Happy Fourth! My patriotism is probably lacking in a lot of enthusiasm, but none the less I was very happy to have spent the holiday week in what I believe to be Americas greatest assets...its wilderness. 

  It started with my roommate Laurel and I packing the car and heading to Stanley, Idaho for a couple nights, staying at Pettit Lake and day hiking to Alice Lake. This is a slightly less popular zone of the Sawtooths (I use the word popular lightly seeing as the Sawtooths are by no means hectic like Zion or Yosemite). Since we were technically glamping, naturally a stop in Hailey for beer was a must. We stuffed the cooler full of tasty foods and even tastier beer. 

  We found a great campsite right by Pettit Lake. The wake from the daily boaters had subsided and we were left with glassy water, reflecting the distant peaks in its mirror like disposition. The Idaho beers went down smooth; our tongues and bellies relishing in it's non-watered down Utah ways. 

  The next morning we hiked up to Alice Lake. Gorgeous alpine lake nestled right by (yes really) El Capitan. Not quite as majestic as the Yosemite El Cap, but there also wasn't a road driving right by it... Miika, Laurel's dog, had ran about four times as many miles as we did and helped herself to a nice siesta as I scrounged the lake for some fish and we helped ourselves to a tasty lunch of fancy cheese and salami. 

Laurel, with her giant lady balls, stripped down to her skivvies and after a quick internal debate, jumped into the lake. Chunks of snow were still breaking off and floating around in the lake as this girl submerged her whole body into it. Brrrr....

           We wrapped up the day with a nice hike back and cold beers waiting for us back at camp. 

 We ate all our snacks, drank a few beers, skipped dinner, and called it a night. The next day was an early one. We had to be back in Salt Lake to get Laurel to work by around noon, so we packed up the car and booked it. A nice little getaway with my girl. I was definitely excited to go back!

  

  Well, that didn't take too long..

  We arrived in Salt Lake. Laurel went off to work and there I was, just staring at my gear in the living room. I began pacing back and forth, fighting between logic and emotion.  As with any wise decisions regarding adventure I've made over the years, it started with a, "Fuck it, let's go." 

  So there I was, car packed driving back to the Sawtooths an hour after I got home. 

  This time I was backpacking, solo, and planned to do one night at Redfish and then shuttle across for two nights in the wilderness. Limited by the snow line, I had to stick to mellower routes but was able to link up a few classic lakes: Cramer Lakes and Alpine Lake. Both with the intention of catching some fish and getting better with my new camera. 

First night was at Cramer Lakes. The third lake, marshy in its appearance, was filled with little Brook Trout and I can only imagine some larger Cutthroats and Rainbows lurking in the deep. The second lake had a gorgeous waterfall running into it. Something you see in an Ansel Adams photo or maybe a James Cameron movie (is it weird putting those two in a sentence together? Sorry Ansel). 

  The third lake, of course, was the most majestic. Nestled right against Cramer peak, it was the quintessential high alpine lake. The water was as clear as anything you see in the finest of tropical getaways. Snowmelt pouring into the lake made for exceptional drinking water and I even managed to find myself a nice little campsite right by the outlet pouring into the second lake. 

  

  Like most mountains in the summer, an afternoon thunderstorm made its way through, dropping some decent rain and a few startling claps of thunder. I crawled in my tent with my little box of wine and my Ed Abbey book, enjoying a little respite while the rain pummeled my tent. Of course, it was over in about twenty minutes. 

After dinner I made my way down to the third lake to get some fishing in before the sun went down. Complete madness! I've only been fly fishing for about a month and have had plenty of days of not catching anything, but this was the complete opposite. Every cast, BAM, fish. Mind you, they were between 5-8 inches, but fun none the less! Plus it helped me get use to pulling a hook out of fish's mouth, something that still makes me squirm a little bit. 

After my date with the Brook Trout, I headed back to camp and was greeted with a gorgeous sunset reflection on the upper Cramer Lake. I plowed through my SIM card on my camera and then called it a night.

  The next morning it was onward to Alpine Lake. Being a fairly popular lake in the Sawtooths, I decided to change my plans and head to Saddleback Lake. Well, that ended up being a bust. The creek crossing was deep and fast. There was a section of rope going across and with some equipment would make the passage much easier. I stared at my two carabiners and voile straps, ideas of how to cross going through my head. A few good ones, but none that would justify crossing with a $2k camera. So I backtracked a bit and headed towards Alpine Lake. A few decent sized groups had passed me while I was heading towards Saddleback on their way to Alpine. Not wanting to get the shaft on a camp spot, I started booking it. The trail to Alpine Lake is mellow until you reach the last two miles, then it turns into about an hour of steep switchbacks. I put my headphones on and started walking...fast. I blew by the first group who were resting, red faced and sweaty. The second group was much further, but managed to catch them, their faces red and clothes saturated in sweat as well. Hungry and thirsty, I reached the top and Alpine Lake in all her glory. But this was no time to stop, it was campsite finding time. I scoured the shore, finding some marginal sites, all presenting decent views but never quite felt like THE spot. 

 Then I looked down towards the outlet and there she was, a perfect rock perch right on the shore complete with your very own peninsula to fish off of. It overlooked the whole lake and required some wading so I knew I wouldn't be disturbed. I setup my camp and got to know my surroundings. The first of the two eventually showed up. I sat on my little peninsula, observed their habits as if it were a nature show; Internal voice of Steve Irwin narrating the scene. Right behind them was the second group. "Perhaps a bloodbath will ensue?" I said to myself as I watched who would claim what spot. 

I wandered around for a bit, made some rock art, got to know all my surrounding peaks and passes with my Topo Map App, whipped up dinner, snapped way too many photos, and of course, fished. Unfortunately Alpine Lake was JUST starting to see some life in it so the fish were very limited to one small area that was impossible to get to without some floating contraption so alas, my fishing wasn't like the previous night, but still felt great to be out casting in such a beautiful area. 

I had a little bit of wine and read more of Desert Solitaire, waiting for the sun to go down. The mosquitos were definitely on a bender so I found refuge in my tent until the cooler air took over. My camera was all setup to take some night shots once the stars came out. I continued reading, curled up in my sleeping bag. I shut my eyes for a minute, enjoying the cool breeze and winding down of the day. 

  My sleep was suddenly and abruptly interrupted by...the sound of birds chirping? I opened my eyes seeing the distant glow out to east of the sun rising. I wiped the drool of my chin; Ed Abbey still open to the exact page I crashed on. "Well, blew that one.." I thought to myself as I got up, making sure my camera wasn't frozen or covered in condensation. Luckily it was fine, but the battery was useless, so I found a home for it under my armpit while I made coffee. Fish were rising once again, a few slightly closer to me, so I made a couple casts, but no success.Snapped a few photos and took in the solitude of an early morning before my neighbors woke up. Then packed up camp and headed out. 

The walk back was met with philosophical conclusions and hunger pains. I passed many excited, clean faces. Fresh deodorant and newly washed hair, their eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. They were about to have the time of their life....

Short but sweet trip. I scarfed down a Bratwurst at the Redfish Bodega, hopped in my car, and headed back to reality, my mind already planning my next adventure.  

Conclusion:

  The Sawtooths have a special place in my heart. They've changed my life and many others, but also have taken life from me. One of my best friends Mikee was claimed by these peaks, a mountain range I introduced him to a few summers prior. Mikee and the Sawtooths were and still are the reason I explore. I didn't grow up loving backpacking, even hiking for that matter. But summiting Mt. Heyburn with Mikee and good friends Matt and Nick about six years ago changed everything. I saw what I was capable of and more importantly, just how beautiful and enriching being in the wilderness was. After that, the path was clear: Adventure more. Adventure always.

 

 

 Mikee may not be with us anymore but his soul is still lingering in these mountains. Every stream you cross, breeze you feel, lake you swim in, and proud peaks you admire, his love and energy are flowing through. I may not have Mikee in his physical form yelling "Hey little dude!" while bear hugging me, but I do have this precious mountain range that's always ready to embrace and inspire me. Like Tom the Bomb said to me before I headed out on my trip, "Welcome home!".

 Thanks Tom, feels good to be back!