Wilderness Work: Reflections on Gratitude

Karlissa Skinner

Lead Wilderness Steward

Season Summary

Bitterroot National Forest | Selway – Bitteroot Wilderness

Somehow it’s already the end of September and the trail work season has come to an end for SBFC. It was not without its challenges, but ultimately my summer in the Bitterroot offered me opportunities beyond what I ever could have imagined when I started in May. From blizzards to heat waves to encroaching forest fires and everything in between, from working closely with ten people to working completely alone, this summer was full of surprises and excitement. Trail work has helped me realize that even during the most difficult (some might even say miserable) moments in the backcountry, I find myself more at peace than I have ever felt in the city. These moments allow me to practice gratitude for the rugged beauty and ecological integrity of Wilderness.

So, yes, I am grateful that my crew and I got caught in a June blizzard during our first hitch of the season and spent 17 hours straight hunkered down in our tents. Because in the morning we drank coffee in the sun on the snowy shores of an alpine lake.

A very slippery and precarious creek crossing on Sweeney Creek Trail.

I’m grateful for the steep slopes that brought tears, scratches, and bruises. Because then I had to slow down and appreciate the beauty around me.

Tea I made from plants foraged on Mill Creek Trail: thimbleberry leaves, raspberry leaves, yarrow, rosehips, pin cherries, huckleberries, serviceberries.

I’m grateful for the mosquitos and biting flies driving me to the brink of insanity. Because I woke early to the songs of birds, to sunrises reflected in lakes and waterfalls.

Waterfall sunrise at Little Rock Creek Lake.

I’m grateful for the bear who visited my camp when I was alone in my tent on a solo hitch, miles away from any other person or shelter that might make me feel safe. Because I felt like I belonged, like I was truly at home just as any other being is in the woods.

Fall colors along Boulder Lake Trail.

These moments remind me that we are still at the mercy of nature, that the Wilderness is still wild. And it is this tenacious wildness that fills me with gratitude.  

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KARLISSA SKINNER, BITTERROOT NF LEAD WILDERNESS STEWARD

Karlissa spent her summers hiking and camping around Helena, Montana. Her conservation corps experience doing trail work and living in the Frank Church-River of No Return Wilderness helped her to discover her love for the natural world and wilderness conservation. Karlissa is an avid rock climber, backpacker, and river rafter.

Lessons Learned & Backcountry Sandwiches

Jay Majersky

Nez Perce-Clearwater NF Trail Crew Leader

Hitch #2 | Mocus Point Trail #469 and #208

Nez Perce-Clearwater NF | Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness

Everyone romanticizes this job. Don't get me wrong, it's great to have the outdoors as my office; the bright skies littered with stars at night; the sweat and dirt and sunshine. I love it all. However, this job is also hard and is full of challenges.

You've got bugs, bears, blisters, burns, dehydration, exhaustion, hypothermia, the fury of the elements whether it's sun, heat, rain, snow, lightning, wind, carrying extra batteries and radios and satellite phones and rope, gear, saws and a constantly changing series of circumstances in camp and at the work site. You're watching the skies and keeping an ear glued to the radio to hear the fire weather forecast, hanging bear hangs, digging catholes, filtering water, staring at maps and coming up with plans even when you're "off the clock." This job is a lifestyle, and it never stops. 

Within all these moments I find a piece of solitude and appreciation for being so small in the forests. For example, the light patter of rain bouncing on the rainfly, butterflies, the serenades of birdsong, the babble of a mountain spring you're filling up water from underneath a grove of old growth cedar trees, or the painted sky of a summer solstice sunset. 

But really, I want to talk about this sandwich I made last week. What does this sandwich have to do with anything? I'm not sure. But I think it encapsulates something about this job I admire the most.

To pose a few questions: "What happens when you go into the backcountry and something is missing?" or "What happens when you’re in the backcountry and something goes wrong?" It's really easy to see the failure and to get caught up in it. Me? I forgot my cook set on the kitchen table the day I left for our second hitch.

Despite everything, I didn’t have a to chance to get lost in my mind and upset about something as mundane as a missing cook set. I have a crew that is there to support me and there is always some other solution to be made. I have to adapt, or I'll just be stuck having a bad time thinking about something I forgot.

Finding a solution as best as I can within that moment is what I enjoy about this job. 

I'm always having to think, and it's in these moments that I am able to look beyond the situation and tell myself,

"This could have been worse, but I did everything I could to make something new out of something I never believed was possible."

In this case, it was an open-faced ramen sandwich. And you know what? It was really good.

Open Faced Ramen Sandwich.

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JAY MAJERSKY, NEZ PERCE-CLEARWATER NF TRAIL CREW LEADER

Jay hails from Connecticut. They started doing trail work when they moved to Missoula in 2017. Jay started backpacking when they spent three months on the Appalachian Trail in 2015 and has gone on to work in nine different Wilderness areas across Idaho, Montana, and Arizona over the last six years. Having a job that allows Jay to backpack, work, and explore these wild and remote areas of America feeding their wanderlust is a surreal dream. This is Jay’s second season with SBFC.

Above and Below

“You cannot stay on the summit forever; you have to come down again. So why bother in the first place? Just this: What is above knows what is below, but what is below does not know what is above. One climbs, one sees. One descends, one sees no longer, but one has seen. There is an art of conducting oneself in the lower regions by the memory of what one saw higher up. When one can no longer see, one can at least still know.”
― Rene Daumal

One might say that it’s human nature to want what we don’t have. We long for the valleys as we sit atop a mountain, and we ponder the mountain tops as we soak our feet in the creeks and rivers of a beautiful valley. This season, my days in the field felt no exception to this theory.

As I’d hike along the banks of Marble Creek or meander the forks of Monumental, without fail, I would catch myself looking up, curious as to what might exist between myself and the most prominent peaks in the distance. Sure, the world around me was full of life and activity, but what was up there? When we would drive to the Marble Creek Trailhead, we would come to a fork in the road with the Lookout Mountain Trailhead. “Soon!” I’d remind myself.  I knew we had some projects in the near future that would allow us to explore the “up there” regions of the Frank, and I longed for them. The ridges and saddles of this remote region of Idaho would most certainly lend themselves to some lofty views. The views that make you realize exactly how small we are, and how huge this Wilderness is. And then, fire. 

Just prior to our expected hitch on Lookout Mountain Ridge, lightning moved through the area and started several fires through the Frank Church River of No Return Wilderness, and Lookout Mountain was no exception. This was natural, and even good for the ecosystem. But to our dismay, we weren’t going to be heading out to this area that had eluded us all summer. We would be flying out to Cold Meadows Guard Station to work on Runaway Ridge, a place quite far from where we had been working all summer, and a place that held the term “ridge” in the title.  The variation in scenery and work flow would be a welcome adjustment.

Fast forward to day one of hitch. We boarded our plane in McCall  and set our sights on the Cold Meadows airstrip— about 30 minutes en route. And it's on this flight that I saw the landscape in a way that I couldn’t have imagined. I saw the rivers and the valleys and the peaks and the saddles all at once. I realized that its not  any one piece of the landscape that makes this place magnificent, its every piece put together. While this may seem obvious, it felt like it was something I had been overlooking my whole life. Without one, the other doesn’t exist. Runaway Ridge certainly did lend itself to some incredible views. I saw endless drainages, a small glimpse into  Salmon River corridor, made my way to the top of several peaks and saddles. But it was also on this hitch that I felt my appreciation grow for what was under my feet, instead of longing for what was in the distance. 

View from above.

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MONICA STAPLETON, PAYETTE NF LEAD WILDERNESS STEWARD

Growing up in Wisconsin, Monica spent her younger years roaming the woods. She has worked as a canyoneering guide in Southern Utah and a conservation corps crew leader. Most recently, Monica has worked as a USFS wildland firefighter with the Payette National Forest. She is happy to start her first season with SBFC, working in the Frank Church Wilderness.

Cold and Happy

Clint Kingery

Nez Perce-Clearwater NF Lead Wilderness Steward

Three Links Creek Hitch

Aug 3-11, 2021

Nez-Perce Clearwater National Forest | Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness

A few miles north of Frisco Peak, 2019.

This past week we were told to work trail #405, so we did. When #405 was cut, cleared, brushed, and re-tread with half the hitch left, we decided to just keep on cutting up to Frisco Peak. I’ve been there a few times with a few crews and couldn’t really tell you what the view is like. My vista has always been thick clouds and icy blowing rain. Beautiful enough in its own right.

Back in 2019, weather hit as my crew was working towards Frisco. We wanted to start our way down Sixty-Two Ridge soon which meant we had to make it to Frisco on the day in question. We got the trail clear to the peak after a 14-hour day in near freezing rain. The crew got back to camp as the last cold rays of the day’s sun speared through the finally dissipating clouds. We made a little campfire to get the gear dried out before we braved our iced-over tents. Huddled around that pitiful lick of flame with my pitiful wet crew, I was happy.

Clouds breaking on the way back to camp from Frisco, 2019.

This year, weather hit on our way up towards Frisco. Rain really started coming down as one of the Wilderness Ranger Fellows and myself were pulling the saw through a little fire-toasted 30 inch log. Water flowed in thick rivulets down our now fully-permeable rain jackets. We caught up to the rest of the crew as they were on hands and knees cutting 10-foot tall brush that fully obscured whatever tread there had once been. There was plenty of cold and plenty of misery as the wind cut through the many holes of our trail-torn rain gear and rain soaked all. We were in the clouds as they grew and rolled all around us. It was all just as I knew Frisco to be and I was happy.

Clouds over Three Links Meadow, 2021.

A few days ago I was strolling along the river a bit past Renshaw Creek. There was a rock-structure that we had built back in 2018 to bridge a culvert that I wanted to check in on. It got me thinking on a close call that I had with hypothermia as April rain poured down our backs and we wallowed in the mud while building that little structure. It had been my first time in the Selway and the first time that I knew I was done trying to experience every landscape out there. The first time that I knew I had found the place that I wanted to keep coming back to. I was happy.

Selway in the cold, 2018.

I don’t think it’s the misery that makes me happy, I’m no masochist and I sure do like being warm and dry. I’m plenty happy in the Selway when I’m comfortable; no less and no more than those few experiences. The people are a part of it, but I’ve been plenty of places with plenty of people. It’s honestly not even that it’s Wilderness, I’ve been to quite a few and always liked them more than any other landscape, but there is just something special about the Selway. I guess there is no sense in trying to define it. I’m just glad that the Selway is still somewhere wild. I expect that once upon a time the Lochsa Corridor had something special about it too but that’s a thing of the past. It’s important to me that the Selway doesn’t go the way of the Lochsa. Roads and echoing motors and human-stink. I can’t imagine that myself or others could really find much happiness in that.

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CLINT KINGERY, NEZ PERCE-CLEARWATER NF LEAD WILDERNESS STEWARD

Clint grew up in Helena, Montana. He first discovered his love for Wilderness while working on trails in the Sawtooth Wilderness. He has also worked in the heart of the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness and knows the Moose Creek area well. Clint is uncompromisingly passionate about Wilderness.

Through the Fire and Flames

Tyler Keene

Wilderness Ranger Fellow

August 12, 2021

Bitterroot National Forest | Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness

What a year it has been for fires! The heatwave that has been experienced this year has been like no other and to make the situation worse there has been very little rain in Montana. Here in the Bitterroot National Forest, fires haven’t been too bad but things are starting to pick up and get more active. This last hitch my crew was supposed to go up Big Creek and clear but due to a fire we were reassigned and moved to Little Rock Creek Trail. Luckily for us this has been the only time this season we were moved due to fire.

After coming off such a bad year for fires last year, forest management has been an important discussion on many levels. Currently, I am reading The Big Burn by Timothy Egan. It is about the big burn of 1910 which ripped through three million acres and destroyed entire towns. Eighty-six people died as a result.

During that era, national forests and the idea of conservation were becoming more established. The big push was to keep the land preserved for future people to enjoy. Some threats to National Forests were logging, mining, and railroads. The Forest Service was very young and newly formed. They were doing everything they could to protect the land and keep it for the people because they believed it belonged to the people, not big businesses.

Overlooking the burn area on Sweeney Ridge Trail.

Seeing first hand just how dense some of these forests are is quite shocking. Our second hitch this season was clearing Sheafman Creek Trail. In the first three miles of trail we cleared 350 trees. That was a trail that was cleared the year before, so the downfall had happened within one year. Looking forward to the future, there is hope that increased forest management efforts will pay off. In the end the hope is that the National Forests will be healthier and that fire risk will also go down, making towns and people much safer during fire season. At SBFC, it is a part of our job to help clear and maintain our National Forests and Wilderness to not only provide access to trails, but to ensure safety for all.

Fallen trees and burn area on Sweeney Ridge Trail, which burned during the Lolo Fire of 2017.

*Please note*:

The reality of fires is complex. George Weurthner and Dominick Della Salla have been doing research on the effects of forest thinning on fire risk for years. Please take some time to read the below article to learn more about their study: https://www.oregonlive.com/wildfires/2020/10/oregons-labor-day-wildfires-raise-controversial-questions-about-how-forests-are-managed.html

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TYLER KEENE

Bitterroot National Forest | Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness

University of St. Francis

Major: Recreation and Sport Management concentrating in Outdoor Recreation

Tyler grew up in Burien, Washington and spent his childhood outdoors hiking, camping, mountain biking, hunting, fishing, and kayaking. He went to college in Joliet, Illinois and was fortunate enough to do multiple backpacking trips, backcountry canoe trips, white water rafting, rock climbing, and caving. Tyler worked with the local forest preserve for a year and worked on various restoration projects around the county. He is passionate about conservation because he firmly believes that future generations should have the same, if not better, opportunities to experience the outdoors. Tyler believes preservation and conservation practices are vital in experiencing the great outdoors!

Women in Wilderness

Meghan Rorick

Salmon-Challis Wilderness Steward

Hitch 7:  #4229 Little Pistol Creek

September 1 – 8

Boise National Forest (Admin by Salmon-Challis NF)

We are coming up on the end of our season, and it is bittersweet. Since most of the Wilderness Fellows have already left to return to school, our crew is down to two people.  Through the summer, I believe our little crew of four (Lauren Simms—our fearless leader, Antonio Angel, Thomas Neidenbach, and me) developed a great dynamic and I miss working with Antonio and Thomas. However, we picked up a new member for this hitch, Jaime Breisch from the Payette crew, and I was excited for our … GIRLS HITCH!!! 

Our task for the week was to clear trail #4229 along Little Pistol Creek starting from where an MCC crew had left off earlier this summer, as well as some campsite monitoring at Pistol Lake. After a very, very long drive from Missoula to McCall with another roughly 3 hours on gravel roads, we finally arrived at the trailhead. We camped there for the night and the next day hiked about 5 miles to what ended up being our basecamp for the rest of the trip. We discovered a lot of blow-down across the trail, and in our remaining 6 days of work (with 3 people) cleared a little over 2.5 miles and 316 trees. 

Trail #4229: Before

Trail #4229: After

And tree #316, she was a doozy. At the end of our last day of work, our plan had been to do some brushing on our way back to camp—the trail definitely needed it. Well, you know what is said about best-laid plans. We came upon a massive double-trunk (what I think was) Douglas-fir in the trail.  It took us almost two hours to cut and move this tree, but it was a satisfying end to our work day. 

Double-bucking is always interesting: Lauren and I checking the kerf of tree #316.

Jamie and I still sawing away…

Tree #316: the end result.

The next morning we hiked the 5 miles back up to the ridge and wilderness boundary, then down to the trailhead and our faithful, waiting rig—a seafoam green suburban named Murphy. 

On our drive back to town, I couldn’t help but reflect on our all-women crew and the amazing women who have worked, and continue to work, on wilderness issues.  Margaret Murie and Bethine Church, the women working for non-profits and agencies tasked with protecting and managing our public lands, and all the women that I’ve had to privilege to work for and with during my time with SBFC this summer. There are things that these women have in common—they are all incredibly strong, intelligent, resourceful, and dedicated.  Here’s to all the women in wilderness—I am humbled and honored to be a part of this awesome group. 

From left: Lauren Simms, Jaime Breisch, Meghan Rorick

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MEGHAN RORICK, SALMON-CHALLIS NF WILDERNESS STEWARD

Meghan grew up in East Texas, but had family in Missoula and fell in love with Montana at an early age. Since graduate school at University of Montana, Meghan has worked for environmental education and watershed health groups in Montana and Oregon. Meghan loves to explore trails and is excited to work for SBFC, where she can contribute to the protection and conservation of the wild places that mean so much to her.

Returning to Wilderness

Lauren Simms

Lead Wilderness Steward

Sleeping Deer Volunteer Project

July 21 - 28

Salmon-Challis National Forest | Frank Church-River of No Return Wilderness

My time in National Forests and Wilderness areas of Idaho began two years ago when I worked with SBFC as a Wilderness Ranger Fellow. This year I returned as a crew leader, with apprehension at what this job would entail and the hope that I could live up to how I looked up to my crew leader. Now the season is halfway through, and that apprehension has passed. My crew and I have come to count on one another, forging a unique bond through the constantly changing dynamic struggle of trail work. Not only is our work a continuation of a legacy of conservation, but it is also the most visceral way I know to see the growth of people’s passion for our public lands.

Early in the season, we had the pleasure of working right along the banks of the Salmon River, which afforded us all the opportunity for a cool and cleansing dip at the end of a long day. Enjoying the incredibly clear waters of the river allowed us a certain pleasure through which to bond in stark contrast to the rewarding but taxing work of clearing trails. This last hitch, our fourth as a crew, found us camping and working above 8,000 feet, making for breathtaking views of vast expanses of the Frank Church Wilderness. In addition to the great views, the elevation kept us mostly free of the wildfire smoke that lingered in the distance and awaited us upon our descent back to civilization. With the help of two volunteers, we made it up to Martin Mountain and cleared about 11 miles of trail, brushing and retreading for the sake of ourselves and future trail users.

A long day of hiking! The crew on top of Martin Mountain on trail 103 in the Salmon-Challis National Forest in the Frank Church Wilderness. Pictured from left to right are Thomas Foote, Michael Hofmann, Lauren Simms, Meghan Rorick, and Thomas Neidenbach. Photo credit to Antonio Angel and Thomas Neidenbach.

 This season has taught me about how my passion for conservation as an individual can stretch widely and affect so many people. From the volunteers and Fellows with whom I work, to people I may never meet who may use a trail my crew and I cleared; this realization drives me to continue this work. Just knowing that the conservation community is made up of such passionate people and that it is constantly growing through the work we do gives me hope that these incredible places I have come to call home will continue to be protected and maintained for public use for generations.

Volunteers and crew at Sleeping Deer Trailhead are about to start their hike into the Frank Church Wilderness on Cache Creek trail 103 in the Salmon-Challis National Forest. Pictured from left to right is Michael Hofmann, Meghan Rorick, Lauren Simms, Thomas Neidenbach, Thomas Foote, and Antonio Angel. Photo credit to Antonio Angel.

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LAUREN SIMMS

Salmon-Challis National Forest

Lead Wilderness Steward

Lauren grew up outside of Philadelphia. She found her love for trails in Yosemite, where she was a youth corps member. In 2019 Lauren served 14 weeks as a SBFC Wilderness Ranger Fellow in the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness, her first experience in capital-W Wilderness. We are very happy Lauren has returned and will be working on the SBFC Frank Church Wilderness crew.

SBFC Board Volunteer Project

Michael Wanzenried

SBFC Board Member

Warm Springs Trail | Jerry Johnson Hot Springs

Nez Perce-Clearwater National Forest

This July the SBFC Board (and family) worked with the Nez Perce-Clearwater National Forest to improve parts of the popular Warm Springs Trail into Jerry Johnson Hot Springs. Our trail crew volunteers included Board Chair Nancy Feldman and son Jonah, Executive Director Sally Ferguson, Vice Chair Jim Heidelberger, Board Secretary Carlos and Diane Diaz, Jerry Randolph, Michael Wanzenried, Deb and Gil Gale, Phil Jahn, and John and Carolyn Lloyd.

SBFC Board members and family posing in their roadside pickup PPE.

Tasked with four projects for the weekend, we met on Friday to check the first project off the list: cleaning up our adopted stretch of road along scenic Highway 12. From milepost 114 to milepost 116, volunteers bagged hub caps, beer cans, cigarette butts, bits of plastic, and the metal-infused rubbery parts of exploded truck tires. Of course, only after returning to the pullout did we realize we should have set ground rules for how to assess which groups had the most littered stretch of road. In a slight mutation of Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18: How shall we compare our littered bags? By the weight of worlds held therein? Cold road unburdened of soiled print and oily rags. Or measure each, length by height by width? 

The communal dinner that night consisted of charcuterie, chicken salad, cucumber salad and chips. As people finished up, Nancy described the bridge and retaining walls the United States Forest Service needed built on the Warm Springs Trail. The lack of exact details plus a number of cold beverages provided fuel for some on-and-off discussion, analyzing alternate scenarios, but always with the same successful outcome. 

Prepping in the parking lot.

Day two started at 9 a.m. with our Nez Perce-Clearwater National Forest Wilderness/Trails Forestry Technician and leader Alex Totoiu who clarified the day’s activities and showed us the tools and materials we would use. Our goals were to repair a step, replace a retaining wall and build a bog bridge.  Some of us would carry two long pieces of 6x6 up trail to where existing walls had failed. The boards for the bog bridge, Alex said, measured at about 9 feet long. Construction workers had cached them a mile beyond the bog beneath the stringers of a suspension bridge. Eight volunteers would hike in the two plus miles to the bridge and carry the boards back a mile to the bog.  

Taking a break on the suspension bridge.

At the trailhead, John fired up Alex’s gas-powered drill to bore holes into one of the 6x6’s. I stepped a few feet back to get away from the noise and wondered how different Jerry Johnson hot springs would be after fifteen years. I watched two mothers, open hard seltzers in hand, waving their flip-flopped children over across the highway to walk into the hot springs. Probably not much. 

Volunteers dropped the first 6x6 at a damaged step about a mile from the trailhead.  A few hundred feet from there, they set down the second 6x6. Eight volunteers continued up the trail for another mile to the suspension bridge.  The 9-foot long boards were big the way we think everyday objects must look to ants. Comical.  Absurd.  Somehow moveable. Two of the boards topped 16-feet and weighed 150 pounds. The third was 20-feet long and significantly heavier.  

One of the many boards carried throughout the weekend.

All smiles as we carried the comically sized boards through the bog.

Every 50-100 yards back to the bog we stopped to rest and check-in with each other about our hands, arms, and level of suffering. Over the course of this short and intense journey, the story Jim and I began telling each other about work done on the Warm Springs Trail in ’21 had graduated from self-effacing but heroic, to self-sacrificing and epic.

A handful of volunteers repaired the step by using the Pulaski to dig out an area to place the new step and then pound it in with rebar and back filled it with rocks. At the new retaining wall, the Pulaski was used again to place the longer 6x6.  Rock backfill and more rebar helped secure the 6x6 in place. Volunteers then dug out part of the hillside to widen the trail and used the loose earth to back fill the rocks. Further up trail, the exhausted volunteers took a few moments before switching from hauling boards to digging out saturated bog mud and vegetation.  A cedar snag Alex took down and then cut into lengths would serve as bridge supports for the boards.   

The heat and work of the day had settled into our tired bodies and dinner was quieter than the night before. Pulled pork, coleslaw and chips sated us and the glasses of wine or cans of beer sent us off to our tents early. 

Laying down planks in the bog.

Rock work.

Day two started at 9 a.m. and the step set just the day before worked perfectly. A few volunteers applied the finishing touches to the retaining wall while bog workers crushed rock and notched the logs. A tricky spot required more digging than anyone expected. Finally, the boards were nailed down and volunteers took turns walking across it.  

On the way out, we reflected on what the SBFC staff and Wilderness Fellows do on a daily basis for three months a year. Not a lot of us really appreciate the work that goes into repairing a trail where the results are obvious but the labor is all but invisible. The effort they put into projects like this go a long way towards improving public safety and strengthening the relationship SBFC has with our national forest partners, like the Nez Perce-Clearwater. 

Bog “Board” work!

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MICHAEL WANZENRIED, BOARD MEMBER - BOISE, ID

Michael Wanzenried lives in Boise but is originally from western Montana. Although he spent the first twenty-some years of his life as ‘outdoorsy,’ it was two seasons with a youth conservation corps that instilled in him a greater appreciation for being outside that went beyond recreational hiking and camping. These experiences led him to pursue a career in archaeology. Since graduating from the University of Montana, Missoula, with an MA in anthropology/archaeology in 2010, he has been conducting cultural resource investigations for private, state, and federal outfits in Montana, Idaho, Oregon, Washington, and Alaska. He is currently working in the sage-steppe desert of eastern Oregon and loving every moment

Up Whiskey Creek Without Whiskey

José (Antonio) Angel

Wilderness Ranger Fellow

August 4-11, 2021

Hitch #5 | Sulphur Creek

Salmon-Challis National Forest | Frank Church-River of No Return Wilderness

Initially our trail crew was intended to go into the North Zone of the Salmon-Challis National Forest into the Big Horn Crags region to clear trails, but due to the Mud Lick Fire we were reassigned to clear trail #4046 from Whiskey Creek Trailhead, down Sulphur Creek, and ultimately finishing approximately 13 miles down trail near Boundary Creek. Although, compared to our previous hitches, we assumed 13 miles of trail being cleared would be an attainable goal, that was not the case for this hitch.

Upon arrival to the Whiskey Creek Trail Head, we could not find the trail and spent a few hours retreading for future recreators to be able to follow the trail through the initial meadow. As we proceeded down trail #4046, we quickly realized that this hitch was going to be incredibly low in mileage.

Before….

…and After look at one section of trail. Yes much of the trail was this bad!

Ultimately, by the final day of the hitch, we had camped at the rig every night and only cleared approximately 2.5 miles of trail. In those 2.5 miles we did, however, clear 856 trees from the trail over six ten-hour workdays, cutting nearly 150 trees each day and only working down trail about .4 miles per day.

Thomas (left) and Antonio (right) using Jolene (center), the beautiful 6 ft Simonds crosscut saw, to saw through a 25” tree.

This work was incredibly exhausting. Luckily, we were able to keep morale high despite the long and hot days. Thomas, the other Salmon-Challis NF Wilderness Ranger Fellow, and I had the realization that this was our final hitch which added a hint of melancholy for how much we were going to miss the stunningly beauteous Frank Church River of No Return Wilderness. We became incredibly humbled when on our last day of work we began to see smoke billowing from down the drainage. We turned on the radio to ensure that we were in a safe location and learned the fire was only about 4 miles away. Although we were safe, I felt humbled as we cooked dinner and watch Smoke Jumpers fly overhead preparing to fight the fire.

The view from a scramble up to the ridge looking down the trail #4046 (Sulphur Creek Trail) just before a below-freezing night.

The danger of fire was a contradicting feeling in comparison to our first night of hitch when we watched a sheet of clouds move over us. Just after falling asleep a flashing of light and strong gust of wind awoke me. I ventured outside of my tent to observe a storm rolling in over the western ridge. The strong westerly winds and dark sky with flashes of lightning reminded me of the storms I grew up watching on the plains of Iowa with one main difference: on the Great Plains we do not have the howl of wind blowing through burned trees called the Death Whistle. The Death Whistle keeps me awake calling my mind to contemplate our training and the safety our meadow holds us in, out of harm's way from all widow-makers. The howl drives me to be thankful for our immediate safety but consider the possibility of, one day, a widow-maker turning me into a widowless widower.

My mind then leaped to the paradox of clouds. They appear, from a distance, to be beautiful and calm, but when inside or underneath a cumulonimbus cloud, one begins to understand the powerful force they have and the cloud signifies destruction. Although I am sorrowful to be leaving Idaho for the summer, I know I am ready and will return.

The whole S-C NF crew after finishing our last day of work together. (Left to right- Antonio Angel, Megan Rorick, Lauren Simms, and Thomas Neidenbach)

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ANTONIO ANGEL

Salmon-Challis National Forest | Frank Church-River of No Return Wilderness

Creighton University

Major: Environmental Science concentrating in Organismal/Population Ecology and Environmental Policy & Society | Minor: Spanish

Antonio grew up on a small farm in Van Meter, Iowa surrounded by nature. In 2018 he traveled out west on an SBFC IDAWA trek to the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness Area. Although he has always loved the outdoors, his IDAWA trip inspired him to become an avid supporter of public lands and wilderness. Wilderness is important to Jose because it is where he feels most complete, and he hopes others can find who they are through the outdoors as well.

Moments in the Mountains

Parker DePond

Wilderness Ranger Fellow

Payette National Forest | Frank Church River of No Return Wilderness

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PARKER DEPOND

Payette National Forest | Frank Church-River of No Return Wilderness

Iowa State University

Major: Animal Ecology

Parker grew up among the corn mazes in Iowa and is currently studying Animal Ecology at Iowa State University. He grew a deep affection for the mountains when he went on an SBFC IDAWA trip into the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness in high school. Parker has spent time hiking 140 miles of the PCT, exploring the mountains in Colorado, and adventuring in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness of Minnesota and southern Canada. This is where he learned what wilderness was, what true camping was, and what family was all about. He is excited and humbled to spend this season with SBFC.