Last month, my regular adventure partner and I had a big adventure planned. It should have been my first overnight backpacking trip since college. But apparently the universe had other plans.
After a total disaster of a flight that had me sleeping on the floor of the Denver airport, I arrived in Salt Lake City. A quick nap on my part, then Shawn and I went on a “warm up” hike in Albion Basin and to Cecret Lake, just outside of the city. Here’s a tip for those who live at sea level - never believe someone who lives in Utah when they tell you something is “relatively flat.” 1200 feet of elevation gain is nothing of the sort.
Ok, so in that photo it looks pretty flat. But it’s deceiving, I promise. :)
Side note: I post this picture as a nod to the body image issues this trip brought up. It was hard for me to look at photos of myself afterward, and to behold the changes that the pandemic and injury have wrought on my weight loss efforts over the last 6 months or so. I’m only mentioning it this once, because it really didn’t bug me in the moment, but I wanted to mark it for future reading.
Anyway, it was a lovely hike full of wildflowers and gorgeous reflections in a mountain lake. And, it was a huge relief for me.
You see, in advance of this trip, I’d worked myself into a bit of a tizzy as I prepped for my first overnight backpacking trip since college. I spent months reading about what to pack and how to pack it. I bought a bear canister. I practiced setting up my new tent and reorganized all my stuff into color coded stuff sacks. I fretted because I’d hurt my knee and gained weight and couldn’t train - would I be able to make the trek? So the warm up hike was the test and I was happy to pass. We decided to go for it - to head up to Idaho and backpack a 19 mile loop in the Sawtooth Mountains.
And then, we drove north. Into the smoke.
If you don’t know, wildfires in California, Oregon and elsewhere have been spewing smoke into the sky for months now, in some cases creating weather patterns that sent the haze all the way over here to my east coast.
On that Saturday, as we drove north with the intention to stop at Craters of the Moon National Monument and Preserve, I kept looking in my rear view mirror and shaking my head at the murky gray-brown sky that we seemed to be leaving behind. Maybe it was wishful thinking; it didn’t seem that bad at Craters. When I look at this photo, though, taken from atop Inferno Cone, you can see the impact of the haze.
I have to admit that spending time in Hawaii has apparently made me a lava flow snob (who knew that was a thing?). I was underwhelmed by Craters. Still, the prospect of camping on a warm summer night was appealing…Shawn and I have a history of camping in cold and damp conditions, you see. I left the rainfly off in the hopes of seeing stars and just enjoying being out in nature, which turned out to be a mistake - dust and smoke made for a tough night of sleeping.
The next morning, we continued north, and things just deteriorated.
It speaks to how awesome Shawn is that he was the one to look at the smoke obscuring the mountains we were supposed to be goggling at and say “um, maybe we shouldn’t do this.” A lot of people, having traveled as far as we did, would have said “screw it, we’re doing it anyway,” and probably suffered for it. I was shocked at how relieved I was when we made the call to abandon our plan; a nagging summer cold had me coughing in the dry and smoky air and if I’m honest, I was dreading the hike as much as I was excited for it. But it was also a colossal bummer. All that planning and anticipation literally went up in smoke. And I really, really wanted to see those mountain lakes.
That said, I’m pretty proud of us for how we made the best of a crappy situation. We gave ourselves an hour or so to be seriously bummed, and then tried to figure out what to do next. We headed north and west, striking out for Boise in the hopes of finding better air. Beautiful hot springs appeared at the side of the road; we hopped out and splashed around for a while, which was great fun. We indulged in BBQ in Boise. And somehow Shawn managed to find the one green dot of “good” air in the entire area, at the Morley Nelson Snake River Birds of Prey National Conservation Area. That’s a mouthful, isn’t it?
On the website for this place, which is managed by the BLM, you’ll find this description:
The NCA is "nature in the rough," with few public facilities. However, the birds and their unique environment offer rich rewards to those willing to experience the NCA on its own terms and who have patience to fit into the natural rhythms of life in this special place.
I’ve been searching for the words to describe the afternoon and evening we spent there, and I think that does it. We found the rhythm of the place. For us two, who seem to always be in motion, there was magic in staying still as the sun set, the river rushed unendingly by, and the occasional fish flopped out of the water in a fit of some kind of fishy frenzy. We found a rock that was more in the river than next to it, and made it our spot for a few hours.
We laughed a little that night as we ate a fairly lackluster meal cooked over a camp stove - it didn’t taste as good because we hadn’t hiked a bunch of miles that day, but it didn’t matter. The stars peeked out through the clouds and bats flew overhead, and eventually mosquitos chased us under cover for the night. I had one of the better nights of outdoor sleeping I’ve ever had that night - with the rainfly on to keep out the dust.
The next day was another smoky wild card - we headed east with City of Rocks as our target destination. Along the way, we had a charmed facebook encounter with a friend from a previous life and met up for lunch in Twin Falls, Idaho. We also stopped for a visit to Shoshone Falls, a set of waterfalls that rival Niagara in terms of impressiveness.
There was a lake nearby - I relished the chance to take a dip and cool off. Then, a long drive into the middle of nowhere brought us to City of Rocks National Reserve. The rock formations were huge and hulking (they reminded me of Tolkien’s trolls) and probably would have been magnificent on a sunny blue sky day. If I was a rock climber, it might have been paradise. By our schedule, we should have camped there, but the eerie nature of the haze finally got to me. There was an isolation to the place that the smoke and heat magnified, and I couldn’t make myself do it.
It speaks again to Shawn’s awesomeness that he didn’t force me to stay, and instead cheerfully got back into the car. Maybe someday we’ll go back on a clear night; I’ll bet the stars are amazing.
As the sun beat down and haze hung over everything, we drove for what seemed like hours through dusty dirt roads in the fields of Idaho. We decided to head east to Logan, Utah, which would put us within a short drive of our next destination, and would offer the luxury of a shower at a hotel. That, and the pizza place we picked for dinner, was a good choice.
The next morning, we drove east again to the Bear Lake State Park area, right on the Utah/Idaho border, which was a surprisingly large and pretty lakeside community. Our spirits were low, I’ll admit, because that damn smoke…it followed us there, and it was our last day, dammit! We needed some miles under our legs. So, we found a relatively easy hike to a mountain lake that was supposedly a local favorite and seemed doable even in the haze.
The White Pine Lake Trail was just lovely. I’m so glad we decided to hike it, and to our joy, the smoke seemed to clear as we got further into the hike. The hike started at 8000 feet, and took us on a relatively easy ramble through wildflowers and quaking aspens and pine trees and mountain vistas. I and my flatlander lungs still had to work hard to breathe, so I don’t have a lot pictures, but I love this one of the pretty display of flowers at the side of the trail.
Just about the time I needed a break, the trail turned rather steeply downhill, and we followed the hoofprints of three horses/riders through the dust. It was a lovely trek through more wildflowers and with some impressive mountains looming in the distance.
And then finally, the lake appeared.
What a pretty, peaceful place. We struck out about halfway around the lake to find a spot for lunch, and enjoyed some beer and sandwiches while perched on a rock in the perfect mountain air. And I mean that! By this point, the haze had finally left us, and we got the blue skies and puffy clouds we should have had all weekend.
Then it was up the steepish hill to get out of the lake basin, and a nice easy descent back to the trailhead. I had a little scary moment when I slipped in the dust and wrenched my knee, but happily it held up and I made it back in one piece. Then it was back to Salt Lake City for dinner with a friend and a thankfully uneventful flight home the next morning.
It’s taken me a while to write this post because I’ve been trying to sort out how I feel about it all. I really wanted those mountain lakes and I really wanted to prove I could do that 19-mile trip. And I can’t help but feel that having what should have been an epic weekend in the mountains derailed by frickin’ wildfires in the middle of a never-ending pandemic is just so…2020. Or is it 2021? Who even knows anymore.
But things don’t always go as planned, and that’s ok. I’m choosing to think the universe had other intentions for us that weekend, and so I’m taking the gifts I was given. And they are considerable - traveling and being outdoors are luxuries that so many don’t have. Having an adaptable adventure partner who goes with the flow and finds amazing campsites by rivers is pretty awesome. Being given the chance to heal my knee and be in better shape for when the backpacking adventure really does happen - that’s a good thing. And at the end of the day, I’m just grateful for the ability to use my two legs to get me up and down whatever hills are out there.
Smoky trails
You make me want to go check these places out for myself! And your honesty resonates with me! Wish you still lived in Fayetteville so we could get top know each other better and hang out! 😊
Although challenged on many levels, you bring out the beauty and excitement about being outside. I cannot wait to hike a bit in October. Thanks for the inspiration and tour out West!