Diary Of A Hike - The Wind River Mountains Of Wyoming

by Terry Ziehl

It was Saturday, July 24, 1999. We had just arrived at the Dickinson Park campground in the Shoshone National Forest. Specifically, the Wind River Mountains of Wyoming. Elevation at the campground is 9300'. After a couple of cold beers, we got the tent set up and the sleeping bags and pads were set for the night. I was cooking elk steaks, along with some huge baked potatoes, on the grill, and let me tell you, they smelled great. We were only a mile from the trailhead, which we would depart from in the morning.

Ben, he was so excited about walking with us. After all, this was his first time out. Ben is 20 years old and is dating the daughter of a friend. The friend is 49 and his nickname is Rip. (You figure it out). There were two other regular walkers with us, Jim, who is also 49, and Gordon, who is 45. What? Me? I am 39. I am the guy who keeps the others feeling young.

Ben, he was so inquisitive and full of questions. He wanted to know everything; How far in? How much will everything weigh? What food is good and what is bad? Will there be snow? Will there be bears? How big are the fish? On and on he went. There wasn't a question that he didn't ask. He was just like a little kid on Christmas Eve. I'd be willing to bet my new boots that he didn't sleep a wink that first night, especially since he was sleeping next to Rip. When Rip snores you would think there was a couple of bear cubs wrestling in the tent with you.

Sunday. After a good breakfast, we all got packed up and were ready to go. As always, we split the community gear evenly among everyone. This was going to be a light trip for me. I only had to carry a tent. It was nice having an extra person to split the gear with. It was also nice not bringing the 44 mag along. We all weighed in, I was only 53 pounds this year, compared to 70 pounds the first year I went with these guys. Jim, as usual, was the lightest at about 45 pounds, Rip and Gordon about 60 and of course, Ben, was over 65 pounds. The new guy always brings more than needed. But what the heck, he's young, he can handle it.

We were off. The first day would be relatively easy. The elevation gain would be from 9300' to 10,500', and about 5 miles in was a nice little camp site only about a quarter mile off the trail. We had water close by and snow for the whiskey. (Medicinal purposes only)

Ben, trying to keep up with Rip, started to cramp up on the last stretch over Adams Pass. Not wanting to let in to Rip, he pushed on. The rest of us, knowing that you don't try to keep up with Rip, plodded along at our own slow pace. We felt great when we got to camp. Ben, he had that look about him. You know, the one that says; What in the hell am I doing here with these guys, and how come these old guys feel so good when I feel like S-T!

While I was clearing the pinecones and sticks from the spot where I was going to set my tent, Gordon reached down and picked up a beautiful little arrowhead made of slate. We now knew that this was going to be a spiritual walk. The ironic thing was I set this same tent on the same spot in 1997. How many hundreds of years had that arrowhead been there? Too spiritual.

Monday. Today was going to be great, 3 ½ miles to the top of Bears Ears Pass (11,800') and another 3 ½ miles to Dutch Oven Lake (10,600'), if we stayed on the trail. We all felt good walking that day. Ben finally figured out that his pace was better for him than Rips. As we approached the top of Bears Ears Pass, we all knew what was ahead, so we kept a keen eye on Ben. When he crested over the top and saw the spectacular mountains, crystal clear lakes, and the green carpet of pines, his jaw about fell into the sea of wild flowers that were at his feet. He looked like that little kid on Christmas morning that had just gotten that brand new shiny bike he had always dreamed of. Yup, Ben was now beginning to realize why we go through what we do on these walks. He had never seen anything like this in his life. But, after all, he had never been much more than a mile off any road before either.

After about an hour of studying the map and pointing out all the different lakes and mountains to Ben, not to mention enjoying the view while sipping on that medicine bottle. It was decided that we would get off the main trail and bush whack down to Dutch Oven Lake. The way down was a bit steep, but it saved about 2 ½ miles of trail. We found a real nice place to camp on the south side of Dutch Oven on a nice knoll overlooking the lake.

After getting the camp set up, the next chore was pumping our usual 7-½ gallons of water. That is what we go through in any 24-hour period. Looking down on the walk to and from the lake, the thought of carrying a 40ish pound jug of water up the hill was not very inviting. After looking around, we found a nice little snowfield with water running out of it, just 50' from camp. After a bit of discussion, and debate on the finer aspects of engineering, we built a nice little dam out of rocks and moss that worked great. We had to wait to let it fill, but for the next three days our little irrigation project worked perfectly.

Ben, Rip, and Jim decided it was time for a dinner of fresh fish. After all, the lake was boiling with the tastiest of Brook Trout. Gordon and I stayed in camp and got the firewood gathered up for the evening campfire and star gazing session. Dinner consisted of au gratin potatoes and fresh trout for everyone. And yes, everyone did get the required dosage of the medicinal liquid after dinner.

We knew we would have a full moon for the entire week, but since it took so long for it to get over the mountain, we had some fantastic star gazing sessions. While we were sitting around the fire, a cow elk decided to walk right through our camp, shortly after that we had a snowshoe rabbit that thought he would try to get in one of the packs. He didn't succeed. Although he looked tasty enough, we did decide to let him survive.

Tuesday. We decided we should take Ben over to the South Fork Lakes and show him the scenery. The southern end of South Fork Lakes is surrounded by this enormous cirque, along with some really large snowfields. As a matter of fact the Cirque of The Towers (COTT) is on the opposite side of where we would be. To the east of South Fork Lakes, the Lizard Head Plateau stands guard over you. On the plateau is the Lizard Head Trail, which leads to the COTT. For those of you who do not know, the COTT is a world famous area for climbers.

We had told Ben stories of this lake and described the fish to him, so he was bound and determined that he would catch them. It was frustrating to Ben at first, because he could see these monsters swimming around, looking at his fly and just shrugging it off. Ben, he was quite persistent though. While we soaked our feet in the cold snow-fed water, he stuck with it. After quite a while and a variety of flies, he finally did hook in to one of the monsters. After fighting the thing for a number of minutes, it was successfully landed. 20 inches and about three pounds, honest! We got the pictures taken, the fish revived and then released back to the lake.

Ben, he was so excited, again. This was the largest fish that he had ever caught, and we showed him where to catch it. This, he said, made the whole trip worth while. Before we left back for camp, it was decided that everyone looked a little worse for wear and needed another small dosage of the medicine on hand. Ooooohhh yeahhhh! It tasted soooo gooood!

On the way pack to camp I decided to stop off at Valentine Lake and check out the water. Elevation of the lake - 10,500', water temp - 50 degrees ± 5 degrees. Perfect for a bath. Or so I thought. Remember that episode on Seinfeld, the one about shrinkage? Whooooeeeee! After getting dressed, and getting things back in order, I ran into Jim and Gordon on the trail. After realizing I no longer smelled of that Eau De Deet cologne, they decided a bath was in order for them also. I was only a couple of minutes down the trail when I heard that oft-familiar splash, followed by that breathless scream. (Big smile) Well two more fresh bodies in camp, only two more to convince how refreshing the water was.

Upon arriving back to camp, it didn't take Rip and Ben very long to figure out that I had bathed. You guessed it. It didn't take too much to convince them either that the water was soooo refreshing. With that, they both went down to Dutch Oven for baths. And Yes, they screamed as loud as Jim and Gordon. (Another big smile) I wonder what the couple on the other side of the lake was thinking?

Wednesday. Gordon and myself decided to take a hike up to the top of Valentine Peak (11,360'). The others decided to hike over and down to Moss Lake to test their fishing skills out again. On the way up, Gordon spotted a few Elk. The calves must not have seen any two-legged creatures before, because they were giving us the most stupid look, like, "what the heck are those and what are they doing up here"? But mom pushed them on down the mountain. It was only then, did we realize how many we had spooked out of bed. They filtered through the trees below us like a bunch of women scurrying at a sale at the mall. We continued to the top where the view was indescribable. We could see for miles. Definitely time for some of that medicine.

As Gordon and I were wondering about, checking out the scenic vistas, we heard voices. Could it be the spirits of some long lost Indians? As it turned, it was the others in our party. Upon arriving to the top of the pass and looking down into Moss Lake, they decided it was too far to go, and it looked like mosquito heaven. The same conclusion Gordon and I had arrived at the night before when our options were being debated. Well being the kind souls that we are, we decided to go back and show the others everything we had already seen, including the Bull Moose, which was hanging out in the swamps by 'Mosquito Heaven'.

After a couple of hours and a few doses of medicine, we decided to head back to camp. On the way we all split up to look for arrowheads. It wasn't too long before we heard Rip screaming like a wild banshee. He had found a beautiful point made of obsidian. This was too spiritual! Two points on the same walk! After admiring Rips find, we continued down the mountain. I was getting this feeling; you know that kind of Indian spirituality thing. Well here I was, right in the middle of some sort of chipping area. I searched for 30 minutes in this small area, only to find some pretty fine chips, but no points. Oh well, my time will come, and when it does, I am sure it will be extraordinary.

Thursday. Time to get headed back towards the trailhead. We decided to stay at the same campsite as we did on the way in. On the way out, we ran into a nice young couple. He was from Belfast, Ireland and she was from Evanston, Wyoming. They had hiked in about 15 miles the day before and stayed one night. Apparently the mosquitoes were more than the guy from Belfast could take. Something we all thought rather ironic. Apparently he would rather fight off bullets in Ireland than mosquitoes in Wyoming? Well we played leapfrog with them all the way to the next camp. They would stop and we would walk by. We would stop and they would walk by. You get the picture.

At camp we ran into a father and his eleven-year-old son. The son didn't look very well so we offered any medicine we had that we thought would make him feel better, except the good stuff of course. It wasn't too long after that we had him talking and laughing with us.

With this being our last night on the trail, things were getting rather quiet. For those who have spent time walking you know what I mean. Everyone is realizing that this is it, tomorrow we would be back to the trailhead and oh my god, reality is going to come and slap us in the face!

When I get this way, I take the time to go off by myself. This is the time I take to give thanks to whoever it was that gave me the opportunity to visit and to whoever it was that let me get through another walk safely. I think that is what everyone else was doing also.

Friday. Everyone is moving slowly. Taking in the last of a great thing. One last look at the Bears Ears. There is some discussion taking place as to whether or not we should bush whack across the creek bottom and scramble up to Adams Pass, or take the long way on the trail. Three of us opt to bush whack, and the other two opt to go the long way. When we got to the top of Adams Pass, we looked back and Jim and Gordon still hadn't crested over the hill on the trail (About ¾ of a mile back). We decide to get going because the clouds were starting to build and turn quite black. We were now starting to run into more hikers. That's ok, we were on our way out. We got to the truck in about 2 ½ hours, or 2:00 PM. The beer was still cold after a week! Yeeeaaah! It wasn't until around 3:00 PM when Gordon and Jim arrived. We did have their lawn chairs ready, along with a couple of cold beers.

As always, we stayed at the trailhead for a quite a while. We drank the last of the beer, debated as to where the trail actually went up through the trees and over the pass. There was also some discussion as to where next years walk would be, but no final decisions yet. It was obvious we were all stalling to keep from leaving this fine place. But, you know how some people are, they will do anything to stay high. And one thing about this group, they love to get high and stay there!

About the Author

Terry Ziehl (ziehl@wavecom.net) aka Chief, has been an outdoor enthusiast since he was a small child growing up in northern Minnesota. When not enjo