My Brother, My Son, And I Went For A Bike Ride

My brother John and my son Geoff and I had quite the adventure riding the Idaho Hot Springs Mountain Bike Loop. There are too many stories to be told here so I'm providing a number of photos and some short snippets. Riding the loop is hard work, but it's also rewarding. There were areas that seem so desolate and lost. There were wonderful people along the way. 

Geoff, me, and John just after breakfast on day one. 

Our bikes and gear weigh between 72 and 80 pounds.

 Climbing. It's what you do on the loop.

Although there are some 50 or so hot springs along the way, we stopped at very few of them. Some are privately owned. Some we missed because we weren't watching the GPX map on our phones. And sometimes the last thing you want to do during the heat of the day is sit in hot water. 

An entrenchment tool makes for an interesting bicycle head badge. We never needed it but Geoff brought it along just in case. He's super fit so the extra couple of pounds didn't faze him.

A persistent chipmunk at the Deer Flat campground between Warm Lake and Stanley. While we were eating lunch at the picnic table we heard, CRACK! Crack-crack-crack-crack-CRASH! A tree about 50 yards away fell towards us. We were in any danger but it sounded like it was coming through the trees right at us so it was a bit alarming.

One of the summits between Warm Lake and Stanley.

Who wouldn't want one?

John ordered a cinnamon roll to go in Stanley. It lasted him four days.

Somewhere on the first day of riding, a rock or something hit my rear derailleur cage and broke part of it. We bent it back into place and figured it would be okay for the duration. It wasn't. On the third day and about 26 miles out of Stanley, the cage gave up the ghost. To top it off, John, who was our mechanic, was no longer with me and Geoff. The climbs were really getting to him and the fact that his small chain ring had 28 teeth didn't help at all. So when he left Stanley, he took the Lowman Cutoff which gave a him a shorter route back to his truck. Geoff and I were about six miles away from the highway. Fortunately, we had about 600 feet of elevation to drop down so I coasted most of the way back. We stuck our thumbs out and in five minutes we were being loaded into a pickup truck. The mechanic at the bike rental shop in Stanley had a busted bike with a good derailleur. He installed it and we were back on the road. But now it was 4:30 pm and we had 67 miles to get to Ketchum and an 8700 foot summit to get over. As fate would have it there was a strong, hot headwind blasting our faces to make our trip even better. I had enough of that after 15 miles and stopped where there was room for someone to pick us up. We stuck out our thumbs again. An 80-year-old German-American woman named Juda (yoo-duh) stopped and saved our bacon. Juda has quite the life story, which I will share some day. She dropped us off in Ketchum and we were extremely grateful.

Geoff and I on our first attempt to leave Stanley.

Geoff's panoramic shot of what lie ahead not long before my derailleur broke.

The Ketchum to Featherville section was pretty tough. First we had an 8700-foot summit to get over. Then we had a long ride in the heat. I knew a section of the route between Ketchum and Featherville was washed out but that it was also passable on foot. Signs and people along the way warned us about the big washout and that the road was closed. We paid them no mind. An oasis we stopped at, The Big Smokey Bar, we got to drink ice cold Cokes and Gatorade.

You call this a washout?

When we reached the washout we found it wasn't all that bad. It seemed to us everyone was making a big fuss over nothing. Then we hit the real washout.

We had about 1/3 mile of clambering over and through rocks to get to the other side. Geoff and I offloaded our gear and carried across and then returned for our bikes. It added about an hour to the day's trip. We crossed paths with two Australian women who were the first loop riders we'd seen so far. They were doing the southern section.

 Hike a bike time.

The ride from the washout to our destination, Featherville, was hot and dry. We were loaded with dust when we rolled up. We got a beer at the Featherville Saloon and then grabbed dinner at Cyndie's Cafe where we dutifully signed the register as Hot Springs Loop riders. A room with two beds and a shower at the motel was a bargain at $64 so we treated ourselves.

Leaving Featherville, we decided to use two days to get to Idaho City. Geoff and I saw no sense in doing a 1000 and then a 2000-foot climb and then follow those late in the day with a 4000-foot one. After the two climbs it turned into another scorching day. About 10 miles from our destination, the Cottonwood Campground, we found George's Tavern, yet another place in the middle of nowhere with cold drinks. Two other bikers were there. They were doing the route counterclockwise. We told them about the washout but that it was passable. They had a third member who had trouble getting over the 4000-foot climb and was somewhere behind them. His name was Alex. About five minutes after leaving George's we found Alex sitting in the shade. We told him the other two were just a few minutes ahead drinking Coors and Mike's Hard Lemonade.

"Get out of here!" And he waved us away.

I don't think he believed us. So we left him there to kick himself later for not getting up and going. When we arrived at the campground we saw the canyon ahead of us was filled with smoke and ash was lightly falling on us. That made us a bit uncomfortable but since the wind had died down we just went with it. It was clear in the  morning. The climb going to Idaho City was long and hard. I walked a couple of times not only because it was steep but to give my butt a rest from being ground into the saddle. Soft tissue management is a must on a trip like this. If you get behind (pardon the pun) you may never catch up. And it's painful.

The 4000-foot climb on the way to Idaho City.

 To call this a road would have been a kindness.

Peaking at an unnamed summit.

Coming down from the top we ran into John who had since made his way back to McCall and his truck. He brought cold drinks and the fixings to make sandwiches. What a welcome sight and what a high point of our ride. The icing on the cake was being relieved of much of the weight we were carrying on the bikes and putting that stuff in the truck.

John  had scoped out Idaho City for us. All the motels were full. The city was being used as a base for the fire fighters. But the owner of Idaho City Lodge would probably let us pitch our tents in the back yard. And the power was out because of the fire. (There were two fires. One between Idaho City and Boise and one northeast of Idaho City. The first knocked out the power. The second was being fought from Idaho City.) Cinda, the owner and proprietor, charged us three $20 to camp in the back yard and she provided towels for the shower. The power came back on. We bought steaks and salad and shared a barbecue with Cinda and two guests. Cinda made the best potato casserole I've ever tasted.

The wildfire off in the distance from Crouch was not in our way.

From Idaho City we passed through Crouch and camped at the Trail Creek Campground. That meant we'd attack the first climb early in the morning when it was cool and hope the third climb (2000 feet) wouldn't be too hot.  John scouted out Cascade and found it busy with everyone coming out for the weekend. We scored tent sites at an RV campground where we also had showers and laundry. My single jersey, shorts, and sun sleeves were grimy looking even though I rinsed them out just about every day we traveled.

Our final leg from Cascade to McCall was an easy 53 miles in comparison to what we'd done already. My butt was tired after nine days in the saddle so I was relieved to be done.

There's more to be said but for now I'm thankful these two great people were with me. 

Geoff's pictures are posted here.

Zion Narrows Canyon

About a year ago my sister Jan asked me and Kathy if we'd like to backpack through the Zion Narrows Canyon. She and her husband Chip love the outdoors and they've spent a lot of time enjoying the wilderness. While Jan is certainly no slouch, Chip has done some serious hiking.

Last year they had a permit but the park was closed due to the government shutdown so they missed out. They really wanted to go and asked us to join them. Kathy was all for it so we waited as Jan applied for an October permit so we'd catch the fall colors. Permits are awarded via a lottery process.

We won!

The shuttle dropped us off with about 16 other people. Each group had an assigned camp site for the night. We were at camp site #1, which is at the confluence of Deep Creek and the North Fork Virgin River. The weather forecast was great so we didn't need to worry about flash floods. Flash floods in a canyon are not to be taken lightly.

 Me, Jan, Chip, and Kathy all loaded up and ready to roll.

For the first couple of miles we hiked on a dirt road, which eventually became a trail, which led us into the canyon. Then we donned our rented neoprene socks and canyon boots since we would be walking in the river for most of the trip. Kathy and Jan wore their dry pants the first day to keep from getting chilled by the water. The water was shallow for most of the first day with a couple of spots that were almost knee high.

 The sand bars were easier to walk on. I can't begin to count how many times we criss-crossed the water.

 Beautiful country.

 The fall colors were impressive.

This was not only Kathy's first ever backpacking trip, but this was the first time she'd ever slept outside in a tent. We had concerns but Kathy maintained a positive attitude the whole time and she had a great time even though this is a difficult hike. By the way, there were many opportunities for us to stand in awe of the trees and rocks tossed about by rushing water. 

 Chip and Jan leading the way.

The view from the top of Dead Man Falls.

 The falls from below.

 Campsite #1 - Our home for the night.

After six hours we arrived at our camp site. It was great to dry out our feet. We set up our tents, ate dinner, drank some wine, and chatted into the night. When night falls, which it seemed to do quickly, the darkness in a canyon is dramatic.

Kathy is very susceptible to the cold and I was worried she'd spent a cold night in the tent. But the Merino wool long johns and the high-tech sleeping bag and sleeping pad kept her toasty. She got a great night's sleep. We boiled water for tea in the morning and had a light breakfast before breaking camp and continuing our trip.

 One of the deeper spots. 

The deepest part we had to go through was chest deep, which means shoulder high for five-foot tall Kathy. But it was about waist high if you could cling to a rock outcropping and step way around onto a small ledge. I thought it was pretty cool that she and I successfully navigated that.

Crossing some swift moving water.

The fun had to end at some point. Unfortunately, it was sooner than expected. The one-day and two-day trips starting at the head of the canyon require a permit. As a result there are very few people along the way. Although we crossed paths with other small groups now and then, for the most part it felt like we had the place to ourselves. That changed after we got through the deepest water on the second day. Day hikers can walk upstream to that point without a permit. So we ran into lots and lots of people coming up the river. We reached the River Walk, a paved trail, after six hours and changed into dry shoes and socks. Then we hiked to the other end of the walk and caught the shuttle bus back to the park entrance. Tired and hungry, we checked into our hotel, got cleaned up, and consumed an excellent meal at a Southwest-style establishment called The Bit & Spur Restaurant.

It looks like I have a new camping partner. Kathy says she's willing to give it another try. How cool is that?

30DOB - Day 29/30 s24o

I took the afternoon off from work, loaded my camping gear on the bike, and rode over to the Bowl and Pitcher at Riverside State Park. Fifteen bucks got me a "primitive hiker/biker site" in the overflow area. There are no sites marked as such but I was told I could pitch my tent pretty much anywhere near a fire pit. I found a spot overlooking the river. 

I was the only occupant of the overflow area so it felt like I had the whole park to myself. I spent a relaxing afternoon taking photos and enjoying the quiet solitude. Well, I wouldn't call the rushing river quiet. But it was a soothing white noise.

Osprey flew overhead and called to each other. Ducks and geese flew low over the water. Bumble bees lumbered awkwardly just above ground level, stopping to investigate in between fallen pine needles. Butterflies decorated the flora. Rafters and kayakers went by with big smiles on there faces. 

I had the best night's sleep. I can't remember the last time I slept for nine hours.

I woke up to the cold morning with only my face exposed to the air. Condensation had collected on my mustache. I got out of bed reluctantly. After all, I had to go to work. There's something about being cold and having to go to the bathroom that makes you walk with a purpose when the bathroom is 100 yards away. Back at camp I fired up my little stove and had water boiling for tea in a few minutes. I put a Clif bar in my pocket to warm it up so it would soften up and be easier to eat.

After my small breakfast, I packed everything up and pedaled into town, feeling great and with a big smile on my face.

Base camp.

 Walking bridge across the Spokane River.

 An osprey nest two trees away and way up high.

 My amateur rock balancing.

 Sunrise this morning.

It's like I was never there.

Wilderness Backpacking Tip

Before you buy or rent (like John and I did) a bear cannister, call the ranger stations near where you're going and see if they have loaners. When we picked up our back country permit we found the Marblemount station had about 40 cannisters on hand and you can borrow them for free.

Back So Soon?

On Sunday morning John and I parked at the trailhead, got on the East Bank Trail and headed east to begin our loop. We followed Ruby Creek for a while and then started our climb.


The weather was nice but when you're carrying 50 pounds on your back you tend to work up a sweat. Once we hit the Pasayten Wilderness we started in on the serious climbing.


Switchback after switchback we slowly made our way up on our way to McMillan Park. I don't know if our memories of the Wonderland Trail trek just kept the good parts but both of us thought this trail was steeper. And for being in the wilderness we sure did cross paths with a lot of people. There must be some sort of bizarre trail etiquette that requires people coming down the trail to tell the people going up "it's not that far" or "you're almost there." A father-son team encouraged us to go to Devil's Park which is a couple miles past McMillan Park. They said it was much nicer there.

After slogging uphill for hours we came to the Crater Lake trail junction. A threesome there told us there was plenty of camping at McMillan Park (and we were almost there) and that there were already several campers there. Thankful that the worst of the climbing was over we pressed on. John had developed a problem with his ankle and it was getting pretty painful for him so we were eager to set up camp and rest. Intrepid scouts and backcountry experts that we were, we walked right by McMillan Park without realizing that was it. For one, we were expecting to see other people and we didn't see a single camp. We pressed on to Devil's Park and stopped at the first campsite we found. It was a 12-mile day.


Fire was the first order of business. That's the way it is when you're camping.


Of course, once you set up camp the deer start coming around and sticking their tongues at you for intruding on their habitat.

We ate dinner and burned most of our wood and crashed at 8:00 pm. We were tired with a capital T. I was out quickly and slept pretty good except for when John woke me to tell me I was snoring real loud. The night was cold and moisture built up on everything so we woke to a cold, damp start. But the ten hours of sleep felt good. Poor planning meant we didn't have any dry tinder to start a fire with so I used my Wind Pro stove to get some flames going. Worked like a charm.


I got water from a nearby stream so we could hydrate some more dehydrated food. Once the sun reached us we could lay stuff out to dry. John tested his ankle out and thought it best not to continue. The remainder of the loop had more elevation change than our first day and we both thought it wise to head back.

Once we got everything dried out, we packed up and retraced our steps. It was easier going since we didn't have to climb much. But going down a steep trail is still pretty tough on the legs, even with the trek poles taking some of the load off. On the way down I counted the switchbacks from the top down to the Pasayten Wilderness sign and came up with 67. "Almost there" my ass. Don't even tell me that.


We stopped at one waterfall that crosses the trail and John iced his ankle. Fresh snow melt is the most refreshing drink ever, but make sure you get it upstream from the guy soaking his foot.

It's a shame we had to cut it short, but these things happen. We'll just have to try another trip next year.

No Posts For A While

I'm off to backpack the Devil's Dome Loop (scroll down) with my brother John. We drive up today and hit the trail tomorrow morning. We're taking our time and plan to finish in 4-5 days unlike some people who do it all at once.

Later.

Bedtime Reading

Back in August, my brother John and I backpacked the Wonderland Trail. There was, quite understandably, a comment about the "2 measly photos and a paragraph" I gave at the time. I'm done writing and rewriting and for the time being I'm making it available online. Feel free to check out Break Out The Knife And Just Start Stabbing.

I have visions of people asleep in bed with the laptop on top of them, the battery warning beep patiently reminding it's about to--.

The Wonderland Trail

I almost forgot I put this together. I'm still working on the story (and hoping it turns out halfway decent) but here's some photos of me and my brother John from our backpacking trip on the Wonderland Trail. Music is by Rusted Root.


Backpacking the Wonderland Trail from h greer on Vimeo.

Put The "Done" Stamp On That

John and I had an amazing and arduous backpacking adventure around Mt Rainier. We experienced beautiful scenery, mosquitoes, gale force winds, hot days, freezing nights, rain, sleet, steep ascents/descents, fording a freezing white water river, and ninety-three miles of walking with 40+ pounds on our backs. We had originally planned to finish in eleven days but bad weather forced us to speed up and cut it to nine.