Not one... not two...

6/8/24 – 6/15/24

Opal-

This Friday and Saturday Oliver and I finally had our weekends aligned. We decided to go backpacking at Slough Creek, a place Oliver had been dying to go since we arrived here. It's up north in the park just before Lamar Valley where all the wolves tend to hang out. We grabbed a permit at the Roosevelt ranger station and started the hike. It was steep starting out but eventually leveled off and descended into a meadow that Slough Creek winds through. We stopped and watched bison and elk through binoculars make their way across the plain. We continued up until we crossed a creek and came to a second meadow. Here we debated what the difference is between a broke, stream, and creek. Is a stream bigger than a creek? We concluded that a broke is the smallest and is rocky, it sometimes pools in places. A stream can be a creek but not all creeks are streams. Then we arrived at our campsite, it was a way up the hills that surrounded the second meadow and surrounded by pines. It also had a brook running right past it. We set up camp and then walked down into the valley with the intention of fishing Slough Creek and possibly swimming. Oliver caught no fish, and we did not swim. The water was freezing which made for bad swimming, and silty from snowmelt which made for bad fishing. So we made our way back up to the campsite. On the way Oliver once again got his feet all wet. This time though he brought an extra pair of socks and did not need to use mine. He was though incapacitated by the fire while I cooked dinner. We attempted to eat out on a ridge overlooking the valley but there were too many mosquitoes and we had to retreat to the safety of the fire. After dinner, we hiked up a way and found a viewpoint overlooking the valley. After we returned, we built up the fire and started fantasizing about food. We listed out our dream meals, each with appetizers and dessert, and vowed to bring more food on the next trip. As the fire died down so did our conversation and we drifted off to bed. A little disappointed that we hadn’t seen any bears or wolves. If only we had known.

The next morning, we watched horse-drawn wagons travel through the valley coming from Silver Tip Ranch to pick up supplies and passengers. As we hiked back a fisherman warned us of a bear up ahead on the trail. We kept walking and walking and just as we thought we had missed it we rounded a corner and there it was romping around at the tree line. We slowly walked past it along with another group of hikers and some horseback riders. At one point it chased a badger into its hole. Then it headed up into the trees and we finished our hike.

On the drive back we stopped not once, not twice, but three times, and saw three more bears. The first was a black bear, the second a grizzly, and the third a black bear that ran across the road a few cars in front of us. Four bears in one day, that has to be a record.

Oliver-

The recent trend has been wet feet and no fish, not a combination I am fond of. It happened on this trip and a trip I took last weekend. I hiked out to the point where the Snake River flows into Lewis Lake, somewhere I thought would be good for fishing, and immediately could spot multiple nice trout, larger than anything I had caught all summer. Although this was exciting, one thing I have learned about trout is when you can see them, they can see you and this became evident by the way they would run away from my lure every time I cast. If I wasn’t frustrated enough at this point three random people showed up and proved that it wasn’t the conditions but me. About every five minutes or so they pulled out a nice lake trout. The three fishermen had two tactical advantages over me. The first was waiters which let them get offshore and into deeper water than I was able to access. The second is that my telescoping fishing rod is missing its last segment which means that I was only casting with three-fourths of an already short rod. A great fisherman would have found a way, but I am only a good fisherman, and good fishermen blame their gear.

I had brought supplies to spend the night, but the three strangers asked if I wanted to hike back with them to increase our fighting odds against a bear and I obliged. About half of the trail is underwater and I didn’t want to slow my new friends down, so I hiked the last mile and a half barefoot. Later I went over to their cabin, and they shared their fish with me. Trout, couscous, and beer are a pretty good combination.   

I would also like to say happy Father’s Day to my dad. Between learning how to work on my own cars, running, and starting a blog, he has inspired me to do many of the things that I am proud of myself for. Thank you for supporting my dream to come out here Dad.