were knocked down. The trail climbed four or five miles to the pass, and at last we reached the pass at 8:30 am.
It had been interesting watching East Fork Moose Creek diminish, little by little, the higher we went. We basically witnessed the birth of a river.
The trail led along the edge of the upper Twin Lake - actually a reservoir. At its end we switched into road walking mode. From here it was twenty-one miles down to highway 93, according to one source.
Apparently a pickup truck with no tailgate had recently driven up this road. This was the "in" thing with the pickup crowd, and it was also a great way to loose tools. For the next several miles we saw almost the entire contents of a large socket and wrench set. We probably saw fifty pieces all together.
The road was busy with Fourth of July weekend traffic, with cars or trucks coming up the road. Some people waved, some didn't. So we started a rating system with zero being no acknowledgment of us whatsoever, and ten being someone stops and offers us cold sodas. If they slowed down and moved over to give us room, they got two points. If they waved they got two points. And if they actually smiled at us, that was good for an additional 3 points. Most people were a three to five. There were no tens.
We saw many picnic/camping spots along the road, adjacent the river. We stopped at one to soak our feet, cool off, and rinse some clothes. The canyon was spectacular with many rocky outcroppings. We found five dead snakes on the road, all run over. These were garter type snakes. But one chocolate boa about one and a half feet long was moving off the road, so we urged it off to safety.
Near the bottom we passed by a dude ranch, and a stones throw from the ranch was a restaurant. This is one of the few restaurants we have ever passed up on a long distance hike. The stench of horse manure was completely unappetizing.
Half a mile before reaching the highway we exchanged hellos with a farmer, and he turned out to be a ten. He offered us sodas out of the back of his pickup. But we declined since he was working in the fields and needed the refreshments more than we did. Then a motorist actually stopped and offered us a lift, which we declined, of course. He was the only one out of at least a hundred cars that went by.
We reached the highway at 5:30 pm, and by now the day was sweltering. So we walked one third of a mile and climbed down under the bridge of the Lost Horse River which we had been following all day. We were washing our feet and resting in the shade, when some kid parked nearby, started filming us with his video camera, trying to be secretive.
We walked along the highway - not much fun with high speed traffic but at least the shoulder was plenty wide. We turned onto the Old Dark Road and followed it several more miles. At one point Jenny went up to one of the houses and asked for four gallons of drinking water from their hose.
This was a beautiful valley, with stunning views of the mountains to the West. No way could a person hike along that ridge, which is why we had descended.
With houses everywhere, we had trouble finding a place to camp. About two miles north of Darby, we turned onto a dirt road, climbed up the forest's slope, crossed a fence and high upon the steep hill we found a place to call it quits for the day under the Ponderosas. The time was 8:05 pm.
We figured we hiked over thirty miles today - four up to Twin Lake, 21 down to highway 93, then another 4-7 to camp.
Day 25
July 6, 2003
We set off at 6:30 am and walked the remaining two miles into Darby. We were pleasantly surprised to find much more than the "General Store and Antique Shops" as advertised in the town's web site. At a good sized grocery store we bought a bunch of fruit. There were also several cafés and motels. We had breakfast at the Silver Spoon, which served large portions. Then, at 9:00 am, we began the long walk along the highway.
A sign read 31 miles to Mont. 43, which we knew was at Lost Trail Pass. Our goal now was the nineteen miles to Sula.
The day began to grow hot, so we stopped to rest at a church, in the shade of a tree. Services were just about to get underway. People were arriving, but they didn't seem to mind us.
Further along, we stopped twice under bridges. They were wonderfully cool and refreshing, and we soaked our feet in the East Fork Bitterroot River.
For the first third of the way we had a good shoulder, but then we lost the shoulder, and it became dangerous dodging cars. Then the last third was excellent because the road crew had recently completed renovation and the shoulder was very wide.
The day was hot, and we were glad to finally reach Sula at 4:00 pm. The store was small but well stocked with camping and tourist items, and the clerks were friendly. For a treat we rented a small cabin, with beautiful wood construction and cozy and wonderfully comfy interior. It felt wonderful to have a shower nearby, and clean sheets. With freshly laundered clothes we enjoyed a most relaxing afternoon. Our resupply box seemed huge, but it contained new shoes for both of us. My left ankle had been hurting, so it was good to get rid of that problem. The restaurant was not open for dinner, so we bought large quantities of picnic type foods.
Day 26
July 7, 2003
Set off at 6:00 am. The sky was clear, and the morning was very chilly. We could see our breaths. We met a bicyclist who was training on the steep road to Lost Trail pass. He said he rides it twice, two times a week. We joked that we were going to walk it only once.
We walked the road for about one and a half hours, thinking of stopping and putting on more clothes, but never got around to actually doing it. Finally the sun rose high enough to shine on us, and warmed us slowly. The shoulder on the left side was plenty wide for us. Even on a Monday morning there was still a lot of traffic. We met the bicyclist four miles from the pass - he was heading down for the second time. He stopped and we talked for a while. He was training for a famous race in France.
We reached Lost Trail Pass at about noon, turned left on highway 43, and hiked one mile up to Chief Joseph Pass. This is where we joined our CDT route of 1992. We found the trail diagonally up from the road and a rustic CDT sign nailed to a tree. It felt good to get off the road after three days of dealing with the traffic. The trail led down a short ways, then connected with a dirt road. This we followed four of five miles south.
Eventually we found ourselves on the summit of Anderson Peak, meaning that we had lost our turn. We back tracked thirteen minutes and found a road heading up into the forest. It looked like just another campsite road, but it proved to be the one we were after. It led about a third of a mile, and just before it ended, a good trail led off to the right. There were no signs anywhere; but the trail was leading in the right direction - down and east - so we figured it was CDT. It led along fairly gently for one or two miles, then suddenly it climbed very steeply up a long hill.
We were getting very thirsty, so just before the trail made for the next major ascent we left the trail and continued into the forest. This was a bit of a challenge at times because the slope was steep and deadfalls were everywhere. We traveled quite a long way around the mountain, and then found what I thought was the Nez Perce Trail. The reason for the traverse was to try to find water. The entire mountainside was dry, and we were extremely thirsty. (A few miles before reaching Lost Trail Pass we had found a small creek in a ravine and filled one quart each.) The Nez Perce trail soon led up to a beautiful spring. We were thankful for the cold and beautiful water. We drank a lot, and filled our bottles.
We followed a good trail up the hill for fifty yards. We thought we would camp here, but could not find one square inch of manure-free ground. A sign read "Divide Trail," with an arrow pointing left. That didn't seem right, so we went right up the hill a short ways to the summit. From there we could see that the sign was probably correct. We followed it North for one third of a mile. It was climbing too much for our own liking, so we left it and traversed.
At the next ridge we could see we were still not quite right. The mountain was bigger than we thought, and we had to get around it to the NW. Climbing diagonally up and right we found what we thought was the trail we had left thirty minutes earlier. It traversed around and then descended steeply. We realized this was the CDT. It descended to a ridge, and we followed the ridge a quarter mile and made camp at 9:15pm. The mosquitoes at the spring had been fierce, and they stayed that way the rest of the evening. At camp there were thousands of them. We would have liked to have a net-tent to use under our tarp, but thankfully we had head nets and mosquito proof shells.
Day 27
July 8, 2003
At 2:00 am we heard a rushing wind that sounded like a freight train headed our way. It kept coming, and soon ran right over the top of us. It seemed like the whole forest should have been knocked down, but luckily it wasn't. Lightning was flashing in bright bolts, between which we could see absolutely nothing. The noise and strength of the wind was frightening. Fortunately we had selected a very well protected site, and that made all the difference. The wind reduced, and a heavy rain ensued, lasting for twenty minutes. Then all went quiet. But soon the infernal hoards of mosquitoes resumed.
At 6:30 am when we set off, the rising sun cast an orange glow, but to the west the sky was black. After thirty minutes of hiking, the sky let loose. We climbed very slowly up a steep mountainside with umbrellas and rain jackets. In half an hour the rain gave way, but the lightning was exploding in the far/immediate distance, and so we moved right along, crossing a long summit ridge. The storm moved on, and we made a long, steep descent, now following a four-wheeler track.
Three hours into our morning we reached Big Hole Pass, which is a dirt road coming up from Gibsonville. We descended the road east half a mile, then turned south on a lesser road. Eventually we arrived at a dilapidated cabin at which point the road dead-ended. So we backtracked five minutes, took the other fork, which was the one more traveled, and followed this all the way up to the pass.
Along the way were a great deal of tracks of moose, elk, and deer. Also we had a look at a hunter's camp - abandoned - presumably, with a cheap tent, sleeping bag, and stove. The tent had collapsed and everything had been abandoned. The road dropped abruptly into Bradley Gulch and descended very steeply for a couple of miles. Eventually we reached the old miner's cabin with a great deal of rusty miscellaneous junk stacked on the front porch.
Continuing past the cabin we found two CDT signs. This was always nice because it takes the mystery out of route finding. These were only the second and third ones we've seen so far. The trail wasted no time, climbing steeply for quite a ways, then traversing a fair ways into the South Fork Sheep Creek Drainage. The trail on this section was somewhat indistinct and rough-hewn. It crossed the creek three times. Drinking water was plentiful, and at one of the small streams we stopped and cooked corn pasta, as always leaving no evidence of our cook fire.
The trail here was in a little better shape than when we had hiked it eleven years ago, but not much. But soon it reached a junction with another trail, where back in 1992 the trail crew had come in, and from here the trail was very well constructed, if a little steep. Eventually this trail led to the edge of the forest, and climbed steeply up the scree slope to the ridge above.
In 1992 we had climbed from this cirque to the ridge without the trail, and then descended the other side to the forest far below. Without the trail, it had been much tougher then than now.
The new trail followed the ridge a ways, and then traversed a long ways across the steep mountainside. It had been a huge amount of work to build, but it was an absolute delight to hike. Along the way were many old limber pines, some had burned long ago and the large trunks had weathered to a beautiful brown and gold texture. The manufactured trail entered a beautiful cirque with alpine flowers, and grasses, small subalpine fir and limber pine and a couple of exquisite creeklets. Then the trail led up to the next pass. This whole section was magnificent. And so was the next section.
The trail traversed this cirque high also. We had to cross many lingering snow banks and rock hop across numerous runoff creeklets, adorned on their banks with delicate flowers and mosses.
The day was growing late and we were starting to look for camp. The bugs were largely absent most of the day but were steadily growing in numbers. We went for a couple miles looking for a campsite, passing by two small lakes and one larger one - very pretty. We climbed up to the next pass, and there we started pitching the tarp, but I decided against it. The wind was at its best here, helping to reduce mosquitoes, but ultimately I decided it was not worth the risk of a storm eventuating.
So we carried on another ten minutes into the next cirque, and at 9:12 pm found a nice spot, semi sheltered in the stunted limber pine and fir. The wind was fairly boisterous, yet the mosquitoes were still numerous.
Day 28
July 9, 2003
After a comfortable, cool night, with not too many bugs, we set off at 7:20 am. We were a little late due to the lateness of the previous night while making camp.
It was a beautiful morning, and cloudless sky. We resumed following the trail down through the forest. The trail climbed up to a small pass, which is where we had come down from a snowstorm on the mountain in 1992.
The trail switch-backed a fair ways down the mountain, where it seemed like it could have traversed and then climbed the other side. My cross-country mindset kicking in again. Again today we enjoyed spectacular scenery, with peaks towering overhead rising to 10,000 feet plus. Most of the peaks were not named on our maps. We had more than ample good water, from springs and snowmelt small creeks.
The trail climbed over a second pass, then lead diagonally and traversed to upper Slag-A-Melt Lake. We tried taking a traversing shortcut, only to find ourselves stuck. We had to descend to lower Slag-A-Melt Lake to pick up the trail.
Normally we don't mind four-wheeler tracks on the trail - we much prefer them to horse manure - but in a few places the trail was boggy and the vehicles had gone around snow banks and had made dreadful ruts in the soggy terrain.
After descending along the Slag-A-Melt trail a mile or so, we came to a newly constructed CDT section. This traversed around the mountain quite a long ways, and made for easy hiking. Then it descended to the Ajax Mine Road. Unfortunately the trail construction had stopped here. I walked down the road, and Jenny walked up the road a ways until she found the old trail heading east up the next slope.
This was the old trail that we had missed in 1992. Instead we had hiked straight up the very steep forested hill; and this is what we had to do this time also, because after the trail crossed the creek on logs, it disappeared. We searched everywhere but could not find it. So again we clawed our way up the slope. The only real difficulties were the steepness and the blowdowns. Vegetation wasn't a problem.
Higher up, the slope eased, the trees thinned out, and eventually we found the trail. This old trail was very indistinct, and here was marked with orange paint blazes on rocks leading up to the pass. By their tracks we knew that another pair of hikers had hiked this stretch - possibly part of the trail crew.
From the pass we followed the trail down and around a huge talus field. In 1992 we had boldly gone directly across this talus, then climbed to the next ridge. The present trail led down to a dilapidated log cabin, then traversed marshy, grassy slopes full of wild flowers. We lost the trail several times. Then the trail started steeply up to the next pass.
Midway up we encountered the end of the current trail work, along with several shovels and digging implements lying about. We were dismayed to see that their new trail was quite steep, although it was better than what was there before. The new trail was buried in the snow, so we had to find our own way up to the pass. Once there we noticed that the new trail reached the pass well above the low point, which seemed odd.
From the pass we intended to work our way back to the rugged divide, but digression got the better of us, so we followed large, new cairns down into the valley.
Along the way we found more trail implements, and just above Rock Island Lakes we found the trail-making machine. I suggested Jenny climb aboard for a few humorous photographs, pretending she was driving the machine, wearing hard hat, ear protectors and her backpack. "Every hiker's dream: your own trail making machine."
The improved trail, still a work in progress, led far down, generally along the old road which was now apparently closed to vehicles.
At the Miner's Lakes trail junction was a newly constructed foot bridge - a nice touch - and more newly constructed trail leading up toward the lakes. We hiked it 1/8 mile to see if it might be new CDT. But apparently not, so we stopped at 4:15 pm to cook a pot of corn grits, then continued down the road/new trail, passing through a cattle fence, and nearby we made camp at 9 pm. The mosquitoes had been pretty aggressive most of the day, necessitating our hiking in our shells and sometimes with head nets, which were hot and sweaty.
Day 29
July 10, 2003
We slept really well, thanks to Jenny's idea of pinning a shirt to each side of our quilt netting, which allowed the use of the umbrella to hold the netting above our heads without gaps on the sides. (Note: the mosquito netting sewn to the quilt needs to be about one foot wider on each side.)
We set off at 7:15 am under a cloudless sky, descending the road/trail until coming to our intended trail junction. This junction had been moved upstream a few hundred yards with a modest footbridge over the creek and a CDT trail sign. This was an improvement over the situation 11 years ago when the junction had been extremely hard to find. But the trail itself had not been worked on much, if any. It led more or less straight up the steep mountain a long ways, and then near the top of the ridge it traversed and then descended.
After quite a ways, it led through a few boggy areas and became very indistinct, and we had to spend a fair bit of time looking for it. Eventually it reached Hamby Creek Road replete with a trail sign. We waded the creek, found another trail sign at the far side of the meadow, and then spent about 45 minutes looking for the trail but without success. Eventually we backtracked, crossing back across the creek, and returning to the road.
Our journal indicated we had found the trail in question 11 years ago, so we were determined to try again. This time we were successful, by starting at the Forest Service sign and following the blazes carefully. The further we went, the better the trail became, except in a few meadows. Above Berry Meadow, the trail traversed a long ways upstream, which seemed odd, and emerged at the Berry Creek Road, again seldom-used, and a dilapidated old cabin. Here I went into the creek for a bath. We had been hiking all morning in our mosquito garb and sweating every step of the way. I had been thinking about a bath for many miles. Jenny wasn't so inspired, because of the bugs, but she still went in.
We searched around, but couldn't find a subsequent trail, so we presumed the CDT followed the road down, mainly because we had been following blazes all morning and these blazes continued down the road. On the road above the trail junction, there were no blazes.
The road led on and on, with no trail junction anywhere in evidence. We were quite dismayed when it led all the way out to the road in Section 1. We were now miles from the mountains, down in the sage brush foothills. We followed the road, waded across the creek, and soon reached a junction with Pioneer Creek Road.
There was no indication that the CDT went up this road, and we had not gone that way in '92. But our journal indicated that the CDT did in fact go up this road. So we followed it, soon passing by a large, stagnant pond. Right away we came to a junction in a meadow where the road split. The left fork appeared seldom traveled. We were looking for such a junction, but this didn't seem like the one shown on the map because it was too low. In retrospect it was the one we should have taken. Nevertheless we continued on the right fork, which led up Pioneer Creek several miles, and waded across another creek. This road had tracks of one bicycle, 2 horses, 2 hikers, and a type of 2-wheeled, fat mud tires motor bike.
The road ended at another road, and we turned left and climbed more steeply uphill. After reaching the crest, this road descended and after awhile we came to the top end of the road we should have taken.
(Note: All this galumphing around may seem strange, when we could have carried a guide book. But in the spirit of this particular adventure, we much preferred to work things out for ourselves. This, as opposed to someone handing us a canned adventure on a silver platter.)
Soon we reached another road going up to Jahnke Lake. Surprisingly, here was a large post with an old, cracked CDT marker. From there we followed blazes and one or two cairns. Eventually the trail became discernible and grew more so the farther we went. This trail was enjoyable, and it contoured nicely.
In our experience, there is great value in stopping occasionally and annihilating the mosquitoes buzzing around us. This makes a tremendous difference, for it often allows us to hike more comfortably without our headnets.
A quarter mile from Jahnke Creek we stopped at 6:45 pm and cooked dinner - a delicious pot of corn spaghetti. The water we had been collecting from these major creeks was of questionable quality, and we had to be careful because we were not carrying a filter. Some of the sources were decidedly a no, some of them were marginally ok. We could often tell by the type and amount of algae growing in them, and the flow volume. Generally, the darker green the algae, the less desirable, even though the water itself looked good. But all these creeks were positively gushing. In the fall, I would be reluctant to drink out of any of them, owing to the range cattle.
Beginning at Jahnke Creek we started looking for a campsite. The sky had clouded over surprisingly quickly and we figured we would need a site with good drainage and no dead trees that might blow over in a strong wind. The forest was lodgepole pine and comprised 20% dead and standing. Not good.
So we continued on, climbed the next rise and the trail eventually diagonalled down to Skinner Meadow. At the roadhead, the trail we had been following had a sign indicating it was the Overland Trail. Now on the Skinner Meadow Road, we continued half a mile and made camp in a small grove of spruce, between the road and the creek. We stopped hiking at 8:30 pm. After pitching the tarp, I braved the hoards of bugs and went into the creek to cool off, then rushed under the tarp and into my protective clothes again.
- IUA Hiking & Biking Adventure
- Day 1, 2, 3, 4
- Day 5, 6, 7, 8
- Day 9, 10, 11, 12
- Day 13, 14, 15, 16
- Day 17, 18, 19, 20
- Day 21, 22, 23, 24
- Day 25, 26, 27, 28
- Day 29, 30, 31, 32
- Day 33, 34, 35, 36
- Day 37, 38, 39, 40
- Day 41, 42, 43, 44
- Day 45, 46, 47, 48
- Day 49, 50, 51, 52
- Day 53, 54, 55, 56
- Day 57, 58, 59