August something, 2004. Death March in Eagles Nest Wilderness Area.
Humans: Rob, Lori, Kenny, Madi
Canines: Kaiser, Sophie, Bailey, Charlie, Harley
We finally got the stars to line up and arranged a BP trip with Kenny and Madi, busy bees that they are. The “plan” this time is to head up to Salmon Lakes in the Eagles Nest Wilderness area just north of Silverthorne. The trailhead was nice and full of mosquitoes as we geared up quickly and practically ran away from the trucks. There are other ways to the actual trail for this hike, but they involve either a shuttle or catching the Summit Shuttle (no dogs allowed) into some fancy-pants neighborhood where one is not allowed to park, so we headed in from the North on a connecting trail.
Just a few hours up the trail we break for lunch next a very nice pond liberally decorated with lily pads in bloom, an area popular with moose I imagine. The trail itself is less traveled and numerous flat spots and plentiful water, curiously without the bugs, prompts Lori and I to propose we set up camp here and do the lakes as a day hike. Denied (snap your fingers…awwww shucks). Next time.
Onwards and upwards (kinda). The trail we are on is working its way south along a contour line with no appreciable changes in elevation, thankfully, until it intersects the trail heading up to Salmon Lakes. Even though the trail is relatively flat for being in the mtns, it is still a bit long and is leading us to a tougher trail. I am mindful of what the afternoon might bring. Reaching the intersection we are promptly passed by several large groups of climbers and packers and I get a little stressed about finding a campsite. Adding to the stress, the trail takes on a sadistic inclination up a steep cobbled slope. Madi is getting tired and we are just getting going. I feel your pain niece-ling!
I dull my mind and plod along concentrating on nothing, as I usually do during hard sections. We ascend the steep slope and trudge on and on, finally reaching the fork where one can take a short hike to the lower lakes or do another mile half mile or so to Salmon Lake. Rumor has it everyone is at the short side so we head up the longer route. Lori and I are dubious of whether there are campsites up there at all, so Kenny is volunteered to head up and scout (we would regret this later). Approximately 10 mins pass and the two-way chirps at us, “come on up”. The report we get is rosy and the girls and I move out passing some primo spots up in the trees. Wow, he must have found something really good if we aren’t grabbing one of these sites, I muse. We keep going, following the voice on the radio telling us we are getting warmer. The available campsites are thinning rapidly as the mtns begin to crowd nearer and nearer towards the stream feeding the lake. Ah, there is our boy, hanging out next to the waterfall crashing down the huge, steep boulder field. What in the hell does he have in mind?
A quick meeting and we are informed that he talked to a nice couple coming down who said there is a great flat spot up above where we will be quite happy. I should have noted, they did not have a dog or a child with them and that they were in fact ascending the mountains, all of which looked sheer to me. I am seeing red flags but Kenny pressed us on towards Shangri-la. Half an hour of scrambling up the boulder field and we are truly in a pinch now with little resembling a space to put a tent. We are bushwhacking in dense forest or really thick muskeg type stuff, the girls are looking mutinous. Telling all to hold position, I drop my pack and head for the top, noodling all along the way for this mythical spot. I top out in a nice bare saddle, but the only place flat enough to put a tent is also really soggy with a little stream flowing through it. Not acceptable, and I don’t know if I could get back up there with a pack if I wanted to. The thought of urging the girls up here makes me tremble in fear…we need a “Plan B” post haste.
I can’t muster the courage to give my report over the radio and besides I want to be present for the formulation of “Plan B” (this should always have an echo sound when you read it) so I drop back down to the crowd sprawled in the grass waiting impatiently. Daylight is getting a little short and everyone is really tired so I mention a spot I noticed on the way by the waterfall. Reluctantly, I drag everyone over to the spot with two semi flat shelves where we can park for the night. It is down in a dark depression and surrounded by thick trees, but it will work and we set up for the night. Besides the fact the spot does not have a good view and is sort of gloomy, access to the stream as it cascades over the boulders is just a short stroll away. As a bonus, there are good lounging rocks where one has a fantastic view of the lake. Pondering the scenery while filtering water I give myself a little pat on the back. This ain’t so bad afterall! It is big nap time…we earned it this time. After the mandatory passout we whip up some yummy dinner and enjoy a little hard earned scotch. Evening fades to night and with no campfire we retire a little early, cracking good jokes about sharing tents with gassy dogs etc.
As always, I sleep better when Kenny is with us, must be the strength in numbers thing and wake feeling quite refreshed. Lori and I had planned to stay a couple of days out here, but this spot is not what we were looking for and decide to head out with Kenny and Madi. We bounce around the idea of staying at the sweet duck pond. We pass a primo spot that was occupied last evening and the quiet is interrupted by a bunch of profanity coming from Lori and Kenny. It seems the pigs that camped here last night did not really use cat holes and there is shitpaper all over the place smeared with fecal matter. After lots of grumbling and bitching they decide they’d better do something about it and use a baggie to grab up the offending trash. But wait. No one wants to carry the nasty stuff and I pull the short straw or something because suddenly it is in my exterior stash pocket. Sigh. Anything to help Mother Nature.
When we reached the duck pond we took another snack break and Lori and I decided to just march on out with the rest of the troops. We are seriously beat and there won’t be much to do besides recuperate…might as well do that at home. Saddle up! Let’s move ‘em out! By the time we finally reach the trailhead we are all hurtin’ for certain. Madi is truly impressive on this march seeing as we have done 14+ mtn miles in two days without a layover and not in peak condition. To this day Madi still uses this hike as a pain threshold datum point for all comparisons. For example, her first snow shoeing adventure was ranked a few notches below this backpacking trip.
Lastly, one of the most fortunate things about this trip is I had talked Lori into buying some expensive Aslolo boots at retail price because I liked mine soo much. Had she not bought the boots I think she would have been crippled out on the trail. Ordinarily, buying hiking boots and hitting the trail can be murder for your feet, but not with these particular models. When you put them on it is as if you have always owned them, they are that comfortable. Add some superfeet insoles and you are dialed. Everything else will get sore way before your feet and that is a bold statement for a backpacker to make.