Windriver Mountains

Bridger Wilderness Area

Wyoming

August 13-16, 2003

(For complete photo album, click here.)

"Let's see…what could go wrong that I should have been prepared for?" I thought to myself. It seems like no matter how much time I have to prepare for a scout outing, I always end up using all the time and there inevitably seems to be something that I have forgotten. I ran through the list in my mind: food for 11 people for four days, first aid kit, adequate clothing for changing weather, fishing gear, a shovel for digging latrine holes, water filters to guard against giardia, sunscreen, rope to hang the food bags away from bears, cook stoves, etc., etc., etc. The trips over the years had generally been smoother and less worrisome than my early days of scouting but that unplanned emergency or accident and the increasing probability weighed subtly on my mind. With everything packed by 10 p.m. and what wasn't packed laid out on the table, I went to bed at 11 and rested comfortably.

At 7 a.m., the doorbell rang and here was Matthew Jonassaint saying they were waiting in the driveway. Boys loaded with packs collected from all over the neighborhood, some walking over and some being dropped off by their moms and dads. The sky was clear and the day was already starting to warm. I pulled out a set of bathroom scales so we could tell who was going to be the most miserable on the hike. I had weighed mine last night and with camera (8 plus pounds) I was at about 55 lbs-about 15 more than last week for Kings Peak. Most packs were between 30 and 40 pounds which was ok for this group but considering that some of them (like Andrew Scolara) probably didn't even break a hundred pounds on their own, they were good sized loads. As I started to pack things in the SUV, I noticed that Matthew only had a day pack and a large duffle bag. "How are you going to carry that?" I asked. "Aren't we going to camp by the car?" he said. Trever Newsom, always one to look ahead and see what needs to be done, said they had a pack at home that Matthew could use and immediately his dad went to get it. By the time I was down to putting in the last pack, Matthew had been fitted with a sturdy pack frame and everything was tucked inside.

The group consisted of eight of the twelve boys in the quorum. Brady Wells, Mark Arbon and Andrew were our newest members. Kevin Mitchell, our quorum president and the resident soccer expert, was here for his last adventure with the group. Other members were Trevor and Matthew and Brad Larsen and Chase Madsen, our veteran outdoorsmen and my hiking companions of last week. All in all, a first rate squadron of young men! Brad's dad, Mike, joined us along with Neal Henry, our longtime Varsity coach.

The drive to Pinedale, Wyoming was uneventful…very uneventful due to the desolate nature of the countryside which we passed through. Nothing green or living for miles and miles and miles. We stopped in Diamondville for a rest break, hit a little road construction, slowed down through LaBarge and Big Piney but were at the Sugar Shack in Pinedale at about 12:30 for lunch. We feasted on cheeseburgers and fries and a few of us stopped across the street at the hardware to buy fishing licenses before heading up through the foothills to Elkhart trailhead.

We put together our packs, put on hiking shoes and made final preparations where there was a water fountain and a latrine. I spent a few minutes orienting them to the nature of wilderness areas, the rules of no trace camping and how they were expected to behave while here. We signed in at the register box and entered the forest on the main trail.

Maybe it's just my active imagination but there is something magical, reverent, and enchanting about this area. The trail begins though fairly dense pines and follows a long, gradually climbing ravine with only one or two clearings. We met several other hikers loaded with back packs-some had fishing poles and others ice axes and ropes for climbing. Coming out was a group with llamas. We walked, mostly in silence, resting occasionally to catch our breath and drink from water bottles and Camelbaks. At about four miles, the path leveled off, stepping over large pine tree roots and sometimes bending around downed trees. It opened into a grass clearing and in the center of the clearing was a marker post and next to it was a park ranger named John.

Groups of 15 or more and scout groups of any size can only enter the Bridger Wilderness Area if they have a permit and Ranger John was checking for them. We had originally been permitted for upper Green River Lakes but there was a fire started by lightning in that area and so it was closed. John signed his name to our permit and the date, told us we had hiked four miles already and that the lakes we were headed for were just about ¾ of a mile down over the ridge.

As we started down the hill, Miller Lake came into view. Surrounded by pines, glassy smooth and clear to the bottom. There was a nice camp site at the bottom of the switchbacks but we decided to go on around to Sweeny Lake as it was a little more secluded and closer to where we might find some better fishing and a better base to hike from. It turned out to be more distance than we anticipated and the path was quite rocky but we all made it to a nice campsite on the west side of Middle Sweeny Lake.

We set up camp, filtered water from the lake for drinking and the set about fixing dinner. No fire restrictions had been in force since July 26th so we could only use camp stoves. Camp food is a far cry from when I was a scout trying to cook hamburgers over an open fire using a net woven together out of green willows. Mountain House rules! With the new zip lock bags, you just tear them open, pour in boiling water, seal them for 10 minutes and wahlah… you have a tasty meal of any ethnic variety. Favorites were spaghetti, beef stew, sweet and sour pork with rice, seafood chowder, and the best of all-beef stroganoff! I spent the evening boiling water over my high dollar camp stove. I had just purchased it before leaving and was taken by its nifty design. It folded up into a tiny pouch that fit in the hollow of a propane/butane can and was about 3 times as expensive as a regular size stove. The second pan of water I cooked, the supports got so hot that they melted and dumped the water on the ground! I straightened them with my pliers once it cooled and didn't put as much water in the pan from then on.

The evening temperatures had been forecast to drop to the thirties but it never got below 60 degrees which was very nice. There were a few mosquitoes but not too bad. The night was pleasant and with the long hike, everyone was ready for bed. One of the requirements for the boys' award is to read the Joseph Smith History so I read to them part of it as they lay in their tents and they all went to sleep without any excess noise.

Day two was for hiking. Andrew wasn't feeling to well and Matthew had his toe smashed when they were throwing rocks into the lake so he was limping but we all started together. Neal has knee problems from an old basketball injury so he didn't hike and I prevailed on Mike to come with us up to Seneca Lake. It was to be a 12 mile round trip. More than anything, I wanted the boys to see the majesty of the Windriver peaks and hoped that Seneca would be close enough to do so. We all started out with the idea that Matthew and Andrew would probably turn back after a short distance.

We hiked up through a little valley, past Upper Sweeny Lake. It was smaller than Middle Sweeny but beautiful and it looked like there were fish surfacing every once in a while-something we didn't see where we were camped. The sun was warm, the air was fresh and the morning lighting was absolutely beautiful. As we reached the top of the draw that leads up out of the lake area, the breathtaking panorama of the Windriver mountains came into view. Majestic, granite and spectacular. The rounding dome of Fremont, the jutting steepness of Jackson, the glacier of Sacagawea. In the far distance I pointed out Gannett-only because I had hiked it and knew where to look. Only a tiny portion of the peak was visible and it looked smaller than the rest because of its distance even though it's the tallest in Wyoming.

Matthew and Andrew turned back and the rest of us headed further into the realm of the mountain kings. We passed Barbara Lake and others stopping at Hobbs to filter water. Some fly fishermen were casting on its beautiful surface but we didn't see them catch anything. Purple and yellow wild flowers were out and the grasses were a vibrant green even though there was not much water flowing. Many of the outlets from the lakes where water overflows to run down to other lakes were dry. Beyond Hobbs, we passed about the only stream of water we saw the whole trip as it tumbling over rocks down a ravine from Seneca to the lower reaches of canyons below.

Our path was up and down, each climb providing a beautiful view and each ascent a lake or pond with solitude and tranquility. After a long climb, we eventually reached the view point over the west side of Seneca Lake. It is one of the largest lakes in the area and mostly above tree line. Its shores are a ring of granite boulders and rocks with mountains of granite behind. We sat on top of the rocks and ate lunch, resting for a little while. The clouds had been coming in and it was soon overcast and starting to rain. When we had left that morning, the sky was completely clear and none of us were dressed for rain or cold. The only protection that I had was a little shower cap for my camera case.

Fortunately it wasn't that cold or raining that hard and we started our return trip. One group of boys were off like a shot and we didn't see them again until camp. The rest of us took a leisurely pace, noticing the rain through the trees and the dry spots underneath large pines, the patterns of raindrops on the ponds and lakes and the pungent smells given off with the moisture. It was a very nice trip back.

That evening, there were gusts of wind and an occasional patter of raindrops but nothing to get us wet. As a precaution, we dug trenches and made water barriers around our tents. Matthew hosted everyone in his tent for cards and we played several hands of scum before reading more of the Joseph Smith History and retiring. We all slept with our rain flys on.

Friday, nothing definite was planned. The boys seemed to have great fun just climbing around the rocks on the lake and sitting around talking. Kevin, Brady, Matthew, Trevor and I decided to go up to Eklund Lake to see if we could find some fish. Kevin actually wanted to go to Hobbs but that would have been about a 10 mile round trip hike. At Eklund, we found some large rocks and they fished while I laid on my back and vaporized clouds. It was so peaceful and beautiful.

With no luck fishing, we decided to move to another lake and hiked over the small pass to Pole Creek lakes and then on to Marys. Kevin saw one fish but couldn't get it to take his hook. From Mary's there was another range of mountains visible to the southeast. Not quite as rugged but still beautiful. We ate some snacks for lunch and then decided to head back to camp as I had promised the boys we would go swimming when I returned.

In the middle of Middle Sweeny Lake is an island. It looked easy to get to but with the drowning death of one of the boys in Neal's old ward, we wanted to play it safe and not just let the boys go on their own. I went first and although it was cold, it wasn't unbearable. All the boys followed. As it turned out, it was shallow enough to walk to the island with the depth about up to my rib cage.

Once on the island, we opted to stay and warm up before going back. The wind was blowing and when dry we were fine but with the cold water and wind coming out, we wanted to dry off first. There were large granite rocks and with the little specs of black in them which were heated up nice by the sun. I wish I could remember or record the conversations that took place. The boys are hilarious at times. Such quick wits, funny comebacks and at times deep insights. Andrew can be so funny; Matthew's perspectives; Brad's loving abuse of his father; Trevor's saying whatever he's thinking without thinking first; Mark and more. Brady doesn't say much nor Kevin but Kevin comes up with some good ones. On the way back, we got into a splashing fight so everyone got some water up top. Trevor wasn't going to wash his face for the trip and it had gotten pretty dirty.

After drying off, Kevin wanted to make the two mile trek back up to Eklund to swim around those rocks. The seven others were all up for it as well and since I wanted to get a shot from the pass of the lake and mountains in the background, I agreed to take them. On the way up, we discussed the 36 inch rule. I haven't read it anywhere (but then I haven't wanted to). It's either the scout code or church code that states the highest platform that anyone can jump from is 36 inches. The boys pestered me all the way up to jump higher. I said the only one that could would be Brad and that was if his dad was there to take responsibility which he wasn't because he was in camp.

At the lake, we split up and Chase and I headed up the pass while Kevin lead the rest to the rocks on the far side of the lake. From the picture point, I could see them scaling down the 17 foot rock face to find a hold at about three feet where they could jump from. I saw several small splashes and then…a large one-one that couldn't have been made from 36 inches.

I had mixed feelings all the way down and around the lake to where they were. The sun was so nice, the water was clear and deep, the bottom was soft with no rocks and the cliff was clean and easy to jump from with good clearance. "A rule is no substitute for a brain," kept running through my head. I stripped to my shorts, jumped from the top, and couldn't even touch bottom. Kevin had gone first and also Brady (our resident swimmer), and Brad. Pretty soon, everyone was jumping-and I was taking pictures. We did a couple of group shots with all eight jumping at once. I was trying to get a continuous sequence but my camera died after two shots so the best angle didn't get taken. In addition to leaving my wallet (the major thing I forgot), I had left the extra camera battery and I was milking the one I had, letting it sit for a while and waiting for a enough charge to build to get one more shot. I ended up nursing 30 more pictures out of it after it first indicated empty.

I think the cliff jumping was a highlight for the boys. I remember Bishop McArthur saying that a good scout trip will include a little adrenalin and they got it jumping. They went until they were cold and tired and could hardly climb back up the granite. I later learned that a couple of them had cut their feet on the rocks a little but didn't want to say anything. Hiking back, we got split up a little and a couple of the kids said they got lost but they still made it back to camp ahead of me.

Another evening of boiling water. We had tons of food and so some of them ate multiple servings of Mountain House. This night, they seemed wired and not at all anxious to go to bed, even after finishing the history and prayer. Neal and Mike went to bed as they were going to head out a little early the next morning. With all the lights out, the boys were still standing around talking. I glanced at the sky and decided to take them down to the lake to get a good view of the stars without the trees overhead.

It was one of the most beautiful sites I have ever seen! The Milky Way was spread out all the way across the sky. The lake was so smooth and still and the stars so brilliant that you could see the reflection of the Milky Way in the water. The horizon was framed in the pointed darkness of pine trees.

We sat on the warm rocks and talked about all kinds of things-speed of light, Kolob, the number of moons in our solar system, which way the earth rotates, how close Mars is. No one really knew any of the constellations though several had their astronomy merit badges. We watched falling stars and decided that we wouldn't leave until everyone had seen one-Mark and Matthew never did because they kept looking at whoever was talking instead of the sky. It was a beautiful hour we spent there with all of heaven's majesty laid out before us in a warm, quiet setting.

We watched Mars rise. Next week it will be the closest it will be for the next 60,000 years. It first looked like a light bulb through the trees, going on and off as it moved upwards. Then it broke above the horizon and was clear and bright. I asked them if they could sense being on the earth and moving with it. Kevin quipped he was feeling it to the point he was dizzy and wanted to someone to hold him from falling. The horizon began to get more distinct as the late moon rise approached. We went to bed and I awoke as it came over the horizon at about 1 p.m.

Saturday morning, we packed our gear and headed down the trail to Miller Lake. I am so impressed with this group of kids. The campsite was clean and they had done a great job of no impact camping. Trevor offered to carry out all of the garbage as his pack was lightly loaded. We had a prayer and were off. Neal and I brought up the rear and Mike stayed with the majority of the pack. Again, the morning was beautiful. The colors of green on the small pines, the water lilies on some of the ponds, the crispness of the air.

I had the same feeling that I had after climbing Gannett-one of leaving an enchanted and mystical kingdom. I just wanted to drag my heels and looked for every opportunity to take it slow and look back. Miller Lake was beautiful and as we headed up the trail, we met a man coming down. As I approached, he said, "Peter?" It turned out to be Kelly Swenson. He was looking for the group from Soda Springs that we had met the day before near our camp. His boy was one of the scouts and he was coming to spend time with them. It was a good thing we met up as I don't know if he would have found them without my knowing where they had camped. Meeting him took me back to the time when his father was my first scout master and I felt good that I was being able to pass on some of the service that I had received.

Down the long ravine, through the dense pines for four miles, eventually to catch a glimpse of paved road and be dumped out into the parking lot. The boys had talked the last day of what they were going to order at the Sugar Shack and after stopping to take our picture at a scenic spot with the mountains in the background and a Windriver plaque in front, we dropped down into Pinedale where we filled up on hamburgers, hot dogs and fries.

As it turned out, this would be Neal's last activity with us as he was released the next day in church. He has been such a faithful support for the young men of the ward, every since he called me to be Young Men's president and then afterwards for the last four years as Varsity Coach. I was thinking as we returned that this had been an exceptional camp-one that would be hard to beat in the future. For Neal, I think it was a great way to exit!