Palindromic backpacking this year. Our first two trips of the season were on the Salmon River and the Selway River. Our last two trips of the year were the Selway River and the Salmon River. Palindromic.

Go hang a salami I’m a lasagna hog. Also a palindrome. 

The season-ending adventures were truly different than our normal backpacking adventures. Our forest service employee friend, Nate invited us to go with him on two work trips. Nate, aka Nathan, works seasonally as a fish biologist for the forest service. Nathan has made regular appearances here at Wild About Books; Canoeing the Missouri, Backpacking the Grand Canyon and a trip to the Oregon Coast. 

Nathan, Heidi and me. No dogs this time since we were using the forest service cabin. It was weird to pack everything in the car and not take Molly and Juno. The dogs were confused as we loaded up and left them.

October backpacking is my favorite. The colors are changing. The days are cooler. And the nights and creek crossings are down right fringed, but doable. It had been an exceptionally wet summer this past year and the mushrooms were having a hay day. 

Remember; I’m the slow one and I’m the pacemaker in the front and Nathan is on the clock. I walked the fasted I can walk for the whole trip. Practically running. Catching myself with my trekking poles when tripped up. Doing the wide stance hike through the wet gullys formed from hunting guides and their pack strings. When I did stop to pee or drink I would inhale the 360 degree view. It was invigorating for the soul. 

We were hiking a tributary of the Selway River in Idaho, White Cap Creek, which led to the hiking discussion of what is the difference between a creek and a river. You can always have a good conversation with Nathan and Heidi whether you are talking about Rivers vs Creeks or why women put on a pair of panties but only put on one bra. But back to the mushrooms. I was practically running on the trail and every so often I’d hear “what? look at this!” And every time it was a new mushroom or patch of mushrooms. There were so many different looking mushrooms. My favorite were the inverted mushrooms that held water in them like little baby mushroom cups. 

We were only a half mile away from the cabin when we came upon a horrible stench. I mean horrible. Like death. Old death. Old rotten death. We had to cover our mouths and noses just to get by the area.

We reached the cabin, but had to cross White Cap Creek (which looks like a river hence the River vs Creek discussion). I brought my good river sandals, weighing several ounces more than my not good river sandals, in anticipation of this crossing. I have fallen at creek crossings before with a full backpack on and it is an upside down turtle scenario as cold water soaks your clothes and seeps into your water resistant boots. No boot is water resistant when the water is pouring in from the top. The creeks in the Rocky Mountains are rocky and once you fall down, it is difficult to make your self vertical again. So. I brought the good yet heavier river sandals. Heidi went barefoot and Nathan had been in the creeks all day with his already wet neoprene booties. His job is to recover the temperature probes (that he had set out in the spring) before the freeze. The water was freezing ass cold. I could feel my feet numbing out half way across and wanted to walk fast but couldn’t walk fast. I’ve got both treking poles in one hand and my boots stuffed with socks in the other hand. It was four in the afternoon and I knew that this crossing was going to be much warmer than when we cross back tomorrow morning.

The cabin at Cooper’s Flat is a forest service working cabin, not to be confused with a forest service rental cabin. Trail crew and wildlife biologist such as Nathan use this cabin for their jobs. It was stocked with a wood stove, fire wood, emergency items such as first aide and food, warm blankets and two cots, a propane cook stove and pots and pans. There were two doors to get in, a plain old cabin door and a monstrous vault looking door to help keep the bears out. The cabin sits in a large open meadow at the confluence of White Cap Creek and Canyon Creek. We were in Idaho, but right on the Montana border. 

Nathan unlocked the door. The big metal door even squeaked like an old bank vault door. Dang; I thought at first look of the inside; I wish I had brought my Clorox wipes. First we were hit by the smell of rodent droppings and urine combined with the smell of moth balls and stuffiness. We left the doors open and started sweeping up all the rodent shit from the floor, tables, everything that had a surface. Luckily the cots were hanging on the wall. 

The sun was setting and the temperature was dropping quickly. Nathan still had one more probe to fish out of Canyon Creek. We went with him so he could show us where to fill up our water containers. Heidi had brought her two liter water filter bag and filled that up so we wouldn’t have to fill up our little containers on multiple trips to the creek. We were grateful that she packed that in. 

I think Nathan was hoping we would prepare a group meal. Heidi and I knew this cabin would be full of mouse poop (as all cabins in the woods are) and were not interested in using pooped up pots and pans or washing dishes. We told him we’re bringing our JetBoils and just add water backpacking meals. I used my bandana as a table cloth and everything else was on the cot or back in my backpack which I hung from a nail. 

Two cots. Three people. Nathan said he’d sleep on the table. I said I’ll sleep on the table, I’m the shortest. He said no and moved some boxes around to make his table bed longer. It looked horrible and where are the Clorox wipes? We got the wood stove roaring so that we could sit with the door open and not feel so claustrophobic and dark. The sunset was amazing, there were just enough clouds to make the sky light up with pink and orange and red. By 8:00 we were tucked in and reading. 

Heidi apologized before we all went to sleep, that she would have to open the big loud vault door to go pee. Nathan said he would have to do the same. I said we’d all just go pee together. No big deal. Gang toity Nathan declared. And so we did. Which was good because the stars were more phenomenal than the sunset.  Here we were in the depths of the Selway Bitterroot Wilderness. Miles from any town or road. The stars. So many stars. Nathan and Heidi started pointing and naming planets. We were freezing and ran back into the warm cabin. Actually the cabin must have been 100 degrees, we stopped putting wood on the fire. I fell back to sleep listening to all of the critters scurrying on the porch and the roof hoping none could get into my backpack hanging on the wall. 

Heidi and Nathan got up one more time for a pee, it was five in the morning and past when they usually get up anyway. I could hear them outside even more fascinated with the stars than the first time. The called out to me to come look, but I stayed in my warm sleeping bag. They crawled back into their sleeping bags and read, waiting for me to get up. 

They were so quiet I thought they had gone back to sleep. I laid their being quiet so they could sleep, but no one was sleeping. As soon as I started stirring on the loud cot, with my squeeky blow up sleeping pad they both jumped up and were ready to go. It was still dark out so we were able to go check out the stars one more time. Hot tea for me, hot water with lemon for Heidi and Nathan unwrapped his burrito and set it on the woodstove that the previous day had been covered in mouse poop. I’m sure the hundred degree woodstove killed any of the left over mouse virus. Hot breakfast of rehydrated backpacking meals for me and Heidi. We packed as the sun came out to light up our day. We tidied up the place, split some kindling and cleaned the outhouse before putting on our packs and walking out. The meadow crunched under our feet from the frozen dew on the grasses. It was a very chilly start to our morning. We left the cabin in our water shoes (or in down slippers for Heidi) carrying our warm boots and socks. 

I tried to find a more shallow route to cross White Cap Creek, but it still came up to my knees and I was just happy to make it across up right. We walked fast on the trail where the sun had not reached trying to warm back up. When we got to the stench of death Nathan said he was going down. He had to find out what it was. Heidi and I kept going. We couldn’t be near the smell as it was so permeating and a smell that would take a long time to get out of your nose. We waited for Nathan out of the smell range. 

Dead horse. He said it looked like someone tried to cover it up with branches and trees. Nathan got pictures in order to report it to his office. The rest of the hike out was as enjoyable as coming in. We chatted, we were silent, we were in awe. We peed and snacked and drank water. We arrived back at the truck almost 24 hours later. And we were still deep in the wilderness.

You don’t realize what you have when you connect with people in a way that you want to share these amazing moments. People so apprciative and grateful to have this wildernes experience right in our backyard. I think we take it for granted that this is normal when in reality I think it is an anomaly. The three of us were in sync. I mean jeez we night time peed together. We are spiritually cross pollinators. We are three otherwise very independent introverts who struggle with the hustle and bustle of the modern world and our modern co-habitators of this world.  Maybe it’s not so weird we found each other and enjoy each other’s company. There is no drama, no hierarchy, no patriarchy, we just are. And for that I am grateful and excited for the next weekend to go out with these two again. 

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