It clear why they are called the Sawtooth Mountains. Recently two vacation options were presented to me.
One: Carribean cruise featuring:
Two: Backpacking trip featuring:
Hands down and unhesitantly, I chose Option Two. Hislop/Drago Adventures, 2019 edition, was a backpacking trip to and through Idaho’s Sawtooth Mountain range.
The Sawtooth Mountains are amazing. Seriously amazing. And so beautiful. It was very obvious how they got their name. The peaks are jagged and very close together, much like the teeth on the cutting edge of a saw. Massive. Majestic. Magnificent.
The trail to Sawtooth Lake ascends almost 2,000 feet over five miles. We felt the burn in our butts and calves as we sucked air and stomped/slid over snow banks on our way up the mountain. Lance was the first to reach Sawtooth Lake, the first to cast a line in the water, and the first to catch a fish.
Sawtooth Lake was impressive, both in its beauty and its ice pack. When we arrived that evening the lake was mostly ice covered. When we awoke the next morning it was totally ice covered.
Day 2 took us over the ridge that hems in Sawtooth Lake, into a second, higher mountain basin, and onto a second, higher ridge. On the way to the second ridge, we crossed multiple snow packs, including one rather sketchy one where we almost lost Michelle. Eventually we did lose the trail. [Trails buried under 6 feet of snow are much harder to follow than trails that are not buried.]
On the second, higher ridge, we looked west into the drainage that led to Stanley Lake. We could see the trail on the opposite side of the valley but we could not see a way to get there. We paused to consult the map and consider our options. While Lance, Joe, and Michael studied the map and the terrain I retreated back down the east side of the ridge in search of the trail. Assuming I had more insight and intelligence than I actually possessed, the group followed me down. When it became obvious that the trail was not obvious--we could not find it--we called for another option-considering consultation..
We could travel on top of the snowpack that we suspected hid the trail, we could call it quits and retreat to Sawtooth Lake or we could return to the top of ridge and bushwack down the west side, into the valley we knew housed the trail we desired. Snowpacks are dangerous, especially when one is going downhill. I have both read about and experienced horrible outcomes when bushwacking ...falls, broken legs, cliffing out, getting lost, etc. [Bushwhacking is leaving the established trail and whacking one’s way through the bushes.] And returning to Sawtooth Lake would be defeating and demoralizing, not to mention exhausting--we’d come a long way down since topping the ridges surrounding the lake. What to do?
Pray.
We prayed
We all agreed the snowpacks were too dangerous and no one wanted to retreat. Micheal was certain he could lead us down the west side of the ridge to the other trail and Mikayla did NOT want to climb back up to Sawtooth Lake. We re-ascended the (VERY STEEP) ridge. .
And it was the right decision. We made it down without incident and (another tender mercy) found the trail just as it curved south. If we’d have been 50 yards further north we would not have found the trail until we crossed to the other side of the drainage; we would have had to bushwhack much, much more.
Back on the trail and going downhill we made good time; trail hiking is much, much easier than bushwhacking. Shortly after passing Bridal Veil Falls--we were too exhausted to give it much more than a glance--Miles found an ideal camp spot and we crashed for the night. And I mean crashed. Most everyone was in bed by 8:00 p.m.
It rained that night but sunrise brought sunny skies. Slowly and steadily we made our way to Stanley Lake Campground where Joe declared we would not be backpacking anymore and Lance secured for us the last open site in the Stanley Lake Campground.
The hike to the campground was dream-come-true material for me...a wilderness trail winding through alpine meadows dotted with wildflowers, interrupted by fir tree islands and flanked by jagged peaks. Oh beautiful for spacious skies!!!! My legs were heavy but my cup was totally full.
We collapsed for a moment in the campground but only for a moment. The siren sound of fish lured the men to the lake though the men’s lures did not bring the fish to their hooks. Neither did worms or Powerbait.
The fishing was less than stellar but the story that unfolded on the lake’s shore was stunning.
Michael Drago, son of Joe and Michelle Drago, former Marine and current mountain man, invited Mikayla, his high school sweetheart, on our backpacking trip. We all fell in love with Mikayla. Having never done anything like this before, she was probably the least physically prepared for the trip’s rigors. She was also, unquestionably, the trips’ most positive person.
At the water’s edge, Micheal encouraged Mikayla to make a sand castle. When the castle was completed he placed a diamond ring on its top turret and invited the castle’s princess to share his life with him. Just like that Micheal and Mikayla were engaged! Kisses and congratulations followed as did toasts from the bottle of sparkling cider that Joe backpacked up and over the mountains in anticipation of the occasion.
Having decided NOT to backpack anymore, we needed a way to get the cars, which were waiting for us at the Iron Creek trailhead (8 hiking miles or 25 driving minutes away). Enter Ethan the Angel.
While Lance was fishing at the dock (almost a mile away), he was approached by a 17 year old boy who asked him how the fishing was. They became friends and the boy, who we came to know as Ethan from Kuna, ID, followed Lance back to our camp. We chatted around the campfire and, in the course of the conversation, Joe asked Ethan if he had a truck. Having heard about our hiking adventures from Lance (who I am certain did not exaggerate at all….) Ethan was receptive to Joe’s request for a ride; he said he’d ask his stepfather. Later, when he left our camp, he promised to get back to us about the ride options. As we thanked him, he said, “I don’t think this was a coincidence.” Pointing heavenward, he said, “I think He had something to do with it.”
Bless Ethan and his non-coincidence! He returned a few minutes later with his stepfather, who was as gregarious and generous as Ethan. Though it was well after dark and we were complete strangers, the step father drove Micheal and Lance to Iron Creek Trailhead where they retrieved the cars, saving us an 8 mile trek.
The last day of our trip was relaxing and wonderful. The men fished, Michelle cross stitched, Mikayla read, and I hiked to Lady Face Falls. After eating four fresh, foil-wrapped and fire-roasted fish, we found ourselves in cars heading home. We made a nostalgic stop at the Manhattan Cafe in Shoshone, where Michelle hung out as a teenager several decades ago, to eat lunch. Michelle relived memories and we made them. At Joe’s suggestion, we watched the Youtube video “Jog Strap”. I may or may not have screamed several times….
And then it was over….all but the memories. And what great memories they are!
Joe and Michelle are the world’s greatest camping companions. Every ready for adventure and never waiting to criticize, their upbeat attitudes and inclination to laugh are priceless. I am so grateful for the experiences we’ve had together that we’d have never had without them. I am also grateful for Micheal and his map skills and for the chance to be a part of his and Mikayla’s story.
Miles, the self-proclaimed 7th wheel, was trip’s go-to goat. He tested bridges, carried backpacks across rivers, and ferried walking sticks across the marsh. A grateful Michelle promised him a loaf of her homemade bread for his efforts, a promise he treasures as the best part of his trip.
Miles described Lance as “Beast”. In Lance’s words, he (Lance) “carried an extra 180 lbs AND a 40 lb backpack” (overstatement) and still he made it. Though out of his preferred element and in considerable discomfort (understatement), he was in the front on most of the hikes, he kept us laughing with his self-deprecating humor, and, miracle of miracles, he agreed to go on next year’s backpacking trip, providing we get him a backpack that fits. HOORAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
As for me, I learned a lot and made some plans. Hiking poles, the Jetboil stove, a Louis L'Amour paperback and a neck gaiter are now must-take camping items. In the future I will pack more than one pair of socks, will bring a topo map, and will have Lance try on his backpack before leaving the house. I remembered, as I experienced it, how much I love the whole-body aching, bone-sore and butt-tired feeling that one earns when one pushes one’s self out of one’s physical comfort zone. I will court that feeling. I plan to nourish the Drago friendship hoping they will continue to adventure with us. And I learned, as I do on every trip to the wilderness, that I Love The Mountains!!!!
Houaida
I love the mountains.
I love the rolling hills.
I love the flowers.
I love the daffodils.
I love the fireside.
When all the lights are low.
Boom dee ah dah. Boom dee ah dah.
Boom dee ah dah. Boom dee ah dah.
Boom dee ah dah. Boom dee ah dah.
Boom dee ah dah. Boom dee ah dah.
I love the ocean
I love the open sea
I love the forest
I love the bumblebees
I love the stars above
When night turns into day
Boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee
Boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom
I love the sunshine
I love the butterflies
I love the windblow
I love the river flow
I love the shadows cast
When the moon is high
Boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom
Boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom
One: Carribean cruise featuring:
- All you can eat gourmet food
- Comfortable beds with clean sheets and fluffy pillows
- Warm weather as one sits in a pool, on deck chairs, or at miniature golf course.
Two: Backpacking trip featuring:
- A climb up and down the equivalent of 200 flights of stairs carrying all of one’s meals and luggage
- Reconstituted freeze dried food
- A hard bed in a 4’ x 6’ foot room with a ceiling so low that one’s head hits the roof even when kneeling, accompanied by mosquitoes and ants, next to a snowbank and frozen lake
Hands down and unhesitantly, I chose Option Two. Hislop/Drago Adventures, 2019 edition, was a backpacking trip to and through Idaho’s Sawtooth Mountain range.
The Sawtooth Mountains are amazing. Seriously amazing. And so beautiful. It was very obvious how they got their name. The peaks are jagged and very close together, much like the teeth on the cutting edge of a saw. Massive. Majestic. Magnificent.
The trail to Sawtooth Lake ascends almost 2,000 feet over five miles. We felt the burn in our butts and calves as we sucked air and stomped/slid over snow banks on our way up the mountain. Lance was the first to reach Sawtooth Lake, the first to cast a line in the water, and the first to catch a fish.
Sawtooth Lake was impressive, both in its beauty and its ice pack. When we arrived that evening the lake was mostly ice covered. When we awoke the next morning it was totally ice covered.
Day 2 took us over the ridge that hems in Sawtooth Lake, into a second, higher mountain basin, and onto a second, higher ridge. On the way to the second ridge, we crossed multiple snow packs, including one rather sketchy one where we almost lost Michelle. Eventually we did lose the trail. [Trails buried under 6 feet of snow are much harder to follow than trails that are not buried.]
On the second, higher ridge, we looked west into the drainage that led to Stanley Lake. We could see the trail on the opposite side of the valley but we could not see a way to get there. We paused to consult the map and consider our options. While Lance, Joe, and Michael studied the map and the terrain I retreated back down the east side of the ridge in search of the trail. Assuming I had more insight and intelligence than I actually possessed, the group followed me down. When it became obvious that the trail was not obvious--we could not find it--we called for another option-considering consultation..
We could travel on top of the snowpack that we suspected hid the trail, we could call it quits and retreat to Sawtooth Lake or we could return to the top of ridge and bushwack down the west side, into the valley we knew housed the trail we desired. Snowpacks are dangerous, especially when one is going downhill. I have both read about and experienced horrible outcomes when bushwacking ...falls, broken legs, cliffing out, getting lost, etc. [Bushwhacking is leaving the established trail and whacking one’s way through the bushes.] And returning to Sawtooth Lake would be defeating and demoralizing, not to mention exhausting--we’d come a long way down since topping the ridges surrounding the lake. What to do?
Pray.
We prayed
We all agreed the snowpacks were too dangerous and no one wanted to retreat. Micheal was certain he could lead us down the west side of the ridge to the other trail and Mikayla did NOT want to climb back up to Sawtooth Lake. We re-ascended the (VERY STEEP) ridge. .
And it was the right decision. We made it down without incident and (another tender mercy) found the trail just as it curved south. If we’d have been 50 yards further north we would not have found the trail until we crossed to the other side of the drainage; we would have had to bushwhack much, much more.
Back on the trail and going downhill we made good time; trail hiking is much, much easier than bushwhacking. Shortly after passing Bridal Veil Falls--we were too exhausted to give it much more than a glance--Miles found an ideal camp spot and we crashed for the night. And I mean crashed. Most everyone was in bed by 8:00 p.m.
It rained that night but sunrise brought sunny skies. Slowly and steadily we made our way to Stanley Lake Campground where Joe declared we would not be backpacking anymore and Lance secured for us the last open site in the Stanley Lake Campground.
The hike to the campground was dream-come-true material for me...a wilderness trail winding through alpine meadows dotted with wildflowers, interrupted by fir tree islands and flanked by jagged peaks. Oh beautiful for spacious skies!!!! My legs were heavy but my cup was totally full.
We collapsed for a moment in the campground but only for a moment. The siren sound of fish lured the men to the lake though the men’s lures did not bring the fish to their hooks. Neither did worms or Powerbait.
The fishing was less than stellar but the story that unfolded on the lake’s shore was stunning.
Michael Drago, son of Joe and Michelle Drago, former Marine and current mountain man, invited Mikayla, his high school sweetheart, on our backpacking trip. We all fell in love with Mikayla. Having never done anything like this before, she was probably the least physically prepared for the trip’s rigors. She was also, unquestionably, the trips’ most positive person.
At the water’s edge, Micheal encouraged Mikayla to make a sand castle. When the castle was completed he placed a diamond ring on its top turret and invited the castle’s princess to share his life with him. Just like that Micheal and Mikayla were engaged! Kisses and congratulations followed as did toasts from the bottle of sparkling cider that Joe backpacked up and over the mountains in anticipation of the occasion.
Having decided NOT to backpack anymore, we needed a way to get the cars, which were waiting for us at the Iron Creek trailhead (8 hiking miles or 25 driving minutes away). Enter Ethan the Angel.
While Lance was fishing at the dock (almost a mile away), he was approached by a 17 year old boy who asked him how the fishing was. They became friends and the boy, who we came to know as Ethan from Kuna, ID, followed Lance back to our camp. We chatted around the campfire and, in the course of the conversation, Joe asked Ethan if he had a truck. Having heard about our hiking adventures from Lance (who I am certain did not exaggerate at all….) Ethan was receptive to Joe’s request for a ride; he said he’d ask his stepfather. Later, when he left our camp, he promised to get back to us about the ride options. As we thanked him, he said, “I don’t think this was a coincidence.” Pointing heavenward, he said, “I think He had something to do with it.”
Bless Ethan and his non-coincidence! He returned a few minutes later with his stepfather, who was as gregarious and generous as Ethan. Though it was well after dark and we were complete strangers, the step father drove Micheal and Lance to Iron Creek Trailhead where they retrieved the cars, saving us an 8 mile trek.
The last day of our trip was relaxing and wonderful. The men fished, Michelle cross stitched, Mikayla read, and I hiked to Lady Face Falls. After eating four fresh, foil-wrapped and fire-roasted fish, we found ourselves in cars heading home. We made a nostalgic stop at the Manhattan Cafe in Shoshone, where Michelle hung out as a teenager several decades ago, to eat lunch. Michelle relived memories and we made them. At Joe’s suggestion, we watched the Youtube video “Jog Strap”. I may or may not have screamed several times….
And then it was over….all but the memories. And what great memories they are!
Joe and Michelle are the world’s greatest camping companions. Every ready for adventure and never waiting to criticize, their upbeat attitudes and inclination to laugh are priceless. I am so grateful for the experiences we’ve had together that we’d have never had without them. I am also grateful for Micheal and his map skills and for the chance to be a part of his and Mikayla’s story.
Miles, the self-proclaimed 7th wheel, was trip’s go-to goat. He tested bridges, carried backpacks across rivers, and ferried walking sticks across the marsh. A grateful Michelle promised him a loaf of her homemade bread for his efforts, a promise he treasures as the best part of his trip.
Miles described Lance as “Beast”. In Lance’s words, he (Lance) “carried an extra 180 lbs AND a 40 lb backpack” (overstatement) and still he made it. Though out of his preferred element and in considerable discomfort (understatement), he was in the front on most of the hikes, he kept us laughing with his self-deprecating humor, and, miracle of miracles, he agreed to go on next year’s backpacking trip, providing we get him a backpack that fits. HOORAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
As for me, I learned a lot and made some plans. Hiking poles, the Jetboil stove, a Louis L'Amour paperback and a neck gaiter are now must-take camping items. In the future I will pack more than one pair of socks, will bring a topo map, and will have Lance try on his backpack before leaving the house. I remembered, as I experienced it, how much I love the whole-body aching, bone-sore and butt-tired feeling that one earns when one pushes one’s self out of one’s physical comfort zone. I will court that feeling. I plan to nourish the Drago friendship hoping they will continue to adventure with us. And I learned, as I do on every trip to the wilderness, that I Love The Mountains!!!!
Houaida
I love the mountains.
I love the rolling hills.
I love the flowers.
I love the daffodils.
I love the fireside.
When all the lights are low.
Boom dee ah dah. Boom dee ah dah.
Boom dee ah dah. Boom dee ah dah.
Boom dee ah dah. Boom dee ah dah.
Boom dee ah dah. Boom dee ah dah.
I love the ocean
I love the open sea
I love the forest
I love the bumblebees
I love the stars above
When night turns into day
Boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee
Boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom
I love the sunshine
I love the butterflies
I love the windblow
I love the river flow
I love the shadows cast
When the moon is high
Boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom
Boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom-dee-a-da, boom
Most of us are happy to be here!
 This is the closest I have ever been to a canine fox.  Miles in the Sawtooths  Better caterpillars than mosquitoes! |  Our first stream crossing  Snowfields can be tricky. |
Sawtooth Lake, side view
 We did not realize that ice fishing was on the agenda...  Our "hotel" accommodations included a natural cooling system. |  Lance catches the first fish  One casts much better when one's tongue is out. |
Sawtooth Lake at sunrise.....
 ...looks like fire..... |  ...and ice! |
Sawtooth Lake, top view. Look at that classic glacier-carved valley in the upper middle of the photo.
 |  |
Yep, I was there!
Michael scouts out a path down into the drainage.
Bushwhacking down the ridge
 Victory!  Miles, the goat, carries Michelle's backpack across the river |  Hiking sticks are a must!  Mikayla is game! |
Lance and Joe leading the pack
 The castle  The bottle of bubbly that traveled up and over the mountain |  The prince and princess  |
  |   |
McGowan Peak
Manhattan Cafe
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