Memorial Day Backpack - Days 2 and 3

Saturday morning was relatively dry, at least when I woke up. There were clouds in the trees, and clouds obscuring nearby ridges and far away mountains. Clearly the kind of day to hole up in the tent. 

Ambrose cooked us up some breakfast, and we both had to leave the tent to answer nature's call before the rains came back. 

The tent was not the most comfortable it's ever been, not because of the rain outside but because of the moisture accumulating on the inside of the tent from the condensation of our breathing. Every time I sat up, my head would get wet. Or whatever I had over my head at the moment, my hood or my balaclava. 

Rain fell on and off through the morning and afternoon. When it rained, we stayed in the tent, and when it stopped, we left if there was a need. But mostly we just spent the time cozied up in the tent. Staying warm and hydrated as best we could. I filmed a few minutes of rain falling on the tent roof, but I can't upload them here because the files are too big :( 

I debated putting on my day clothes and decided I'd rather just keep my night clothes on. I wasn't going to be hiking anywhere, and the night clothes are just so warm. 

I did take off my heavy layer in the afternoon when the sun broke through for a brief while, but I basked in the warmth, while Ambrose enjoyed switching over to day clothes. He also made some forays around our campsite and found a single morel mushroom. He left it, figuring we'd see more the next day. 

The nice afternoon didn't extended into the evening, and we were back to clouds as the sun sank down below the ridgeline. We had a quiet evening after eating dinner, with periodic rains. 

The next morning, I woke up way too early, and I felt cold. I ate some snacks, and tried to get warmed up, but I was already wearing all my warmest clothes. There wasn't much more I could do. And there was copious condensation inside the tent, which was unpleasant. 

I read a bit and thought about how to get warmer. Ambrose finally caught on that I was not comfortable and I admitted to being too cold. I thought maybe we could wait for a break in the weather or later in the morning when it might be warmer to head back to the car a day early. 

Ambrose pointed out that it was only going to get colder and we should head out as soon as possible. I had to go dig a hole, and when I came back, I couldn't agree with him more. Nothing like being snowed on in May to convince me to head back to the car. 

So we had to get all packed up, while trying not to get too wet in the slushy snow that was falling. Ambrose valiantly volunteered to swap the food bag for the tent, which meant that I could get all packed up inside the tent, while he would have to finish packing in the rain - and carry out a soaking wet tent. I was very grateful, even if the food bag did weight a bit more than the tent. 

We got down to the business of hiking pretty quickly, and made our way back to the trail. From there, it was a simple matter of following the trail back to the car for two miles. Right? 

Well, not quite. See, on the way out, we'd done a boots off crossing for a particularly swollen creek. Now, when Ambrose did his quick hike to get a sleeping pad, he'd discovered that there was a possible log crossing, but he expected the log he used to be underwater after all the rain we'd had. And so our plan was to just hike through the creek with our boots on, and finish the hike in wet boots. 

On the way back to the trail, Ambrose showed me where he had found the morel, but it was now gone. Most likely some animal had eaten it. So our morel haul for the year was zero again, sadly. 

Once at the trail, we hiked quickly. The snow faded back to drizzle as we reached lower elevations, but we could see snow capping nearby ridges (far ridges were completely obscured by clouds). Before too long, we came upon the creek crossing. Oh, I didn't want to do it!

Ambrose went through first, right into the cold water. I lengthened my trekking poles, possibly as a delay tactic, and then squealed in anticipation before I made the plunge. 

So cold. And the water was flowing very fast, coming up to my knees and pushing me downstream. But it was almost worse when I got out. My boots were soaked along with my socks. My gaiters somewhat protected my pants, but I was just wet. I had to keep hiking at a good pace just to keep warm. 

The next stream we had originally crossed on a log, but now we just went ahead and walked through it. The log was slick with rain and we were already soaked anyway. 

I'm so glad that the hike was short. We reached the trail head before too long and split up. The plan was that I would go to the car while Ambrose went to the pit toilet. I got in the car's backseat, which was folded down, and changed out of my wet clothes as fast as I could, knowing Ambrose was waiting in his wet clothes for me to bring him dry ones. 

It felt so good to put on dry clothes!

I drove over to the pit toilet and backed the car up to it so Ambrose would have easy access to the trunk. He got his clothes and changed in the shelter of the pit toilet. Then we boiled up some water to make a meal before we drove home, Peak Refuel Biscuits and Gravy. After the cold hike, the warm food was perfection. Before too long, I was ready to start the drive home. 

I was actually pretty nervous driving through the rain, but it was nice that Ambrose trusted my driving enough to nap as I navigated the twisting, narrow dirt roads. 

Clouds in the forest.

The mist ate up the views.

I couldn't get enough of those low hanging clouds.

Ambrose took advantage of a break in the rain to look around.

Even the small stream near our campsite was swollen.

Time to get outta here!

That's a lot of water.

Ambrose in the lead.

Oh that water was soooo cold!

Higher elevations clearly were getting snow.

The water level of the Queens River was actually lower than when we hiked out. I theorized the cause was freezing temperatures at the higher elevations reduced water flow - a bit. 

Memorial Day Backpack - Day 1

As is our tradition, my husband and I went out for a backpacking trip. We used to do car camping at the Queens River Trailhead, but after several years of having to share that site with folks who were more interested in drinking and shooting than enjoying the quiet beauty of nature, we switched over to backpacking out just a few miles into the wilderness for Memorial Day. We've got a good spot that is out of sight of the trail, and we have yet to see any other people come near it. 

This year, the weather conspired additionally to keep most people away. There was going to be rain, and a lot of it, though we had hope for some dry windows to allow us to set up the tent and get situated. I took a day off of work so we could drive up on Friday morning. The original plan was to eat lunch at the trailhead and then hike out, but we got there before 10 in the morning, well before it was time to eat lunch. 

And so we came upon the first forgotten piece of gear for the trip. We expect to forget some things on the first trip of the year; that's part of why we only go out a couple miles on this trip so we can figure out what we're forgetting. This time, it was the trailhead cook pot in which we had planned to cook this lunch and a lunch on Monday. Luckily, it was easy enough to switch over and use the backpacking pot to get our lunch cooked. And since it was just Minute Rice and chicken, we put it in a gallon baggie and packed it out to eat once we got hungry. 

I grabbed the car shovel from its place in the bin, and shoved it in with my pack. That's my big indulgence for this trip, a shovel that's heavy but big and makes digging a hole super easy. I still had my trowel fastened to my pack, but I planned to use the shovel. Especially with the rain, I'd rather spend less time digging. 

Once Ambrose got lunch cooked up, and I finished filling out our permit, we were ready to go. Ambrose volunteered to carry the lunch, and we hoisted our packs. As always, they seemed way heavier than they had when we weighed them at home. It's just that our shoulders aren't conditioned for them yet. That's another reason to have an early season backpacking trip. 

We had managed to find a break in the weather, so while the ground was damp, we were able to hike without being rained on. There were some downed trees across the trail near the start, and Ambrose said he thought the Idaho Trails Association had just cleared the trail. I clarified that they'd done the Little Queens trail last year, not the Queens trail where we were hiking. 

As we hiked, we chatted a bit. It's not too unusual for me to get chatty on the trail, even though it can be hard to hear and make oneself heard when walking in single file. But Ambrose pointed out to me that he was chatting and doing so with ease. I hadn't noticed, but I knew this was new behavior. I remembered feeling bad a few times for asking him to speak and hike at the same time because he looked like the effort pained him. But now he was initiating conversation. The weight loss journey has been difficult and had its ups and downs, but the rewards are just enormous and go beyond what is seen on the scale. 

We had a relatively low snow winter, and so we weren't expecting there to be high water levels. But it had been raining for a few days, and we encountered the highest water levels on the creeks we crossed that we had ever encountered. I remember the very first time we hiked this trail, the water was fairly high, and we ended up having to turn back because the trail was essentially lost in a bog (it's since been rerouted to higher ground). This time, there were five flowing streams, some of them flowing along the trail, in the space that we would usually encounter just two. 

One of the creeks was running so fast and deep that we decided to do a boots off crossing rather than risk crossing on one of the wet logs that could have provided a makeshift bridge. I was eager to try out my new Xero sandals as crossing shoes anyway. I mean, not so eager that I wouldn't have done this if I didn't absolutely have to... the water was freezing cold, and I was about to cross it essentially barefoot. 

After we finished the cold crossing, we sat down to put our boots back on and decided to eat some lunch as well. Well, Ambrose started to eat. I had to go dig a hole first. And when I got back, I thought I'd be hungry, but I wasn't. I only ate a few bites and then we hoisted the packs and continued hiking. 

I thought we might have reached the right spot fairly soon after that, but Ambrose disagreed and when we reached the small meadow, I knew he was right. But we were close, and I was pretty sure I saw our landmarks. Sure enough that I stopped on the trail as Ambrose continued on until he turned to see what I was doing. I explained I thought we'd passed the turnoff, but again he disagreed and we kept going. 

But then we reached Kid Creek, and I was adamant that our spot was on this side of that particular creek. I convinced Ambrose to follow the creek up a bit, where we found a decent camping spot that looked like it has been used, perhaps by hunters over the winter. And then we angled back to the trail and I pointed out where I thought we should head to get to the aspens that we camp near. Ambrose reluctantly agreed to follow me, and I led us to our spot. 

We decided not to pitch where we had in the past, because it was fairly low, and might flood. Plus, there was recent elk sign and we didn't want to be where they wanted to be. So I spent some time looking around for a good spot. I wasn't sure I'd find one, because the last spot had been chosen out of necessity at the time. But I did find a spot that would work. It would be a bit tilted, but not so badly that we'd be sliding all over the place. And it was mostly out of reach of any nearby widowmakers. 

I was about a quarter of the way through staking the tent when Ambrose announced that he could not find his sleeping pad. I was shocked, to say the least. The sleeping pad was essential equipment and it was very much not like Ambrose to forget it. Plus, I'd seen him take it down to pack earlier in the week. I had a clear memory of it, because I noted at the time that he wasn't pulling my pad down for me, which made sense because I wouldn't be packing until days later. So that was our second forgotten item. 

Ambrose could not sleep out in this weather without the sleeping pad. The sleeping pad provides vital protection from the heat-sapping powers of the ground. In an emergency, we could probably have figured something out to keep him warm enough, though not necessarily comfortable. But this was not really an emergency. Not since we'd recently purchased foam pads for car camping and left them in the car. I had thought about suggesting that we bring those pads into the apartment, but decided against it. And so now, a sleeping pad for Ambrose was a mere two miles away. 

In past years, I might have volunteered to go and get the pad myself, saving him the journey. But there was never any question of that this year. Ambrose has lost enough weight to get off all of his blood pressure medications, and one of the many benefits to that is that he was absolutely ready to hike another four miles - especially since he wouldn't need to bring his pack. 

He set off while I continued to stake the tent. Since we'd be spending a lot of time in it, I decided to find a Y shaped stick to help elevate the part of the tent over our heads. Once I had that set up, I finished tightening the stakes and put all our stuff into the tent, ready to dive inside and hide if it were to start raining. I passed the time by finishing the lunch Ambrose had kindly left me and reading once my chores were done. It was cozy inside the tent, but I got antsy about Ambrose being gone and spent some time reading while sitting on a large log. Not the best idea, since the log was a bit damp, but I survived. 

Ambrose got back right on time. He had only been back a little bit before the rain started up and we settled into the tent, making sure that all the lines were tight enough to keep the rain from flowing into the tent. Though the pitch had a very low ceiling, the rain stayed on the outside. 

It rained on and off through the afternoon and into the evening. While it was cold and wet outside, inside the tent it was warm and dry. Well, warm inside the quilts. The air in the tent was pretty cold, it's got mesh doors after all. But I was warm enough to sleep, and that's what mattered. 

Ambrose is ready to go.

The Queens River running high . . .

. . . in both directions.

Ambrose hiked in front at a nice pace.

I don't often get shots of these squirrels.

That's the trail, not a creek.

Also trail.

That's a creek crossing I don't want to mess with.

Luckily, we didn't have to on that one.

The next creek was even more swollen.

We took the cold way. Also the safe way.

We've never seen so much water on the trail.

A decent pitch for rain. 

I was shocked to see that a tick was out in the cool weather.

Car Camping on the Middle Fork

The weekend was supposed to be rainy, and that was actually good news for us. When there's rain in the forecast, it doesn't always come, but it always prevents at least some people from coming out into the woods! 

We didn't have a campsite selected before we set out. The idea was simply to drive along Middle Fork Road until we decided it was time to stop. We weren't going to go all the way to Atlanta, but we were open to exploring past our usual spots. 

The clouds were incredible on the drive out.

I was following our route on Gaia GPS, and I saw a place where there was a spring, near Alexander Flat. The spring wasn't specified as hot, so I figured it probably wasn't, but at the same time, I wanted to check. Loftus hot spring had been, predictably, very occupied, so I was hoping to find another hot spring to take a soak in. 

The water level at Arrowrock Dam is really low for this time of year.

More awesome clouds.

Inaccessible hot spring - and no pool. 

More inaccessible hot springs across the river.

And as we slowed to look for the water, I saw a camping spot. There was another site occupied in the general area, but decently far away, with some trees for concealment. The site was undeveloped, so no pit toilet, but it was also quite pretty, for a car camping spot. We parked and walked around a bit, exploring the area before I put up the tent (Ambrose drove, so I put up the tent). 

A fire ring is a sign of a developed site, though we wouldn't be using it.

Ambrose helped bring things into the tent after I pitched it.

After that, we went looking for the spring, hiking up a bluff to find that it was just a normal, cold spring. Pretty, but nothing to take a dip in. Then we just chilled. I read the entirety of Cougar Dave: Mountain Man of Idaho, 1855-1936, and started on another book while the rain visited us intermittently. It never really stormed, but there were several showers - live versions of one of our favorite YouTube videos - 10 Hours of Rain on a Tent. 

Ambrose looks for the spring.

This is pretty much it.

The next day, we got up in a leisurely fashion and headed home. I was driving, and I decided to pull in at Sheep Creek and take a look at the hot spring there. I've never actually used that hot spring, because every time I go there, there's no pool worth using. Too shallow or too cool for my tastes. 

This year was no exception. 

There was a pool of decent depth, but it was very close to the river and hardly warm to the touch. The higher pool had heat, but no more than two or three inches of water. Ambrose tried to build up the outflow to make it retain more, but we didn't have the tools for the job, and I wanted to get home. 

On the drive out, we had to wait for some guys trying to turn boat trailers around, but they did let us pass once it became clear that we could travel faster than they could. Minorly irritating, but then something really cool happened. As we slowed to allow another driver to pass us by coming the opposite direction at a good passing point, they slowed as well and lowered their window. 

A man leaned out and asked us if we could tell him how to get to a camping spot, how far he should keep driving. I gave him enthusiastic instructions - for an official campsite, I recommended Badger Creek or Willow Creek and for dispersed, drive past the bridge past Twin Springs and pick a spot you like. It was a nice cap to a nice weekend. 

Snowventure!

I like snow. I'm always jonesing for some real winter snow here in Boise, and rarely am I fulfilled. Even on the few days each year where we might get some accumulation, most of the time, I have to be at work those days. I can't go outside and play. 

But this year, Boise's snow arrived on a Friday and lasted all the way through Saturday and even a bit of Sunday before the melting began in earnest on Monday. Friday, I had to work, but I got to be remote and avoid driving on the snow covered streets. Yay! I mean, I know how to drive on snow and my husband knows how - it's the other drivers I'm worried about. 

I didn't get out in it on Friday, but on Saturday, after lunch, I took a walk in the snow, a stroll through the falling flakes and fluffy piles of winter wonderland - after I put on proper gear, of course, heavy fleece lined pants, big ol' down jacket, warm hat, gloves and boots (everything but the boots belongs to Ambrose, I just borrowed it). 

That's a lot accumulation on our mailbox! 

I was absolutely overflowing with joy. I was grinning like a maniac and I didn't care who saw me (to be fair, I only encountered a few other pedestrians and several passing cars). The air was cold, but moist. The air was full of varying levels of falling, crystalized water. It was perfect. 

Okay, it could have been better if I had a sledding hill nearby. And a sled. During the great Snowmaggedon of 2016, we tubed down a small hill during lunch at work. That was a blast, but I wasn't quite as joyful, because I was around people I work with, and I keep somewhat of a façade up there. 

I made my way to a nearby park that I reach by crossing a small pedestrian bridge, now transformed into a glorious snow tunnel as the low hanging branches drooped even lower with their heavy coats of snow. I had to get down and squat/crawl to get inside the tunnel. Once inside, I'm short enough that I was able to stand, but I had to go down again to get out the other side. 

"Only the penitent man will pass"

The pond at the park was not frozen over, though the banks had skims of ice (under which I saw some trash and was disappointed I couldn't get to it to pack it out). I saw geese and coots on the water. 

Coots in the snow.

The main roads never got too bad, but side streets were socked in.

I tried making snow spiders instead of snow angels. But I think my efforts turned out more like snow scarabs (6 legs plus 2 antennae). 

I was lying in the snow, contemplating my snow spider plan, when a guy walked by with a dog. He didn't pay attention to me, so I don't know if he was ignoring me because I was acting weird or if he legit didn't see me. I mean, I was acting pretty weird, because the first rule of snow spiders if you have to do it face down. 

Not that I was putting my face into the snow - I improvised the head part using my hands instead of giving myself a whitewash. 

Yep, that's pretty deep.

First snow spider attempt.

The ducks and geese really stomped this snow down!

Last snow spider attempt.

Although Saturday is typically my rest day from exercise, I got a good workout with that snow stroll. The snow wasn't deep enough to really posthole, but it was at least a half posthole all through the parts that hadn't been shoveled. The paths on the park had been, but there were about 4 new inches on the paths so they were just less work, not no work. 

After I walked home, I stayed outside a bit longer. I didn't want to lose the sensation of utter joy that I'd been intensely feeling. I lied down on the snow, face up this time, and watched the sky. 

Snow spiraling down, appearing as if by magic out of the gray sky. Snow covered tree limbs dancing gently in the breeze, dripping white when breeze turned to wind. Cold droplets on my cheeks, running down my face. Glasses slowly getting cold enough to collect snow. I could have stayed there a long time. 

So. Much. Joy.

Stone kitty, nice and dry.

I went inside though, and let my husband know a yeti had not gotten me. I warmed up with a hot shower, and wondered when I would next get to experience the snow like that.