Soggy

Quite unusual for summertime in Idaho, the last three days have been dominated by hard soaking rains.  That soaking includes us and all our gear, and has left us feeling rather soggy, and scrambling to keep the important things dry (sleeping bags and camera gear, mainly).

After spending all week searching for the elusive wolves of the Chamberlain valley, with no more luck than a few howls in the night, and one brief sighting in Moose Jaw Meadow, we took a last-ditch reconnaissance hike up to Fish and Sheepeater Lakes, high above the Chamberlain Valley.  While up there, we decided to keep on going to Sheepeater Lookout, where I had spent my summer as the lookout last year, to say hi to the current resident, Jim.

We were soaked from head to toe from the long hike up, and Jim invited us inside where we spent a warm hour by the woodstove sharing stories, lunch, and favorite books.  Drenched again on the way down, and no closer to finding anything wolf, we decided to prepare for hiking out the next day.  It was time to move on, as we felt we’d shot enough salmon spawning to do an entire documentary on them alone, and the wolves were more likely vacationing in Hawaii by now.  

When we reached camp, we packed the “fly out” gear and hiked down to Chamberlain airstrip one more time, returning back to camp again after dark, thoroughly wiped from nearly 30 miles of hiking that day.  Hot curried lentil stew for dinner warmed our tummies, and then it was into the tent for a blissful sleep to the constant pattering of another night of hard rain.  

I am now writing in my journal, wrapped in my down sleeping bag and tucked in the tent at the next nights camp, trying to stay warm.  I braved sitting outside hoping for a glimpse of thin evening sunlight to warm me before succumbing to the chill and diving into the tent and my bag.  Isaac is walking around with the camera looking for an evening scenic.  I can’t quite believe that it is August, and something like 40 degrees outside.  

Today we hiked a little over halfway back to Big Creek.  We’re again on Mosquito Ridge, this time with blissfully few mosquitoes!  The morning was wet and soggy as usual, but the afternoon allowed us patchy glimpses of that burning planet we’d all but forgotten about.  Our socks, smelling and looking more like soggy, long-dead rodents, are now hanging to dry on our backpacks.  However, I fear that by morning they will be frozen, rather than dried.