Author: Bill

Cold and windy is what I can say about the last day. The night was fraught with violent storms. Once the tent blew flat across us and I had to go out and do some emergency securing of the guy-wire hooks. The first time I used those. We found slices of time in the morning to enjoy the brief visits of the sun. We did some major fuels reduction of the area by burning so much wood to keep the fire going. The winds made the fire resemble a blow torch. And just like smoking a cig the more air you pull across the embers the faster the thing burns.  Not that I like smoking. Or even like being around a dumb-ass that does.

The ride out was fantastic but we had to cancel the scheduled hikes about the alpine bowl. The sheep we saw the night before were still on the ridge hopping around. We even spotted some goats on the way down as well. Good weekend for viewing the alpine pros.

We popped out of the woods and loaded the team van for the trip back home. In 30 minutes we pulled up to the front door and that was that. Will there be another weekend to ride bikes? Seems the fatties are about to roll soon.

A sliver of morning sunlight to express the colors

It is smaller then it looks

Who is in the rears?

Riding around the lake from our campsite opposite of the way out

The trail coming down from Heather towards Emerald.

Approaching Emerald Lake

Some may have seen the post where we ran, er rode, into the discovery of the new recreation path around Hyalite Lake. On our way to base camp I noticed this new path crossing the road. So that next morning before we set forth on our accent to Heather Lake I snuck away for some Bill time. And “Bill Time” was successful because upon waking my partner said, “You did a 7 mile ride already”.

Frosty saddle

Second really damn cold ride of the season

Around the lake

If you would of asked us last Monday we would of told you that the following weekend we would stay home and rest. But then the forecast was saying sunny and warm. And so we committed to another bike packing weekend. Then the weather started to look shaky. But by then we had the momentum and we went for it anyway.

So suddenly there we were camped out at the base of the climb with a roaring fire. I cooked on the camp stove and Mr. Bear (our child … not saying that we are discrediting real parents) was providing the entertainment. The tent was up and all was good in our world. Tomorrow we climb … with 60 pound bikes.

Don’t get too close Mr Bear

Mr Bear joins us to provide the entertainment

Short weekends suck. You know … the ones where you get off work on a Friday and have to be back to work Monday? That is f*#@$ng short! Even though you get out of town after work, leaving on Sunday to get home really sucks. I really hate the 40 hour work week. It is ruing my life. Well, beyond that the fact remained that we needed to ride our shit down to the vehicle for extraction. Extraction from fun and into the big house of societal hell.

But that does not mean one can not have fun heading into hell. Right? And since hell, if one believes there exists such a place, we do not, is DOWN … well that is going to be fun.  My 50 pound bike launched off of root balls and broke the sound barrier on some dusty ridge line single track.  The ride down was a hoot.

The real adventure cyclist

Heading down towards Albino Lake

Mo coming across Dead Horse Ridge

Albino Lake Trail

The trail comes out at the dirt road

Arriving at Albino Lake

I woke up to prepare the surprise. As a consolation on sneaking out of the tent early I was greeted by a great sunrise. I got the card out of my pack and the cup decoy.

Whoa … backup. The day before I ran to REI to get a titanium mug for snuggles. Her old plastic REI mug was ready for retirement and this one would fit in her down tube bag. But they were completely out of stock. So I ordered it online and printed out a decoy to attach to her old mug.

Alright, why? Well 5 years ago on this day, September 11th, snuggles and I entered into a life *adventure. So I prepared the morning surprise. When I would call out “coffee is ready” she would come and find her mug with the decoy attached to it. I forgot tape so I used pine sap. Also a perfect placement of the card with some morning thoughts (proprietary) inside was necessary. I was ready.

“Coffee is ready”, I shouted towards a rustling sound in the tent.

Happy 5 year anniversary to the best *adventure partner on the planet.

*And by the way “adventure” might be the new cool word … but we made it cool.

Waking to a sunrise on the nearby walls

Sun rises over Lizard Lake Meadow

Snuggles with her cup decoy

Posing in front of sacrifice rock

Expand

Sphynix

Looking westward towards Shedhorn Mountain

Looking off the ridge above camp towards the two Lizard Lakes

Lizard Lakes from the ridge

Mo checks out a route down

This butterfly on his last legs

Contrasting fall colors

This overnight BikePack plan almost didn’t come to fruition. But the ride to Lizard Lake was the goal of the day none the less. At the very least we would do it as a out and back before retreating home to the safety of warmth of HOME. Watching your water freeze in front of me was not comforting either.

We arrived the night before and experienced a ten degree drop every hour before running to safety in the tent. I awoke in the night and the zipper was froze shut. That morning I built the biggest fire I could. The earliest morning hours were the worst. I took a gallon of water out of the cooler and set it on the table. It froze before my eyes with crystals forming first.

The sun saved the weekend; by noon it was warm enough to take off our puffies. And our old short term memories forgot we nearly froze to death. Well … “feels like”. So we chose to ride to Lizard Lake with 60 pound bikes instead of 23 pound bikes.  And it was worth it because we were rewarded with a warm up and sun. A beautiful day for an important weekend.

It was cold that morning

The initial climb to the trailhead

The trail to Lizard Lake runs along Dead Horse Ridge

The trail follows the wilderness boundary

Breaking out into Lizard Meadow

Lizard Lake Meadow

The Lake on a beautiful day

Woke up to a frozen tent and snow falling. I used bark from a dead white bark pine to get a fire going. We ate breakfast, or drank it in the form of bulletproof coffees. All the while watching the weather get worse and worse. By the time we finally packed the tent and bags it was a full on down pour. And it was cold. This was not fun and getting into a wet tent that evening sent even more chills down our spines. We bailed, bailed hard, and charged down into the valley to Sheridan. As I screeched to a halt on the edge of town I realized the epic-ness of the effort. We needed to climb 3,600 feet back into the snow laden mountains and back to our element. My bike looked like a sand sculpture after the mud grinding it took to get to town.

“Did you bring money or a card?”, I inquired of my epic-mate.

“No … did you?”

“No!”

And so the epic continued back up to Branham Lakes where our car awaited. I blacked out and went into epic mode … my partner the same … possibly her first time. No drama there, we made it, not that big of a deal. It just sucked. The rest of our 5 days off … drying out at home and sleeping. Part of our boring lifestyle as old folks.

AM at camp

Early fall at Noble Lake

Noble Lake the next morning

Cabin at Noble Lake

Mo taking photos as some clouds clear enough for us to see that snow had fallen during the night

Everything was wet when I woke up. After pouring all night all flammable materials were soaked. And to make things worse everything was frozen. I attempted to get the stove out of my bike bag but had to break the ice off the zipper. All hopes to get a fire started were dashed … but … a friend once said that just because something is impossible why not try it anyway.

I was able to find a dry old red needle branch under a sheltered pile of logs and decided to try breaking apart a old rotted log to find some dry chunks of wood. It worked. The fire was so nice we sat there drinking coffee and marveling at the view until noon.

Mustard Pass was ahead of us and I was excited to finally get going. it was so hard to put that morning fire out. We packed up and headed out. As we rolled our bikes back to the trail I froze in my tracks.

Griz poop that looked like it came out of a elephant. And since there was no elephants that ate pine nuts it was obvious a huge griz was checking us out the night before … or … even worse while we sat at the fire. Mo stuck her hand in it to find how long it had been there. Whew, …. last night. Stepping around the massive dump we continued down the hill shouting, “hey bear”.

Just as we got back to the trail I heard, “pedal down! pedal down!”. Holy shit, the pedal fell off again. This time I used my knife to whittle me a socket that would fit into the pedal. I might of been able to tighten the nut enough for it to stay on and we continued. Also I clean out all grease because the frigid temps was making it sticky and would back off the nit. We continued.

The ride up Mustard Pass was the pinnacle of the weekend, it did not disappoint. All rideable at some time I was forced off to walk on some rough and rutted sections. Standing on top of the pass we raised our arms in victory. That was pass number two of this trip

We bombed down the descent past Blossom Lake where we spotted some campers. the first humans we had seen in two days. We were not eager to socialize. We came out on Noble Fork atv trail. I pulled out the map and waited for my partner.

She prompted me for the time and I found my gps … holy shit, it was 4:30 PM. We usually look for camping spots around 5 but we were so far out of where we planned to be. By now we should of been in the Twin Lakes drainage.  A little tired from two days of climbing we decided to climb to Noble Lake and reassess in the morning. we were not as lucky as the night before as a heavy rain forced us into the tent early.

Morning Coffee

Rossiter Lake

Our camp on Rossiter Lake

Meadow towards Mustard Pass

Mo climbing strong

Mustard Pass switchies

Remember our bikes are 50 to 60 pounds with gear

Mustard Pass

Us …OxO

Noble Lake

We arrived after dark all grumpy from a week of work related bullshit. The weather reports did not look good. We did the best we could choosing this place because of all them this one would provide the warmest most pleasant weather. Which is not saying it would be nice at all. Just something we could survive … maybe.

The morning of departure was full of optimism. The sun came out and it was nice. Real nice. The big push out of the bowl and over the first pass was intensely hard but we had 5 days ahead and all was good. This was going to be fabulous.

As we approached the low part of day 1 we encountered our fist hurdle. A scrambled to find a place for a tent where one of us could rest while the other could get help ensued. We were as far away from help as one could get. After a hour of stressful assessment and trying remedies things finally worked out. The situation passed and we were able to remedy the issue. The call was to continue with the idea that we would cancel the trip if anything surfaced again.

We turned upward into the North Fork of Indian Creek and waited. The trail was so amazing we just continued and the danger of dying out there did not seem so possible. I have to say if the trail was not so fantastic we would of camped at the first meadow and rested … and waited. To see if the remedy would hold.

Then I heard my partner yell that her pedal fell off. A “Oh crap” panic entered my head as I pulled out all my tools. Another situation. Another reason we should just turn back. Being the tenacious folk that we are, or dumb, we decided to rig the pedal to stay on and continue. Damn if we were not going to at least stay out there for a day or two.  Even considering we were way into the boonies without seeing any other humans at all. No one goes this way I thought my self. It was going to be a LONG walk into Sheridan … a LONG walk.

But the pedal held and the trail was so amazing we found the intersection to Rossiter Lake and excitedly set up camp. This was going better then I hoped given all the diversity of the day. We were on track after overcoming a couple possible trip ending situations. Tenacious … yes. After a fire and supper we slipped into our tent just as the rain started and continued to pour throughout he night.

Branham Lake

The start of the Shindig

Starting out on non motorized singletrack is the best

We are going over THAT?

Thompson Pass, the first pass of the ride with Bell Lake in the backdrop

High point

A tail of two lakes

Should we do Thompson Peak?

Thompson Meadows

Thompson Reservoir left the building

Thompson Lake went missing

Cabin on South Fork Indian Creek

Our weekly ride this week was our yearly tackle of the Shafthouse Ride. Most people do it from the valley to the north but we like to start by rising up the Fairy Lake 4WD trail. Super steep in places but once on top it is totally worth it. And this week was the first finish in the dark ride of the season. Yep … it’s fall folks. And what better time to plan for a new addition …o/o

Mo crossing Fairy Creek

Fairy Lake

Shafthouse Trail Loop Scene

Hardscrabble Ridge

Us …OxO

Sacajawea Peaks

Frazier Peaks

Exit day started out fantastic but ended with another mauling of our friend Paul. I found a way to grind coffee with a ball jar and a makeshift stake hammer (a branch). And I created this fantastic idea to ride to the next riding spot and have Mo drive the vehicle out. Our plan … the exit ride … or maybe officially the Brownback Gulch Ride to end our weekend.

And maybe we should of shuttled Paul to the top … but … continuing with my string of bad plans this weekend I figured he would like the massive climb to the top of the gulch. Bad idea. Afterwards my partner said once again, “we did it again … we killed our friend”.

Sorry Paul …o/o

Morning at camp

Mo coming out of Brownback

So leaving off with my last post I pointed out that even though my friend Paul seemed to be having difficulty with the altitude it was I who was the loser. For having left the coffee grinder at home if I need to remind the reader. So day 3 was the same thing. Except I added to it a complete blow up and a good smashing of our camp stove lighter. I was simply not going to let go of the fact that I was a complete idiot. Snuggles stepped up and made breakfast.

We took the day as a rest day so I went down to the creek to losing my hat in the creek and then discovered weird creatures attached to stones in the creek. All seemed to be waiting to wake up from some kind of state to take over the world. I tried to warn the others by throwing my can of water against a tree and throwing tether tantrum number 3 of the day.

After that we took a ten mile leisure hike up to Lake Louse and managed to grab enough firewood to take back to camp. It was this wood we lit on fire to warm me up to having fun. Good food and good company is enough to turn your day around.

A waterfall just up the road from camp

Some waterfalls up from camp

Thing

Lake Lousie

Coming out of Lake Louise

Firewood hauler

I woke up the next morning to discover that I had left our coffee grinder at home. An adventure without fresh coffee in the morning? Unacceptable and the worst part is that it affected everyone. I was the loser of the day. The outcast. The numb-skull. Luckily my partner solved the crises by borrowing some ground coffee from a nearby camp of fellow mountain bikers.

The decision, I think, was to do the ever popular Curly Lake Trail. Medium in length but dramatic in every sense of the word.  Not really too hard but lots of loose rock. We all went at our own pace with my partner charging up the first climb. We all gathered at strategic locations, Westphal Park, Curly Lake, and the such.  After a bit of a rest, or a  … what … nap, we would head out again to breath as much air as we could.

Right at the saddle before the high point I caught up to Mo and together we climbed to 10,080 to soaked up the panorama. Back down on the saddle near a cairn we spotted Paul. We shouted. He raised a fist … later we think it was the finger. Then he collapsed. We went down to his aid trying not to act to concerned. Seemed he was due for another nap maybe, right?

“We are doing it again” Mo said, “We are killing Paul.

“I know … shit, just like last year”

Acclimatization to high altitude is not simple folks, Paul is from New York, and there are a bunch of effects. It is not all fun and games. An increase in red blood cells and thicker blood. This can decrease the amount of oxygen getting to where it is needed. The biggest thing is that you can not just exercise at a high level day after day. Mo and I live here and don’t realize it as much. Actually I know I cant hammer around every single day.

All was well with a little rest every now and then. For me the downhill so much fun. It did become apparent to us though that we were running out of day and light. And so we cut the journey short and came out just shy of the full loop. Once on the road I gladly rode up to drive back a sag wagon. Still an epic day?  Damn right.

Paul rockets down the other side of Westphal Park

The group rests and meets other trail racketeers

Paul coming up #159

Looking back to Curly Lake

Mo on top of the world

Killimanjaro what?

Us

Ruby on top of the world

Coming off of the unnamed 10,059 foot summit

Ouch!

Break on through the other side I think is the phrase

Paul drafting Snuggles

Crossing McGovern Creek

Ruby on vacation

It took a day to get out there and set up camp. Soon enough with little time remaining we were awarded the chance to go mountain biking. The group, well, was not particularly into this activity as much as I. Evidence being some peeling off from the “lets just take a look up this road’ ride. Down to 2 I scammed my way into what I really wanted. To see how far we could ride towards Sailor Lake.  I knew that if I suggested it from the outset ‘we’ would be an ‘I’, alone.

So that is why I was glad ‘I’ were a ‘we’ when a bear appeared on the trail. And after that some teen punks shooting over our heads as a response to, “hey there are bikers down here”. After ducking down in an old abandon building until the gun fire calmed we skirted by the punks and rode up to the lake. Festivities followed including a snack in the evening sun.

And then the bomb back to camp to rejoin the group for a first night camp fire complete with stew-lash and beer.

An old miners cabin on the way to Sailor Lake

Sailor Lake

Ruby in the flowers

Us

Warming

Night’s festivities

Paul Bardis

Snuggles

Eeek! Sparks … My coat, my coat!

We came out the same way we went in. Some differences though. It was dark for one. A real surprise there. And even though one could not see our hands they were stained dark purple. What ensues the days after reflected our journey’s bounty. Muffins … pancakes … and iced cream of beef gelatin (our ice cream).

I stopped half way up to lift the bike over a log. We were making good time but needed to keep up the pace to make the Pass before sunset. Then I spotted them. Little decorative balls hanging from familiar branches. Huckleberry branches. Then my senses kicked in and the smell of delightful berries lofted my way.

Mo found me gathering and quickly joined me. We still made the pass. But the sun was setting when we gained it. And going back was a little dim. But in our bikepacking bags were loads of tiny little nutrient pills.

Another route and another spectacular adventure with a twist … a huckleberry twist.

She’ll be coming round the trail marker when she comes, she’ll be coming round the corner when she comes, she’ll be coming around the…

Ross pass is just around the corner

The hills are alive with the sound of fat tires

End of the trail

Us

A trail runs through it; yeah I know I am really wearing that phrase out