fair warning

So yeah that crazy weather front that rolled through Saturday-Sunday washed me right out of the mountains.  Cut my backpack trip short, darn it, but it was an adventure nonetheless.

absolutely not by mountain bikes, frackin horses

The trip started out pleasant enough, mostly fair skies though with scudding clouds that portended something else to come. Trail was an unholy, soul-sucking mess from the drenching rains the week prior, and the horses, my Dog the horses. 

See, that's the problem with backpacking the Wild during the hunting seasons of Fall.  Add a string of hoofed, sh!#ting, pissing, foul beasts to a muddy trail and that right there is reason enough for a backpacker to join the Sierra Club for life.  And that's to say nothing of the Outfitters' actual pack animals, badda-bing!   

Thank you, thank you, be here all week~ ;-)

Sooooo, anyhoo, I digress.  

From Backpack Fall 2013

Made it up to my base camp meadow after a hard slog, to say the least.  No-one else camped in sight, all chasing elk in the high country.  I made short work setting up camp, then busted back down to the foot of the meadow to sample that oh-so-sweet water I reluctantly passed on the way up. 

is this heaven?

Water was absolutely gorgeous, tho I admit I ruined most of it stubbornly casting various terrestrial attractors on top, knowing mostly I should set aside my pride and dance with the girl that brung ya.  You know, with so little fishing under my belt this summer, I just wanted to catch my fair share (on what could well be my last high country trip this season) my way.  You know what I mean? 


So yeah, I blew my chances on more than a couple pigs nosing the bottom of pools, bringing their younger brethren to hand with beetles, ants fished up top.

My way.

Fishing done, dinner was a rushed affair, dodging rain squalls as those scudding clouds gathered in strength.  While duly waiting my 8-9 minute chicken-alfredo-in-a-pouch to stew, I hunkered in the downpour, counting the seconds between flashes and those big rolling boomers crashing thru the hills.  I ducked into the tent early, finally executing the good sense to get in out of the rain.  Having brought a metric ton of nothing by way of entertainment, I drifted off, counting again as the next wave of boomers broke over my camp.

the fall backpack 2013 series:
fair warning
discovery
elk smoke
epilogue