My Last Bikepacking Race – I Mean It!

Post by Corrine

Only two miles into the East Idaho Epic and I had already made a mistake.

I realized I was not wearing my Camelbak, which besides carrying my water also contained my ID and money. I had left it back at my hotel, five miles from the start of the race. I immediately turned around knowing I was losing an hour of precious time and that I was going to add 10 extra miles to an already long day. Ugh!

Luckily Catherine, the race director’s wife, was still at the start and she gave me a ride back to the hotel where I retrieved my belongings. I lost about 45 minutes of time but figured it could have been worse. What if I had been 50 miles in before noticing I was missing my pack? At least I could continue.

I knew I would have setbacks during the race, my last bikepacking race, but so soon? 

My Last Bikepacking Race - Seriously

You read that right. This time I mean it. For real. This is my last multi-day bikepacking race. Don’t roll your eyes at me! I know I said the same thing two months ago after finishing the 3600-mile TransAm/Bike NonStop race. But then a couple of weeks later, I signed up for the East Idaho Epic. So why should you believe me when I say it now? But after 10 years and eight multi-day races with just one DNF (Did Not Finish) due to an insurmountable mechanical issue under my belt, I’m 95% sure that I’m done with this type of racing. I would even put money on it. Anybody want to place a bet?

These cattle don't seem to believe me, either!

The East Idaho Epic is a 430-mile gravel race that makes a loop south and east of Idaho Falls and has over 30,000 feet of elevation. There is also a shorter loop option, the Endeavor, which is 265-miles with 20,000 feet of elevation gain. And you have the option to switch to the shorter loop during the race. So, I could always shorten my race if it was harder than I expected.

My reasons for doing the East Idaho Epic, though, were many. Several women I know were doing the race and it would be a great opportunity to see them. The weather is usually perfect in Idaho Falls in late September with sunny skies and highs in the mid 70’s so I could extend my summer by another week. And I could see a new part of Idaho that sounded interesting. Plus, I am still in decent biking shape two months after my long race but recovered enough to do a hard effort. 

See? It made logical sense to sign up. But still, this is my last bikepacking race. I swear it. Maybe you’re not convinced. I’ll get to that later, but first I’ll tell you about my race. 

Day 1 – Altitude Hits Hard, But I Make it 100 Miles with Nan

The race starts with a 10-mile climb up a road with deep gravel. I was planning to ride 100 miles to Lava Hot Springs, but the going was slow, and I was feeling the altitude. Still, after about four hours, I started catching some of the more leisurely riders. It was fun to see them and know I was no longer in last place after my early debacle. 

Not champagne gravel

Then I caught up to Nan Pugh. I’ve known of her from the many winter ultras she has done and finally met her last spring when she came to Fairbanks to do the White Mountains 100 race. My mood immediately improved. Nan is full of optimism and just enjoys being out there riding her bike. She had some setbacks that morning, too, and was moving slower than expected. Nan wasn’t sure she wanted to go all the way to Lava Hot Springs on day one, but I convinced her to share a hotel room I had already booked there. 

Riding that far meant we had to ride the gnarliest part of the entire route in the dark when we were tired. We finally made it to the hot springs after a grueling up and downhill hike-a-bike followed by a fast but cold road descent just 10 minutes before the local pizza restaurant closed. We were ecstatic to score some hot food before showering and getting to bed and were happy to have made it 100 miles.

Ecstatic that we made it to Lava Hot Springs and that the pizza restaurant was still open!

Nan is a great riding partner. We ended up riding most of the race together. We would get separated for parts of the day but would come together again. She is a stronger climber and better technical rider, but I take fewer breaks and push to go further most days. It was fun to share the highs and lows with another rider especially one as upbeat as Nan. I’m sure we will do more trips together in the future.

Day 2 – Peanut Butter Mud, A Big Climb, A Frustrating Mechanical

Day two started with a little rain that soon stopped. But it was enough to turn the road into stick-to-your-bike peanut butter mud near the top of the first climb. It clogged up my drive train and kept my tires from turning. I stopped every couple of feet to dig it out. But luckily it was just a short stretch of road and soon we were cruising downhill again.  

But just as we reached pavement in the valley, we were hit with another rain shower that lasted most of the way until the next big gravel climb. Luckily the rain stopped before the climb because it was already going to be hard. It was only eight miles but had sustained grades of 10% with close to 3000 feet of climbing, topping out at 8300 feet elevation. This climb was relentless.  I had to walk most of it due to its steepness and feeling the effects of the elevation. Oh well, even though I was slow, I was making progress. My clothes were drying out, and it had warmed up. The fall colors were spectacular with the golden aspen and the red maples. 

Yes, it's raining but we are on pavement so no mud!

Beautiful fall colors

After another fun descent, we had more rolling terrain. But on the next climb, when I tried to move my front derailleur to my smallest chainring (my bike is older and has three chainrings on the front), my chain fell off and got stuck between the ring and the frame of my bike. It took me a while to get it unstuck but when I tried to ride again, it fell off and caused an even harder chain suck. What the heck? What was wrong? Had the mud caused some sort of damage? Was it the limit screw? Should I mess with it? The other two rings were working just fine. I didn’t want to screw up my other gearing. 

I continued riding, holding my breath when moving to the smallest ring and trying not to mash on the pedals. Occasionally the chain wouldn’t fall off and get caught, but usually it did. I made a small adjustment to the limit screw, but that didn’t make any difference. Finally, after the umpteenth time of flipping my bike upside down to dislodge my chain, I gave up. I decided to not use my smallest chainring anymore. Not great on a course with a lot of hills. Luckily, most of the long steep climbs were behind me. Even though my quads were fatigued, I could still climb most hills that were less than an 8% grade. The others I just had to walk. (When I finished the race, I went to Dave’s Bike Shop in Idaho Falls, where they found that a tooth on the chainring was bent. They were able to bend it back and I was able to climb steep hills again.)

Dave's Bike Shop was awesome and got me back in action again after the race

I stayed positive, but it was a hard day. I decided to drop down to the shorter course. Between the altitude, my slow progress, the chain issue, and my fatigue, I wasn’t sure I wanted to do this for two to three more days. Nan made the same decision to drop down to the shorter course. It had taken us 12 hours to just go 60 miles to the town of Soda Springs. 

We decided to get another hotel room for the night. I wanted to get up early the next day and make the big 100-mile push to the finish. I was determined to continue to push myself even though I was doing the shorter course. After considering, Nan decided to do the same.

Day 3 – A Sea of Sheep, a Thunderstorm, and a Finish! 

At 5 AM the next morning we woke up to cloudy skies. The rain started just as we left the convenience store where we resupplied for the day. The rain was short-lived, though, and the sun came out again. I got ahead of Nan, but she caught up to me while I was stripping off layers as the day warmed up. 

Soon after, we had a magical encounter with a huge herd of sheep being moved down the road. We got off our bikes and walked slowly as the herd parted like water around us and the sheep dogs eyed us to see if we were a threat or not. The sheepherders on horses nodded at us as the herd moved past. We couldn’t wipe the smiles off our faces as we got back on our bikes. Such a cool experience!

We continued to ride but soon noticed the clouds to our left building and turning darker. Could we avoid what looked to be some massive thunderstorms? We were only a few miles from a wildlife refuge where we could shelter in a building. We picked up our pace, but the clouds moved faster. We wouldn’t make it in time, so we quickly stopped and donned our raingear just in the nick of time. The storm hit with a vengeance with pounding rain and lightning and thunder. Nothing to do but keep riding the five miles until we got to the shelter. 

Ominous clouds move quickly towards us!

We stayed there until the storm lessened and moved on. We heard later that some of the other riders had it even worse than us. Even though the rain stopped it was still cold with a biting north headwind for most of the day. So much for my week of extended summer weather! At least it wasn’t too hot.

The rain and headwind didn’t dampen my mood. I got ahead of Nan, leaving the shelter before her. I rode for hours on a high plateau with rolling hills and open ranch land. I talked to the cattle on the road. I listened to music. I looked around and daydreamed as I kept pedaling. 

I kept waiting for Nan to catch back up to me, but she didn’t. I started taking more breaks and walking slowly up the hills. Should I continue and finish without her? It was a race after all. But we had been through so much together. I just assumed we would finish together. Had she had a mechanical? Should I wait? I was hoping to finish before dark, but was I being a jerk by continuing without her to do so? 

Luckily, I didn’t have to make that decision as she finally caught up to me about 20 miles from the finish. She hadn’t had any issues, she just said I was faster on the flatter terrain. We rode up the final hills just as the sun was setting and as it became dark, we could finally see the lights of Idaho Falls far below us. We donned more layers and had a fun descent back into town and to the finish of the race. It was only 9 PM, but we finished alone with no cheering fans. But we didn’t care. We had had a great time sharing the highs and lows of my final bikepacking race. And to top it off, we were the first women finishers for the Endeavor route. A top podium finish to end my career!!!!

Sunset photo up one of the last hills (photo courtesy of Nan)

We did it!  The orange and white sign was the finish. (photo courtesy of Nan)

Last Bikepacking Race? Yes!

Since I did the shorter course, I had a couple of extra days in Idaho Falls to rest and recover and cheer on other finishers. I would highly recommend this challenging bikepack race but be ready for lots of climbing. It was a great way to finish out ten years of bikepack racing.

And, yes, even after having a great time on this race, I know I’m done bikepack racing. 

How can I be so sure? Well, the main reason is that there aren’t any other races on my bucket list that I still want to do. And even if I hear about one that piques my interest, I’m pretty sure I’ll pass it up. I’m getting older and slower. It’s getting harder to do long back-to-back days with no recovery. I want more down time in camp to explore or just relax. I want to be able to stop if the weather is crappy and not just push, push, push. And sleep deprivation is getting harder for me, too. I still want to do hard things, but not for days on end.

Knowing this would be my last bikepacking race made it special. I embraced the good and the bad. I savored the highs and the lows. This race had it all. Good roads, difficult trails, peanut butter clog-up-your-drivetrain mud, steep climbs, fun descents, hike-a-bike, cold mornings, sunny days, rain and thunderstorms, headwinds, tailwinds, sublime moments, moments of wondering why I was doing this, mechanicals, herding cattle off the road, walking through a huge herd of sheep, and absolutely spectacular scenery and fall foliage at its peak. 

And like most bikepacking races, the East Idaho Epic/Endeavor is pretty laid back. The race director Jonathon Black is a great guy. He doesn’t care if people change their race, decide to skip parts of it, or make their own adventure. He just wants to get people out on the many amazing back country roads in Idaho. He allows the racers to camp on his horse ranch, just across from the start of the race, so they can socialize. You may not see anybody while out on the course, so this is a chance to see old friends and make new ones. I decided not to camp but I did have dinner with most of the women who were doing the race. It was fun to meet this group of rad women and share stories! I would highly recommend this challenging race to anyone interested in bikepack racing.  

Me with race director Jonathon Black

Most of the women racers (and one husband) having dinner together before the race

Even with all that I will be missing, I’m still sure this is my last multi-day race. Now who wants to still place bets on that? 

But don't worry, I’m not giving up riding my bike. I might not be bikepack racing, but I’ll still be out there pushing my limits!  In fact, Riley and I just signed up to do the Whiskey, Tango, Fondo, a challenging 100-mile gravel ride with over 11,000 feet of climbing in the Sierra Mountains, in late April.

The Top of the World Highway

 

Post by Corrine

As I slowly pedaled up another hill on the Top of the World Highway, the bright sun shone down on me, but in my head it was dark.

“What had I been thinking? Two back-to-back 90-mile days with over 8000 feet of elevation gain each day. Why did I think this would be a fun way to spend a weekend?”

The cold headwind didn’t help. Having to start the day with a long, 3000-foot climb didn’t help either. Neither did starting the day with not enough water. Usually, I love long bike rides, but this wasn’t any fun.

These thoughts filled my head as I pedaled on the second day of my two-day roundtrip bike outing between Chicken and Dawson. 

A New-to-Me Road with Needed Hills and Miles

If you heard me say earlier that I was done with bikepack racing after finishing the Bike Nonstop US a few weeks ago, you heard right. After biking more than 3600 miles in just under 30 days, I thought I had had enough. But then I heard about the East Idaho Epic Race, a 430-mile mixed surface bikepack race starting September 20. It starts in Idaho Falls, makes a loop in the mountains to the south, and then comes back to town. Several friends had done it and said it was awesome.

East Idaho Epic Route

The justification was surprisingly easy. I had been biking a lot this summer already. I didn’t need a lot of big training, just some “tuning up.” I have done bikepacking races in Idaho, including part of the Bike Nonstop, but I hadn’t seen this particular area of Idaho. But I also have to admit that I was feeling a bit of FOMO. I signed up. 

But the course is very hilly, and with my goal of finishing in four to five days, I would need to climb over 7000 feet every day. So, I needed to do some hilly riding with a fully loaded bike to see if I could still do it. I pondered where I could get in a good hilly ride. I thought of several possibilities including the Top of the World Highway, a remote summer-only road that connects the Taylor Highway to Dawson City, Yukon, 80 miles away. We had driven to Dawson years ago with the kids but I had never biked it.

East Idaho Epic stats and elevation profile

Lael Wilcox, Anchorage born-and-raised and one of the best endurance bike racers in the world, was doing an FKT (Fastest Known Time) from Chicken all the way up the Dempster Highway in Canada to Tuktoyaktuk, Northwest Territories, on the Arctic Ocean. The first part of her route was on the Top of the World Highway. Photos of her trip on social media looked awesome. 

The weather forecast for Chicken and Dawson called for only a 20% chance of showers. Much better than the rainy forecast here in Fairbanks. And that section of road was one of the few highways in Interior Alaska I hadn’t biked. My decision was made. I would bike from about Chicken to Dawson City and back in two days. Lots of miles (about 180), lots of hills, and a new-to-me biking road. 

A Long Weekend

With travel time factored in, I would be gone from Thursday through Sunday. Now that I’m retired, that’s not a problem. However, since most of my long-distance biking buddies still work, nobody was able to join me, but I was okay with that. There would be some traffic on the road in case I got into any trouble. I decided to start from Walker Fork Campground, 15 miles past Chicken, where I could camp and leave my vehicle.

Google Maps route of my planned bike

After a long drive – seven hours with all the construction delays – I made it to the campground and set up camp. With our new pop-up camper, it was super easy. Park the truck, pop up the camper, and, voila, camp was ready. I even had time to go for a little bike ride to stretch my legs before going to bed.

A Fun Ride to Dawson City

The ride the next morning started with a long 14-mile climb on the Taylor Highway to its junction with the Top of the World Highway. My legs felt good, and the gravel road was in decent shape as I made my way uphill following Wade Creek. The sun was shining, too. 

After reaching the junction, I turned right and had 13 miles of paved road with a final three-mile steep uphill before getting to the border with Canada, where the road changes back to a gravel road. After the border crossing, I had another mile of uphill before reaching Davis Dome, the high point on the Top of the World Highway. People who were parked there cheered me on as I made the summit. After that there was a nice long downhill followed by endless ups and downs on the ridge. 

I made it to the Yukon!  You can see the top of Davis Dome behind the sign.

While stopped at a rest stop for lunch, three jeeps pulled up. Out of one stepped Brian and Audra Accola, Fairbanks friends! How fun! They were returning from a week-long trip up the Dempster Highway. Audra gave me some extra chocolate (I had not brought enough and was having to ration) before we went our separate ways. 

I had more uphills and downhills, but the views were spectacular, and the fall colors were gorgeous. I could see clouds building behind me, though, and soon the rain was upon me. I kept riding with an awesome tailwind that pushed me along. The rain soon stopped, and I dried out just as another line of showers hit me. Oh well, I got to see some beautiful rainbows with the showers coming and going. And I stayed warm enough.

The rain stopped after about two hours, and I had time to dry out before the 10-mile, 3000-foot descent to the Yukon River and Dawson City. I pulled into the campground about 9 PM (I lost an hour with the time change in the Yukon), so I quickly set up my small one-person tent. Then I caught the free ferry across the river to get dinner in Dawson City. By the time I finished with my burger and fries and caught the ferry back, it was around 11 p.m. and dark, so I went to bed. 

Downtown Dawson City

Waiting for the ferry after dinner

While lying in my sleeping bag, thinking about the 3000-foot climb I would have first thing in the morning, I suddenly remembered that I needed water. I had filled my water bottle at dinner and had about two liters in my Camelbak, but I knew I needed more. But where was the water pump in the campground? I hadn’t remembered seeing one. I got out my iPhone and found the campground map online, but it showed no pump or water. I was camped right along the Yukon River, but it was too silty to use without sitting for several hours. Yikes, I guess no hot breakfast with tea in the morning for me. Maybe I could find a place to filter water along the way. (Spoiler alert: I found no place to filter water until crossing the border and by then I was almost back to my campsite.)

Campsite on the Yukon River

Dark Times During a Sunny Return Trip

The next morning the temperature was right at 32 F when I started the long climb back up to the ridge. There was a headwind, too. In fact, even though it was sunny all day, I never took off any layers due to that cold head wind. 

From the beginning I was on the struggle bus. I was able to climb but only in my lowest gear, and I was so slow. My legs felt dead compared to the previous day. That cold headwind did not help. I was not having any fun. And my SI joints (sacroiliac – where the spine meets the hip) were bothering me. I just wanted to get back to my truck in Walker Fork Campground, but that required a long, long day on the bike with close to 9000 feet of climbing. So, I just put my head down and kept pedaling. 

Another never-ending hill

When I got to the top of the long climb I finally put in my earbuds and turned on music, opting to listen to ‘70s Hit Essentials that I had previously downloaded from Apple Music. Usually, these songs put me in a good mood. They are the songs of my youth and so many are just so dorky. But even that didn’t put me in a better mood. Nothing to do but soldier on. At one point I had to wait about five minutes for a black bear to leave the road, but even that wildlife sighting didn’t cheer me up. This was turning into a long slog.

I did ask tourists twice if they had any water to spare so at least I didn’t run out of water. I kept hoping that they would ask if I needed anything else, like a ride, but nobody did. I swear, if anybody had offered me a ride, I would have taken it. Really.

Even though it was a beautiful day, I really didn’t enjoy it. I took almost no pictures. I had more fun the previous day when I was getting rained on. What was wrong with me? And what if my legs just gave out and quit working? Would I need to lay down in the middle of the road so somebody would help me? I told myself to quit catastrophizing, which is something I never do. 

Just keep pedaling.  You can do it!

I tried to coach myself through these doldrums: “You can pedal your bike, and you are fine, you are just slow and tired. So what? Keep pedaling.” And it was true. Maybe I just didn’t have it in me to do long back-to-back days. Maybe the Idaho race was beyond me. But right now all I could do was keep pedaling and try not to take too many breaks so I could be back at my campsite before it got dark. 

I got off my bike and walked up the last steep mile back up to Davis Dome. My legs were just so tired. When I was just a quarter mile from the high point, a driver coming the other direction asked if I needed help getting to the top. I only had a couple of more minutes of pushing, so I said thanks but no. After that, I knew I only had one more sustained uphill and then it would be 14 glorious miles downhill back to my campsite.

It's all downhill from here!

I made it back just before dark. It took me 11 hours to bike to Dawson City and 13 hours to bike back. And those final 14 miles were cold. It was 39F when I finished my ride, so I immediately jumped into the truck cab, started it, and turned up the heat. As the truck warmed, I ate a bunch of snacks. When I was warm enough, I popped up the camper and climbed into bed to sleep.

A New Morning, A Better Outlook, But Still…

By morning, I felt much better overall. I was glad that nobody had asked about a ride. I would have been disappointed if I hadn’t done the full back-to-back big days. But I was more tired than I expected to be after just two days. This didn’t bode well for doing four big days in a row for the East Idaho Epic. But I shoved that out of my mind. For now, I just needed to drive to Tok to get breakfast at Fast Eddy’s before heading home to Fairbanks. 

The Top of the World Highway is worth biking but doing it all in one day makes for a long, tough day. Or at least it does if you are slower, like me. But it was perfect training. I’m still not sure it was the best decision I’ve ever made, but it did get me out of town and back on my bike. 

Still, even now, a week later, I’m still not sure what I’m going to do about the East Idaho Epic. I did a bigger ride today and felt pretty good, but I didn’t have a fully loaded bike either. Fortunately, I don’t have to decide about that for another two weeks. 

For now, I’m glad that I did another long bike ride on a beautiful highway that was new to me. Experiences like that make me want to keep bikepacking for as long as I can. 

Visiting our Public Lands

“This place is amazing!”

“These views are spectacular!” 

“These flowers are beautiful!”

 “This is the BEST HIKE EVER!” 

My superlatives kept coming as we continued hiking. Although they were rolling their eyes at me, Eric along with Teresa and Mark really couldn’t disagree. We were out on a fabulous 7-mile hike in Payette National Forest in the mountains north of McCall, Idaho. This was exactly how I wanted to spend my time after my bike race.

Post Race Time

After I successfully finished my Bike NonStop US bikepacking race, it was time to relax. Eric and I planned to spend a month making our way home, hiking and biking and visiting public lands along the way. Both Eric and I love to be physically active in outdoor spaces and what better way of doing this than on our public lands. We didn’t really have an agenda except to visit new-to-us places, to hike to a lookout in Canada that I really wanted to see, and to catch a ferry in Bellingham on August 1. 

Cuyahoga Valley National Park

After a few days of rest in Washington, D.C., with friends Elisa and Steve, we started heading west. 

First was a visit to see my sister, Cindy, who lives outside of Akron, Ohio, a 6-hour drive from D.C. It was great to catch up with her, and while there we realized a national park neither of us had visited was just 30 minutes from where she lives. Of course, we had to go. 

With my oldest sister Cindy

Cuyahoga Valley National Park is a bit of an oddity as it is surrounded by urban America. It was first designated as a National Recreation Area to preserve the "scenic, recreational, natural, and historic" values of the land between Cleveland and Akron, which was threatened by development. It was redesignated as a national park in 2000 to provide greater recognition and protection.

We enjoyed stretching our legs on the iconic Ledges Trail. As a national park it is a bit underwhelming, especially when compared to parks such as Denali and Yellowstone, but it was pretty, and we were glad to have visited.

Apostle Islands National Lakeshore

Next, we headed to northern Wisconsin. Eric had never been across Lake Michigan, so instead of driving around the lake (and through Chicago!), we opted to drive to Muskegon, Michigan, to catch the fast ferry to Milwaukee, spending time along both sides of Lake Michigan. Muskegon didn’t do much for us, but we enjoyed a couple of days just north of Milwaukee in Two Rivers, Wisconsin, riding bikes along Lake Michigan and taking a well-needed rest day when it rained. 

Biking along Lake Michigan in Two Rivers, Wisconsin

Neither of us had ever been to the Apostle Islands National Lakeshore, so we decided to take a kayak tour. Our guides were excellent, and we enjoyed the trip, especially kayaking through sea cave formations. Having done ocean kayak trips in Alaska, we were surprised by the lack of animals. We saw a couple of bald eagles and some songbirds, but that was about it. However, we did get a great tour of an old lighthouse. The day before the kayak tour, Eric hiked a trail along Lake Superior while I did a 50-mile bike ride exploring the coast and hillier inland country. Another great visit to another new-to-us public land.

Theodore Roosevelt National Park

Looking further west on the map, we didn’t see a lot of public lands until the mountain states but then we noted Theodore Roosevelt National Park in northwest North Dakota. Neither of us had been there, but I remembered that Matt and Karen Smith of the “Dear Bob and Sue” books and podcast (all about visiting national parks and public lands) considered it a hidden gem. We relistened to their podcast as we headed west. Even though they loved the park, we had low expectations. But we were surprised by 1) being able to get campsites on a July weekend in the middle of the busy summer tourist season and 2) the variety of landscapes and animal life in the park. Lots of bird life and prairie dogs and bison everywhere. We saw them driving, hiking, biking and even in our campsite. And the landscapes are like the more popular Badlands National Park in South Dakota. We loved the scenery and geologic formations of cannonball concretions and petrified wood forests. This area is definitely a hidden gem. Don’t miss it if you are in the area.

Petrified tree stump

Bison walking right by our car!

Cannonball concretions - a really amazing type of geologic formation

Family and Friends in Montana and Idaho

Next, we drove through Montana. We stopped at Pompeys Pillar National Monument for a hike and to see the place where William Clark (of Lewis and Clark) had carved his name in rock (history comes alive), and then it was on to Helena to visit friends. We got lucky again with the weather, having our second day of rain just when we planned a down day. 

Named after Sacajawea's son

It was cool to see Clark's name that he carved into the rock

Visiting Craig and Mary Kay Linke, Eric's good friends from college days.  We had a few years of both of our families backpacking together.

Visiting Linda Gryzcan, a 70+ bikepacker extraordinaire 

Then it was on to Missoula and visiting our daughter Montana. Eric had gone to college in Missoula, and it was fun to see some of his old haunts and hear stories of his escapades while in college. Eric and I hiked and biked in green spaces when Montana was busy and then when she was free, we all tubed down the Clark Fork River and went ax throwing(!). It was a short but fun visit.

We then headed southwest so we could visit Eric’s sister, Teresa, and her husband Mark in McCall, Idaho, and see the house they had recently built. We stopped along the Lochsa River to do a hike on national forest land.

Hike along the Lochsa River just west of Lolo Pass

McCall is a great small town surrounded by lots of public lands. We had fun doing the nearly perfect hike mentioned earlier, to Hidden and Hard Creek lakes. It ticked all my boxes. Mountain lakes and meadows with great views! Hiking that was stimulating but not too hard or too long! Perfect weather, sunny but not too hot with minimal bugs! And great company! We spent another day in McCall biking and going out on the lake on a pontoon boat. We wanted to stay longer but we still had the one place I really wanted to visit. It was way up in Canada in the Kootenay Mountains near Nakusp, British Columbia. It would be a long drive there from McCall, so I looked for more public lands where we might camp to break up the drive.

With Mark and Teresa at Hidden Lake

Beautiful hike to Hidden and Hard Creek Lakes near McCall, Idaho

The perfect hike with wildflowers, mountain vistas and great weather

Wallowa-Whitman National Forest

Oregon and Washington have many public lands. One of my favorite places to visit when I lived in Spokane, Washington, was the Wallowa Mountains – majestic peaks set in the northeast corner of Oregon. Unfortunately, as it was summer, no campsites were available the days we would be there, but a couple of spots were left at Anthony Lake Campground in the nearby Elkhorn Mountains in Wallowa-Whitman National Forest. It looked to be a beautiful spot with hiking right from the campground. The weather was a bit iffy with highs in the mid-50’s and rain the first afternoon but then improving. We invited friends, Mike and Annie, who had recently moved from Fairbanks to Walla Walla, Washington, and they were gung-ho to camp with us. So, I made the reservations, and we planned to meet up at the campground.

With Mike and Annie at Anthony Lake Campground in the Elkhorn Mountains

The weather was cool our entire time camping, but it rained only a couple of hours, and we had a great time together. We hiked around the lake and the next day to another lake and a nice high lookout. We cooked over the campfire and played cards and had a great relaxing time. We were happy to have found another hidden gem. 

Then it was finally time to get to the one spot that I definitely wanted to see.

Saddle Mountain Lookout and Kokanee Glacier Provincial Park

I follow a van-lifer on YouTube, Simon Lambert, known as Foresty Forest, who does epic outdoor adventures while living in his van. He made a winter ascent of Saddle Mountain to a lookout hut, which looked absolutely amazing, especially the drone footage. It was bit of a hairy ascent in winter, but he mentioned there was a trail to the top in summer. I looked it up and found the trail to be very doable. It was the one place that I absolutely wanted to get to on our trip back home. 

We did get there, and it did NOT disappoint. What can I say? The 6-8 mile roundtrip trail was mostly in excellent shape with just a little rock scrambling and with some downed trees to go over and under. The wildflowers were at their peak, the views were incredible, and we even saw some mountain goats. The hut sits high up on a rocky prominence with 360-degree views. It’s an absolutely stunning location and you can even spend the night in the hut. It’s first-come, first-served, but we didn’t have enough time for that. So, we opted for a day hike. We were the first hikers to the cabin (we got up early to drive the 3 hours to the trailhead) and had it to ourselves for 40 minutes before being surprised by a helicopter that landed on a landing pad next to the hut. Four people got out, and about then others hiked up from the trail. But even that didn’t spoil the beauty of this glorious spot. I highly recommend hiking to this place!

Grouse posing in a field of wildflowers

A little climbing over and under downed trees!

A little scrambling near the top

Is it cheating to take a helicopter ride to this spectacular place?!

Since we were already in the Kootenay Mountains, I looked for something else to do. I remembered snowshoeing into Kokanee Glacier Provincial Park in early May many years ago and that it was stupendous. I found out that the 10 backcountry campsites at Kaslo Lake are first-come, first-served. We decided to try for it, but then I found that it was recommended to porcupine-proof your vehicle at the trailhead, as these animals can chew on tires and through brake lines, etc. It was recommended to either put chicken wire around your vehicle or wrap it in a tarp. It wasn’t clear which was better. Did we really want to spend the money on these things just for a couple of days in the backcountry? At first, we decided no, but then I rechecked the weather and it looked to be excellent (warm and sunny with only a slight possibility of afternoon thunderstorms). How could we pass up this opportunity?

Porcupine-proofing our truck with blue tarp AND chicken wire. It may have been a little overkill!  Most people just used chicken wire.

So we bought the supplies and got up early to be on the trail by 9 AM and hopefully get a backcountry site. We also decided to go on Monday instead of the weekend to increase our chances. We were surprised how many cars were in the parking lot when we arrived but hoped most of them were leaving. Everybody had their cars wrapped in chicken wire, so we prepared our car, too. But we had decided to be overachievers and use both a tarp AND chicken wire – we really didn’t want any car issues before our ferry trip. 

Kokanee Lake

The hike in was only 5 miles with 1700 feet elevation gain. The views just got better and better. Kokanee Lake, about halfway in, was beautiful although there was a little exposure over rocks as we hiked high above the length of the lake. We then hiked over Kokanee Pass before dropping through pretty meadows and finally reaching our destination at Kaslo Lake. We got a campsite (the camp did fill up that night) and after setting up our tent, we did another hike to the Kokanee Glacier Cabin (sleeps 20 and has electricity, hot showers, and indoor toilets -- all for $25/person/night!  It’s wildly popular and has a lottery to get a spot) and then further to the historic Slocum Chief Cabin and Helen Deane Lake. 

Kokanee Glacier Cabin - hot water, electricity all for $25/night/person

Not a bad view from the deck of the Kokanee Glacier Cabin

The historic Slocum Chief Cabin.  I'm pretty sure I snowshoed to this cabin from another direction almost 40 years ago.

Helen Deane Lake

The campground at Kaslo Lake has an enclosed cooking shelter with glass windows (which was great as the mosquitoes were annoying) and it was fun to meet other backpackers. We met Julie, a former Alaskan who, with her husband, started and ran Title Wave Books, a well-known independent bookstore in Anchorage, before they retired to Washington. We also met a mom, Joyee, and her two teen-age daughters, who lived off-grid with their dad and another handicapped daughter, in Slocum Valley – the valley further west near the equally spectacular Valhalla Mountains. It was fun to hear about their lifestyle, living with no electricity (except what they get from solar panels to run their computers and charge their phones) or running water. The family also play in their own band (called the Rainbow Hippos). They had been living this lifestyle for 15 years now and love the slower pace of their life. We ended up doing the same hike as them the next day so got to spend more time with them. 

Our campsite at Kaslo Lake

The cooking and food storage shelter at Kaslo Lake Campground

Inside the shelter

Joyee and her daughters who live off-grid in the Slocan Valley

The second day we did a hike up to Sapphire Lakes, summitting Mt. Geigerich first. Another day of stunning views and good hiking and great weather. Such an amazing place. And we and the other family had it all to ourselves. It was spectacular!

Sapphire Lakes

View of the Valhallas from Mt. Geigrich

Glory Basin

Time to finally go home

After the backpack adventure it was time to head to the ferry in Bellingham. We biked on trails and gravel roads in the national forest outside of Winthrop, Washington, and hiked in Whatcom Falls Park on the edge of Bellingham before boarding our ferry. 

On the ferry from Bellingham, Washington to Haines, Alaska

When we got off the ferry three days later, it was another two days of driving to get home. I have mixed feelings about this. It’s good to be home after 2.5 months away with over 12,000 miles of driving.  We had plenty of adventures, mostly good bad some not so much, including coming within 5 miles of running out of gas in very rural North Dakota and getting a huge hunk of metal stuck in our tire requiring getting four new tires in Castlegar, British Columbia. And me getting hundreds of no-see-um bites while in Theodore Roosevelt National Park!

But I’m also sad to stop exploring our public lands. There are so many beautiful and wild places in Canada and the US left to explore. We tried to see as many as we could along the way.  Almost every day we made sure to stop and stretch our legs on public lands that were on our route. 

Brownstone Falls in Copper Falls State Park in Wisconsin. We stopped here for a quick hike on our way to Apostle Islands.

It was nice to camp in our new pop-up camper-topper

Hopefully in a couple of years, we will do another trip. Maybe eastern Canada and New England in the fall? Or southwestern US in the spring? We are lucky to have so many public lands: BLM, national forests, national and state parks. Many of these places are at risk right now from budget cuts and possibly selling of the land to private investors. We need to protect these wild places for future generations to enjoy. If you feel the same way, please write or call and let your legislators know.