Wapaloosie Mountain

Yesterday Walter and I headed up to the Sherman Pass area to do another 50x50 and we took our friend Georgie along with us. Each time we saw each other last year we said we had to go skiing or hiking or something together and now we finally have.

Wapaloosie is along the Kettle Crest National Recreation Trail and is just south and two mountains down from Midnight Mountain (see previous post). The trail has it's own trailhead and there is camping available there, though no water save for a creek. The trail starts out in the woods and heads uphill with numerous switchbacks. Some parts of the trail are rather steep and rocky. After a bit, the trail comes out onto the open side of Wapaloosie with views of the Sherman Pass areas and nearby mountains. Yesterday it was cold and rainy and the open areas were very windy. The trail hits a saddle between Wapaloosie and another small mountain and connects with the Kettle Crest Trail. There is no trail to the top of Wapaloosie but it takes just about ten minutes to get there, winding around the sparse trees and sage brush.

At the top we found a big rock cairn and inside was a plastic bottle that had paper and pencils in it. The first entry was from Jim Johnson who wrote the 50 hikes book! That was way cool. We sat and read the other entries and then left our own, including the Travels with Walter address. The view was mostly open which also meant it was windy. We pulled on every layer of clothing we had and ate some lunch. Georgie had the most delicious stale muffins I have ever tasted. We found an old canvas tent on top that was falling to pieces. There was a blue plastic tarp under it and Georgie, a pack rat after my own heart, was trying to get it out so she could take it home. Unfortunately it was all ripped up. We decided we did not have enough room or strength to pack it all out. The top of the mountain would be a lovely place to camp and I am going to keep it in mind for the future.

Our other goal for the day besides Wapaloosie was Scar Mountain which is just to the north. After lunch we headed out on the KCT down the side of Wapaloosie. It should be noted by anyone wanting to do this hike that there has been a revision to the KCT that does not show up on the USGS maps. The trail originally headed straight north but now has long switchbacks down to the saddle between Wapaloosie and Scar Mountain. We hit the first switchbacks which headed south and thought we had somehow missed the trail so we went back up the hill and found the old trail. We thought maybe it would be cool to just take the old trail which has not been maintained so we headed that way. After we got to a place where we could see Scar Mountain we realized that we were not going to make it to the top and back to the trailhead before it got dark. Damn that tilting of the earth!!!! This would be a fine hike to take in high summer when the days stay light for longer as the entire route is about ten miles. It would also have been doable if we would have started at the ass crack of dawn, but it is a three hour drive up there from Spokane. As it was, we still did not get back to my house until after 8:00pm, twelve hours after we left.

In all we ended up walking about eight miles and it was a good hike. We saw a large den that looked like it could be used by a bear and another smaller one that Georgie refused to stick her hand in. Chicken. From the top of the mountain we could see a meadow with small ponds near the road we came in on. Next time I am up there I am going to do some bush whacking to see if it would be a good place to walk into to camp. We also noticed a very curious thing. Across the valley the mountains have been replanted with trees and they are all planted in a row. There are thousands of them in big clumps and it looks like rows of corn. They are mature trees as well and we were just shaking our heads and laughing. At least they replanted.

School starts tomorrow and though I am glad, I am also a bit sad that summer is coming to an end. I really am a summer kind of girl, but I am planning on hiking as long as I can. It is now hunting season so we wore our orange. Well, sort of. I wore my orange hat and gave Georgie my vest, then tied Walter's vest to the front of me and had him wear his yellow raincoat, which he needed anyway. We did not see or hear any hunters there but on the way out we passed a guy in a truck who was all dressed in camo. I suppose that once the snow falls I will be digging out my snow shoes. After all, that is hiking too!

Pictures from the top down: Me and Walter; Georgie sporting her orange vest; a little Poodle-Woman-Love; looking towards Sherman Peak; Georgie filling out the log at the cairn; a view from the top.

Paddling the St. Joe

Yesterday, September 11, 2006 I woke up at the ungodly hour of 4:30am and decided that if I did not get out of the house I would spend the day in front of the TV watching the 9/11 memorial stuff. I had already had my fill the night before. I think most of us are simultaneously drawn to it yet repelled by it. This morning I have seen many Blogger posts in which people were discussing where they were when it all happened. For my generation, I guess this is our Kennedy assissination. I was not around for the Grassy Knoll, but as a kid I liked to ask people where they were. I was amazed that all these different people could pinpoint one specific simultaneous moment in time. I remember Reagan getting shot (I was skipping school) but that was really not such a tragic event for the masses.

On 9/11/01 I was at my parent's house in Illinois. I had just finished a little solo kayaking trip in Missouri. I was asleep and my mom came home from her computer class and woke me up. She heard something on the radio of some construction workers who were just standing around looking stunned. We turned the TV on just as the first tower started to fall. Like most folks, I was glued to the TV for a long time and then decided that I had had enough. That night though, I hung out with my grandparents and we of course had the TV on. I remember, when Dubbya came on, my Grandpa made a comment that we were going to end up in a war, and then he said he would not be surprised if we ended up back into Iraq. Hummm...

What amazed me the most from that time is the sense of unity I felt with my fellow Americans. The horror and sense of outrage transcended social, political, economic, and religious lines. We were one people, and in my lifetime I do not think this collective sense of citizenship has ever happened. By the time I started back from Illinois to Washington, the US was invading Afganistan and hunting for bin Butt Head. Though I like to consider myself a pacifist, I would have gladly shot his balls off, and then every other part of him. Everywhere I stopped along the way people, complete strangers would gather and talk about it; in the Hardees in Mexico, Missouri, the campground in Kansas, the mini-mart/buffalo burger joint in Wyoming. We wanted to know what had happened while we were on the road that day. And we were all afraid. For the most part, I think we still are.



So with all of this on my mind, and many other depressing thoughts, I figured it was best to get my butt out where I would at least feel some peace. I have been on the St. Joe River in Idaho many, many, many times but always in a ski boat. Every time I have been there I have said to myself, "Self, you need to come back here with your kayak" and yesterday seemed like the perfect day for it.



The St. Joe comes out of the mountains of North Idaho and drains into lakes Benewah, Round, and Chatcolet. I put my boat in at Rocky Point on Chatcolet near Heyburn State Park, the oldest state park in Idaho. Warning: there is a $4 parking fee. I paddled across the lake to the mouth of the river and then up. I had no destination in mind but figured I would paddle for three hours then turn around and paddle back. The highlight of the day was the quiet and the wildlife. I saw one motor boat and one kayak the entire six hours I was on the water.



If you like birds, this is the place to go. There are nests built up on platforms for osprey and in the spring and early summer the nests are occupied with babies. There was an old tree full of some kind of bird (see picture) that I could not at first make out. By the time I got my camera out 3/4 of them had flown away. They looked like loons.

Narrow passages lead from the river into the other lakes and I poked around in the wild rice in Round Lake. Part way up the river I spotted a bald eagle perched in a dead tree. I saw a coyote on shore drinking out of the water and then it ran when it saw me. The river twists and turns and is unbelievably peaceful. A narrow spit of land separates the river from the lakes and it looks like a wonderful place to set up a camp for the weekend.

I paddled about four miles up the river and turned around and came back. Instead of going back the way I came, I took a little channel into Benewah Lake, which is almost completely cut off from Chatcolet by milfoil and wild rice. The birds in this lake were incredible. There were thousands of them, so many that at a distance and from three feet above the water, they looked like spits of land. The fish were jumpin', the air was still, the sky was clear and it was a glorious day.

I pulled out of the water on the south side of Benewah and had a bit of lunch. I was contemplating a swim, but the air was still pretty darn cold. I got back to the boat ramp at around noon and was home by two. It ended up being a pretty good day.