_edited.png)
Between Headwalls and Waterfalls
Was I waking from a nightmare or slipping into a lovely dream as soft footsteps fell beneath ancient cedars? After a summer in the shadows it was hard to tell. The vibrancy of moss and ferns along the trail was almost too much to bear. Serving as guide, the South Fork of Trout Creek led the way, tumbling, babbling and falling thousands of feet from its headwaters along the crest of the Montana-Idaho divide. It was stimulating in all the right ways, stirring my senses into the purest distillations of wild feelings. No amount of reality TV or Instagram during my sofa-bound summer felt quite so honest, real and true.
The last time I had been in the Great Burn Recommended Wilderness - two months earlier on what was supposed to be a three day trip - I made it a mile before my IT band declared ‘no more!’ I limped out and spent the rest of the summer on the couch engaged in a pyscho-emotional-phyiscal battle. My goal for this quick overnight trip was to simply get out and began building confidence in my body and mind. I had no specific photography objectives, just a need for some fresh air and subalpine wandering.
A couple of miles along the trail, a small cascade caught my eye. Dappled light broke through the canopy, variously spotlighting sections of the scene. I dropped my pack, grabbed my tripod and went to work framing up some shots. I consciously delighted in the experience. What a joy it was to be such a verdant place! A week earlier in the throes of depression, I had seriously threatened to sell all of my photography equipment and get a “normal job.” The person standing in the creek smiling at the light bore little resemblance to the person watching Married at First Sight. After some time with the falls, the living version of me packed up and continued up the trail to the night’s destination.
After passing a couple of parties at Heart Lake, I opted to head up to Pearl Lake. I espied the resident herd of mountain goats high on the cliffs between the two lakes. Nannies and kids galore! I expected to see them up close and personal sooner than later. I was pleasantly surprised to find Pearl Lake vacant. Within a half hour of making camp, a nanny, kid and a couple of two year old goats wandered in. As much as I love the fluffy cliff-hoofers, that particular herd is habituated to the max. Humans, to these goats, are nothing more than bipedal salt dispensers. Fortunately, they didn’t stay long, likely heading down to Heart Lake wehre the real action was.
A dissipating thunderstorm forced me into my tent as afternoon faded to evening. Reading was soundtracked by the patter of rain on the fly. Suddenly, my tent began to glow. A crack in the clouds had let the sun loose, resulting in a nice little rainbow. I snuck peeks of the bow under the edge of my tent as the rain fell. Eventually, after the rain turned to stars, I fell asleep.
A bank of dark clouds defined the western horizon in the morning. Some serious rain was coming. I packed up under dry skies and began the walk out. Within twenty minutes large drops began to fall. Well, not so much fall as pour. Nothing short of a rubber slicker could keep that kind of water from the skin. I lengthened my stride and quickened my pace. Still, I was all smiles.
There was a large tree over the road on the drive back to the highway (a good reminder to carry a saw). I put the Prius in park, got out and stared blankly at the obstruction. Huh. The tree had wedged perfectly between two narrowly spaced trees. I yanked. I pulled. No amount of either got the thing to budge. Forty-five minutes later a truck came by headed in the same direction. The driver, also sawless, joined me in staring blankly at the impasse. In the end, I stood on the tree, slightly compressing it, as he forced his lifted rig over it. He then attached a tow strap near the top of the fallen tree and pulled it with his truck, effectively creating a massive whip, so much force remained loaded in the trunk. His efforts opened up a gap just large enough to jettison the Prius through. A bit more gas and the top of the tree snapped, permanently opening up a small gap. We were free.
All told, I could not have asked for a better warmup backpacking trip. The IT band PT seems to be working and my confidence was greatly boosted. I can walk. I can backpack. I can photograph. I will not be selling my gear after all. My plan is to begin Wilderness to Wilderness sometime in the last half of September - when the atmosphere is clear enough to afford 100-mile views - with a trip to the starting point: Cabinet Mountain Wilderness.
Comments