IUA Hike & Bike 2003
Canada to Mexico
2,000 miles in 63 days
IUA = Idaho-Utah-Arizona
We flew to Seattle and on to Spokane, then took a N.I.C.E. bus shuttle to Coeur d'Alene. At the Greyhound Station we got another nice ride to Sandpoint. Then we took another shuttle to the US-Canadian border near Eastport, Idaho.
Day 1
June 12, 2003
At the border station we began our journey, at 5:30 pm. We walked by a sign that said "Welcome to the United States" and "Welcome to Idaho."
We walked about one mile along the 2-lane Hwy 95. Only a few cars passed by. We were very fatigued from the day's travel and the previous night's lack of sleep. But it felt wonderful having started this trip at last, and the verdancy of the region almost overwhelmed the senses. The sight of all that lush, green growth, and the powerful aromas of the trees and plants made quite a contrast from our home in Arizona's Sonoran Desert. The temperature was in the 70's, still a little too warm for hiking. We sweated a bit.
About a mile down the highway we turned left onto a dirt road, and followed it past a few houses. The walking was very enjoyable and the mosquitoes were few. The dirt road rapidly diminished, and just before the last house we took a faint road heading west for another mile. This paralleled the highway, just out of sight. Unfortunately, private property drove us back up to the highway.
Approaching the turn to Moyie Springs, we saw two black bear yearlings. Our shuttle driver, Heather, had told us that the dumpster at this road junction was a good place to watch bears, and she was right.
We detoured left along the gas pipeline to avoid the bears, but private property soon forced us back toward the dumpster junction. Fortunately the bears had moved out by the time we arrived.
Now on Road 74, we followed it south at a rather slow but steady pace. We crossed the bridge at Sinclair, and in a short ways we climbed a short hill and made camp above the road. At 9 pm it was still quite light out. Hiked about 6 miles.
Day 2
June 13, 2003
We had an excellent night's sleep, even though we both woke up several times to shift around. I woke up to find I had pushed my foam pad completely out from under me. We listened to a train go by, and could see that the sky was clouded over. When we broke camp the tarp was covered with dew and condensation, and the quilt was damp (pitched the tarp to low).
We set off at 5:50 am, walked 50 yards down to the paved road, and resumed our journey south. Before long it started to rain. We broke out our umbrellas and walked beneath them wearing shell jackets and pants. Jenny wore her insulated hat, and I wore my skull cap, we both wore mittens. For the first two hours the wind was calm, then as we were walking a long, straight section of road, the wind pick up and made the morning feel much colder. We had to hike pointing our brollies to windward.
We stopped at a beautiful creek to fill our water bottles. The road had very little traffic, and most people seemed friendly and waved. Houses were common all along the way, but not excessive. Three hours into our morning we found shelter under a beautiful spruce, located up from the road a ways.
The ground was completely dry around the base of the tree, so we sat there admiring the view and enjoying a breakfast of granola, oranges, peanuts and raisins. The road we were following went down the narrow Moyie River valley with towering hills on both sides. The forest was magnificent. Dozens of different kinds of trees: fir, pine, cedar, spruce, larch, birch, aspen, cottonwood, alder, maple, vine maple... Everything was profuse, vibrant and glistening with rain drops.
The rain was just finishing so we set off again, and soon had put our brollies away, although the road remained sloppy with mud. We caught up to a doe and fawn; we had been following their tracks. The doe took a very long look at us, then bounded away, leaving the fawn to trot along behind her, but still staying on the road. This gave us a good opportunity to study their tracks.
The road paralleled the Moyie River, crossed it a few times on bridges. The river was gushing, maybe 25 yards wide. At one point, an old school bus passed us by carrying a load of inflatable rafts on its roof.
Midday we stopped for a lunch break. Our legs and feet were starting to complain a little bit. Our feet were pruned from the rain, so we dried them, massaged them, and put on clean, dry socks, which helped a lot.
About 3 miles short of highway 2, we were walking past a ranch area, somewhat run down, yard full of manure and junk. A cat came out to visit us, much like a dog, wagging its tail. We thought this was odd; very friendly, wanting to play. It walked along with us. We kept expecting it to turn around and go home, but it followed us for 1.5 miles by which time we were doing everything we could think of to get the cat to un-adopt us. For the last half mile it followed us 50 to 100 feet behind us, meowing loudly and forlornly. It was a very nice looking cat. We figured someone had brought it up here and abandoned it. It acted like it was looking for a new owner. Finally it stopped following us, and we hoped it returned to where it came from.
The day became quite warm. We hiked in single shirts and sweated a bit. Water was becoming something of a problem. Finally we came to a gorgeous creek in Section 34. The creek passed through a culvert under the road. The forest was thick on the uphill side, but we found a faint trail leading to the creek and a beautiful little glen in the cedars. We filled our bottles, then washed our feet and socks. A couple ladies walked by on the road, talking while exercising. They did not notice us.
Soon we reached the highway and walked across it to a gas station and store. The people were friendly. We ordered veggie sandwiches and enjoyed another rest.
We followed the road to Moyie Springs rather than the highway. A couple blocks from the post office we found a wallet with $10, driver's license, credit card, etc. We took it in to the postmaster and asked if he knew who it belonged to. The driver's license showed a Moyie Springs PO box. He called the post office in Bonner's Ferry and they said the fellow had a box there. So we left the wallet and all its contents with the postmaster. He said he would see to it that the fellow received it.
The road led through a beautiful area with good views of the mountains, large open fields, quite a few houses all along the way, and a huge lumber mill. Our feet were complaining in earnest. We wanted to follow the pipeline marked on the map, as this would be quite a good shortcut. But the way was blocked by private lands, so we had to follow the road. Half a mile from the highway we hauled off into a fenced, wooded lot, hidden from view. We stopped hiking at 4:30 pm. Now it is raining lightly again, 6 pm, with lightning and thunder in the nearby mountains.
Day 3
June 14, 2003
Not long after nightfall, something started snorting in the woods nearby, and kept it up - on and off - for an hour. Probably deer rutting. We slept fitfully. We could not get comfortable because of the shape of the ground, hollow beneath our knees. We packed up and set off at 6:20 am.
We walked slowly at first, with stiff feet and ankles. We followed the road nearly to the highway, then turned left on a paved road leading south. We followed that for a mile, eventually it led down the slope, off the plateau, and down a little-traveled gravel road, to the farm land flood plain of the Kootenai River Valley. This was very green and beautiful country, pastoral, with a wonderful variety of roadside vegetation. We followed this road 5 miles, until it led up to the highway. We crossed highway and found a sidewalk, and walked a couple blocks down to the bridge over the Kootenai River, which was surprisingly wide. This bridge is why we had come this way. On the other side we wandered in to town and found a restaurant, where we ate a hearty breakfast.
My toes were heavily blistered; Jenny's were holding together well so far. We walked west a couple blocks to the Safeway store. They had a great supply of foot care items. We bought a number of things that we hoped would help sore and blistered feet and toes. Across the street at the Sheriff's station we were sitting on a bench outside, when a woman walked up and said, "You look like the lightweight people." We had no idea anyone would recognize us, so we thought she was talking about something entirely different. But no, she meant us, all right. We told her our names and shook hands, and asked her for her name, she was stunned and said she couldn't remember. At last she said Vicky. She knew all about us, said she had read Beyond Backpacking 3 times while highlighting the text. She had also seen our website and knew all about our Arctic kayaking. She also knew that we had not been on a long hike for several years. She and her husband ran a cattle ranch, up somewhere to the north. She also knew a fair amount of local geology, which she shared with us. Funny, she was not even a hiker, but she and her husband had lightweight packs, and she was keenly interested in lightweight gear. She asked how it feels to have started the whole thing. And of course she asked where we were headed. We told her we were headed toward Mexico, but didn't know how far we would get.
We wandered across the railroad tracks and found a faint trail up the hill to the highway. Again on a sidewalk we made our way into the upper lever of Bonner's Ferry, and proceeded about 1.5 miles to a large grocery store. We went in and bought more foot care items, snacks, apples, cheese, crackers, granola bars. While Jenny was in the store, I sat out front on a bench and talked to an Amish fellow. He was very interested in our trip. He wished us well on our journey. Everyone we have met have been very friendly. On the back roads the drivers are courteous and drive wide around us, with a wave.
In another block southwest we stopped at a gas station mini mart for cold drinks, and sat out back in the sunshine, relaxing and doctoring our feet. From there we followed a road leading south, curving around and then east up the hill to the top of the plateau called Paradise Valley. This route had looked good on my maps, but it turned out to be through private property. It didn't lead directly past any houses, at least not inescapably close, and we didn't know of any other options without backtracking a long ways, so we forged ahead and eventually reached the public roads at the top. This was quite a nice route, were it not for the private land.
We walked east half a mile then straight south on the road for several miles. At one point we stopped in the shade of an apple tree at a small cemetery. The reason we stopped here is that land everywhere else was private. Many farms and houses. This cemetery, being a public place, we could sit here without causing suspicion. We don't know if this happens with everyone walking along here, but the horses came trotting up to their fence lines near us. Several times this happened. We are starting to feel like animal magnets.
We continued another few miles south, then southwest, down the slope and then turned on to a dirt road leading up into the forest. This was at the base of the north end of the Cabinet Mountains. This was where we left most of the civilization behind. It was very pleasant walking up this seldom-used road. We had an aerial photo and a topo of this area, but despite these we could not find the proper road. Everywhere we went was some house tucked away in the forest. We had to back-track a quarter mile and follow quite a steep road, almost never traveled, past a gravel pit on the upper slope. Eventually this crossed a beautiful creek. We stopped for a sponge bath and washed a few clothes. We knew where this road was on the map, and it was not the road we needed to be on.
We followed a steep fire-break up the hill in the right direction. Eventually we came to our intended road, which hadn't been traveled in decades. Obviously this road had been closed and the private land was blocking it below. This road eventually jogged southeast across the base of the steep mountainside. This road might have been a good way to proceed, but it was not on our maps, so we followed the old, much smaller road leading steeply up the left side of the creek. The road started bearing left, away from the creek. We continued a ways, as I had planned. Then at the right place, we left the road and began the most daunting task of traversing through very thick forest and under story, across the creek. We kept traversing slowly through some devil's club. The slope above looked impossibly steep, where we had intended to go. One slip could have been disastrous. So we traversed to the right until we found a place where we could start climbing safely.
And so began a most arduous ascent, made difficult mainly by the logging that had left a tangle of sticks and branches and stumps. Sometimes we followed elk tracks on game trails. The climb was very steep and took us about one hour. A few times we had to angle off right to easier ground. Eventually we topped out at an old logging road. I thought this was the one I had meant to reach, so we followed it around to the other side of the knoll, but it dead ended. We hiked east up the ridge 20 minutes and started growing ever more perplexed. I got out GPS and found us on the map. We were 300 yards due west of our intended road. We had been headed in the right direction, we just needed to go farther.
We continued up the slope to the east and eventually reached the correct road. By correct, I mean that I had planned this route very carefully back home. We walked half a mile southeast down the road, grown-over with grasses and showing zero traffic. We'd been looking for a campsite all afternoon. We finally called it quits right on the road, stopping at 6:45 pm. This was Forest Road 2617.
Day 4
June 15, 2003
We awoke to the sound of grouse drumming. The grasses growing on the road were wet with dew. We slept in a bit, then set off at 8:06. The walking along road 261 was pleasant. The road didn't descend much, which was good. Eventually we reached heavily traveled Road 408, and followed that east and southeast for several miles to Twenty Mile Pass. A few horse trailers sped past. We took Road 2624 which led down into a cool and moist, beautifully forested area, following Cabin Creek. This area had not been logged in a long while. This road led south 1.5 miles descending, then joined Road 427. This was the end of the easy going. Although the forest service map showed Road 427 extending all the way to the divide, this was not the case. We tried to follow the main trail as it meandered through a lowlands where alder and young spruce sapling grew densely. We saw what we thought was moose tracks.
After a great deal of galumphing we finally found ourselves on Trail 247 which shortly joined the main trail leading up to the divide. This trail was rough with rocks, hard on the ankles and feet. It was so horsey that the smell was almost nauseating. We could not find a clean place to sit down and rest; it was super polluted. There were many creeks all along the way, so there was no need to carry water on this stretch, this time of year. Nearly to the divide, with large patches of snow on the ground, we hauled off for a rest stop hidden in the trees. Ten horses and their riders came down the trail, stopped for a rest nearby, then set off again, going right past us and never seeing us. We heard the lead rider comment to his buddy," Well, you could look at it this way. At least we were the first ones to leave hoof marks on the mountain this year." The great conquerors. Never mind the deer and elk tracks everywhere.
Once they had gone, we continued on our way. The trail was twice as demolished as it was before, but fortunately they had not gone farther than our trail junction. Now on Trail 67 we made the climb to Calder Mountain, while looking for a place to camp. But the ground was covered everywhere with brush. We continued on, very slowly with sore feet. We enjoyed the view away to the south, from the high point of Calder Mountain. Lots of mountains. On the ascent we hiked through a fair amount of snow, but it was patchy and easy to find the trail. We saw two grouse, a female who sat completely motionless, and then 10 minutes later a male grouse right on the trail. He was kind enough to mosey away. He was in full display: chest puffed, fan tailed regally, and shoulder patches flared. We've also seen dozens of beautiful wildflowers: trillium, glacier lilies, yellow and purple violets... Up high they are especially colorful.
We descended Calder on its south slope, looking everywhere for a place to camp. Finally we settled on a level patch of bear grass, which, if it sounds comfortable, it is not. Bear grass is very lumpy. This trail is not well traveled. These higher mountains are primarily fir forests with bear grass and huckleberry, with alder and willow understory - very thick.
Day 5
June 16, 2003
We set off at 6:10 am under a blue sky save for a bit of cirrus. We found the snow on the trail had frozen during the night, so we walked on top of it without sinking in more than a quarter inch. About half an hour into our morning we saw a moose 150 feet ahead of us. It looked like a young female. She took one look at us and tromped off into the thick brush.
I was concerned about the snow on the peaks ahead. Yesterday, from a high vantage, we could see some of the peaks ahead on our route, and they were plastered with snow on their north exposures. There were no escape routes between here and Mt. Pond Oreille, so if we reached Mt. PO and were turned back by snow, we would have to back track 10 difficult miles to the first side trail leading out.
The route today was strenuous hiking, but very beautiful and remote. Obviously very few people ever hike here. However, the trail was well traveled by the animals, large and small. The moose we had seen had been traveling the trail this morning. We followed its tracks, mile after mile, as had a variety of deer and elk. The deer and elk tended to come and go, but the moose was consistently there. The snow had accumulated the most on the northern exposures, and often route finding was a real challenge. However, time and again the moose tracks showed us the way. As did the other animals. They obviously knew where the trail went and could follow it when snowbound.
In addition to the tracks, we found the occasional tree blaze and sawn logs which helped verify the presence of the trail. The trail very generally followed the divide, from one peak to the next. Contrary to our expectations, however, there was very little drinking water to be found. Often we could hear and see large creeks 1,000 feet below. Nevertheless it was a hiking adventure at its finest, with beautiful scenery, challenging route finding, and fairly strenuous.
At one point, the trail made a long traverse around the west side of an unnamed but very spectacular peak, and then made a few zigzags up a snowbound couloir. Near the top was very steep and somewhat hard snow climbing. It would have been nice to have ice axes. But we always managed to stay reasonably safe by keeping to the trees, which would stop a fall. Eventually we made it to the top, and before long found the trail again, complete with moose tracks. The moose obviously had a better way up the slope, but we had missed it.
The trail traversed Mt. Willard to the east, and then led to Mt. Pend Oreille. On a beautifully flowered ridge, right in front of the mountain, we stopped for a break to soak in the views of the mountain and the valleys far below. From there a snowbound ridge led up the mountain, and about half way up fortunately we noticed the trail heading around the west side of the upper flank. So we followed it across a wide talus field.
Circumventing Mt Pend Oreille was a major milestone for us, not that there wasn't still plenty of snowy peaks ahead of us, but there were now a few bomb-out trails in case the snow stopped us. But in fact, in addition to the moose tracks which we had following for 9 miles, now there were boot tracks. Someone had come in from the south and perhaps climbed the mountain. Also, now the trail was much improved and quite well traveled.
Indeed the snow was still pervasive on the northern slopes, and Mildred's tracks (as we had come to call the moose) continued to show the way faithfully. Early afternoon we reached Lunch Peak and the fire lookout. This is where the Centennial Trail descends the road down in the gaping valley to the south. And this where this set of mountains essentially ends. The next set begins 4 or 5 miles (as the crow flies) south. We followed the road down and down, plodding very slowly because my blisters didn't like the road walking.
We were sunburned on our arms, faces and back of necks. And we were dehydrated. After a lot of plodding, we passed through an area of dense alders, which are a sure indication of water. We paused and thought we could hear water trickling faintly not too far down the slope. Jenny offered to go look, and soon called out that she had found a spring. So I carried both packs 100 feet down a gentle slope. We were positively famished, and here at last we found a great place to cook our corn elbows. And so we enjoyed a wonderfully refreshing break.
We resumed walking down the road, but soon had to make another stop to apply Second Skin to my toes. After that, progress was much better. Eventually we reached our next trailhead. There was a large camping area, and we had to search awhile to find the trail, which felt ironic, with no snow on the ground and at a large parking area. This trail #120 led up at an excellent grade for the next several miles. There was patchy snow practically from the onset, because we were on the northwest slope. Water was abundant, and we crossed many streams.
Eventually we came near the divide. The ground was beautifully carpeted in grass. Here were 4 elk, grazing peacefully. We saw them long before they saw us. Once on the divide we searched for camping and finally found something suitable. We stopped for the day at 7 pm. We had seen several deer today, squirrels, mice, and heard pikas.
Day 6
June 17, 2003
We awoke to another cloudless day. There had been a nice breeze much of the night, so everything was dry this morning: our tarp, the quilt, and all the bushes along the trail. We set off at 7:20 am.
For the first two miles the trail was snowbound much of the way, but the snow was only patchy and it was imprinted with the tracks of deer and elk, which clearly showed us which way the trail went. These animals were a real blessing for us.
The trail traversed nearly horizontally for 3 miles, giving fine views off to the east and southeast to some very imposing mountains such as Lightning, Savage, and several others. We were glad the trail didn't go over there. It would have been very difficult to stay high through that part of the Cabinet Mountain range.
Near Round Top Mountain the trail suddenly went berserk, climbing straight up the hill a ways, galumphing around, finally descending to the pass at Road 489. The trail leading south from there was very different in character, almost as if someone had been trying to create a showpiece. Where it crossed talus slopes, it was covered in gravel. It was extremely nice for hiking, but that lasted only a few hundred yards. Eventually it returned to its usual state, being very seldom traveled, quite narrow, in some places rather indistinct.
From Round Top there was very little snow the rest of the way. This section of trail afforded beautiful views to the southwest. In a few miles the trail started weaving in and out with every expansive gully and ridge, and continued that way for the remainder of the traverse. It would round a mountain, then arrived at the next dip in the ridge giving us a quick view down in to the valleys to the northeast, then it would head for the next mountain. At one point, just northeast of Cougar Peak, the trail crossed a gushing little creek, the first potable water we has seen all day. We drank our fill, filled our bottles, then washed our shirts, socks, shorts, and had sponge baths.
At the overlook to Porcupine Lake we saw a trail sign indicating a one-mile trail down to the lake. It was here that Jenny noticed a tick on my leg. Fortunately it was still crawling around. A couple miles later I found another tick crawling on my sock.
The day was very hot, even up here, and the sun intense. We hiked under our umbrellas because of our badly sunburned arms, faces, and back of necks. The biting flies kept our rest stops to a minimum. The biggest problem with my feet were my 3 blisters, but for both of us, our feet were very sore with several areas almost blistered. We stopped several times to apply more tape and Second Skin.
In the vicinity of Bee Top Mountain the trail did something I had never seen a trail do before. It reached the very end of the mountain range, still at 5,000 feet elevation. Directly in front of us was the gaping drainage of Lightning Creek, and then the land rose back up to the continuation of the range. The range looked like it had been split apart right here. The intervening hillsides were so steep that the trail simply made a 90 degree turn and headed down the south slope. From there, the trail switchbacked endlessly down the steep mountainside. The trail was consistently graded but a little too steep for normal hiking. We always had to have the breaks on, so it was hard on the feet and the legs. Due to access problems at the bottom, the trail was very seldom traveled. This was one of the longest descents (the sign had read 5 miles), switchbacking down one steep slope, we can ever remember. It took us over 2.5 hours. About 2/3 the way down was a gushing spring flowing into a half barrel. The descent was very beautiful, the vegetation continually changing with the loss of elevation. We passed through zone after zone of wildflowers, plants and trees. Near the bottom was even a patch of poison ivy. The bottom of the trail emptied out onto private land, although no one had built on this particular site yet.
Where the trail meets the road is a concrete block shed about 10 feet square, and nearby a water hydrant standing on a pipe 5 feet tall. Just here is a sign on a tree indicating the forest boundary. However, 100 yards down the road to the south is a gate. A solid green iron gate with a large timber arch.
We tromped along the road for about 7 miles, through a wooded residential area, where everyone we saw was friendly. Then the road followed alongside Spring Creek. We plodded on and on, now quite late in the day. Eventually we reached the 2-lane highway, and crossed over Lightning Creek on a narrow bridge (the creek would have been impossible to ford on foot, which why we had come this way), and on into the small town of Clark's Fork.
On the last of our legs we walked to the far end of town, to the only motel, and rented a room for the night. After a quick round of showers and washing shirt and socks in the sink, we gimped back in to town on the absolute last of our legs to a convenience store. The time was 8:45 pm and the cafés had already closed for the day, so we ate microwave burritos, pizza pockets, and other junk food for dinner.
Day 7
June 18, 2003
Layover day in Clark's Fork. We decided our feet could use a day of rest, so we spent another day and night at the Lodge. Jenny went to the post office to pick up our resupply box, then bought some more groceries.
Day 8
June 19, 2003
We checked out of our motel room and set off at 5:48 am, walking the paved road leading toward Dry Creek, over the old bridge, then through the wet, mosquito infested river valley. We had to walk in our shells and put repellent on our socks. There was a fair amount of traffic on this road, so it wasn't the most pleasant road walk. But the passing drivers were friendly; most waved. We saw some osprey. We met a woman walking the other way. She told us that this road was busy because it was the back road to Heron, Montana and the locals prefer it to the highway because the highway winds around so much.
We reached our dirt road turnoff, Dry Creek Road, at about 9 am. We hauled off into the quiet forest for breakfast and some foot care and blister control. We were thankful for the cloud cover. Dry Creek was indeed dry. We didn't find any water until nearly at the upper switchback. Two groups of motorbikes passed us going up. That was the last we saw of their ilk. The road was long but easy going. Near the first switchback we found a nice feeder creek. After the first switchback there was no more water. We had intended to carry 3 quarts each, but were only carrying 2 each. We had wanted to fill our third bottles at the next creek, but it never materialized. At the last switchback we were officially on the mountains again. The climb up the road had taken four hours from the paved river road.
Our dirt road continued, paralleling the divide, sometimes descending, but usually climbing. We wanted to cook, but didn't have enough water. A quarter mile short of the heliport shown on the map, we stopped for the day. We were tired, too tired to eat or write. It rained during the night. Our tarp site was between two trees. We had to pitch the tarp high in order to fit it between the trees. It rained on and off most of the night; sometime during the night we heard the hoofed footfalls of elk, amidst the patter of rain on the tarp. We went to sleep early, about 6 pm, and despite the rain we slept well all night.
Day 9
June 20, 2003
Even after a night of rain, the quilt stayed dry, thanks to the tarp's ventilation. This was good because there was no chance to air the quilt during the day. We set off at 6:38 am.
At 7:07 am we left the road in search of water. The map showed a road leading a mile down to the west, then a trail to a spring. We hiked the mile somewhat steeply downhill. Two hours later we were back up at the main road, not having found the spring or any water at all, even though we had searched everywhere. So we continued on our way, following the main dirt road.
The day was cold and windy with a few spatters of rain but fortunately not very much. The road climbed all morning. Cloud base was 6,000 feet and a couple of the peaks were 6,500 feet. The last couple miles before Ulm Peak felt like the stairway to heaven, climbing up into the clouds. At the pass beyond Ulm Peak we followed a spur road leading down to the east 1/8 mile, and after a bit of searching we picked up a rough trail paralleling the divide. This soon switchbacked into a wooded cirque and eventually led us to some beautiful snowmelt runoff creeklets. We hadn't drunk more than a few sips in the last 12 hours. Ironically we still couldn't drink very much because the water was very cold and so were we. So we each filled all of our bottles (3 quarts each) and sipped as we hiked, maintaining what metabolic warmth we could.
The further we progressed, the fainter was the trail. We kept losing it in the snow and brush, until eventually we lost it entirely. Even without the snow, this trail would be very difficult to follow because it is so faint. We climbed steeply up to a low point in the ridge and used the compass to figure out which way to proceed: southeast. We found a faint trail leading up the slope and eventually reached a somewhat better trail. It made a few switchbacks up, then traversed toward the ridge.
The afternoon's hiking was "close to the edge." The weather was the predominant factor: very cold and windy, the bushes were sopping wet, so were our pants and shoes. There were very few possible camping spots, if any. And the trail was seldom traveled, grown over and very difficult to find and follow. We lost it dozens of times. The brush was knee high to waist high continually, mostly huckleberry with hemlock saplings. And there were hundreds of blow downs. At one point we found ourselves going the wrong way. We made a 90 degree left turn, and within 1/8 mile we were back on track.
We flushed a grouse and chicks on a clearcut slope. Their nest was right out in the open. The adult grouse sits on the chicks to keep them warm. There were 4 or 5 chicks; 2 flew off with her, the others couldn't fly yet. All day we saw lots of deer and elk prints and lots of bear scat. Without a doubt, few people ever get in to this area.
After an interminable struggle we finally reached Porcupine Pass. There were possible campsites here. They were protected by the tall alders, but the area was swarming with mosquitoes. So we continued on, now following a good dirt road, up and to the south for three quarters of a mile, then we climbed the hill to the east a short ways to the divide. From here we followed what might have once been a road, heavily grown over and with innumerable blow downs. Thus we continued for another hour up to a summit marked with a cairn and pole, then down into the next draw. Clambering back into the forest to the west we found a place to camp in the timber. We pitched the tarp low lying to block the wind. It had been a very difficult day, but we made a lot of progress. It felt wonderful to crawl inside and under the warm quilt.
- IUA Hiking & Biking Adventure
- Day 1, 2, 3, 4
- Day 5, 6, 7, 8
- Day 9, 10, 11, 12
- Day 13, 14, 15, 16
- Day 17, 18, 19, 20
- Day 21, 22, 23, 24
- Day 25, 26, 27, 28
- Day 29, 30, 31, 32
- Day 33, 34, 35, 36
- Day 37, 38, 39, 40
- Day 41, 42, 43, 44
- Day 45, 46, 47, 48
- Day 49, 50, 51, 52
- Day 53, 54, 55, 56
- Day 57, 58, 59