September 18, 1993
| In The Bridger-Teton National Forest |
| Copyright 2008 by Lewis Harris. All rights reserved. |
Intermittent showers. It's damp and cold, but not nearly as bad as
yesterday. I have a vague and general idea of where I am, but no
idea of where I am in particular. If you pulled out a map and asked
me to indicate a specific location, I couldn't do it. I'd just have to
draw a hand-sized circle south of Mt. Leidy and say I was in there
somewhere. Actually, I'm under a tree in an open, flat hollow
waiting for the rain to stop. I'm following a creek that I figure must
eventually spill into the Gros Ventre River.
When I packed up camp yesterday, I became immediately
separated from where I was to where I was hoping to go on the
map. I'd hoped to hit a forest service road that would lead me to
Leidy Lake and a trail that passed between Mt. Leidy and East Mt.
Leidy, but I'm now well beyond Leidy and have yet to see a road or
a lake.
In fact, I haven't seen another person in the past four days, which
is a good thing. I was afraid I'd see a lot of hunters out and about. I
came prepared. I'm carrying a hunter-orange baseball cap and an
orange poncho that I've strapped onto the back of my pack.
Hunters are my main concern, bad weather second, and grizzlies
third. Of the three, the least I'd want to encounter is a bear. My
imagination gets pretty vivid out here by myself.
yesterday. I have a vague and general idea of where I am, but no
idea of where I am in particular. If you pulled out a map and asked
me to indicate a specific location, I couldn't do it. I'd just have to
draw a hand-sized circle south of Mt. Leidy and say I was in there
somewhere. Actually, I'm under a tree in an open, flat hollow
waiting for the rain to stop. I'm following a creek that I figure must
eventually spill into the Gros Ventre River.
When I packed up camp yesterday, I became immediately
separated from where I was to where I was hoping to go on the
map. I'd hoped to hit a forest service road that would lead me to
Leidy Lake and a trail that passed between Mt. Leidy and East Mt.
Leidy, but I'm now well beyond Leidy and have yet to see a road or
a lake.
In fact, I haven't seen another person in the past four days, which
is a good thing. I was afraid I'd see a lot of hunters out and about. I
came prepared. I'm carrying a hunter-orange baseball cap and an
orange poncho that I've strapped onto the back of my pack.
Hunters are my main concern, bad weather second, and grizzlies
third. Of the three, the least I'd want to encounter is a bear. My
imagination gets pretty vivid out here by myself.
 | |  | |  | |  | |  | |  | |  | |  |
The trail I followed yesterday eventually led near the top of Mt.
Leidy. I was fairly high up, I'll have to check my map to be certain
of the elevation. I followed a ridgeline that fell sharply away from
the mountainside. As I hiked, it began to hail strongly and then
quickly turned to snow. A picture-book snowfall! Big, cottony
flakes falling like rain. In no time the world was blanketed in white.
It snowed about ninety minutes while I was on the ridgeline trying
to figure out what to do. It was cold. I had gloves and most of my
heavy clothes on. I discovered mice and birds moving along the
ground that I hadn't noticed before the snowfall. What they were
doing way up there I don't know. I finally ended up backtracking
and taking a steep trail down off the mountain. My boots were
soaked and my feet frozen.
On the way down, I happened upon a group of eleven elk --10
female and 1 large bull. There were probably more males, but
they're usually scattered out, so I only saw the one. I spied the
herd first and had a few moments to enjoy them before they got
wind of me. When they did finally notice, one barked and the herd
took off racing down the ravine and into the trees. I could hear
them for quite a while, crashing through the forest like a train. It
would be a frightful sound to hear crashing through the woods
towards you!
The trail was slick with rain and ice and I made a very wet camp.
My tent was soaked and I was freezing. I dried my icy feet,
massaged them and pulled on dry socks, then set my soaked and
muddy boots in the back of the tent. I wolfed down a granola bar
and didn't hang my food. I drifted to sleep with my breath steaming
the inside of the tent and the sound of an ice-cold creek gurgling
just outside.
This morning I awoke in a damp sleeping bag with a puddle at my
feet. I pulled on my wet socks and forced my feet into soggy
boots. Ice had formed on my tent zipper and I had a time getting
out. I packed up immediately with fingers freezing and my pack
heavy with wet gear. I hiked free of the shadowed ravine and up
onto the ridgeline where the sun was already shining.
I found a wooded spot and strung a rope and hung my wet gear to
dry. The morning was bright and breezy and the gear dried fast.
But then a wave of showers appeared and I rushed to get it all
packed up. That wave has lasted, but getting my soaked gear dry
was great.
I've hiked down into a small valley where I'm hoping to follow this
creek to the Gros Ventre River. There are many cattle about. I can
hear them lowing in the distance.
Elk have bugled all day. A fine sound. When you hear it, you can
appreciate why it's called bugling. I surprised a herd in the woods
earlier, but having noticed me first, I saw mostly a lot of elk butt.
I've set up camp in "cow valley". I'm sure I won't find a better place
to tent down. I'm on a great, flat area that is a favorite for cattle. I
flipped an area free of cow patties and erected my tent on an
amazingly dry patch of ground beneath a tree. It's not the most
level spot, but dry. It hasn't stopped raining, though. But I'm dry
and my gear is dry with the exception of boots and tent fly (which
is at this moment deflecting the rain). It thundered a while, but
lightning hasn't found me beneath this tree yet. My feet are
ice-cold. Hopefully they'll thaw enough to appreciate how cold and
wet my boots will be in the morning.
If the sun rises bright and early and dries the world out, then I may
only have to spend eighteen hours in this tent.
Leidy. I was fairly high up, I'll have to check my map to be certain
of the elevation. I followed a ridgeline that fell sharply away from
the mountainside. As I hiked, it began to hail strongly and then
quickly turned to snow. A picture-book snowfall! Big, cottony
flakes falling like rain. In no time the world was blanketed in white.
It snowed about ninety minutes while I was on the ridgeline trying
to figure out what to do. It was cold. I had gloves and most of my
heavy clothes on. I discovered mice and birds moving along the
ground that I hadn't noticed before the snowfall. What they were
doing way up there I don't know. I finally ended up backtracking
and taking a steep trail down off the mountain. My boots were
soaked and my feet frozen.
On the way down, I happened upon a group of eleven elk --10
female and 1 large bull. There were probably more males, but
they're usually scattered out, so I only saw the one. I spied the
herd first and had a few moments to enjoy them before they got
wind of me. When they did finally notice, one barked and the herd
took off racing down the ravine and into the trees. I could hear
them for quite a while, crashing through the forest like a train. It
would be a frightful sound to hear crashing through the woods
towards you!
The trail was slick with rain and ice and I made a very wet camp.
My tent was soaked and I was freezing. I dried my icy feet,
massaged them and pulled on dry socks, then set my soaked and
muddy boots in the back of the tent. I wolfed down a granola bar
and didn't hang my food. I drifted to sleep with my breath steaming
the inside of the tent and the sound of an ice-cold creek gurgling
just outside.
This morning I awoke in a damp sleeping bag with a puddle at my
feet. I pulled on my wet socks and forced my feet into soggy
boots. Ice had formed on my tent zipper and I had a time getting
out. I packed up immediately with fingers freezing and my pack
heavy with wet gear. I hiked free of the shadowed ravine and up
onto the ridgeline where the sun was already shining.
I found a wooded spot and strung a rope and hung my wet gear to
dry. The morning was bright and breezy and the gear dried fast.
But then a wave of showers appeared and I rushed to get it all
packed up. That wave has lasted, but getting my soaked gear dry
was great.
I've hiked down into a small valley where I'm hoping to follow this
creek to the Gros Ventre River. There are many cattle about. I can
hear them lowing in the distance.
Elk have bugled all day. A fine sound. When you hear it, you can
appreciate why it's called bugling. I surprised a herd in the woods
earlier, but having noticed me first, I saw mostly a lot of elk butt.
I've set up camp in "cow valley". I'm sure I won't find a better place
to tent down. I'm on a great, flat area that is a favorite for cattle. I
flipped an area free of cow patties and erected my tent on an
amazingly dry patch of ground beneath a tree. It's not the most
level spot, but dry. It hasn't stopped raining, though. But I'm dry
and my gear is dry with the exception of boots and tent fly (which
is at this moment deflecting the rain). It thundered a while, but
lightning hasn't found me beneath this tree yet. My feet are
ice-cold. Hopefully they'll thaw enough to appreciate how cold and
wet my boots will be in the morning.
If the sun rises bright and early and dries the world out, then I may
only have to spend eighteen hours in this tent.
