Dec 26, 2012

The End of the World? Or just my Pride

Well, I’m glad the world didn’t end on the 21st. The Mayans got it wrong. But I did have an interesting “Most Embarrassing Moment” experience.

Early in the morning Nancy was blow-drying her hair and tripped a circuit breaker. I was still in bed and as she walked by she said, “Can you help me, the power is out in the bathroom.”

I got up and walked out to the garage and Nancy was flipping breakers. I thought she was just randomly throwing breakers so I told her to stop and let me fix it. It’s a man’s job after all—isn’t it?

I couldn’t see any blown circuits so I thought she might have already fixed it. I went back into the house and into our bathroom and the power was still off. Strange. Back to the circuit board and checked more carefully—still nothing. Back to the bedroom and bathroom to check the ground fault interrupt outlets—nothing. Strange! I kept checking the breakers and nothing worked. The power was out in our bathroom, bedroom, the guest bedroom, the front room, and the den in the basement. Very strange! I couldn’t believe all those rooms were on the same circuit, and WHY were there no thrown breakers? It didn’t make any sense!

The next day all the kids were coming home for Christmas and the power was out to half the house. I did everything I could think of and nothing worked. Finally I gave up and shaved and dressed in the dark and went to work.

Fortunately my council president (and therefor my boss) runs Wheeler Electric, an electrical contracting business. After I had got past the morning rush of emails, phone messages, mail, and other office minutia, I called Jeff and explained my problem. He told me he would send one of his electricians right over. I drove home and took the cover panel off the circuit box while I waited for the electrician.

A Wheeler Electric truck pulled up in front of our house and two guys got out. First I showed them the circuit box then I took them into the bathroom and bedrooms and showed them the problem. They used a gizmo to check the outlets. Some were working and some weren’t. One guy said, “It looks like you might have lost your neutral line.” They went to their truck and got another gizmo then went back to the circuit box and started checking the voltage in each line. The guy pointed to about six double breakers and asked, “Did you turn these off?” I then had one of those awkward “I’m an idiot” moments.

I flipped all six breakers from ‘off’ to ‘on’ and guess what? All the lights came back on! The electricians were very polite—at least until they got back into their truck. I called and thanked Jeff and admitted to being an idiot. He laughed and said, “It didn’t sound like it was anything too bad.”

In my defense, the double circuits were all aligned in the same positions so I assumed . . .
You know the old saying about assuming? It’s true! When the circuits were in the off position I couldn’t see the words ‘off’ because they were covered by the switches and when the circuit box cover was on it blocked the words ‘on’ so it was a bit confusing.

It makes me wonder if the Mayans were predicting the end of my dignity.

Dec 11, 2012

Over the Mountains and Through the Snow

We are excited about the arrival of grandchild number six: Jovie Juliette Farrer, Dan’s and Sarah’s third child. Jovie was born on December 2nd and we were anxious to see her. Very early on the morning of the 8th we left Idaho Falls and drove to Casper, Wyoming.


Because the weathermen were predicting a winter storm we decided to take the interstate route rather than the back roads. It started snowing and blowing south of Pocatello as the storm chased us into Wyoming. Fortunately the snow wasn’t sticking to the roads until the sun came up and we hit Interstate 80 near Green River. As we approached the town the highway was snow packed and very slick and the traffic came to a standstill. I exited the highway and drove through town on surface roads and then got back on the interstate east of town and thereby missed the traffic jam and saved at least an hour. The road conditions were poor between Green River and Rock Springs but they got progressively better the further east we drove. We were driving Nancy’s new Honda CRV and even tough it is an all-wheel drive it is light and doesn’t hold the road very well on snow and ice. We went slipping and sliding down the highway for about an hour and it made things very tense for both of us.

We left the Interstate at Rawlings. The gas was at a quarter tank so I was looking for a gas station. I skipped the few stations right by the exit because they are always more expensive. When we got into the downtown area there were no stations but I figured there had to be some as we left town—I was wrong. I had underestimated the size of Rawlings. Rather than turning around I decided to press on. Just east of town there is a sign that reads, “Casper 119 miles.” The car’s dashboard computer told me I had 118 miles of gas left. Challenge accepted!

The storm hit us again not long after we left Rawlings with high winds and snow blowing so hard that at times visibility was almost zero. It was a regular ground blizzard. Every time I drive across the high plains of Wyoming I think of the pioneers and how miserable it must have been to walk, drive a wagon, or push a handcart across that forbidding and desolate land. I ponder on that struggle, say a prayer of thanks, and turn up the heat.

As I was fighting the wind I was watching the gas gage dip towards empty and decided I really should have filled up in Rawlings. We came to a wide spot in the road with the picturesque name of Muddy Gap and there was a gas station so pulled in. We ended up paying a dollar more per gallon than we would have if I had gone back into Rawlings. But at least we had enough gas to get to Casper without having to worry about running out in the middle of nowhere.

We arrived in Casper without further incident and drove to Sarah’s parents’ house. By an odd twist of irony Sarah’s father’s name is Clark Jensen. I’m not sure if it is easier or more confusing for their kids to have both grandfathers named Clark. Wyatt and Bella greeted us with wonderful enthusiasm and we could tell they missed us. Jovie was awake and looking around in wide-eyed wonder. I’m sure every grandparent thinks their grandchildren are beautiful but there is something extra striking about Jovie. Perhaps it’s the newness of life fresh from heaven.


We played with the kids and visited with Dan and Sarah for a couple of hours then took the kids and Dan to the mall to shop for birthday presents for Dan and to give Sarah a break. We took Nancy and Bella back to Jensen’s then went to check into our hotel. On the way Dan showed me his new office. Dan and Clark were in the ward choir singing ‘For Unto Us’ at the church Christmas program so we all went to watch that and then we went to dinner at the Olive Garden. The food was great but it took almost an hour to get served. It wouldn’t have been a big problem except we were in a hurry to let the kids swim in the hotel pool before it closed at ten. Wyatt and Bella love to swim and Dan and I had fun playing with them.

The next day was Sunday and we had planned on going to church at 2:00 and then driving home. It took us over eight hours to get to Casper and I realized if we left that late then most of the drive would be in the dark. As bad as the roads were I was worried about driving on icy roads in the dark. So we spent the morning at the Jansen’s and then started our drive back to Idaho around noon.

Because I knew that I-80 was horrible I decided to return by a different route. Due to the mountain ranges there is no direct route from Casper to Idaho Falls. We ended up taking the South Pass route made famous by Jedediah Smith and the mountain men. The roads were snow packed up in the passes but for the most part the roads were clear and the drive was much less stressful than the day before.

As I was cruising north on Highway 191 in the middle of nowhere I passed a state trooper going south. I looked at my speedometer and I was doing about 75mph in a 65 zone. Of course he flipped around and came up behind me. He followed me for a long time as I continued to slow down waiting for him to pull me over. He took his sweet time about it and I was wondering what he was waiting for. I’m guessing he was running the license plates or something. Finally his lights came on and we pulled to the side of the road.

Long story short, he clocked me doing 74 but he was merciful and let me off with a warning. He was very nice about it and as he let me go he told me to slow down and watch the speed limits and I told him I would—and I did. And I’m glad I did because not five miles later I passed another trooper. It made we wonder if they were working together. Here is a copy of an email I sent to the Wyoming Highway Patrol’s customer service (ironic name) email box.

From: Clarke Farrer [mailto:cfarrer@grandtetoncouncil.org]
Sent: Tuesday, December 11, 2012 3:49 PM
To: 'whp.customer.comments@wyo.gov'
Subject: Trooper Moller

A few days ago I had the opportunity to “meet” Trooper Moller, badge #85. I was driving too fast and he brought it to my attention.

Trooper Moller was courteous, polite, and professional in has manner and conversation. He looked sharp in his uniform and projected a confident and professional image.

My opinion of Trooper Moller, and the Wyoming Highway Patrol, was augmented by his decision to give me a warning rather than a citation. In fact, I did as he suggested and obeyed the speed limits for the remainder of my drive across your beautiful state.

I just thought you should know that Trooper Moller represented the Wyoming Highway Patrol very well. I came away from our encounter with the impression that you care more about public safety than fines from traffic violations.

Best regards,

Clarke Farrer

From Pinedale and on through the Bridger Teton National Forest the roads were snow packed again. The scenery was fantastic with snow-covered mountains kissed by alpen glow on the peaks. We got to Hoback Junction at dusk and the roads cleared and it was an easy drive past Palisades Reservoir, though Swan Valley, and back into Idaho Falls.

It was a long drive for a short visit but it was well worth it. It was great to spend time with our kids and grandkids but seeing sweet Jovie was a special treat.


Jun 11, 2012

Much Ado About Nothing

I'm pleased to report that things went very well at the ElkFest. There were about two dozen protestors there but for the most part they kept to themselves. At the start of the auction the protesters were wondering around the Square and passing out flyers. I took all the flyers that were offered to me and none of them had graphic images or were offensive. At about 10:30 they gathered at the northwest corner of the Square and they started their protest.
One by one they stood up on the base of the antler arch and they read aloud from the Bible. Some of them read mild passages in a normal voice. And some of them read hellfire and damnation verses in a loud voice. The Square was crowded but most people ignored the protesters. Except for the Mets fan.

One guy showed up in a Mets jersey and was holding a cardboard sign that said, “Let’s Go Mets!” Every time the protestors got loud he started to yell, “Let’s Go Mets! Let’s Go Mets!” And the locals would yell with him, “Let’s Go Mets!” The Mets fans were louder than the preachers and the effect was rather amusing.

I spent most of the morning talking to individual protestors to try to understand them and their motivations better. It was obvious to me that someone had made the decision to not disrupt or disrespect the Boy Scout’s antler auction. As they were wrapping things up I went to their leaders and thanked them for being respectful. They appreciated my comments so much that they called all their members over and had me repeat my comments to the entire group.

The leaders told me that they never intended to use their graphic images, flyers, and aggressive tactics in Jackson. They said they love the Boy Scouts and thanked me for the BSA’s decision to maintain its membership standards. (They said some unkind things about homosexuals.) They told me the only reason they got so aggressive last year was because they were told they could not protest and they felt like they had to make a point and exercise their constitutional rights.

So, everything turned out fine. The Elk Antler Auction went well, the weather was fantastic, and the protestors had a minimal impact on the ElkFest.

Apr 27, 2012

Elk, Antlers, and Protesters


For forty-five years now the Scouts and Scouters in the Jackson District (Jackson Hole, Wyoming) have been collecting elk antlers on the National Elk Refuge and selling them at an auction in town to raise money to fund Scouting programs. Doesn’t that sound like a win-win?


Who wins? Well, first the elk win. Long before the mountain men “discovered” Jackson Hole generations of elk spent their summers in the surrounding mountains and wintered in the valleys. One-hundred years ago, during a particularly harsh winter, the ranchers who settled this beautiful land took pity on the starving elk and started feeding them. The elk thought that was a good deal and they have been kind enough to return every winter since and, in exchange for food, allow tourists to ride around their feeding winter grounds on sleds and take their pictures.



Elk keep their antlers until early spring. They use them to dig through the snow and get to the grass below. Bull elk also use their sexy antlers to impress the ladies and to prove their manhood to other bulls that might try to do the same. The antlers can also make shish kabob out of any one or thing that gets too close for comfort. In the spring their antlers naturally shed—usually on the Elk Refuge where the elk have spent the winter impressing each other. Full grown elk antlers are pretty impressive. They can get as long as four feet and weigh over ten pounds each.


Usually by mid-March the elk have dropped their antlers and headed back into the hills and mountains for the summer. That’s when the Scouts move into action. In a forty-five year partnership with the National Elk Refuge the Scouts spread throughout the refuge picking up the antlers the elk left behind. The antlers are gathered, sorted, bundled, and held for auction. The Scouters organize and conduct the auction each year. Eighty percent of the proceeds go back to the Elk Refuge to help cover the expenses of feeding and protecting the elk during the winter months. The other twenty percent is kept by the Scouts to fund Scouting programs. It’s a fun and unique way to raise money to support Scouting and the Elk Refuge.



Over the years the Scouters of the Jackson District have organized an event around the Antler Auction. ElkFest is their name for the occasion and it includes the Antler Auction and an expo with booths in Jackson’s downtown Antler Square. The booths are manned by local Cub Scouts, Scouts, and other agencies such as WY Fish & Game, US Forest Service, and the National Park Service. Three street blocks north and east of the Square are blocked off and that’s where the auction is conducted and the antlers are displayed and staged for auction. ElkFest has grown to become a major event in Jackson and it now kicks off Jackson’s Old West Days which is their annual community celebration and the opening of the tourist season.


Here is a link to a video about ElkFest: http://vimeo.com/40758092


This all sounds very classic home-town Americana—and it is. But here is where the plot thickens.

A radical religious group, Operation Save America (OSA) has decided that ElkFest would be a good venue to stage a protest. And what are they protesting? Scouting’s membership policis? Animal abuse? The sale of animal parts; antlers, fur, and skulls? The government’s environmental policies? Festivals for kids and families? The answer is none of the above.

They are protesting abortion. OSA has decided that Jackson is the most godless city in the country and they need to be called to repentance—-during ElkFest. What does this have to do with Scouting or the ElkFest? Nothing—they are just using our venue as an opportunity to preach their gospel of hate. Don’t get me wrong, I support their antiabortion position and their right to freedom of speech. It is their inappropriate choice of venue, crowd, and the methods they use that I object to. They use very graphic images and in-your-face preaching to shock and offend people into action. Too often the action is violent.

A little more background. Last year OSA announced their intent to protest at ElkFest. The Jackson City Council considered their request and voted to not grant them a permit because their cause had nothing to do with the kids and family theme of the event. OSA said they didn’t care and would protest anyway. They were told if they did they would be arrested. The City got a protective order from a judge directing OSA to stay at least two blocks away from ElkFest. They ignored the order and protested at ElkFest anyway. Two of them were arrested. The group has spent the past year defending their cause in court and recently the Wyoming Supreme Court ruled against Jackson and said, in a three to two decision, that OSA has the right to protest anywhere and any how they want to on public property. God bless America!

I’m glad we live in a free country that protects the right of all people to express their opinions and beliefs. But I fail to find in the bible where aggression and hatred are justified. It seems to me those are the methods that the Pharisees and Sadducees employed and Jesus used his harshest condemnations for them and their intolerance.

So this year it looks like the voice of the auctioneer and the antlers will have to compete with OSA protestors on all four corners of the Antler Square with bullhorns and graphic posters of aborted babies. How do you explain that to a seven-year-old Tiger Cub Scout?

I'll let you know how it goes.

Apr 25, 2012

Have Canoes Will Paddle (Warning: This is a long one!)


A few years ago I was invited by Dan Deakin, the camp director at Island Park Scout Camp, IPSC, to tag along with him and his high adventure trek staff on a canoe trip into Shoshone Lake in Yellowstone National Park. (You can read about that trip in my June 22, 2009, post titled “A Fine and Pleasant Misery”) Little did I know then that that trip was setting me up for an even bigger experience two years later.

Mid June Brian Porter, our new director of field service, came into my office and asked what I was doing during the middle of July. He told me we have two Shoshone Lake treks scheduled but no guide to lead the treks. Chris, our former guide, is working construction in Montana this summer, his trained replacement, Nathan, is on a mission for the LDS Church, and the guy we hired to lead the treks this summer just quit. That leaves us with three options: cancel the treks and refund the money, send Dan Deakin as the guide (Dan is now the director of Salmon High Adventure Base and needs to be there), or I lead the treks. Well, someone has to do it, and I was the only available person on the staff who had been into Shoshone Lake. And I like to canoe.

The first thing I had to do was get certified as a Yellowstone National Park guide. This included watching some training videos, reading a bunch of NPS material on backcountry rules and regulations, and getting current certifications in CPR, AED, and First Aid.

Then I made contact with the leaders of the two units that had registered for the treks. I found out they had received no information on what to expect and what to bring on the treks. So I found copies of the previous materials and information we had used and, after a lot of editing and updating, I emailed the information to the leaders. We exchanged several emails and phone calls right up to the departure date of each trek.

The first crew was composed of older Scouts from Troop 197 in Holladay, Utah. They had six Scouts and two leaders registered to go. The NPS restricts backcountry campsites to eight people. That left me the odd-man-out. I called the YNP Backcountry Ranger Station to ask if an exception could be made and was told there are no exceptions. Paddling a one man canoe fifty miles and camping alone in bear country didn’t sound like much fun. I talked to my son Clarke and he readily agreed to come with me—if his son was born on time.

His wife’s due date was July 9th and the trek started on July 11th. He obviously could not go on the trek if the baby had not been born. As it turned out our fourth grandchild and third grandson was born on July 6th and that great timing made it possible for Clarke to join me on the trek. My plan was to have Clarke as an assistant guide on the first trek and then lead the second trek. As it turned out Clarke accepted a job offer and started working right after the first trek.

I drove up to Island Park Scout Camp (IPSC) to check out the equipment and get things ready for the treks. I picked up all the high adventure food (purchased from Philmont) so it could be inventoried. I found there were several pieces of essential equipment missing that were required by the NPS. I also found out the canoe trailer was in need of several repairs. The welds had been broken in places, half the tie down straps were broken, and the lights on the trailer didn’t work. All this needed to be corrected before I could bring the trailer into the Park. And I was quickly running out of time.

I unloaded all the canoes and took the trailer and all the food back with me to Idaho Falls. Nancy inventoried all the food for me so I knew what I needed to purchase to complete the menus for the treks. I took the trailer to Mark Jennings in Ririe who did an expert job of repairing it. While he welded I fixed the lights by replacing the plug and splicing several wires. Now we had a functioning trailer that was street legal.

I drove back to IPSC to complete my preparations and sort out all the gear. I drove from IPSC, through West Yellowstone, all the way through the Park, and down to the Backcountry Ranger Station at Grant Village. I met with the ranger and got the backcountry permits, boat tags, and NPS fishing permits. From Grant Village I drove down to Lewis Lake to check things out there. There was still snow on the ground and the parking lot was one giant puddle. I wanted to visit with the ranger at the Lewis Lake Ranger Station but, oddly enough, some nut job had broken into the ranger station and is was closed for repairs. Who would break into a ranger station in a National Park? And what would they expect to gain? It’s a strange world.

There had been an unusually large amount of snowfall during the winter and spring was slow to arrive this year. All the lakes and rivers were full and the fact that there was still snow on the ground at Lewis Lake concerned me. Lewis Lake is at 7,779 feet above sea level and Shoshone Lake is at 7,800. The rangers were telling me the Lewis River channel was running a couple of feet higher than normal and the water was still very cold. After my last trip I knew the possibility of hypothermia after wading the channel was very real and we needed to be prepared.

As I drove back to Idaho Falls I called the scoutmaster of Troop 197 and emphasized the need for warm clothes, raingear, and chest waders if any of the adults had them. As it turned out none of the members of the first group were fishermen and no one brought waders. This proved to be a problem, but more about that later.

I returned to Idaho Falls to complete my preparations for the treks. I went to Sam’s Club to purchase the extra food I needed to round out the menus. The Philmont meals were pretty good but I wanted to add fresh fruit, trail mix, juice, and some bakery items for the first few meals. In order to save money I bought granola, raisins, nuts, dried fruit, and M&Ms so I could mix my own batch of gorp. I made enough for twenty-six people and divided it up into one-gallon zip-lock bags so each person could have their own stash of gorp to snack on any time they wanted to. I also purchased a variety of quick snacks and candy bars to make up a snack bag for each person to supplement the meals. I knew we were going to be paddling fifty miles and burning lots of calories and I didn’t want anyone to go hungry.

Sunday evening Clarke and I drove back up to IPSC and met the members and leaders of the troop who would be going on the trek with us. The two leaders were fathers of two of the Scouts going on the trek and there were four additional Scouts. Our first impressions were positive and we left them looking forward to the coming week and high adventure together. We put the final touches on the equipment, gear, food, and supplies for the trek and slept in the warehouse where we had set out all the gear and food for the treks.

Monday morning the crew came to the warehouse and we started the orientation and training. At 10:00 we walked over to the COPE course and spent the rest of the morning thirty feet in the air on all the various High COPE elements. All the guys, including Clarke and the two dads, had a chance to do as many of the elements as they wanted to. We went back to the warehouse for lunch and more training. At 1:00 we went over to the waterfront to take swim checks. All of them were good swimmers but swimming in a cold mountain lake is much more difficult and exhausting than swimming in a heated pool or warm lake. Fortunately everyone easily passed.

Our next experience was canoe practice. Clarke and I led them through some paddling instruction and practice on the shore of the lake. Then we had them pair up and carry a canoe into the water. We had them practice paddling and various strokes and then we lined up for a race. We told them to paddle about 100-yards out to a buoy in the middle of the lake, pass it on the left, then paddle back to the starting point in a cove near the lookout tower. The race was pretty even until we approached the buoy and then the collisions and mayhem started. I was in the stern and we had a slight lead coming into the turn. We went right up against the buoy and then we did a hard right pivot turn and then paddled hard. The quick maneuver left all the other canoes in our wake and we won the race with a significant lead.

Once the rest of the canoes came back to the cove where we started we practiced swamping and open water rescues. We had all the canoes pair up and take turns swamping and being rescued until each canoe pair had performed the maneuvers. It’s a lot harder than it looks and the cold water makes it that much more challenging. It also gave me the opportunity to stress two things to the group; one, don’t swamp, and two, if someone does swamp get them out of the frigid water as soon as possible. The water temperature of Lewis and Shoshone Lakes is much colder than the camp lake and people in it will not last long before hypothermia sets in.

We did one more race to warm everyone up after the swamping exercise. This time it was a triangle course and everyone handled their canoes much better. Clarke and I still won the race but we had good competition and didn’t win by much. The two canoes with just Scouts in them were struggling to maintain control and that concerned me. We would be paddling fifty miles in the next four days and everyone needed to be able keep up with the group. More critical were the parts of the trek on moving water. Good control and maneuverability there would be critical.

After our work at the lake was finished we loaded the canoes onto the trailer and got it ready for the trip. Then we went back to the warehouse for some more instructions and preparations for the trek. We covered low impact camping, backcountry policies and restrictions, reviewed the gear list, and emphasized why each item was important. We issued a dry bag to each participant, had each team pick out their food and snacks, and loaned cooking gear, water bottles, and water filters to those teams who needed them. They had dinner in their campsite with the other members of their troop and then after dinner they came back to the warehouse for more training and to watch the Beyond Road’s End video produced by the YNP backcountry rangers. With that we were ready for our big adventure.

Afternoon or evening thunderstorms are typical to mountain country. That night a larger than normal thunder storm came through and it rained hard on the camp. I knew we would be dealing with wet gear in the morning. Because of the rain we got a later start than I was hoping for. After a quick breakfast of bagels and cream cheese we loaded into two trucks and headed out for Yellowstone National Park. I towed the canoe trailer and lead the way through West Yellowstone, MT, past the Old Faithful area, and down to Grant Village where we checked in at the Backcountry Ranger’s office. Then we drove on down to the Lewis Lake boat ramp and unloaded the canoes and stowed our dry bags into the canoes. After parking the vehicles behind the ranger station we were ready to head out.

It was a cloudy morning but there was no wind (yet). We paddled west from the dock directly to the western shore of Lewis Lake and then followed the shoreline north. We stopped for a rest at the thermal area about midway up the lake. After checking out the hot springs we paddled up to the outlet of the Lewis River and started upstream. By this time the clouds had started lowering, the wind was picking up, and a light rain was starting to fall. By the time we were halfway up the river, where the river makes a sharp zig-zag west and then north, the storm was upon us and we pulled to shore to seek shelter and eat lunch. We tied one of our rainflys up in a small grove of pines and ate our trail lunch while the storm passed over. All of us had put on our raingear but I noticed one Scout shivering in a t-shirt and pair of shorts. I said, “hey, you’re shivering! Why don’t you put on your raingear and warm up?” He admitted he couldn’t find it in his bag and thought he must have left it back at camp. Lucky for him some of his buddies were better prepared and they loaned him a rain jacket and some sweat pants.


There was some thunder in the area but we didn’t see any lightning so after the storm had passed we started up the river again. Two thirds of the river is easy paddling but the upper third is where it gets interesting. The current gradually increases until you have to paddle hard and use all your maneuvering skills. Finally you get to a point where, paddle as hard as you can, you can make no further progress. That’s when it’s time to get out and start wading.

While we waited for the whole group to fight their way up the rapids I put on my chest waders and Clarke put on my old full-body wetsuit. Mason, one of the Scouts, volunteered to put on my old Hodgman rubber waders. I warned him that they leak but he said he was up for the challenge. We had five canoes and three waders so we split the group. I had Dave Knecht stay back with his son Brett, plus Chris and Ben to wait for Clarke and I to return for their canoes. Terry and his son Jonathan, with Bryce took their gear on their backs and followed the trail to the campsite.


Wading up the river was still difficult but the thermal protection we were wearing made it arduous rather than grueling. The water was much higher and colder than the last time I had made the trek—and that about killed me! Mason, a strapping athletic kid, was a good sport but he had to keep stopping to empty water out of the waders. After about a half-hour while we were waiting for Mason I saw Terry hiking back down the trial alone. He was upset and said the trial was horrible and didn’t lead to a campsite. I figured he had not gone far enough because the trail passed through the campsite and ended at the lakeshore. I asked him to return to the boys and continue following the trail until he found the lake. He was obviously aggravated but agreed to return. I could tell that Mason was having a difficult time with the leaky waders and the cold swift water so I told him to take the waders off and go with Terry. I tied his canoe behind the one I was pulling and Clarke and I continued up the river.

As long as we could keep to the shore the wade wasn’t too bad—about knee deep. But about every hundred feet or so there are fallen trees out in the water. You can step over the smaller and submerged ones but you have to wade around the big ones. As you move out into the deeper water the current gets stronger and you have more of your body fighting the water and it gets exhausting. At one point I stepped into what I thought was waist deep water and plunged into a hole over my chest. If I had not been holding onto the side of the canoe at the time the water might have gone over my head. As it was I took water over the top of my waders but I was able to pull myself up and out quickly. I was wet but at least I was not swimming.

Near the top of the wade Clarke started to become exhausted. The combination of cold water and fighting the current is extremely tiring. There were several places where we were wading in water up to our chests and waist deep water was not uncommon. Towards the top of the river it gets much easier because the banks are mostly clear of deadfall and you can wade in shallow water out of the current. I pulled the two canoes up to the point where it is possible to paddle again and beached them. I waded back down to Clarke and helped him pull his canoe the rest of the way up to the lake. Just as we were approaching, Terry came down the lakeshore and met us. The three of us paddled the canoes to the beach in front of the campsite.

Terry was still upset and told me the trail was horrible and they had to cross several deadfall trees and wade a stream to get to the Outlet campsite. I was just glad they had made it to the campsite and was in a hurry to get back to Dave and the other Scouts waiting downstream. Terry wanted to load the canoes and leave. I told him that was not possible. I asked him to supervise setting up the camp and getting dinner started and clothing dried out. He asked me, “Where are you going?” I told him I was going back for Dave and the other Scouts. He said, “You can’t wade that river again!” and I told him there was no choice. Clarke was obviously worn out so I had him stay in camp and asked him to try and cheer up the group and help them set up their campsite. I figured everyone would feel a lot better after a rest and a hot meal.

I grabbed a bottle of water, my bag of gorp, and headed down the trial to get the rest of the crew. After I had gone about a quarter of a mile I started feeling very alone and vulnerable and wished I had thought to take the bear spray from Terry before I left. I moved fast and sang loud to let any bears know what was on the menu. Terry was right, the trail was pretty bad. We were probably the first group in and after a hard winter the trial was in bad shape for the first half-mile or so. Three were several trees that had fallen over the trail that I had to climb over or around and at one point the trail crossed a creek that was knee deep. I had my waders on so it was no problem but I could see why Terry was not happy about the trail. Once the trail got back towards the river it improved significantly and sooner than I expected I was back to Dave and the others.

They had set up their tents to stay out of the rain but mostly to stay out of the mosquitoes. As it was getting towards evening the mosquitoes were coming out and they were hungry. They hadn’t been too bad during the day but now they were very numerous and persistent.

I had them repack their gear and carry as much as they could on their backs in the dry bags. I tied the two canoes together and started back up the river. I was tired but not exhausted. The good news was I knew the trial, where to step, and what to avoid so I figured it would be a little easier the second time. About half way up I stepped onto a submerged log and as I shifted my weight onto the log my foot slipped off and the shin of my waders caught on a broken limb and tore a big gash in my waders just above the transition from rubber boot to neoprene. My right boot immediately filled up with freezing water. This added a new and tortuous twist to the experience.

When I was wading in shallow water the trapped water would pour out of the hole so only my foot and ankle were cold and wet, but when I entered deeper water the whole leg of the waders would fill up with water. In a wetsuit the water gets trapped and your body heat warms up the water and it acts as an insulator. In my newly created wetsuit the cold water was constantly being recirculated. It got even more interesting when I got into water over my waist—then I could feel the water come up my right thigh, flood over past my crotch, and start filling up the left leg of the waders. This was both good and bad. Good because, like a wetsuit, after a while the water in my left leg was comparatively warm. Bad because the initial flood of cold water past a very sensitive region was breathtaking—in a bad way. And worse, there was no escape for the water on the left side so pretty soon I was schlepping twenty pounds of water on one side and a freezing stream of water on the other. I was already tired but this was just ridiculous.

Fortunately I was close to the upper part of the wade where the going got easier. One I knew I was past all the deep water I sat down, pulled my waders down below my waist, and lifted my legs to let all the water drain out. This move allowed me to get most of the trapped water out of the waders and into the previously dry clothes on my upper body. So now I was cold and wet all over, not just my lower body. I either had to laugh or cry, so I laughed.

Clarke met me at the takeout point and we paddled the two canoes to the beach where the other canoes were. We got the rest of the gear out and up to the campsite. Campsite 8S1 Outlet is just northeast of the outlet of Shoshone Lake. Since the water was so high the beach area and trail to the campsite was flooded. We found another trail past the backcountry rangers’ cabin where we could go to and from the canoes without having to wade. The flooded area also provided ideal mosquito habitat and the little pests were out in abundance. Everyone had mosquito spray but the bloodsuckers were so numerous and persistent that normal spray wasn’t very effective. I had a bottle of 100% DEET that worked very well at keeping me from getting sucked dry. Even then the bugs were so think you couldn’t help but inhale one or two from the swarm that was constantly around you. I could understand how animals go crazy because of mosquitoes and I wondered how the Indians, mountain men, and pioneers handled it in the early days.

Once we had the crew campsite set up and they were settled in on cooking, eating, and avoiding mosquitoes (most of the boys had fled to their tents) Clarke and I got into our canoe and paddled across the outlet to campsite 8Q9 Channel to set up our own camp. This campsite is in a better location but not nearly as large or open as Outlet. There was still light rain off and on so we put up the rain fly and hung our wet clothes under it so they could start dying out. The mosquitoes were not as bad here, but they were still plentiful and aggressive. The worst part was visiting the latrine due to the necessity of exposing a fair amount of bare skin in order to take care of business. You need at least four hands to complete the job without getting mosquito bites in places where it would be very inconvenient (not to mention rude) to scratch them.

Outlet campsite has an outhouse that offers privacy and some protection from mosquitoes, but the rest of the campsites have only a squat box and a view. Whoever located the latrine at Channel campsite had a sadistic sense of humor and you better not wait too long when you need to go. The trail to the latrine is a very steep fifty yard climb. Once on top there is a great view but if anyone passes by in a canoe and looks up at the wrong time they might see an unexpected full moon. It would be a nice place to sit and enjoy the view but the mosquitoes were so bad there was no time to lose unless you wanted to lose a lot of blood as well. Clarke was smarter than me. Before the trek I had loaned him my mosquito netting and he took that up with him and once he was settled in he covered himself with the netting and he outsmarted most of the angry hoard.


Clarke and I pitched his tent, cooked dinner, cleaned up, hung up the bear bags, and then climbed into our bags and went to sleep. It had been a long day and we were exhausted. During the night I gained a new respect for Bethany, my daughter-in-law. Clarke is at best a heavy breather and at times a good snorer. Our heads were just inches apart and I’m such a light sleeper didn’t sleep very well. Very early in the morning I heard strange noises outside and thought maybe we had a bear in camp. After lying awake for quite awhile I decided imagination was probably worse than reality so I climbed out of the tent and looked around.


It was a beautiful night, clear and cold with an almost full silver moon. I could see clearly without a flashlight. Upon investigation the noises I had been hearing were the waves on the lake lapping intermittently against the shore. I walked around the campsite enjoying the beauty and soaking up the moonlight. I took advantage of the clear weather and light breeze to hang out our wet clothes so they would dry. After awhile I crawled into the tent and went back to sleep.


The next morning after breakfast and breaking down camp we paddled back over to Outlet and linked up with the rest of the crew. They were just cleaning up as we arrived. Someone had made a mess with their breakfast and I had to remind them about low impact camping and why it is important that we don’t leave anything that might attract animals. We paddled west across the lake and along the southern shore to the Narrows. The day was calm and beautiful so we made an easy crossing. As a matter of principle I still had the group paddle hard so we could shorten our exposure to the dangers of the crossing. The crew was camping at 8R2 Bluff Top west of the Narrows. We paddled there, unloaded the canoes, set up camp, and ate lunch. In the afternoon, as normal, the wind started picking up so Clarke and I paddled on to 8R4 Flat Top to set up our camp. We left the others with a promise to return if the weather allowed.




The wind blew fairly steady throughout the afternoon. It made for a lot of waves on the lake but it also kept the mosquitoes under cover so we had some relief from their assaults. By early evening the wind had let up enough for us to paddle back to Bluff Top and join the crew for dinner. The trip went fairly well until we came along the side of the bluff and were broadside to the wind and waves and then things got a little scary. We had to relax and go with the flow and ride the waves. I could tell Clarke was spooked and we were both glad to pass the point and get out of the wind. We beached our canoe and hiked up to join the crew. They were surprised to see us but the lake looked worse than it actually was and their campsite looked right down on the worst water we had to cross.

As we were visiting with the crew in the kitchen area we saw another canoe approach from the west and stop at the beach and two NPS rangers got out. They hiked up the trail and came into the campsite and looked around. They said they had just come around the point just as Clarke and I were leaving Flat Top. They had inspected our campsite and told us we should have put our pots up the bear pole before we left. They would have had to open our bags to look inside to know what was in them and I had to wonder about the invasion of privacy but I know they were only interested in our safety and protecting bears. They stayed for about ten minutes looking around and asking questions. They checked out the crew’s permit and asked where my permit was. I told them it was still attached to our canoe. One ranger was quite talkative and friendly (I could tell he was LDS from some of the things he said) and the other was quiet and taciturn. I don’t think he even said hello and he stood back several feet behind his loquacious partner. When they left they stopped at our canoe and looked at our permit. They then stood there and talked for several minutes—long enough for me to wonder why. Then they got in their canoe and paddled east though the wind and waves.



We cooked and ate our dinners together, visited, and made plans for the next day. While we were there the wind died down and by the time we paddled back the lake was relatively calm. We went to bed soon after we got back to camp. I made sure to put my pots up the bear pole.


The next morning was clear and calm, which was good because we were in for a big day. After breakfast and packing up their camp the crew paddled to our campsite and we joined them for the trip to the western tip of the lake. The water was smooth and the day was beautiful. When we arrived at the end of the lake I had a hard time locating the trailhead to the Shoshone Geyser Basin. It had been two years since I had been there and I mistook the trailhead marker for the campsite marker. We did a little extra paddling around and got to see the large marsh area at the west end of the lake. At one point we passed a beaver lodge and a beaver swam directly beneath our canoe. It got so shallow in a few places that we had to get out and pull the canoes through the water lilly pads and cattails. I finally got my bearings and we found the beach and trail-head.



After stowing all our food and smellables in the bear boxes on the trail we hiked into the Geyser Basin. This is a highlight of the trip for several reasons. It’s a nice change of pace from sitting and paddling all day. (By this point my butt was so sore it needed a break.) It’s a nice hike through thermal features most people never get to see. There are no crowds or boardwalks like you see in the tourist areas of the Park so it is a much more natural experience. There are several fun and unique thermal features along the trail including several geysers and hot springs.


After the hike we paddled back to the campsites to pick up our gear. The wind picked up as we were paddling and the waves were starting to grow as we made our way back. Fortunately the prevailing wind blows from the southwest and we were traveling with the wind mainly to our backs. It got a little dicey when we had to round the points and we were paddling broadside to the wind and waves. Clarke and I stopped at Flat Top to drop our bear bags and load our gear while the rest to the crew paddled on to Bluff Top. We caught up to them at their campsite and had lunch together. Their next campsite was the 8S7 North Narrows campsite that we had passed yesterday morning when we crossed the narrows. Clarke and I stopped at our campsite, 8R1 Windy Bluff, and set up camp. We took our dinner supplies and food and paddled on to join the crew for dinner. After dinner we played some games on the beach and relaxed until it started getting dark. The mosquitoes were bad because the campsite was right on the water and several low spots around the campsite were underwater. As long as you kept moving it wasn’t too bad but you couldn’t sit still for very long before they were upon you. As the crew settled into their tents Clarke and I headed back to our campsite for the night.

We were up at 5:AM Friday morning to get an early start on the day and hopefully get off the lakes before the wind picked up. The morning had a strange feel to it and when I looked out over the lake I saw why. Fog had come in during the night and there was zero visibility on the lake. We loaded our canoe and paddled though the mist to join up with the crew. By the time they were ready to depart the fog had not lifted and if anything it was thicker and we couldn’t see the opposite shore of the Narrows. Clarke got out his compass and took a bearing straight south. After just a few minutes of paddling we could not see either shore and there were no landmarks to steer by. If we didn’t have a compass it would have been very easy to get disoriented and paddle in circles until the fog lifted. It was a very surreal experience. The fog didn’t start clearing until we reached the outlet and were ready to head down the river.

Before we entered the river I had the group raft up for some instructions. I was particularly concerned with the snag at the bend in the river that had caught two of our canoes on the last trek I was on. The river was flowing even higher this year and I wanted to be sure none of our canoes got caught in the sweepers. I had noticed on the wade up the river that several of the larger snags, including the one at the bend, had been cut off. I was pleased to see that the Park Service had put human safety over the natural state of the river. But even with the snag cut off the strength of the current and the flow of the river could easily carry a canoe into the stump of the snag if we were not very careful on that first big bend in the river.


Clarke and I led the way and most of the canoes followed us close to the inside curve of the bend, but one canoe got out into the main current and was heading straight for the snag. I had to yell loudly to get their attention and alert them to their danger. With some hard paddling and maneuvering they missed the snag by about a foot. We continued down the river at a brisk pace due to the high water. The nature of the river was quite different than I remembered due to the increased flow and it took a lot more whitewater skill to stay in the middle and avoid the many snags on the sides. Whenever I could I’d look back to see how the other canoes were getting along. There were a few other close calls with sweepers on the sharp curves but everyone came through the rapids upright and dry. With that the worst parts of the trip were over—I thought.


The rest of the float down the river was easy. It was a spectacularly beautiful morning. We had left the fog behind us on the big lake and the morning air was calm and clear. It was one of those stunning wilderness experiences that too few people in our modern world get to experience. We had passed two campsites on our way out that had people in them and they were the only people we had seen all week, but we were on our way back to civilization. For a few precious moments it felt like we were the only ones in the world in the middle of all that wild beauty.

When we reached Lewis Lake I asked Terry and Jonathon to take over as the lead canoe. I directed them to paddle straight east to the shore and then we would paddle in the protection of the shore down to the boat ramp on the southeast corner of the lake. The day was still clear with no wind so I felt it was safe to follow the eastern shore rather than the more protected western shore. I selected Terry and Jonathon because they were one of the slower canoes in out flotilla and I thought they would set a pace that the rest of us could easily follow. After several minutes the line of canoes started to spread out as everyone found their pace for the two mile crossing. Clarke and I were in the middle of the line and after awhile I noticed David and Brett had over taken the lead canoe and they were taking a southern heading straight for the dock—right down the middle of the lake. This would be a dangerous decision in windy conditions but there was just a light breeze and Clarke and I were too far back to do anything about it.

The wind continued to increase and by the time we were in the middle of the lake whitecaps were beginning to show and I was getting worried. If the wind kept increasing and the waves became too high they might cause one or more of the canoes to swamp. Fortunately that did not happen but the final leg of our journey was made more difficult than it had to be by paddling straight into the wind and waves. We saved about half a mile with the direct route but it wasn’t worth the gamble. I stressed over it all the way across the lake. With some hard paddling Clarke and I were able to catch up to the lead canoe but by the time we did we were almost to the ramp.

I brought the canoe trailer down and we emptied the canoes, cleaned them up, wiped them off (to comply with invasive aquatic species state laws), and loaded all the gear in the truck. In the middle of all this activity a guy backed up with a power boat and got rude with us about taking too long and blocking the boat ramp. We were loading as fast as we could and had moved our boats and gear to one side to keep the ramp open for others to use. I walked over to try to calm the guy down and we both recognized each other. He was the backcountry ranger that had been so nice and helpful as I was getting all the NPS permits and paperwork processed. Once he recognized me he backed off and put his nice-guy hat back on. It was his day off and he was anxious to get out on the lake and catch some of the big lake trout that Lewis Lake is famous for.

Once everything was loaded I dropped the canoes and trailer in the parking lot behind the ranger station and we loaded into the vehicles for the ride back through the Park to camp. We stopped in West Yellowstone for a pizza lunch at Gusher Pizza. I’m sure the other diners didn’t appreciate the arrival of four men and six teen-age-boys who had just paddled over fifty miles in the wilderness without showers for four days. They were lucky the weather had been cool. After lunch we drove back to camp and unloaded all the gear and supplies at the warehouse. The crew carried their gear back to their campsite and brought their dry bags and crew equipment back to the warehouse. Clarke and I said goodbye to the crew and headed home to Idaho Falls.

During the drive I called Dan VanOrden, the leader of the Venture crew coming the next week, to let him know what to expect and to add a few items to the gear list. Specifically; chest waders, mosquito head nets, bug spray, gloves, and padding for the canoe seats. Dan told me he had found some chest waders on sale and I asked him to buy me a pair and I would reimburse him. I planned to let someone use them for the wade and then give them to Clarke after the trek.

On Saturday I had to resupply for the next week’s trek. This time I had a crew of thirteen coming from Layton, Utah. I went back to Sam’s to get the fresh food we needed for breakfasts and snacks. I already had the gorp made up and just had to divide it up into fourteen bags. I went to Wal-Mart and Sportsman’s Warehouse to purchase more water filters, small dry bags, bear spray, and most importantly; mosquito netting. I found affordable head nets at the Army Navy Surplus Store and bought several. While there I also bought more rope for bear bags and tow lines. We would also be short on dry bags but I was able to borrow six medium size bags from Camp Little Lemhi that would serve perfectly for food/bear bags. I also bought some Goop to patch both pairs of waders, and holes in two dry bags. After a busy day of shopping and gear preparation and repair I felt prepared for the second week.

After church on Sunday I loaded up the truck and headed back to IPSC. I had a lot of preparations to make to get ready for the crew arriving on Monday morning. I cleaned out all the dry bags and separated the food into seven dry bags. I cleaned and sanitized the water filters and all the cooking gear. I cleaned and dried the rainflys, tarps, and tents and got them ready to go. During dinner I made arrangements for Monday’s activities with the COPE director and the Waterfront director and let the commissary director know what our food needs were. Then I had to sweep and clean the warehouse to get it ready for another day of training and preparation.

Because the crew drove up from Utah on Monday morning they didn’t arrive until midmorning. That put us under some time pressure to get everything done. We did a shortened version of the high COPE course, long enough to let everyone do a few elements but most of them were only interested in climbing up and riding the zip line down. This crew was much older and more mature than the previous week’s group. Most of them were athletes and all were in good physical shape. Clarke and I were the two largest of the previous group but I felt small next to most of this new group. Like the previous week there were two fathers coming along with their sons. They would be the leaders of one crew with six young men. Dan Van Orden and I would be the leaders of the other crew with four young men. Dan is a big enthusiastic man. He stands about 6’5” and weighs at least 250 pounds. Dan was an energetic leader, willing and able to take on any and all challenges. He did every element of the COPE Course despite a fear of heights.

After the COPE Course we ate a quick lunch then headed to the waterfront for swim checks and canoe practice. I immediately noticed other differences with this group. They were much more independent and I had a hard time holding their attention and keeping them focused. They also left a mess for me to clean up after lunch, which was a fore shadow of things to come.

Our time at the waterfront was similar to the previous week—with a few differences. There was more complaining about the swim checks (the water really is quite cold), and the swim checks were more like swim races. The canoe races were more competitive as well. I was teamed up with Michael who would be my canoe partner for the week. He had passed the swim check but it had left him feeling sick so we sat out the first race. It was a hard fought battle but Dan and Jordan won by a nose with very close competition. One of the canoes swamped during the race so we started the swamping rescue practice earlier than planned. I sent another canoe to rescue them and they had a difficult time because I had not had a chance to explain and demonstrate the cross-canoe rescue. They kept rolling the canoe and the boys were in the water much longer than normal. I started to worry about them but they finally got out but they were worn out and cold.

The triangle race was quite spirited as well. Michael and I were in the front group of canoes but we had to paddle hard to keep up. The first turn thinned the pack but there were still four canoes in close quarters. I used the same quick pivot turn to get ahead but as the other canoes straightened out there were several collisions and we almost got swamped when we were broadsided. One of the other boys grabbed our canoe to shove us out of the way but that pushed them out of line and out of the race. We powered out of the pack and barely won in the final sprint. Michael was a good bowman but not nearly as strong a paddler as Clarke.

When the race finished the canoe paddled by the two fathers kept going and they paddled out near the first buoy and were looking in the water for something. I asked the other guys what was going on and was told that Mr. Wolfley’s iPhone had fallen overboard during the race and he was trying to find it. I had seen the iPhone in his canoe before the race and asked him if he wanted to put it in my waterproof ditty bag and he said no. Now it was at the bottom of the lake. Fortunately the lake water was crystal clear and the day was calm so they could see straight to the bottom. Mike and I paddled out to help look as did a couple other canoes. I went back to shore to look for a mask and snorkel to make the search easier. I found two sets in the building and took them out to the searchers. After about a half-hour of searching they spotted the phone in deep water and after several dives they were able to recover it. The rest of the day went like the previous Monday but there was a definite difference in the attitude of all the participants.

I was up and ready to go by 5:AM on Tuesday but when I got to the crew’s campsite some of the boys were still sleeping. It took a lot of encouragement and prodding to get everyone up and ready to go. After a quick prayer and breakfast we were on our way to the Park. We stopped at the Grant Village Backcountry Ranger’s Station to pick up our permits and purchase fishing permits and stopped by the store to purchase some film then drove on down to the boat ramp. As the crew unloaded the gear I brought the canoes down to the ramp. In my haste I forgot I had locked the canoes up with a cable that I passed through each thwart and one tire of the trailer. As I pulled out I severed the cable with the tire but I’m fortunate I didn’t damage any of the canoes.

Once we were loaded up and ready to go I had the group paddle to the area just south of the dock to raft up and receive some last minute safety instructions. The boat ramp was very busy and I wanted to get us out of the way and have some time to stress the importance of always wearing their life jackets, staying together, and paddling close to the shore of the lake. I was still spooked by last week’s mid-lake crossing and my confidence level in this new group wasn’t very high. After the safety briefing we sprinted to the western shore and started our long paddle up the lake. The day was clear and mild but there were storm clouds building on the southern horizon and I knew we would be paddling in rain before we finished the day.

During the previous week’s trek we never saw any other groups on the lake until our trip out on Friday. This time there were several power boats on the lake and other groups of paddlers in canoes and kayaks. We made good time across the lake and up the Lewis River, stopping for lunch in the same spot as the previous week—minus the thunder storm. It quickly became obvious that there were two distinct groups in the crew. The Green/Wolfley group (I’ll call them the Green Wolves) were the cool kid athletes. They went off about one-hundred feet away from the rest of us to eat. The guys that stayed with Dan were the gamers and brainiacs.


After lunch we continued paddling up to the river. Just as we were getting to the strong current we passed a Scout troop with two leaders and about six Scouts. They were all pretty young and were having a hard time controlling their canoes in the current. It was hard enough for older Scouts and I felt sorry for the younger guys. I asked their leaders if they need help but they said they were fine so we continued on.

When we reached the take-out point we went to shore and got ready for the wade. This time I had several volunteers and five of us waded the canoes up the rest of the river. Dan and I doubled up our boats to get all seven canoes up to the lake. The water level had dropped significantly in the past week and the wade seemed a lot easier this time. About half way up the wading part of the river I saw a boy in the middle of the rapids holding onto a submerged rock. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and was obviously cold and scared. As I got a little closer I could see an adult on the opposite side of the river emptying water out of a canoe. Dan waded up and gave me his towline and started wading across the deep current to help the boy. When he was about halfway there another leader came wading downstream closer to the boy and helped him off the rock and over to the western shore. I can’t imagine how or why they had crossed the river but the boy (I found out later they were another Scout troop) must have fallen our when the canoe swamped. I was impressed with Dan’s quick action and willingness to risk his safety to rescue the boy. I was composing the nomination for a heroism award for Dan in my head when the other leader showed up and rescued the Scout. It left me wondering if a heroism award is appropriate for a leader who had allowed the problem to occur in the first place.

About two-thirds of the way up the river we were caught by a passing thunderstorm with plenty of lightning. I called for everyone to get out of the river and we sought shelter in the dense forest of lodge pole pines until the worst of the storm passed over. There was still a light rain falling as we finished the wade and started paddling again. This time the campsites were a couple of miles west on the southern shore of Shoshone Lake so we still had a lot of paddling to do before dark.


The first campsite was 8Q4 Moose Creek Point and I had the Green Wolves camp there. It has a good beach with a nice campsite but the best tenting areas had been closed off for plant regeneration so the tent sites were separated from the kitchen area and bear pole by quite a ways. It was inconvenient but probably safer in bear country anyway. I paddled on with Dan’s group to 8Q3 South Narrow Beach just around the point and in the middle of the next cove. The campsite had a fair beach with a steep climb up to the kitchen and campsite areas. The storm had passed and we went to work setting up camp, hanging up gear to dry, and cooking dinner. Everyone was pretty tired and the mosquitoes were bad so we went to bed soon after dinner.


I awoke early the next morning to a beautiful day. The campsite was up on a bluff and had a good view to the north and east over the lake. I hung up all the wet clothes and gear and packed up my tent and equipment while waiting for the others to arise. I took all the wading gear and packed it into two army duffel bags and cached them under a tree near the lake to be retrieved on our way out on Friday. After breakfast and cleaning up camp we saw the Green Wolves coming around the cove towards us. We loaded our canoes and were ready to leave as they arrived. We were running a little late and there was a light breeze blowing from the southwest. Wind that early in the day meant rough water later in the day.


We paddled around the rest of the big cove to the Narrows and by the time we arrived there were already whitecaps showing on the water. I knew it was only going to get worse and we needed to cross. The crew were strong and fresh and the wind was in our favor so I told them all to paddle as hard and fast as they could and to watch out for each other. Off we went to cross the lake. We could see another group camped at the North Narrows campsite and they stood on the beach and watched us cross. As we approached the shore I told the other leaders that they would be camping at that campsite on our last night on the lake. I waited in a little cove for the rest ofhte group to catch up and catch their breath and then we started paddling west into the wind to reach our next campsites. After several minutes of hard paddling I could tell the wind and waves were too strong to fight until we had more time to rest so we turned around and paddled back to the North Narrows campsite.

North Narrows has a huge beach so there was plenty of room for us to hold up. The other group was another Scout troop on their way out. They were packing up but had waited too long and were grounded by the wind. We ate lunch and some of the guys napped while we waited for the wind to settle down. I knew from experience that it could blow hard all day so after about an hour we got back in the canoes and started out again. The wind wasn’t quite as bad and once we got around Windy Point we were protected by the curve of the cove and the going was easier.

We paddled about a mile to 8R2 Bluff Top where Dan’s group would be camping. Mike and I unloaded our gear and then continued on with the Green Wolves to 8R4 Flat Top where they would be camping. We helped them unload and set up their kitchen area while they put up their tents. Flat Top has a small beach and a long steep trial up to the kitchen area and the campsites are further up the trail in a beautiful stand of lodge poles. It has a commanding view of the lake and is far enough above the water that the mosquitoes are somewhat tolerable. Once the Green Wolves were settled in Mike and I paddled back to our group and set up our tents.


Bluff Top is another nice campsite, as the name suggests, up on a bluff overlooking the lake. It has a nice beach, large kitchen area, and plenty of tent sites. After dinner was over and cleaned up I went down to the beach and did some fishing. I tried several flies without success until I tied on a white minnow pattern and on the first cast I hooked a nice lake trout. It was about sixteen inches long and skinny. It didn’t put up much of a fight for its size and I was surprised how large it was when I finally landed it. After a few more casts I lost my fly but I had two green minnows of the same pattern and they worked as well or better. I caught two more lake trout, each one larger than the last and it felt pretty good. By then it was time for bed.


Thursday morning the weather was perfect. It was a beautiful day with no clouds and no wind. We packed up camp but left our gear in the dry bags and our food and cooking gear up the bear pole. We paddled west to meet up with the Green Wolves. They were ready to go and we left their gear as well. We wanted to keep the canoes as light as possible for the paddle to the west end of the lake and Shoshone Geyser Basin. The water was smooth and clear and we could watch the trout swimming beneath us. There were two other fishermen in the Green Wolves and they would stop and cast to the trout from time to time but they weren’t able to catch any and we didn’t have time to wait for them. We made it to the Geyser Basin in good time and hiked the trail. One of the geysers went off right as we were hiking past it and that was a good show. I had a hard time keeping the guys on the trail and had to stop them from approaching the thermal features and throwing rocks and sticks in. They had watched the video and I had told them it was illegal but they didn’t care. So I kept a close watch on them while we were there and they resented my nagging. We hiked back to the canoes and explored the marsh area out and around the beaver lodge. By then a light breeze had started to blow and I told them it was time to head back to the camps and get our gear.




As we paddled back the wind was to our backs and the going was fairly easy. Before we left Flat Top I walked around and inspected the campsite and found several pieces of trash and some food scraps. I was getting tired of nagging them but they just didn’t seem to care. I even saw one of them open a tin of canned chicken and pour the juice on the ground. When I confronted him about it he said, “It doesn’t matter, we aren’t staying here.” I told him he was going to get another camper killed by a bear that was attracted by the smell and he looked at me like I was crazy. I made him dig up the contaminated dirt and pack it out with his trash. The two leaders must have been afraid they were going to starve because they had brought a whole duffel bag full of junk food and sodas. Every time we would stop they would break out a box of Ding Dongs or Ho Hos. The treats were nice but the boys would drop their wrappers on the ground and I would make them pick them up. By the time we had loaded our gear there were whitecaps and we had to fight the wind and waves all the way to our next campsites.




As we were paddling around the inside of a cove for protection I saw another troop coming towards us straight across the center of the cove right in the middle of the tempest. I had to wonder about them, was it insanity or ignorance? They were in very real danger and it would have been so much easier to paddle along the shore where the wind was lighter and they could get out if they swamped. It was so obvious to me but I still had to nag and remind our crew members to hug the shore. By this time the Green Wolves were more confident in their canoeing skills and they were constantly cutting the coves and getting further away from the shore.

Dan’s crew’s next campsite was at Windy Point and the Green Wolves were going on another half-mile to the North Narrows campsite. As we were coming along the edge of the Point we passed two canoes that pulled out and it looked like they might be in trouble. I called and asked if they needed help but they just stared at me like they were in a stupor. I checked on them later and they said they were just waiting out the wind. We passed another set of canoes that had rigged a pontoon setup that allowed them to paddle in rough water with little chance of capsizing. I thought that was pretty clever but if the waves were high enough they could still take on water and swamp. But they were doing fine and making good progress in the wind.

As we rounded the point and came to the Windy Point beach, and I use ‘beach’ very loosely, we were surprised to see five canoes in the only spots we had to land our canoes. There were a few boys and some leaders on the trial looking at us as we fought hard to keep from getting smashed into the rocks and hold our place in the wind and waves. They didn’t make any attempt to make room for us so I yelled over the noise of the waves and wind that this was our campsite. They just stared at us like a herd of cattle. We came to shore, unloaded our gear, then hauled our canoes up past their canoes and put them beside the trail on the steep hillside. After awhile the other group saw what we were doing and they came down and helped us haul our gear up the steep trial to the campsite. They had just made the Narrows crossing and had been caught by the wind and could go no further. I told them they were welcome to hang out for as long as they needed to. They had apparently been there for some time because the Scouts had collected every fallen log and branch in the campsite and stacked them up to make a windbreak about six feet high. I was hoping the rangers didn’t come by and think we had done it. It was a good example of high impact camping. The Scouts were all sitting around looking very bored and a couple of them looked like they had been traumatized by the crossing. I suggested that they get some long logs and use rope and duct tape to pontoon the canoes in pairs making it impossible for them to capsize. They considered that for awhile but decided to wait awhile longer for the wind to die.


We worked around them and set up our camp. They were hanging out in the kitchen area but it was early afternoon and we didn’t need the kitchen anyway. After an hour or so we saw the Scouts carrying their gear from the canoes up to the kitchen area and making a gear pile. I went to the leaders and asked what their plans were. I was worried they were going to try and share the camp with us and I knew Mr. Ranger would not approve. The leaders told me they had decided to portage the gear and canoes around the point and put back in where the wind was blocked by the next bluff. That sounded like a good plan and we offered to assist them. They declined and said the boys needed something to do anyway. So we watched as the small army of human ants carried their gear and then canoes through the campsite and over the hill to the north end of the cove. Most of their canoes were old-school hand built fiberglass battle ships and I was glad I wasn’t schlepping them through the woods. I was surprised to see a large handgun on the hip of one of the leaders—a clear violation of BSA and NPS rules. Dan wanted me to confront the guy but I told him I make it a policy not to argue with people who are armed. The guy looked like the serious no nonsense type and they were already having a bad day, so I ignored it. Dan went over to chat the guy up and it turns out he is a sheriff’s deputy. I’m not sure that gives him the right to keep and bear arms in a National Park but I decided discretion was the better part of valor.

After the other group had cleared out we set up our kitchen and were just hanging out. About a half hour had passed when a lone teen-age boy came walking through the camp towards the canoes carrying two paddles without saying a word. A few minutes later he came back up the trail without the paddles and explained that they had accidently taken two of our paddles. And off he went through the woods. I hoped the bears weren’t hungry. The wind kept blowing all afternoon and into the evening. It was the longest and hardest wind I had seen on the lake. We cooked dinner and cleaned up. By the evening the wind had settled down. Our group was in Dan’s tent playing cards and having a farting contest. Dan won. I took my fishing gear down to the lake and fished until dark. I caught two more small lake trout and then called it a day.



We were up before dawn on Friday morning for the long paddle out. It was another clear beautiful morning which was a blessing because it would be a long day and bad weather would make it that much harder. We ate a quick breakfast, packed up, and paddled over to the North Narrows campsite to meet up with the Green Wolves. They were just loading up as we arrived. For the past couple of days I had done a walk through inspection of their campsite before we left but this time I trusted that they had left the camp clean. We waited a few minutes as they finished loading and got in the canoes and then off we went across the Narrows. I asked Dan to lead the way and hug the shore around the large cove. It is safer to stay near the shore and we needed to stop by South Narrow Beach to pick up our waders. After awhile I looked back to see how the others were coming along and saw that the Green Wolves had left the line and were paddling straight across the cove. There was no wind and the lake was as smooth as glass but it still bothered me that after all the time together they still could not follow the rules.

After we picked up the cashed waders we continued around the cove. Dan was still leading but I noticed his pace was quicker than before. We never discussed it but I could tell he was determined to beat the Green Wolves to the point—and we did. When we were within hearing range I reminded them it was important to stay together and close to shore in case someone got into trouble. Just then Cody called over and asked if he could borrow my extra lifejacket. I asked him what happened to his and he said, “I left it hanging on a tree at camp.” My heart about stopped. First, I had not noticed that he wasn’t wearing his lifejacket; second, no one noticed the life jacket when we left camp; and third and most significantly, he had crossed the Narrows and paddled a mile over deep water without any protection. Dumb, dumb, and dumber!

I paddled over and gave him the extra lifejacket I kept in my canoe and then with suppressed anger I told him, “Turn around and go back and get your PFD. Those things are expensive. We will wait here for you.” Then his father spoke up and said, “No one is going back. I’ll pay for the PFD.” With that we continued across the lake to the head of the river.

Every campsite we passed had a group in it but no one else was on the water yet. We rafted up in the cove at the head of the river for the same safety briefing as last week but I wasn’t too worried about this group as they were stronger and their canoeing skills were better. We all made it past the killer-snag-on-the-curve and down the rapids without much difficulty. As Mike and I were coming around the last bend in the swift water portion of the river I saw motion on the shore to our right. From behind a bush a grizzly cub was sprinting towards the river. I yelled at Mike to back paddle hard. Our speed and course on the river would have either run us into the cub or put us between the cub and its mother—and I didn’t think either option was a good idea. We were back paddling hard and looking around for Momma Bear who was nowhere to be seen. I was yelling, “Not good! Not good! Back paddle! Back paddle!” I yelled upstream to the other canoes, “Bear! Bear! Back paddle! Back paddle! It’s not safe down here!” The nearest canoe was about one-hundred feet behind us and couldn’t understand what I was yelling over the roar of the water so they just kept paddling down the river as if nothing was wrong.

We were able to hold our place in the river and the cub crossed the river about fifty-feet in front of us. When it reached the left bank it shot up the steep hill like its tail was on fire. The steep bank was about one-hundred feet high and the cub sprinted up and over nad disappeared in seconds. I’m still amazed at how fats that little critter shot up that hill. We never did see Momma Bear. She must have crossed just before we came around the bend and was waiting on top of the hill for Booboo. I felt better once we were joined by the other canoes but for a few seconds I was sure we were in deep doo doo. Just two weeks earlier a hiker was killed by a bear in another part of the Park and I know it’s never a good idea to go near a sow with a cub.

After that thrill the rest of the trip was anticlimactic. The guys in the next two canoes behind us saw the west end of the east bound cub, and it’s always a thrill to see a bear in the wild. We paddled down the river and out into Lewis Lake. Once on the lake you can see the cars and RV’s driving on the highway that skirts the lake on the eastern shore. That’s when you know your wilderness experience is almost over and it’s time to head back to civilization. We followed the western shore south down the lake. I wasn’t taking any chances like the previous week. I let Dan lead the way because I knew he would follow the rules and keep to the shore. There were clouds building on the southern horizon but very little wind was blowing.

As we got closer to the boat ramp the canoes started veering towards the shore and pretty soon there was a final sprint to see who would arrive first. There was no discussion, everyone just started to paddle faster and faster. Mike and I had to paddle hard but we were able to win the impromptu race—but just barely. I went up to get the truck and trailer while the rest of the canoes came to shore. We unloaded the canoes, loaded the trucks, stowed all the gear, and headed up the highway though the Park. When we reached the summit of Craig Pass I saw Dan flashing his lights behind me. I pulled over in the next turnout and saw that one of the tires on the canoe trailer had gone flat. That’s just what we needed with thirteen exhausted and hungry people who were all anxious to get back to camp and on their way home to Utah.

Fortunately I had a floor jack and a star-bar in my truck so pulling the tire off was quick and easy. I put the flat on top of the gear and we drove on into West Yellowstone. We went to Gusher Pizza and while the group ordered I went to a auto repair shop to get the tire repaired. The tire was the kind used for house trailers and the mechanic had to use starter fluid and fire to literally explode the tire onto the rim. It took him about a dozen tries to finally get the tire to set. It was a pretty cool process to watch. Once he finally got the tire inflated he tested it and it was full of tiny stress cracks from too many years in the sun. He had an old set of tires he sold me so we could have two good tires on the trailer and one of the old tires as a spare.
I met the crew back at the pizza place and after eating a couple slices of pizza we were on our way to camp. We unloaded all the crew gear and equipment on the road near their campsite. I drove to the warehouse and unloaded the rest of the camp’s gear and equipment, sorted everything out, and got ready to head out again. I drove back to the campsite to collect the dry bags, bear bags, and borrowed equipment. I said goodbye to the crew as they were loading up to drive back to Utah that afternoon. Dan and a couple of his guys were staying the night with the rest of the Scouts from their Varsity Team so he offered to go with me to retrieve the trailer.

Four of us drove back into YNP and we dropped the guys off at Old Faithful. They had never seen the grand old geyser and wanted to watch it erupt. They waited while Dan and I went back up to Craig Pass to fetch the trailer. We put the tire back on and hitched the trailer to the truck. We then drove back to Old Faithful to get the guys. The geyser was just finishing its show as we arrived. I bought everyone an ice-cream cone in the Old Faithful Lodge and we headed out. Since it was already late in the day and the guys had not seen any of the other thermal features we pulled into Biscuit Basin and walked around the looping boardwalk trail. It was impressive but after visiting Shoshone Geyser Basin in its natural state Biscuit Basin was a little overdone with too many tourists, boardwalks, and signs.

We drove back though the Park, West Yellowstone, Island Park, and into camp. I dropped off Dan and the two Scouts and then drove home. All in all it was a fantastic experience and I’m glad I had the opportunity to go back into Shoshone Lake again. Over one-hundred miles of paddling in two weeks is a little much but I was able to handle it pretty well. The mosquitoes were horrible and the wades were grueling but they were the price you had to pay to enjoy wild beauty of untouched wilderness. When I need to relax all I have to do is close my eyes and picture the sunrise over Shoshone Lake and peace surrounds me once again.


Here is a copy of an email sent by Bryan Fishburn, Scoutmaster of Salt Lake Troop 197, to the Scouts and parents of Troop 197. Bryan is an attorney and writes a good story. His account of our trip is very readable. You will notice our accounts vary slightly, but he wasn’t on the trip so his information is second hand. I was there, but I tend to embellish to make myself look heroic.

The Shoshone 8 began their week in camp, and all completed the high COPE course on Monday morning. It is difficult to describe, but involves climbing a rope ladder to a height of about 30 feet, then venturing out onto a high wire, and jumping from platform to platform - all about 30 feet above ground. Then descending to earth via a zip line. The balance of Monday was spent learning how to manage canoes, getting food and gear ready for Tuesday, and learning how to cope with bears and other hazards in the wilderness.

This group arose at 5 a.m. Tuesday, in order to strike their tents and get going. Amidst some significant grumbling and muttering, I observed. Packing up wet tents (we endured a heavy rain and thunderstorm Monday night) may have contributed to the generally dour mood. Bryce was quite peeved when he found two inches of water inside his waterproof sack, caused by an inadvertent failure to screw on tightly the lid on his water bottle. I got up mostly to say goodbye, but still dressed in my pajamas, and now in hiking boots and a rain jacket, I helped carry gear through camp to the vehicles in the parking lot. (Thankfully, it was early, and not many people saw me). Chris said a prayer, in which he asked that the group come back from their trip without injury, and they were off.

The group then set off for Lewis Lake, about 50 - 70 miles away, by road at least. Their ultimate destination: Shoshone Lake, located in the interior of Yellowstone National Park and the largest natural lake in the 48 lower states not accessible by any road. Out of range of any cell phone reception. Bear country. Wilderness.

The group's guide was Clarke Farrer, who is the executive director of the Grand Teton Council. He was joined by his 25 year old son, Clarke. Chris Olsen reports that he was very impressed with Mr. Farrer, that he was a man of great strength and stamina. Dave said he was "phenomenal." Jonathon described him "as one tough guy." Ben referred to him as "superman." All were thankful that he was their guide and leader on the trip.

The ten in the group put in at the south end of Lewis Lake - which is near the south boundary of Yellowstone Park, north of Jackson, Wyo. The departure, though, was delayed several hours because of the thunderstorm, heavy rain, and lightning that hit the area (Island Park, too) midday Tuesday. Finally, the group had to go, inclement weather notwithstanding, if they were to make their first campsite by dark. They thus began their canoe trip in the rain.

The group paddled across Lewis Lake, then up the Lewis River en route to Shoshone Lake. The group was able to paddle upriver about three miles, but had to tow the canoes the last mile by rope; towed by someone in the river, in waders. Mason was one of those who waded up river with a canoe in tow. Clarke towed one canoe up river, then came back for two more and the scouts who had stayed behind.

The group's herculean effort got them to their designated Park Service campsite just before dark, wet and exhausted. Their reward was what one of the scouts described as a dismal "mosquito infested swamp." Clarke said, in his Facebook account of the trip, that the mosquitoes were the worst he had encountered outside of Alaska. Chris wrapped himself in his tent, to use as a form of mosquito netting. Bryce just resigned himself to being eaten.

The campsites about Shoshone Lake have a maximum capacity each of eight persons, which meant that Clarke and Clarke stayed each night at a separate campsite; two campsites each night having been reserved. After Clarke and Clarke had the first night paddled away to their campsite a distance away, it is rumored that Terry, as reported to me by Chris, attempted to instigate a mutiny, suggesting to the others, "As soon as they are out of sight, let's get back in the canoes, paddle downriver under the cover of darkness, and get out of this _____ place." Notwithstanding reported sentiment to do just that, the group hunkered down for the night to venture forth the next day.

The remainder of the trip, fortunately, featured better, in fact mostly beautiful weather, much better campsites, and beautiful scenery. Days began by arising at 5 a.m., in order to get on and off the water while it was still calm. Breakfast. Then padde to a new campsite each morning. Rest or explore in the afternoons.

Could any of us, I ask, have imagined Bryce, Mason, Ben and J2 up at 5 a.m. four days in a row?!!

In the course of their trip, the group paddled to the west end of Shoshone Lake, then back. Spent a good portion of one day at the Shoshone Geyser Basin, on the west end of the Lake. The guys fought a headwind and waves to get to their next campsite after their visit to the geyser basin; J2 said it was hard to make headway and control the canoes.

Chris reports that the group saw elk, bald eagles, and beaver, but not bears. He said they followed a muskrat in their canoes.

The group arose at 5 a.m. on Friday morning on the north side of Shoshone Lake. After breakfast, and having linked up with Clarke and Clarke, the five canoes crossed Shoshone Lake, headed south across the lake in a fog so dense that the scouts had to navigate by compass. Each could barely see the other canoes. On reaching the south shore, the fog lifted and the group headed for the source of the Lewis River. Good weather and a downriver current made for a much more pleasant return trip, though the mid lake crossing of Lewis Lake was reported to be arduous. The group got back to Island Park mid day Friday, then headed home to SLC.

The scouts who went on this trip grew up quite a bit. Each, I think, came back more of a man than when he left; and each should have a greater confidence in his ability to withstand and overcome challenges, and difficult conditions. Each of the six Scouts who had not already done so, completed their camping merit badge. Brett completed the canoeing merit badge; the others having earned theirs two years ago at Camp Lemhi (in Idaho on the Snake River below Jackson, Wyo). The six will also earn the "50 miler" award for completing a multi day canoe trip covering approximately 50 miles.