March Camping

Doesn't that look pleasant? St. Joe 2010

Well, on the 19th of March I skipped work and made my way over to Lolo. My truck has developed a nasty hesitation which made me sweat all the way over. I can't "load" it at all before it starts bucking like a rabid horse...needless to say, going up the pass was an adventure. The rest of the way is basically all downhill, so that calmed me down a bit. My Dad and I spent some quality time cutting down one of the apple trees in the yard, shooting, and going out to dinner.

The next day I made my way over Lolo Pass and didn't have much trouble with the truck. I knew the Lewiston grade would be a pain in the butt on Sunday, but tried to push that out of my head. I made it down to Two Shadows quicker than I thought I would and kicked around camp for a bit (picked up all the trash other folks seem to like leaving there.) That was followed by a hike up the hill on the other side of the highway, just exploring and letting my curiosity lead me further and further up the hill. It was peculiar, I found half of a walnut shell up there! Either it was an industrious squirrel or more likely a raven. The afternoon was still young so I went to get some fishing regulations from Lowell. Much to my surprise the little store was closed! I've never seen it closed...wonder what was up? Well, I went across the river to the Inn and found someone who was able to help me get the 2009 fishing regulations. I was using barbless hooks and releasing what I was going to try and catch anyways, so I figured I was alright. On the way back to camp I stopped to get some sand from a little sandbar. I took a gamebag and a shovel down the fill slope and loaded the bag up. The first attempt lifting it led me to realize that I didn't gauge the weight of sand very well, so I dumped some out. I was able to get this bag up on my shoulder and start up the hill but it kept pulling me backwards down the slope and made traction impossible. Alright. So I just hoisted it up in front of me and waddled my way up the steep hill...I was sweating pretty good by the time I got it in the truck. (You can always use sand.)

Note: Got to work the following Monday and weighed the bag...115 pounds! Not too bad!

I spent the rest of the afternoon in a chair down by the water, reading and writing. It was pleasant and very welcome. At about 1.5 hours till dusk I couldn't take it and grabbed the rod and went to a DEEP hole below camp about 500 yards. It was a nice little spot: hidden from the highway, a nice pool to fish, and on rocks warmed by the afternoon sun. I had two long releases on some decent trout and fished until dark. Something about hooking that first fish leads a guy to the inevitable, "One more cast" do-loop.

The drive home went well until the grade up from Lewiston and the hills around Moscow. I quickly learned how to manipulate the pickup and judge when I needed to downshift and carry speed so it went well. But going up the grade, at 50 mph, in 3rd gear was definitely not good for my engine. I had it looked at later that week and it seemed to be a intake manifold gasket! Two days later I had my truck and all seemed normal.

So last weekend I cruised down to the St. Joe to camp, look for antlers, and do some fishing. I was cruising up a back road (I've found the county roads that will connect a guy from Wolf Lodge to Harrison making it less of a slalom course than the highway.) Okay, so I'm cruising up this road and off to my left, a lone goose in the timber tries to run onto the road. It kinda ate it at the road edge, got his feet back, then took off! The grade of the road was such that he couldn't gain altitude faster than the road bed, so I followed this goose for a ways while it flew 5 feet off the deck. It rounded a corner and I backed off hoping it would calm down and land somewhere. When I came around the bend, there was a truck pulling a tractor in front of me, and in front of him was the goose! Imagine him stopping at the intersection of a side road and watching this goose fly past! Weird. The wayward bird eventually took a dive into the timber beside the road and thus ended our chase.

After a couple more hours I made it to the end of the road. I had heard you could drive all the way to Red Ives, but here was a sign that said, "Road closed to winter travel." Hmmm, rather than be that guy (that FS guy) that gets his name in the paper for going around a barrier I decided to find a camp much lower than I anticipated. I located a good spot tucked back into a very narrow, dark valley...for some reason I didn't want to be adjacent to the highway. That little chore accomplished I went fishing. There's one hole I've always wanted to try out, but it requires a substantial walk (including some bouldering) to access. I hefted the pack, grabbed the rod and headed down. I flailed around in the hole for a while, then cut my losses and decided to move on. Back up the hill I went! Well, I drove back down to the camp to double-check my decision on that being the "best" place, then again turned around to go fish some more. I glanced down at something in my lap and damn near ditched the truck! I flew up to a landing next to the highway, shut the truck down and leapt outside. I was COVERED in ticks. These weren't just any ticks either, they were HUGE. Easily the size of a pencil eraser and I pulled about 10 off my trousers. That led me to check my sweatshirt which held about 10 on the outside and another 10 on the inside! Ugh, I really don't do well covered in ticks. I pulled out the pack and cleared them off of there and then basically stripped right there to check the rest of me.

I felt things on me for the next couple of hours even though I was clean. Creepy.



Camp approach from the landing


Camp with my "perched" truck



Little tent with big surroundings

Camp at about 1700...colder than it looks!

Fishing led to more disappointment so I called it a day and went to set up camp. There was no chance of me going up the hills to look for antlers. I avoided all brush after that. At 1630 I was cold up in that valley and the downslope breeze kept it pretty chilly well into the night. But, like Dad always says, "It's still springtime in the Rockies." Luckily I was prepared and put on my longjohns, donned my wool coat and hat, put one sleeping bag in another, and got a fire set up to be sparked. I could only make it until about 1800 before I started the fire...I was worried that I didn't have enough wood to last me very long. But, I did and had some left over the next day.

The night went well. I heard a tree give up the ghost and crash to the ground. Then later I swore I heard a wolf howl, but after completely waking up and listening I found out it was an owl. Bummer.

The next morning showed me a sky that looked like it was poised to rain. I hustled around camp and got everything packed up by 0830. With really nothing left to do and not wanting to just sit around I headed out. After being home for about an hour and taking care of my gear, I realized it was too early to call it a day and sit around, so I grabbed Lucca and headed out for a hike. It was nice and we were able to both make it out without any ticks!

Unfortunately, the truck has a slight hesitation still..but it's definitely better than it was. I guess when I take it in for some new brakes I'll mention that they still have some research to do. Rapidly approaching the point where I need to just get a new truck.

But, that's been the past two weekends! Nice to get out and do something different.