Browns Lake June 2016 - Day 4

The alarm went off at 5:15. We got one snooze.

And then it was time to go. We had agreed the night before that we would wait to eat breakfast until after the first crossing of the Little Queens. The crossing wasn't far from where we were camped and not taking time for breakfast would help us get going faster.

Good morning!

Instead of feeling slow and dragging, that morning I felt like moving. It was cold, which usually slows me down, but that morning it sped me up. The sooner I could be ready to go, the sooner I could get warm. So I moved.

We headed out less than an hour after the alarm had first gone off.

Racing to the Ninemeyer Junction before breakfast.

I had decided to try crossing the Little Queens wearing my long underwear, which I'd left on that morning for the extra warmth at the start of our hike. Since I didn't need them to be dry for that evening, I wanted to see if they made a positive impact on how I felt about walking through freezing cold water.

They were somewhat helpful, especially after I got out of the water, but my feet were still bare and freezing, so I don't think I'll be doing that again. At least, not in the summer. After we dried ourselves off, I went to get water for breakfast.

Early morning crossing. 

The problem with the breakfast solution was that after crossing the Little Queens we were on the side of the bank that would get sunlight last. The wind was still blowing and we had just gotten ourselves very wet with very little fuel inside us to warm up.

Even though breakfast was a delicious chocolate cheesecake thing, with Oreo cookie pieces, I was gulping it down for fuel more than I was enjoying the flavor. I was huddled around it, trying not to shiver as the wind tried to whip away my body heat. I was even wearing my gloves to eat, which I usually avoid because that tends to get food on my gloves. I did get food on my gloves but I wasn't as concerned because it was the last day and I wouldn't be spending another night in the wilderness.

Ambrose suggested that I could go all the way back to the car rather than waiting for him, as I usually did, at the next crossing of the Little Queens River. I thought about the level of the water, my own comfort level about crossing solo. And I've crossed that by myself before, for a solo hike. So I agreed. Anything that would let me keep moving until I reached the car. I could shut myself in the car if I was still cold by the time I got there, even turn on the heat.

As soon as I was done eating, I took off. Ambrose was ready about the same time, but I was going fast. I was so cold, and the only way I could warm up was to move. My toes felt numb and frozen, my hands weren't much better and I felt like the food I'd just eaten was cooling off my insides. I had to move.

I wasn't running. Quite. I got close to running speed. I may have bounded a bit. And I definitely wasn't as careful crossing streams as I should have been.

I was moving fast, but the sun wasn't catching me fast enough. 

The first stream crossing I took a step with my left foot that I should have taken with my right, because the rocks weren't balanced. When my balance shifted, the rocks did too and my foot slid. I could have gotten a dunking right there, but I got lucky. My foot stopped and I was able to push off and keep going.

I should have learned my lesson right there, but I didn't. I nearly repeated the exercise at the next stream crossing. Then I learned my lesson and took a little more time at all the stream crossings after that. But just a little more time.

I needed the sun!

This year, when I made an attempt at Lucky Peak for a training hike, I surprised myself with how far I made it up in my 2 hour time limit. On this hike, I shocked myself at how fast I was getting from one landmark to the next. Stream to stream, switchback to big hill, river approach to river crossing - all of it went by so quickly.

I did have a moment of panic when I approached the switchbacks down to Scott Creek. A crashing sound on the ridge above me made me gasp and look up. It was a young buck, who looked just as startled to see me as I was to see him. I regained control over my breathing and hiked on.

Oh, hello there.

I hustled when I reached the river crossing. I had a chance to make it back to the car in under 2 hours and I didn't want to waste a single minute. Every movement had purpose: take off gaiters, boots, socks, put on sandals, pull up pants, cross, reverse the process. Crossing done in 15 minutes. Less than 39 minutes to go before the 2 hour mark from when I left Ambrose. (I'd started my stopwatch as soon as I left him; he told me to start worrying if it hit 5 hours and he still wasn't back at the trail head.)

Easy stream crossing. 

As far as I could remember, 40 minutes was my best time from this crossing back to the car. I told myself even if I didn't beat 2 hours, I wanted to get as close as possible. I moved as fast as I safely could, only having a near miss at one of the two stream crossings. I don't know how many near misses I'm going to get before I end up dunked in a stream, but I've had plenty of them so far.

The water level was low enough for me to feel safe crossing the Little Queens. 

But it's still really cold. 

I left that stream crossing when my timer read 1 hour, 21 minutes. I got back to the trail head at 1 hour, 55 minutes, just after 9:30 in the morning. I'm not sure what my last best time was, but I am almost certain I blew it out of the water with a time of 34 minutes.

Ah, the sun. 

I drove the car to the campsite closest to the bathroom and settled in to wait for Ambrose to arrive. I walked over to the small campsite and took angry photos of the mess that someone had left there. I have nothing against horses, but when their owners decide that they should be placed in a campsite, between a picnic table and a fire ring, and then don't clean up the hay and poop covering the best spot for a tent in that site, I get a little perturbed. I finished drinking the contents of my water bladder that I had largely ignored in my speed bid. I basked in the sunlight and eventually changed into my clean driving home clothes. I read, and I waited.

Hey! This is a people campsite, not a horse corral. If you're going to use it for your horses, then, for goodness sake, please clean up the spare feed and poop when you leave.

Ambrose came walking over a little over an hour after I'd arrived. I got him out a coconut water to drink and started getting ready to drive home. We were going to be leaving the trail head before noon, which meant we'd be getting home around 3 instead of 7. 4 hours might not seem like it would make that much of a difference, but it did. We had time to stop for milkshakes on the way home and we stopped at the rangers station as well, because a car that had been there when we arrived on Thursday night was still there and there was no permit indicating anyone else was out there. Having that extra time to unwind made all the difference to my mood and I was able to go to work the next day and start the recovery process with a smile on my face.

Browns Lake June 2016 - Day 3

We weren't quite as leisurely this morning as we were the day before. We didn't have far to travel this day, but we also both wanted to get out of the miserably cold wind and down to a lower elevation for the relief that it might bring. I felt awful. So awful, that I was considering going all the way back to the car that day.

I kept that thought to myself while we ate breakfast and packed up our camp. Breakfast was granola. I had hot water in mine, even though it didn't have any milk powder like Ambrose's did. The hot water still made the granola warm and soft, which was nice. The same deer from yesterday wandered around outside our tent, getting closer and closer until she settled at a spot that I still thought was incredibly close.

Good morning, deer.

So close!

After we were packed up, I gave one last longing look to the snow covered approach to Browns Peak, and then we headed out. We stayed close together on the trail down from Browns. Even feeling ill, I still found myself having to stop and wait for Ambrose.

Ready to go and pouting.

Crossing the Little Queens wasn't as hard this time, but I still needed Ambrose to go first to show the way. I kept looking at my options and not seeing the easier ones.

Goodbye, Browns Lake.

The start of the Little Queens River.

Once we hit the trail junction and were back on the Queens River Trail, I asked Ambrose about going all the way back to the car. He vetoed that idea, and I grumbled but agreed. Then I was free to zoom ahead and zoom I did. If I couldn't go all the way back today, then I was at least going to get to our campsite as fast as possible and lay down.

A still reflection of blue sky.

Swath of green.

These sure look like violets to me, but I've never seen any in Idaho before.

The same trail that had taken us about 4 hours to get up only took me about 2 to get down. I spent some time sitting and recovering before I pitched the tent. This time it was a nice pitch, tight and snug. I was just getting ready to blow up my sleeping pad and get inside when Ambrose walked up. We're both faster going mostly downhill.

We split up at the junction.

Part of the trail has been washed out.

I'm not sure what these flowers are called, other than pretty.

He offered me the use of his sleeping pad and suggested I take some Benadryl and take a nap. I thought that was a great idea, so I did just that after eating lunch. It was a great plan, really it was. But it had a fatal flaw. I'd pitched the tent where it would catch a lot of sun, and the cruelly cold wind wasn't blowing down here. Inside the tent, I was baking, sweating all over Ambrose's sleeping pad even when I stripped down to just my underwear.

View down the valley.

Getting closer to the campsite.

I just couldn't fall asleep in the heat, even with the antihistamines. At one point I went down to the river to try and get cold so the heat in the tent would feel good. But there wasn't a good place for a dip in the river, and I couldn't get myself to lie down in water so cold. I compromised by prodigious splashing, but back in the tent, I was quickly hot again.

I did discover that the mesh in our tent is some kind of magical mesh. It doesn't keep all of the wind out, but it does keep some out, which I think is pretty impressive for mesh. The difference between sitting in the tent with the mesh doors shut and the mesh doors open is significant. Amazingly so. The more I use this tent, the more I know it was worth every penny we spent on it.

A little waterfall where we stopped for water on the way up.

By the time it was cool enough to spend time in the tent, Ambrose informed me that it was my turn to make dinner. My stomach was still feeling a bit off, and so I said I would, but I didn't want to eat any of the vegetable masala. I just wanted rice and Spam. He agreed, so that's what I cooked.

The view of our campsite area from above.

I made up the minute rice in the gallon freezer bag, and then set it in my hat to cook. I also tucked the Spam singles in the hat so they would get warm. That worked even better than I expected. The Spams were hot when the rice was ready to eat. I used a spork to slice them into the rice and had trouble holding on to them, because they were so slick with hot grease. I mixed everything up and Ambrose and I ate dinner.

Ah, the campsite.

Even he had to admit that I had cooked the best meal of the trip.

After that, we got ready for bed. The next morning was going to be anything but leisurely. We had to get to the car as quick as possible so we could get home with enough time to unwind.

Browns Lake June 2016 - Day 2

After the long and cold hike up to the lake, we allowed ourselves plenty of leisure to wake up the next morning. A deer walked around on the slope above us, teasingly close to the tent.

Though we had planned on trying to summit Browns Peak, there was too much snow on the our approach path to even make the attempt. The peak itself was clear of snow, which taunted me throughout the day, but all I had to do was look to the right to see, again, the reason why we couldn't go. We had neither ice axes nor crampons; to attempt a climb on snow and ice would be foolhardy and dangerous.

That would go completely against our motto of "safety fun."

Early morning water gathering view.

We shared a breakfast dessert of raspberry crumble. It was like hot raspberry jam with chocolate cookie crumbles. Delightful. Just what I needed after an extremely cold night. Especially considering the morning wasn't all that much warmer, even with the sun shining down.

We spent some time that morning just relaxing. We watched fish swim around in the shallow lake shore. I got water so I could get ready for day hiking.

Fish!

Ambrose wanted to explore the ridge behind us, and he wanted me to go around the lake a bit more and check out whether there was a camping spot. From our vantage, it looked like there might be a spot. Rocks and logs arranged in a circle tended to mean a rough campsite. So, once we were both ready for a little day hike, we set off.

Exploration time.

We headed for a little notch, rather than trying to go straight up. The notch led us to a draw, and we followed that up as well. Before long, we had reached the end of Ambrose's desire to explore, but I was still raring to go. I could see how close we were to the top of the ridge. Well, I thought I could. So I set off while he took a break. I reached the rocks that I was looking for, but they weren't the top of the ridge.

Paintbrushes.

However, I could see the top of the ridge, for sure this time. So I set off. It wasn't the highest point of the ridge, but I could reach it by crossing a muddy area and stepping over some snow. Ambrose had warned me not to walk on the snow up here because it might be cornices. So I avoided stepping on the snow.

Heading up.

Looking back over the lake. 

Heading to the edge of the bowl.

I reached a rock with a single dead tree piercing it. And I looked out on the valley below. I didn't even care about the wind that was blasting me in the face as I took it all in and took some pictures. I felt like I was on the prow of a great ship, exploring new territory, seeing something for the first time.

The valley below.

Panorama of the valley.

The tree I clung to while taking pictures of the valley.

I went back down to show Ambrose the pictures and tell him where I'd been. He had wanted me to go and explore another part of the ridge, but once he saw the pictures he figured I had seen what could be seen from the ridge. He headed back to the campsite back the way we came, and I headed back along a different route.

Tiny purple flower.

Ambrose wanted me to get a nice panoramic shot of the lake, and I thought having some height would help, so I moved towards the lake and found myself a vantage on some high rocks. I took a few shots and ate a piece of taffy to calm the rumbling in my tummy. It was time for lunch.

After lunch, I went around the lake. I had to walk close to the shore and get the outsides of my boots wet to get there, but it was a pretty easy hike, especially with my pack in daypack mode. I found the stones that looked like a campsite from the other side. The ground was far too sloped for it to be convenient for camping though. There were tons of mushrooms over here, and I scanned as carefully as I could for morels, but none were to be found.

Camping spot.

Purple flowers near the water. 

I tried to avoid the big piles of snow. It was still cold enough that I didn't want to chance getting wet.

A little too much snow for a summit attempt.

My goal was to find out if there was a way to get from this side of the shore to the far side, past a large triangle of rock. With a little steep hiking, it was perfectly possible. I stopped at the top of the rise and decided that if I stepped carefully, I could make it to the top of the triangle and get a nice view.

Looking back at Ambrose from the other side of the lake.

That was where I got the panorama that Ambrose wanted, and I also took a few selfies. I could see Ambrose down below and across the water at our campsite. He was watching for me and I waved to him. I could see in Browns Lake there were several places where reddish rock rose from the water, nearly breaking the surface.

Browns Lake. 

Selfie from the rock. 

When I headed back down, I was in a bit of dread about going back down the steep way I'd come. So I explored farther back and found that there was a gentler slope that I could take down. Why, I thought, hadn't I come up this way?

Browns Peak to the right of the left tree.

Then I got down far enough to see that I was heading to an area surrounded by snow. That was why.

A zoomed in shot of Ambrose watching me from across the lake.

There was a lot of snow.

I kick stepped up and over a few snow piles and made my way back to the lake. Then I walked around the shore and got back to camp and showed Ambrose my pictures.

Large mushroom under burned tree. 

Neither of us was feeling very well at this point. I wasn't sure what was going on, but Ambrose thought it was altitude that had us down. We spent the rest of the afternoon finding places to sit in the sun and out of the wind. I read and he watched the scenery (including me).

I retreated to the tent in the early evening and began munching out on my Reeses spread. Ambrose joined me in the tent to nap. The spread, and some Korean barbecue pork jerky, became dinner for the night and we agreed to hike down to the Scenic cutoff the next day. It would help us be able to get to the car earlier on the fourth day, and it would get us lower, which, if we were being affected by the altitude, should make us both feel much better.

I was feeling ill enough to go to bed early, but I was determined to get some pictures of the alpenglow. So I stayed up and read, waiting while the sun went down until Browns Peak was bathed in rosy light.

The start of the alpenglow.

Alpenglow reflecting on the lake.

The triangle of rock I climbed.