Trail Log: 7-26-2022

 

• Trail: Fish Lake – Horse Lake – Cabin
• Miles:12.4
• Riders: Self – Patti – Marc – Lee
• Horses: Jack – Nellie Rose – Aly/Lou Ellen – King
• Dogs: Hank

Notes: The third and final day of the Fish Lake basecamp adventure. I was in no hurry to head back to the valley. My sister wasn't expected to be in until late afternoon. Not only is she not a morning person, but she was driving in from Meridian Idaho. I would have plenty of time for one more ride.

The group settled on Horse Lake. We picked up Horse Lake Trail 1873 North of camp and followed it along a ridgeline heading South East. A steady wind whistled and howled through the tops of blackened, towering pine snags as if they mourned the loss of life and lush green needles; the result of devastating forest fire.

I pulled Jack up and called to Lee: “Do you hear that?” Lee answered: “I do...wolves.” I'm not likely to question Lee about anything that has to do with the mountains or nature in general. The man has spent more time hiking, hunting, packing and riding in the wilderness than anyone I know. Still, it didn't sound like wolves from my experience. The howl of a wolf is something you don't question from the moment you hear it. Even if you've never heard it before...you know. Rattlers are the same. There are a plethora of bugs and plants rustling in the breeze that might startle a person that's never been buzzed by a pissed off diamond back. It's a sound indisputable and one you will not forget.

Wolves are the same. Years ago, I was packed into the White Clouds with members of the Backcounty Horseman of Idaho. One night I was jolted awake by a wolf howling close to camp. I shot out of bed and stood in the middle of camp with two others that heard it also. A few seconds later another wolf joined the symphony...and then another. Standing in the middle of camp at night in your underwear listening to the most beautifully eerie sound imaginable is awe-inspiring. Staying up the remainder of the night to keep watch over your stock is exhausting.

This was not the same sound to me. Perhaps it's because these wolves, if it were wolves, are much farther away? “Are you sure it's wolves? I think it's wind in the snags.” Lee is also one that's not going to argue with you. He'll tell you once and only once. What you do with that knowledge is up to you. “Yes...I'm sure. It's wolves.” Ok then. More to myself than anyone within ear-shot: “I'll just ride along here and go with it being wind in the trees.” Still...I kept a closer eye on Hank the rest of the ride.

Six miles in, we dropped off the ridge into a series of small meadows. A rustic cabin nearly hidden from view by the casual wanderer lay nestled in a clearing. Horse Lake served as the cabins exclusive front porch view. Horse lake is more of a bog than a lake this time of the year. Instead of being filled with water...the lake is filled with tiny little frogs. Zillions of them. I like frogs. I like one or two frogs. I'm not a fan of zillions of them all in one place. As far as I'm concerned it could have been the location for the 1972 George McCowan horror flick “FROGS.” Today the pond...tomorrow the WORLD!

I liked this cabin even better than the cabin at Clear Creek. While more rustic and remote, the cabin is still well maintained and stocked with waterver a person might need to survive in an emergency. It had everything including a barn for horses and tack...the loft stocked with several bales of old hay. I tried the hand pump outside the front porch. My efforts were not productive. Perhaps I will come back some day and see if I can get it primed and going! I imagine it's used as a cow camp...a snowmobile stop or likely both. I see no reason why it can't be used as my summer hideout; frogs or no frogs.

We ate lunch at the cabin before heading back to camp via Lake Fork Trail. Again...the trail is littered with downfall and bogs. Fortunately, Marc and Patti had negotiated this same trail earlier in the week and Lee...he's pretty much a walking compass. Between the three of them, we found ourselves back at camp safe, sound and frog free. I know. I checked. Not taking any chances for a sequel!

That afternoon, I packed up camp, said goodbye to my camp hosts and headed off the mountain back to civilization.