Friday, September 2, 2011

DAY #10: Beartooth Mountains Backpacking Trip


Sunday, August 28, 2011
DAY #10: HOME!

Well, I already explained our amazing breakfast! And from there it was a quick (4-1/2 hour) jaunt to Oshkosh. Randall, Leo, Rachel, Gary and I piled into the Vue again and made our way across the state back to home and went our separate ways. Everyone got home safe and sound. From there, I unpacked my stuff, threw all my stanky laundry in the washer, and laid my sleeping bag and jackets on my porch to air them out. Trip over… I was sad, but felt so refreshed. I realized I hadn’t thought of work the entire time we were out there backpacking. Just once, very briefly towards the end of the hike, when I quickly realized I had no idea what I’d been working on before I left… then I was distracted and the thought never entered my mind again until we were back in Wisconsin. Now THAT’S a true sign of a great vacation… well, one sign. The sore smile muscles (thanks Randall for that term), the tan lines, scrapes, dirty backpacks, empty bear canister, notebook full of notes and tons of pictures were also signs of a good trip. And the fact that I missed my “Beartooth family” the MINUTE we parted ways…

The Beartooth Mountain Backpacking Trip 2011:

The BEST Backpacking Trip EVER!

DAY #9: Beartooth Mountains Backpacking Trip


 "Manhole cover" - size pancakes at the Pelican Cafe in Montana.

Saturday, August 27, 2011
DAY #9: BACK TO WISCO!

We woke up early (and a few of us tired with a slight headache) and head out. The first stop was coffee and gas. The next stop was a short time later at the Pelican Café. A trucker’s café. We ordered breakfast. Little did we know we wouldn’t only needed to order half the breakfasts we did. The pancakes were the “size of manhole covers,” in Randall’s terms, and Leo’s omelets was bigger than his head! But it is incredible what kind of appetites backpackers can have even a day or two off the trail! We wolfed almost all of it down before heading back out to the cars holding our full bellies.

On the ride back to Wisconsin we switched drivers much more regularly, and took turns playing different kinds of games and things to entertain ourselves. Mad Libs, crossword puzzles, Pac Man, naps… it was enjoyable.

We got to Hudson, WI at my uncle Jerry and Aunt Amy’s home at about midnight and we crashed in our sleeping bags on their living room and basement floors. In the morning we woke up to hot, brewed coffee, and an AMAZING breakfast! Eggs, biscuits and gravy, banana muffins, watermelon, orange juice. I think we all felt pretty spoiled. And grandma was there, too. It was neat to see all my hikin’ buddies meet her. She’s 92 years old and just as spunky as all of the Laatsch’s. We had a great morning.

DAY #8: Beartooth Mountains Backpacking Trip


 Tired-out backpacks...

Friday, August 26, 2011
DAY #8: CIVILIZATION!

It was our last day in the woods. Margie had the idea the night before to give Gary and I the keys to both vehicles, since we can hike pretty fast, then speed out, shuttle the cars and meet the rest of the crew at the ending trailhead. Gary and I agreed it was a great idea and would allow us to get to Red Lodge sooner, which would mean grilled meat cooked and served to us quicker, too. Not to mention an ice cold beer or two! Or three… or maybe even four. Anyway, you can see what was on our minds the last day!

As we were packing up, we were all giddy and feeling kind of silly. The four of us girls got into a line and were rubbing each others’ shoulders when, of course, some comments started to come out about our positions, and giggles to follow. With us all making a few small hip thrusts, it just got even more funny. After our line-up-shoulder-rub, there was a comment of make-up on trail… which none of us used, by the way. BUT… the idea arose of using dirt for eye shadow. And Margie had a shiner on her left eye from her fall a couple days ago, so to match that, and to look “perty” on our last day, my mom, Rachel and I rubbed our fingers into the dirt and applied a nice, natural brown to our lids. Then took the classy “kissy face” picture.

We hit the trail right at 9:00, as we did every day – naturally. It worked out great. Somehow, every single day, we were all getting our packs on at the same time, ready to roll, around 9AM. We never really planned it or felt rushed.

 I enjoy writing about the stuff I eat on trail, but my mornings are so boring. Oatmeal and coffee again… It just packs so small, weighs so little, and I never get sick of it! It’s totally my staple backpacking food. I mix up my own concoctions, too, so each day might be a little different, but I always enjoy it!

We stopped around 11:00 or so on a log where we could all sit down in a row. We ate our lunch and decided this was where Gary and would take off like crazy-hikers and try to get to the cars to speed up the shuttle-time-situation.

Once back on the trail, we followed a wide, rushing river for quite a ways, then we’d reach a nice built-up bridge to cross… then we’d meet up with horse-back riders, then another wide bridge, then people with smaller packs. We knew we were close, then! But what really got us is when we could hear vehicular traffic, then we spotted some cars through the trees. We were at the trailhead! So many bittersweet feelings… it’s the same every trip. It’s also the same every trip when you feel the excitement of seeing a trash can to dispose of 5 days’ worth of nasty tuna packets, used Wet-Ones, and whatever-else-stinky-nasties you had to carry out of the woods. And… a pit toilet. It’s not quite a flushy yet, but it’s still nice to sit comfortably on a stool without miscellaneous grasses and weeds poking you in the behind every time you squat down to pee… yet still… I wouldn’t give up those experiences for anything in the world. It’s all part of it, and I strangely miss it shortly after being out of the woods… every single time I go.

We acted quickly, as we were both kind of hoping we’d beat the hikers back to the trailhead with both vehicles before they reached the trailhead. We’d been hiking our booties off for the past hour and a half, and were convinced we were making excellent time. We even hoofed it full-speed up a giant climb!

We ran and got the van from the Lady of the Lake Trailhead, which was now packed!! It was the weekend after all, so I suppose folks were heading out for their extended weekend trips. I felt envious for those that lived near here… it was like their version of our “Porkies.” I think I might have to move out here!!

I drove the Envoy and Gary drove the van. We felt we were making such good time, we decided to drive down to Cooke City for a quick pit-stop. We ran into the gas station, grabbed a bunch of different cans of soda, a bag of ice, and threw it all in the cooler with the extra beer we had from before the hike. We refrained from having anything, as we wanted to enjoy it with the rest of the group.

When we got to the trailhead at Clark’s Fork, my mom and dad were sitting underneath a shade tree. We went out to meet them, and they said they’d been only there about 10 minutes. I asked it the others were far behind, and almost immediately I heard my Aunt Margie squeel with excitement! It was too funny… she must’ve seen the cars through the trees like we did!

Everyone gathered by the cooler and grabbed a beer or soda of their choice. It was soooo refreshing! We snapped a bunch of photos of the group, shed a few tears of pride, happiness and sad ones because it was all done… but overall we were all happy – and very excited to have a warm shower!

We piled in the two vehicles and made our way back over Beartooth Pass. We went almost straight back to Red Lodge and to the motel where we had our reservations. Rachel and I tried out the hot tub, breaking all the rules… we didn’t shower first (I know, it’s pretty nasty, but in our defense, the thing already had a ton of nasty-floaties before we got in!), and we took our bottles of Blue Moon with us after reading a sign that read, “No glass.” We were only in there for about 5 minutes, so we figured it was okay.

When I took my shower, I smiled at all the brown suds coming off of me. I love seeing the brown suds… it reminds me of all the fun dirt and earth I’d been playing in, and what a great hike it was.

We all showered up, then piled back into the van to Belfry, where we hoped to eat at a steakhouse and see some local pig races. Unfortunately the wait was an hour and a half, and we all quickly agreed that was way too long. We all wanted some cooked meat pronto. We made our way back to Red Lodge, passing by an abandoned mine, which was really cool. Once back in Red Lodge, we parked and walked down the street until we came across Carbon County Steakhouse. Without thinking, we filed in. We were seated, and quickly realized we were in a “fancy” restaurant. We also noticed from the price of the meals. Oh well – we knew it would be good – and it was!  I really lucked out, too. I ordered the Sirloin, and the waitress brought me a delicious-looking salmon dish. She sat it down in front of me and immediately said, “I’m sorry, I know this isn’t what you ordered, but you can go ahead and eat this up while we make up your sirloin.” So I shared it with everyone, and it was amazingly delicious!! Everyone got quiet as they ate away at their delicious post-hike meal. Shortly later I received my second meal. Yum! Sirloin for dessert! It was freakin’ incredible, too. Melted in my mouth. On top of the 2nd meal for no cost, the waitress paid for a dessert, so I ordered the apple spring rolls with ice cream. Ahhh, full belly!

After dinner we made our way to the end of town to a brewery. It was called Sam’s Taproom. What a super-cool place! There was a blind dog roaming around, a private party in the back, seriously-awesome décor, and the best backpacking group EVER! We all ordered miscellaneous beers and passed them around so we could all try. The bourbon beer was a big hit! You could really taste the bourbon in it! Weird! Rachel’s brother joined us for a little bit towards the end of our visit there, which was cool, too. We were able to tell him all about our trip and the route we took.

The bar closed at about 11:00 (I believe it had something to with liquor license restrictions in MT), so we all left and made our way back to the hotel. Rachel, Randall, my dad and I decided we needed one more drink, so we walked downtown to a little bar. We hung our for a while, joked around, enjoyed our beers, and stuck a buck to the ceiling. The bartender taught us how to do that… so that was kinda’ neat.

As soon as we were back at the motel, we passed out on a soft, comfy bed with a ton of fluffy pillows.

Saying for the day, by Leo (while still on trail, talking about what we’d do when we got off the trail):
1st for thirst
2nd for pleasure
3rd for the buzz
4th for sleep.

Yes, referring to beer.

DAY #7: Beartooth Mountains Backpacking Trip


 "Man! Check out this nasty-ass scenery behind us... I can hardly stand it. I soooo wish I was at work instead!"

Thursday, August 25, 2011
DAY #7: TRAIL!

We woke up to a pretty big rain and windstorm again. I think we all enjoyed sleeping in a little later than usual… maybe just about 30 minutes worth. But once the rain stopped, we all rolled out of our tents and started our morning, which turned out to be gorgeous! The sun came out and dried everything up before we broke camp and took off hiking again. Breakfast was oatmeal with blueberries, and yup, you guessed it – coffee.

We were able to make our way up and around a cliff that was jutting down into Oly Lake (this was kind of becoming a regularly scheduled terrain-challenge for us!).  We were all on fresh legs and in very good spirits with the clear blue sky and sunshine above us… and it helped that the valley we were heading down was PACKED with wildflowers and a couple of fun river crossings. The Crocs went on and made it much easier on the rocks. Finally, looking ahead, we noticed a well-worn trail. There were no cairns, which popped up every now and then as we made our way through the backcountry… they never seemed to make any sense… so we joked the whole trip about the cairns being placed by some evil being that wanted to mess us up! In all honesty, though, even though the cairns didn’t put us on any specific route or trail, it gave us peace of mind. I remember thinking, “Well, this can’t be the stupidest route to take if someone else has been here…”

We quickly realized where we were – the Rosebud Trail!! We were LOVING the backcountry, but tell ya’ what --- that trail sure looked inviting!! The rest of the day and the last day would be following this trail to where we had my mom and dad’s Envoy parked. It would require much less trouble-shooting, and would be a little easier on our feet and muscles… no more insane boulder-crossings. I think we all felt a little sad, too. Along this route, we’d meet up with a lot more people, and we’d sure miss the serenity and beauty of the true wilderness we just made our way through. But we were also aware that this was going to be an excellent part of the adventure, too. We hiked on down the trail with smiles on our faces. And the views certainly didn’t disappoint, either! Just because we were on trail, that certainly didn’t mean there was no more to see! WOW the views!!!!

We reached the high-up Fossil Lakes section. What an incredible area. We stopped for lunch, and the sun was out and felt really warm, so Rachel and I quickly jumped into action… we stripped down to our “backpacking bikinis” which consists basically of whatever sport bra and undies you are currently wearing, and without even thinking about it, we waded in and DOVE! As we came up gasping for air as our hearts stopped from the coldness of the water, we realized there was a huge drop-off and neither of us could touch bottom and stand up. While shrieking like crazed animals, we doggy paddled our butts off until we could stand again. I turned around and dove one more time. We washed up quickly and got out back into the sunshine, dried off and laid back to enjoy our lunch. It was invigorating! And, just before we got going, a little rain cloud came over and sprinkled on us. So we hit that window of swim time just perfectly!

After our stop at Fossil Lakes, we hiked on pretty steady. We were trying to make our way to Russell Lake for our last night of camp. We came across a lot of other hikers, campers, and fishermen. We were definitely on the main drag again. Everybody was super-friendly, though, which is almost always the case on trail. We eventually did make our way to Russell Lake, but it was a long day and we were all pretty pooped. We set up camp, spreading our tents over what we thought was two spots, and settled in. A campfire was going, and we were all starting up our dinners.

Then we experienced our first conflict with other backpackers. As we were setting up our tents, a couple of guys in the site next to us stopped over and were talking with my mom and dad – right as they were setting up their tent. It was a short conversation, and they shortly made their way back to their camp. About an hour before dark, they hung their food bags in a tree about 10 feet from my mom and dad’s and Margie’s tents. I was really irritated that they would do such a crazy thing! I avoid conflict as much as I can, but I had to ask them to move it. There were trees everywhere around us, and being from Wisconsin, we’d hung food in much trickier spots that the trees around us… it just seemed as though they could’ve hung their food anywhere else.

What we didn’t know was that the campsite was set up a certain way so that you could cook next to where you hang your food, and camp a distance away. We had half our camp set up in the “kitchen,” and were totally unaware. So we were wrong in how we set up, so we eventually had to move a couple of tents. Everyone ended up feeling better about it, but it was just a crappy situation all around. What I was SUPER disappointed in, was how one of the guys handled the situation. He became nearly aggressive after I politely asked if there was another tree they could hang their food in. He made a couple snarky comments… First he asked me, “Well, where do you plan on hanging your food?” as he looked around with his hands out (with about a million pine trees around him). I replied calmly, “In those boulders over there… we have bear canisters.” He replied back, “Hahahaha… nobody in Montana uses bear canisters.” Okay dude… whatever. I explained to him that we just came down from 3 days above tree line, and we felt safe having our food in canisters so we could stash them on the ground without worrying. Later on in the conversation, after things cooled down and we agreed to move, they explained that they were heading up towards Cairn Lake. We warned them about the snowfields and terrain, and they quickly talked about changing their route… then I asked where they planned on “hanging” their food… the snarky dude replied humbly, “Hmm, I hadn’t thought about that… that might be a problem.” I think that’s the first “meanish” backpacker I’d ever met. So weird and out of place.

We enjoyed the rest of the evening with our campfire and the sunset over Russell Lake. The sky lit up bright pink over the treetops, and come to find out it was the sun reflecting off a giant smoke cloud from a fresh forest fire over the mountains. So scary, yet so beautiful.

DAY #6: Beartooth Mountains Backpacking Trip


On our way down to Cairn Lake, before we realized we'd have to climb back up. It's okay, the smiles stuck, anyway. :)

Wednesday, August 24, 2011
DAY #6: NO WAY OUT!

Where we camped last night was this smaller lake with a giant snowfield going right down to and hanging over the water. At one point as we were all sitting there, we heard a big “Crrraaack!” and a “Sploosh!” A section of the snow cliff hanging into the water cracked and started to fall into the water. It didn’t make it all the way, but it sure made a loud, eerie sound. Maybe all our chitter-chatter and flatulence helped it give way. ;)

In the morning… I mean early, like at 2:00 in the morning, Rachel and I woke up to my dad yelling, “GET! Get OUTTA here!” … that meant GOATS!!! Rachel and I opened the flies on the tent and peeked outside. Two goats were roaming around between our tents looking for a pee spots to dig in. They like the salt. Apparently the baby one was digging around their tent where my mom stepped out in the middle of the night to pee, and the adult goat was sticking her nose under their tent fly and licking the salt off of my dad’s trekking poles! Too funny! Gary was up right away – he’d been so excited to see some goats. But when he got out of his tent, he realized the goats were sort of following him. He walked off a ways into the dark where we could no longer see him, and all we heard was him saying, “Hey… get…” then he’d make a fake goat sound, and you’d hear the goats kind of jumping around. Then Gary showed back up in our headlamp beams, watching behind him, with the goats still following him. He must’ve smelled like a giant salt lick to them! He was even flashing his headlamp at them saying, “Hey! I’m human!” I think that was enough goat exposure for Gary!

Then Randall and Leo were up to go to the bathroom, and I have the funny scene stuck in my head. Both guys up on top of the hill past our tent, their backs to us, hands in front of them… as they went to the bathroom. The goats came closer and closer to them, and they both started to shift very uneasily and started “baaaahhhing” at them and hollering for them to go away. These sure were some persistent ones! They were really fun, though. We all got good laughs out of our early morning visitations by the friendly beasts, and the baby’s “MEH” sound he made stuck with us the rest of the trip. At any point (which was VERY often) that we were scrambling on tricky terrain, someone would usually let out a little “Meh…” and we’d all laugh. Rachel kinda’ started that, and it stuck for the whole week. We were just wishing we’d had the steady feet like the goats!

I ate breakfast, which was oatmeal and coffee, of course… I never get sick of the stuff, thank goodness! After I was done eating, I washed my hair in the FREEZING cold water. I felt like my brain shrunk to the size of a peanut! Then I washed a pair of my undies and a shirt. They hung on my pack for the first half of the day until they dried.

Margie rearranged her pack this morning and was commenting how she felt much more stable. She was crawling over boulders with ease early that morning!

Everything went to plan that morning. Gary and I were scouting out the route to a saddle we agreed looked like the most subtle incline and decline down to Cairn lake where we hoped to sit and have lunch, then walk around and back over to the other side (where we originally were going to camp), and then on towards Dewey Lake and the Rosebud Trail.

We did great… until we started down the loose rocky slope towards Cairn. It was super-slow going anyway, since the descent was so steep – I would guess at least 45 degrees – and so many rocks were loose, and smaller… some sections of scree even popped up making it a little scarier yet. Gary went ahead almost all the way down to the lake – he looked like an ant down there, and we couldn’t really make out what he was trying to communicate back. He started his way back up towards a different hill that we might be able to cross over, and when he got closer I heard him say, “We can’t get around that way. We’ll have to go up and back down the other side.” By that time I already realized this, and was feeling nervous that we’d have to climb back UP that crazy-dangerous rocky slope. That would be the WORST! So I told the crew to hang tight, have a snack, and that I was going to go around and see if there was another way around. Gary took the high slope, and I took the low route. There was a sheer cliff that jutted down straight into the lake. There would be no way to climb around it. The only way to get around the cliff would be to literally wade through the water while trying to hang onto a wall coming perpendicularly out of the water. I saw rocks and the possibility of stepping through, but it looked like it dropped off, so I had no idea of the depth of the water… I was familiar with the temperature of the water, and that was nothing to mess with, either. It was way too risky of an option. The second thought was to ascend up a huge snow field, which was even more steep than the rocky terrain we were crawling down, and one misstep would send a hiker sliding all the way to the bottom, dropping off about a 10-foot snow cliff, landing right in the water with their pack on their back. At the point I decided this was also a way-too-dangerous option, Gary hollered down that there was no way to get around from up high, either. It was a straight drop-off.

I was making my way up the insanely steep snowfield to save some time (and unfortunately alert the crew that we had to turn around – UGH!), and I stopped for a minute to catch my breath. I dug little steps in the snow for my feet so I could rest, leaning against my trekking poles, and I looked down just ever so slightly and realized I was looking straight down (waaay down) at the water from between my legs. MAN! That was STEEP! A fear crawled into my stomach and up into my throat as I visualized my foot slipping. At this point nobody could see me, either. I was too far past the rock slope for those that were waiting to see me, and I was too high for Gary to see me over the ledge. I felt really scared! I said a prayer – out loud – took a deep breath and just took my time, digging a step for each time I picked up my foot. I eventually made it across the snow field with a sigh of relief. Until… I reached the end of the boulder field. The boulders were ginormous, and I looked down between a couple of them and couldn’t really tell where the ground was below them. If I’d slipped and a rock shifted, I would have slid down in there and been stuck and nobody would’ve heard my scream or seen me. It was a super-freaky moment for me. The rocks (thankfully) were very stable, but each step I took led me to a new crevasse in the rocks. I was soooo happy when I saw Leo around the corner. I hollered to him to have everyone start back up the hill – there was no way out.

It was a bummer to have to go back up that hill, and I had a sinking feeling having to tell everyone to turn around and redo all the work they just did working their way down… but it was the safest option. I felt good about the decision, felt as though we exhausted every possible option to save our steps, and I knew we were making the right choice.

Once we were all back at the top of the saddle, we met up with two other hikers that were planning on heading down. It was weird to run into anyone back where we were – and it turned out these were the only two people we’d see the whole time we were off-trail, which was really cool. We told them the situation we found heading down to Cairn Lake, and they eventually chose to go back and try to make their way around the other side of the lake. The area that one would normally take around Cairn Lake was covered in snow. Normally we’d be able to boulder-hop all the way around… but not today!

We all met back up at the saddle on top of Cairn Lake. We ate lunch, laughed and enjoyed the afternoon. Even though our group had to scramble back up a tough slope, everyone was in a great mood. I was just looking around and realizing what an awesome chemistry we all had! A situation like that could so easily make someone a little crabby… but not us. I felt so blessed and thankful for having such a great crew to be hiking with. *smiles!*

After Cairn the day just got better. We worked our way down a much more gradual slope into a valley spotted with little lakes. Each lake had an outlet that ran off the edge of a short cliff down into the next little lake. It was like we were taking giant steps down from lake to lake. The wildflowers were everywhere – and a quick sidenote: the two hikers we met earlier explained to us that one of the cool flowers we were seeing around – a white, upside-down, bell-shaped flower with purple stripes and speckles – was a rare Montana flower they don’t see too often. It was called an Arctic Gentian. We were even more careful not to step on any after we learned that!

Once we made our way down the valley, we all started to feel fatigue. We weren’t going to make it to Dewey Lake and the Rosebud trail, but close. We were all okay with that, too. One more peaceful night in the backcountry… we looked down at Oly Lake and decided we’d find a place to camp there. My dad pointed out a spot on the north-west side of the lake and said, “See that there? There’s dead wood down there to maybe make a campfire with.” Yippeee!!! SOLD! And… it was closer to where we were than the spot across the lake I was originally scoping out. As it would turn out, it was a great decision, because the scramble to the other side of the lake was kind of tricky, and had we decided to go on, we’d have been doing some of it in the dark. This scenario happened to us pretty much every day. It was almost weird… we knew when to stop, and it was also the best decision we could’ve made each day.

But, of course, the excitement still wasn’t over. On our way down to our sweet camp spot on Oly Lake, we came across a pretty waterfall… that we had to make our way down somehow. There was a steep, nasty-looking snow field we were avoiding, so we ended up taking what was probably even more dangerous than that snowfield, after looking back at it. We scrambled down a crack alongside the waterfall, and once I was half-way down I realized it was MUCH steeper than I’d thought it would be. I was first to head down, and there was a giant rock I was about to step onto, but before bearing my weight, something stopped me. Something didn’t look quite right. I tapped it really lightly with the tip of my boot, it gave way, and rolled down the hillside, crashing and shattering corners off of itself onto other rocks, before it smashed into the snowfield. It dug out a giant gash out of the snow, and slid the rest of the way down. The sound of that huge rock crashing, bouncing and rolling down that hill was really scary-sounding, but so incredibly awesome at the same time. It sure made everyone’s heart jump a little, that’s for sure. I think we were thinking, “That coulda’ been me!”

It took a long time for us all to make our way down the waterfall’s slippery, rocky slope, but we did it. My dad even stopped mid-way, put on his pant legs, and came down backwards, which I imagine was much easier on his hip (he had it completely replaced in March this year!!! He’s one incredibly tough dude!) That slope left us with a few scrapes and bruises, but once down, there were smiles all around and talk of war wounds to show off once we got home.

After our tricky slope, we worked out way down even further to a double river crossing that totally butchered our bare feet… even though Crocs can get slippery in the water, I vowed to use them for any more river crossings! At the end of the day, that was tough on our sore feet and our mental state. We were exhausted in every way possible. We all agreed, though… the adventures and views we’d had up to that point made it worth every single bit of it.

At our meadow, there was a rock fire ring already there, and plenty of room for all of us to pitch our tents. We set up JUST in time for a storm to hit. Rachel and I crawled inside and listened to the rain pelt on the tent (and we were staying dry!). The wind picked up and blew a couple of really strong gusts towards us, and the tent would lean one way, then the other. It held up perfectly. Then thunder would roll all around us, then hail! We just laughed at the crazy noise it all made. It didn’t last long, either. It was a perfect high-elevation mountain storm. Short, strong and really cool. We all made our way out of our tents after it passed and started our dinner. My dad already had a small fire going – I think he might’ve been working on it through the storm – because he’s just crazy like that!

For dinner I made up some mashed potatoes with real bacon bits. It was spectacular. I also enjoyed a cup of hot cocoa spiked with peppermint schnapps. Yummy!

Once dark laid itself down on our pretty little campsite, Randall led some of us up the hill behind where we were set up and showed us where the space station would show up in the night sky… low on the horizon. Sure enough! It came into view and ran across the sky at a pretty quick pace until it fell back below the horizon and we couldn’t see it any more. Right on schedule once again! It was so neat to see that stuff so perfectly predicted. Thanks Randall!!

With bear canisters securely wedged between rocks a ways away from camp, we all laid down in our tents and fell asleep to the sound of two rushing creeks off in the distance.