DAY 6: IDAHO

The wind whipped against the tent for most of the night, sometimes so violently that it woke me up to the dome of the tent contorting above me. I looked at the weather report, but it only said 5-10mph winds. I’m not an expert, but this was not that. I was proud of Portland, for sleeping through it, or at least not freaking out. The wind was loud, but I never really felt like we were in any danger. My thirteen year old Target tent held her own, and in the middle hours of the night, I thought of a nickname, “Blue Steel”. I pictured my tent making that face from Zoolander at the wind.

In the morning, nothing seemed any worse for wear. The camp chair I’d left by the fire had fallen down, but nothing more. Portland and I walked to the bathroom building with pit toilets before dawn, and on the way back, a falling star! Since I’d fallen asleep early, I spent some time before “getting up” to finish the blog post for Day 5.

Then, I broke down camp and started to boil water on my camp stove to make Yerba Mate and oatmeal for breakfast. The cold water took so long to boil in the remaining light wind that we took a walk down the path towards the beach while we waited. It was about a third of a mile each way, but we didn’t make it to the water. Although I had put my contacts in, I kept squinting at that brown ball on the beach and wondering, is that a buffalo? Not wanting to get too close. But it never moved. We jogged a little on the soft sand, Portland warm on this chilly morning in his silly puff coat, and giddy, jumping with excitement.

When we got to the hard, packed sand that was caked with salt, we saw that the “bison” on the beach was actually a large hollow metal ball. Maybe some sort of old rusted anchor or buoy? Whatever it was, Portland didn’t like it. We could’ve walked further but decided to turn back. I didn’t want to have to tell Portland that he couldn’t drink the salt water.

Back at camp, the water was a good temperature for my Yerba and I poured it into the waiting Hydroflask. There was not enough water left for oatmeal, but I didn’t want to waste more time so we packed up and away we went. We passed a buffalo coming up from the beach on the sand along our way.

I planned on getting ready in the shower building by the beach - if showers were available. They were not. I knew this was possible since it’s off season, so I ended up going through my morning routine and getting changed in the beachfront parking lot, doing that thing where you turn your two car doors into a changing stall. The only awkward part is that the lot kept slowly filling with construction workers arriving for their work day.

We made it off the island, seeing a group of six more buffalo near the Visitor Center on our way out. It was neat because one of them had a bird sitting on its back just like you would see in a nature documentary. I may have captured a picture on my Nikon -- but that will have to wait until after the trip when I open the “big camera” photo time capsule!

Back on the mainland, it was already later than I’d planned on leaving, but the lure of finishing the blog post on WIFI sucked me in. Instead of turning right onto the freeway, I went left into the McDonalds parking lot. They had no internet, but I ended up getting breakfast before hitting the road -- a wonderful decision! I rarely eat fast food, usually only when I’m traveling. The two for four dollar sausage, egg and cheese biscuits were out of this world, and of course Portland enjoyed the final bite. Remember our chilly, windy night spent in the tent and it really makes the McBreakfast so much more necessary. I got a coffee too, saving some of my tea for later in the drive.

We were (finally) off on the road through Utah towards Idaho, where I made another miraculous pull over in time to get a picture with the welcome sign. I have a collection of these photos. The speed limit was eighty on this road, so the cars flying by sounded extra loud and zingy as they passed.

At first, Idaho seemed a little unimpressive, passing through more civilization than Wyoming, but kind of bland with fields and a lot of open space. Once I was off onto smaller highways, things got more interesting. In the direction of Craters of the Moon National Monument, we passed some sort of alternative energy area or station that for some reason made me think of Area 51 when I saw their signs posted.

On smaller roads passing through towns of under one thousand people, the drive was scenic and interesting even though time seemed to move slow. Mountain drives always take more time than you think they will. But how could you complain when you’re surrounded by mountains. Grey mountains to my right and brown to my left, the grey ones were more rigid and craggy while the brown ones were softer in appearance. In the towns, you could tell where there was a home because of the grove of trees surrounding it. There were almost no tall trees that weren’t near a home, and I thought about how many years those houses must have been there for the trees to grow that big.

Yellow leaved autumn trees highlighted the landscape in mountain ranchland. The “game on road” or “stock on road” signs I’ve been seeing finally became accurate when suddenly a big herd of black cattle were gathered across the road, accompanied by a cloud of dust, five or six herding dogs and the same number of cowboys and cowgirls on horseback, holding up traffic and herding them into place. It was amazing to watch.

There were so many cows, probably over a hundred, and within a minute or two they had them all moved over to the side of the road, while maintaining their forward momentum. The cowboy at the rear of the herd waved the traffic to keep moving, confident that his team would fall into line, even before they did. It was definitely a highlight of the drive. Very impressive to see people and their dogs and horses working together as a team.

On through the mountains toward Stanley on the last long mountain pass of the trip. The drive was beautiful, following the Salmon River through the mountains that evolved from more barren or shrubby mountains to those covered with tall and skinny ponderosa pine and back again. The winding road went through more small towns and the miles slowly ticked down, but I did arrive at Stanley rv + camp/Basecamp Hostel about a half an hour earlier than my quote from Waze. Yeah!

Stanley is a small mountain town with the dramatic Sawtooth Mountains, grey and jagged and snow capped dominating the skyline, there are only 63 year round residents in this town. At the lodge, I stopped on the porch to check in and found a paper with my name and information on it. The A Frame cabin, “Forest Dreams,” that we’re staying in was just across the driveway, tucked in on the edge of the property. The Stanley rv + camp Basecamp Hostel is where we were originally going to stay, in a private (dog friendly) room, but on this new trip plan the A Frame was available, how fun! We made a quick stop and I unloaded a few things and made the bed with blankets and a sleeping bag. The space heaters were not turned on so I turned on the wall unit so it wouldn’t be ice cold when we returned. It was around forty degrees out now, and last night it was as low as 13 degrees.

I set the GPS to Redfish Lake area, but then passed a sign for the Iron Creek Trail, just down the street from the A Frame, and decided to hike there instead. Down a long graded dirt road, the parking lot was somewhat busy, but it was also referred to as a connector camp, or something a bit different on the roadway sign. Not just a trailhead. Here at the Iron Creek Trail, it was about a mile in to the Sawtooth Wilderness. The wilderness permit box at the start to the trail indicated that everyone hiking would need a permit, even day use hikers. I felt a little silly filling out a wilderness permit and hanging it on my pack for my one hour hike, but I was thrilled at the same time! I’d never filled out a wilderness/backcountry permit before -- and I was alone (with Portland, of course)!

I had to add a jacket, hat and layer for the cooler temps in the mid-thirties, and hung my bear bell on my pack, why not? I wasn’t familiar with the area and it seemed like the type of place a bear might pop up. We started the hike through the rows of pines, catching glimpses of the gorgeous Sawtooth Mountains through the trees as we walked. I was always searching for that perfect clearing or vantage point for a photo. We didn’t see anyone for a little while on our hike, but then started to pass others, and many people were walking with their dogs.

The hike was beautiful, and this is one of those places where I hate to be rushed. I wish I had more time and could spend days hiking or even backpacking in this area and seeing all there is to see. But, that will have to wait for another time. In the Dad style of travel, I’m getting a glimpse of a lot of places and then I can choose which ones I have to return to. I have a feeling that this will be one. Good thing I have some friends that like to come to Idaho (this is a test to see if they’re reading along)!

We made it a little over a mile, just past the sign for the Sawtooth Wilderness. It was hard to turn back. Like the Disney song, “Just Around the Riverbend,” I kept wondering what was just around the next bend in the trail and if it offered the picture perfect, breathtaking view. But, it was time to turn back.

On the way back we only saw a few more people since it was early evening, and two guys I passed commented on my bear bell. I told them I wasn’t sure if it was necessary and they said that there aren’t really bears here, there’s no food source...except for us. So I told them I’d rather it not be me. I laughed, but then later decided to silence my bear bell. I thought it added a cheerful jingle to the hike, in any case. It made me think. This may not have been the most remote trail, or truly worthy of the wilderness permit, but I felt confident and unafraid (being cautious does not mean you’re afraid), and I know even a year or two ago I may not have felt confident in hiking here.

Back at the trailhead, we drove back toward town and I wanted to find Boat Box Hot Springs that had been listed on the suggestions from the AirBnb. It was just outside of town and I hadn’t seen it in my initial research. It is just off the highway we came in on, 75, and in this metal tub that looks sort of like a brown cauldron on the riverside.

I pulled over at Boat Box, wearing my swimsuit underneath my hiking clothes, ready for a quick dip, but there were a couple of big white trucks already in the turnout area. I got out of the car and saw a few pools down along the river with guys sitting around in them, and then in the metal cauldron thing that is supposed to fit two people, about four guys all jammed inside. It was a funny sight, but nope. I ducked back to my car and decided to head to Redfish Lake, the spot I had originally intended to hike at my friend’s recommendation.

On the way, I passed the restaurant I’d seen in a quick search of local restaurants, and decided to treat myself to dinner rather than making a camp meal tonight. It’s been a few long days of driving, and it looks like tomorrow might be a bit longer than I originally thought.

Redfish was not far past Stanley at all. This is actually the reason I decided to stay here rather than Boise, its proximity to hiking and hot springs that I wanted to visit. I drove through Redfish, past campgrounds I’d originally considered staying at, but most are now closed for the season, and drove down to the lake. I got Portland out of the backseat, and we walked on the beach for a few minutes. These were the incredible mountain views I’d been searching for - and in the daylight that had started to fade, it was even more dramatic. Portland, ever the water dog, started to wade into the water without giving it even a thought. It must have been cold, because he turned around pretty quickly and didn’t go back in!

After our walk on the beach, we headed back to Stanley and I called my friend Liz to talk for a few minutes. I’ll be meeting up with her tomorrow in Oregon for a girls’ weekend, and we’re both excited! I haven’t seen her since she visited Pittsburgh (her hometown) in the summer of 2019, but traditionally I’ve visited her in Oregon once or twice a year since 2008. We made our plans for when to meet, and shared a few quick stories, and by then I had parked outside the Bridge Street Grill, and a truck full of three hunters had pulled up and walked in before me. I wanted to ask what they were hunting, but never got the chance.

I made sure the car was warm for Portland and packed up my computer so I could get some blog work done while I ate. The dining room looked out on the Salmon River and the Sawtooth Mountains, but all the tables by the windows were taken. They had a nice back patio right on the water, but it was too cold and getting dark for that.

I ordered an Idaho Brewing Company beer called Maggie’s Dog Slobber Brown Ale. One of only two beers they had on tap, and the only local beer, so it made my decision easy. The beer was good, and I connected to their spotty WIFI and started to work. I ordered the Idaho Ruby Red Trout, that was simply seasoned and served with capers, and came with bread, a baked potato and a Caesar salad to start. It was a good meal and a really nice big piece of trout. I considered taking some with me for tomorrow morning -- I was thinking of a bagel with cream cheese and trout, but instead I finished it all. No cream cheese, anyways, and I don’t think I’ll be finding a Starbucks in Stanley. I got enough work done, despite the spotty internet, and finished up and then decided to make another attempt at the hot springs.

Portland looked like he’d been woken up from a very cozy nap when I returned to the car. I drove the few minutes down the road to the hot spring pull off, and there was only one car there, but it was dark so I got out to see what the situation was. I don’t know what I really thought I could see in the pitch dark, but a guy called up from the cauldron tub that they’d be headed out in half an hour or so. Was it worth it to wait? Maybe not, but it wasn’t even 8pm, and I had an idea.

The people at the restaurant had told me the WIFI was poor because it was located closer to their cottages, so I drove back and parked in their lot and finished my post from my in car work station, with very fast internet in this spot.

The timing worked perfectly. I posted the blog, debated on just heading back to the A Frame, but then decided I was here for one night only and might as well live it up. Back to Boat Box Hot Springs where the same car was still parked, and when they saw me pull up they headed out, calling, “it’s all yours!”

I grabbed a lantern, towel, and my last bottle of beer from Greenbush in Michigan, the Dunegras IPA, and found my way down the uneven natural rock steps that descended from the roadside. The temperature was in the high 20s, so I didn’t waste time other than to take a picture in the dark, before trying to figure out how to get from the rocks up into the cauldron.

I grabbed hold of the cold metal siding and decided to try to jump/heave myself up like you would get out of a swimming pool. I didn’t anticipate the cold metal to be a bit slippery and my hand slid away and I went crashing down into the abyss. At least it was warm where I landed among the rocks just a few feet down, really. I dusted off and climbed back up and into the cauldron. It would’ve been fun to see during the day (and easier entry, I’m sure), but you couldn’t beat seeing the starry sky from that spot in the warm water on the side of the river. Within a few moments, and even with my lantern lit back on the rocks, I could make out the band of the Milky Way, the reflection of the light on the river, and the outline of the smaller foothill mountains that lined the river’s far side. It was beautiful and I would’ve loved to stay for longer. I enjoyed my beer and the views and the warm water that smelled only slightly of sulfur, saw a shooting star, and then, mission complete, climbed out and hurried to put on enough layers to make it back to the car and the A Frame.

I stopped for gas in Stanley on the way back, knowing that would be one less thing to do in the morning and within ten minutes or so we were back “home” for the night. A few elk had crossed the road in front of us in town, and I'm betting that's what was in season for the hunters. At the A Frame, it was still a bit cold inside, so I plugged in another space heater and brought some more things in. Another short freestyle yoga with a lot of side stretching and a cup of hot rooibos, mushroom and orange peel tea, heated in the microwave. The WIFI connection at the A Frame is mostly non-existent. Might have to try the other side of the lot in the AM, but it is a nice spot to write for the night. Portland is snoozing under wool blankets and we’ve got one last big haul into Oregon tomorrow before we get a few days to rest, more or less.