Howdy, Cruiser and I would love to show ya the Sawtooths! Follow us on this fantastic journey.
"Okay, nice mount! Pull the reins to the left to make him go left, right to make him go right. Pull the reins toward you to make him stop. Okay, that's how you ride a horse! Let's go!" And with that we were off! I'm riding a horse? I'm not even clipped in! And that's an awful long way down to the ground. Didn't Superman get paraplegic'd on one of these things?! What the hell was I getting into?!
Cooper owned these mountains evidently. And he was quick to show us how you do things up there.
My dad and I had planned this a year ago. An epic trip into the Sawtooth Wilderness of Idaho by horseback.....in the name of fly fishing at least on paper. In the name of loving my dad everywhere else. Not to worry cuz he ain't going anywhere soon, but if it's all the same I wouldn't mind racking up a few epic trips with him so that when it's too late I have a lot of fond memories to draw from. I have a good dad....a great dad. And I intend to savor the moments.
Day 1
Our guide from Valley Ranch Outfitters, Randy and Unnamed Horse, his Australian shepherd Cooper (evidently the boss of the operation), 2 pack mules and a pack horse, dad on Sedona the Horse, and me on Cruiser the Horse were outward bound, and we left our women to tend to the corn, children and clotheslines at 4th of July Creek near Stanley, Idaho. 5 miles later we would arrive at Hell Roaring Lake in the Sawtooth Wilderness. The trip was uneventful - except for the fact that I was on a horse! - but the view when we arrived was spectacular!
Hell Roaring Lake. This is what we would wake up to every morning for 4 days. Cramer Peak on the left, and Fate's Finger is the spire to the right of the flat tree-lined ridge in the middle.
It was pretty obvious why the lake was named Hell Roaring. From any part of the lake you can either hear the rapids where the river exits the lake or the waterfall that feeds into it (or both!).
Dad and Sedona get their first look at Hell Roaring Lake upon arrival.....and slurpy lake drinks for the horses!
Dad and I checked out the fishing (no worms, please brotha, we were snooty fly fisherman!) from around the shore. I was concerned that backcasting would pose a major problem as the foliage was way too strong to allow it. Dad's a better roll caster than me. But the bigger concern was that the trout, though plentiful, looked like french fries and the only bigger ones seemed to be in the middle of the lake. There was no way to get our line out that far.
Dad readies his fly rod while Cooper keeps a keen eye out for critters...
For an alpine lake at 7400 feet, it wasn't that cold. I'd guess 55 degrees. I could at least wade in to fish.
Randy cooked up a fine cowboy meal on the fire of steak, potatoes, and beans. I joked that maybe we could re-enact that ground-breaking scene from Blazing Saddles around the fireplace what with the beans, but that scene ended up waiting til dad and I were in the tent.
Our first meal of the trip. Real cowboy food!
I've always been into maps. Love pouring over them.
Dad and I tried our fly rods out that night - rather half-assed to be honest - and turned up nothing. No matter, we had this incredible view!
Dad blends into the surroundings hoping to raise a trophy trout in Hell Roaring Lake.
A few rubs on Cooper's belly, and we turned in for the night. Cooper is the Master of Everything Wilderness. We saw no critters. Cuz they saw Cooper. You don't mess with Cooper.
An evening shot of Hell Roaring Lake with Cramer Peak in the background.
Dad had his restless leg syndrome issue the first night but got over it. I feel horrible about that and hope I'm not next in line. It's enough for me when my legs get restless for skipping a workout, so I can just imagine what he goes through. No sleep talking the first night. No snoring either.
Day 2
Coffee at first light with these views is a life changing experience!
Randy made some kickass eggs and bacon for breakfast. He was pullin out all the stops for this guided trip. Once bellies were full, dad and I hiked to the waterfall, occasionally dropping a line in along the way. The foliage was way too thick for me to be successful, but dad found a spot that he could dab his line in and hook some 4" trout with a San Juan Worm. We did spot a nice 10"ish trout so there was hope!
I fished at the headwaters of the waterfall but turned up nothing. It could have been a number of things that led to my getting skunked: leader was too long, wrong fly, wrong temperatures, too late in the day, angry trout having fights over who deserved my fly more than the other. Whatever, as long as it's not my fault. Myeh, right. I could see and hear a thousand trout sticking their heads above water laughing at me like I was the Lake Jester.
That hike to the waterfall was strenuous, and I was impressed that my dear old dad made it on those new baboon knees and hips that he had to replace his human ones. At least the new joints went well with his baboon ass. I could show you that picture too, but kids might be reading.
Just a kid trying to raise a trout. I think they were annoyed at my constant technique of bopping them on the head rather than delicately presenting a meal in front of them that might look like an actual insect worth eating.
Dad and I also spied a couple bikini babes sunning themselves on a rock. I'll admit that we hesitated when we first saw them, in case they wanted to accept their false seclusion and attempt some skinny dipping without anyone knowing.....heh, heh. Aww crap, I can't back that up either. We tripped over ourselves to say hello, gawked for a minute or two, and then pressed on realizing we were both far too gentlemanly to make any sort of impression on them.
Cooper and I take a chill break before dinner.
Dad and Randy retired to the tents to take an afternoon nap, while something welled up inside of me: the need for doing something epic. Had anyone ever swam this lake? Was it too cold? I snuck to a point where I could drop in. There were hikers on the other side, sunbathing on boulders while taking in the beauty of the lake. I splashed in and was on top of them in 5 minutes. Not much of a swim, but my heart rate soured with the adventure of it all. I don't know that anybody ever did that before on a lake so remote and sorta cold. The hikers looked at me like some sort of alien and I loved it. Cuz I am. It was a long walk around the lake back to the campground barefoot though.
There were plenty of ways to entertain yourself or get some exercise around the lake. This one took a lot out of me.
The mosquitos came in the cool air of the morning and evening. The kill ratio in any single day was probably 70 mosquitos to 1.5 liters of my blood. I was losing. And in the heat of the afternoon the flies would come in carrying silver goblets and fill them with my blood at their leisure, leaving me with massive welts to scratch at while I rolled around in my sleeping bag at night. This was paradise!
Day 3
Dad didn't take much coaxing to get mounted up and ready to head to Imogene Lake!
A trip on horseback to Imogene Lake, which was another 3 miles away and at 8500 feet! The trip was mostly uneventful, with one small fun story. About a third of the way up, Cooper had gone missing. Randy hollered for him like crazy and was obviously flustered. I wondered what this meant. Was the whole trip scrapped without Cooper? Would we go on without him? More calls for Cooper turned up nothing......and then......a rustle of branches and out came........a jackrabbit! Bounding down the trail toward us at breakneck speed, this jackrabbit was obviously also named Cooper and was heeding the call! A few feet from us he leaped back into the brush and disappeared, at which point the real Slim Cooper please Stood Up and leaped after him. All was right in our world.
Cruiser gets a drink in a spring along the way to Imogene Lake.
When we got to Imogene Lake we had it all to ourselves! It was spectacular. Crystal clear water with great big boulders thrown into it over years of glacial movement, rock islands sporadically rising from the depths, and. not. one. sound. Okay, birds, but they don't count. Total peacefulness.
Imogene Lake all to ourselves.
Casting lazily into Imogene Lake.
We hiked around the lake and then dad retired to his reading while I futilely cast my fly rod. It was 11:30 am - way too late to raise a trout, but a fun way to take in the view and pass the time. Afterwards, I hiked further to the headwater waterfalls and was delighted to find Randy and Cooper appear out of nowhere and join me. We hiked above the falls, which was on a giant slab of white rock, and encountered layers of pools and waterfalls upon each other til we arrived at an unnamed alpine pond almost at the pass over the Sawtooths to the backside of the range. I had no problem imagining I had discovered this little piece of Heaven all by myself, and that nobody had seen this before me.
The lowest waterfall that dumps into Imogene Lake. Randy and Cooper just got into the shot out of nowhere, seen on the left.
Randy and Cooper hike up over the white rock slab above Imogene Lake towards the unnamed ponds above.
Randy and Cooper survey the highest pond above Imogene Lake, about 9000 feet.
We rode back to basecamp at Hell Roaring Lake just in time to eat dinner before a storm rolled in. The rain hitting the tent sounded like an audience clapping wildly for me as I retired to my sleeping bag. I must have been good at it.
Hell Roaring Lake even looks spectacular in the rain!
Dad chose to show off his skills at talking in his sleep that night. "You know, I have two gold fish." "Really?" "Yeah, they're right next to you!" and "That monster looks like Frankenstein!" There was much more to the conversation but that's all I can remember.
Day 4
Homebound! And nobody was more eager than the horses, evidently! The last pack mule in the line had a problem keeping up with Randy's pace, which seemed to cause dad's horse, Sedona, to break into a trot himself just to keep up. Cruiser did the same. My guess is they like to be right behind each other so that the tail of the one in front helps swat the flies off their face. But it was quite annoying going from a comfortable walk to a 10 second trot constantly, and I was pulling on the reins repeatedly trying to assert myself as respected cowpoke over my horsey. Dad was doing the same. About halfway back I finally got Cruiser to see it my way and the trots seized. I don't know if dad had the same luck. For us greenhorns, trots hurt the buttocks and the kidneys.
No, we didn't catch any fish, and that's a shame.....somewhat. But not if you account for the amazing views, the peacefulness, and the glory that we basked in for 4 days. That's a long time to live in the same pair of drawers (the horse riding bit generated the most ass soup, interestingly enough) but well worth it. What an epic adventure and one I hope will turn into many with my dear old dad!
Dad and I at Imogene Lake.
Epilogue
When I got back to my folks' place in Garden Valley, Idaho, their neighbor invited me fishing. We would hit some spots along the South Fork of the Payette River, which flows right in front of my folks' house. Dad was too tired to join, but he made sure I knew: "Son, now if you catch a fish out of my front yard after we just spent $2000 on a fishing trip and got skunked......" Point taken. But I sucked and I had fished that river tons of times and got skunked! Not to worry! Uh oh, cuz this is what happened......
15" rainbow trout caught out of the South Fork of the Payette River with a helgramite nymph. That's a bunch of words to say I caught a kickass fish in my folks's front yard!
Richter out!!!!!
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