The Dead Forest

The morning alarm goes off at 7:45. Time to wake up and get Ella off to school. Normally I would be getting ready for work afterwards, but I requested some days off to help drive my dad to Utah for a speaking gig he had. Unfortunately, due to his increase of care needed, my seat got bumped for a hired nurse. So I decided to use the time to go camping. There was some recent turbulence and change in home life the past few days, so this is a good time to de-stress in the woods.

I mosey about getting ready and grab the adventure corgi like a suitcase and head out the door. Due to a suggestion from Ella, I decided the Sawtooths was a good spot. So Mystic and I were Stanley Lake bound. This is a special spot for me — it's where we had spread my grandma's ashes a few years back. I just had a few defining days concerning my direction in life, so I was hoping to get some good advice from my grandma and nature.

With our destination plugged into the GPS, my mighty adventure corgi and I head up Hwy 21. She was so good, up until we pass Idaho City. She felt much more safe and secure walking and jumping on my lap, licking my face and rolling down my window and almost falling out when I'm trying to navigate the winding roads of the Boise National Forest. It was a challenge, and a dangerous one at that. I pull over and let her roam a bit hoping it would calm her down. It did not. So the second half of the drive was trying to juggle a corgi, drive the van, not swerve, and enjoy the scenery. I was able to juggle all of this. A first for me. Hilarious nonetheless.

After all of the dog acrobatics, we finally turn onto the road to Stanley Lake. There was a big fire in the area last summer, and seeing the char on some trees and the new growth on others had a destructive beauty to it. We get to Stanley Lake campground and it is closed still — there is still some snow here in places, so the Forest Service doesn't open certain spots until official camping season. Too cold to paddleboard up here anyways.

We pull out and up the way to my grandma's rest site. The trail we had once used was now overgrown with springtime magic and shrubbery. High-stepping past the poky bushes, I laughed while remembering me and my brother lugging an auger through this area to dig a hole for the tree and flowers that we planted alongside grandma so she could help them grow. We got to the site and there it was — our little memorial, the memory stone still set firmly in ground. The tree hadn't survived, and another tree had fallen over the area, but the flowers were blooming and gorgeous. After moving the fallen tree, I had a good conversation with my guides and grandma. Then it was time to keep moving.

We drive back, turning on to the dirt roads that lead to the clearing before the lake. We go in pretty deep until we find the best spot for all of the shenanigans I have planned. After setting up camp and making sure Mystic knew her boundaries, we enjoyed some tomato bisque soup with crackers.

A bit after 7pm now. The light drizzle of rain kept me on alert. But the fire, music, and a fluffy companion made it a comfortable night. I decide on an early night. We open up the van and rest with the doors open until it was time for sleep to take us to the dreamscape. Unfortunately, I had forgotten my heater. Shivering, trying to make a blanket cocoon, I enjoyed some music and a Poptart with a beer. It was a good recipe for a great night's sleep.

I woke up at 11am. I have no idea how the corgi slept as long as I did. I mosey about stretching and preparing some instant coffee sludge water. Not the best without creamer, but its thick syrupy texture sure does the trick. I light a fire and write for a bit.

Just as I started to get a bit restless at the campsite, I look over at Mystic who is upset at me for not bringing better chew toys, and we lock eyes. It was time for an adventure. I change clothes and put on my hiking boots. We load up in the van after I pack a good hiking bag.

We get back to Elk Mountain Road and follow it to where it turns into a dirt parking lot. I am prepared — bag, snacks, water, and an adventure corgi. At the trailhead I put my information on the register sheet. We are off. At first I let Mystic off of her leash. She loves it. Scampering, frolicking, bounding in the fields, it was adorable.

I tell her to stay close as the path opened up into an open meadow. I tell her to not run too far ahead or a bird might get her. As a dog, I doubt she understood those words. But then, just as I said that out loud, a large bird comes flying overhead and squawks four times. Tail down, she scurries right up to my legs shaking in fear. She nudges her leash in my hand and I rehook it to her collar. She nervously starts walking forward and was on her best behavior for the rest of the hike. I laughed and thanked the universe for its timing.

Due to last summer's fire, most of this once beautiful and thriving forest was now charred dead wood. Walking through it was a bit painful, but I could see some of the new growth, so it had its beauty. Looking around, sadness turned a bit. I got excited — look at all of this material the area has to feed off of and build into something beautiful again. I'm excited to see it in a year or two.

There are fallen trees in several parts of the path. It was cute watching the very low-to-the-ground adventure corgi try to navigate some of this. I had to carry her past some that were a bit above her jumping capabilities, but she did good. This is a pretty big haul for an 8-month-old puppy. She shook her fear after we got to the base of the mountain. Now leading the way, Mystic is prancing up the mountain trail.

At one hour and fifteen minutes of hiking time, we approach a river. The trail is cut in half by a shallow but powerful stream. We don't have a choice — it's time to get cold. I change from boots and jeans to shorts and flip-flops. I lift my suitcase-sized puppo and take the first step into the river. Twas a bit chilly. A deceivingly strong current. We got to the other side and I took a quick video of this not-so-great accomplishment.

About a minute into the trail on this side it turned to snow pack. Still traversable, but the first time my foot broke through the top snow and sank into the cold, I thought it was time to put the boots back on. Pips absolutely loves the snow. Next-level excitement exploding from her as she was running back and forth and pouncing into the snow bank.

After some appreciation put towards the mountain, we turned back. An hour and a half back to the van. I found a charred log sturdy enough to hold me and the dog. With a squirming corgi in hand, I balance across this log in hopes of avoiding plunging back into the stream. Success. Try as she might, Mystic was unable to fell me unto the river.

On the way back she was pulling on her leash — apparently I was moving too slow. So I unhooked her and let her free roam. She learned a lot quick. She stayed close, and the parts where she needed help with before, she tackled like a champ. Marking into the register book on the way back, Mystic was almost galloping with her head high. She looked happy and proud.

Back at the van, she jumped straight into the front seat. I expected her to lay down, but she was pumped. Tongue out, head out the window.

It's still a bit early, so I start a side quest to find more firewood. We scavenge nearby spots. I found a full log at one of the sites. A few months back my work gifted me a horror movie weapon — a home made farm implement of some nature. It looks scary. I love it. But as it happens, it's head is the perfect angle to sink into a log and then you can use it as a handle to carry it. So lifting one piece of wood while dragging the larger one behind me with my whatchamacallit, Mystic trails behind me back to the site.

I start crafting my early fire and put on some tunes. It was a mighty fine flame. At this point the pup is passed out in the van under a blanket, tired from her hike. No canned soup tonight. I make an amazing concoction of diced steak and pearl onions. For a bit of extra pizzazz I add some shredded cheese to the finished product. Dangos, that was tasty. Mystic woke up from a dead sleep halfway through me cooking and was begging for some steak the entire time. She got a few pieces because of how much she surprised me today with her stamina.

I snap back and get up to grab a beer. Time to go through my spiritual binders. I keep records and notes of information gained through meditation, practice, and life. It had been a while since I reviewed a lot of it. I put out my beautiful fire and gather some snacks. I arrange for a comfy night. I prepare the van and make sure Pips has what she needs. I close up and get warm under my comforter. I begin to open up all of my binders of info. It felt good to revisit this stuff.

In the middle of the night, I hear one of the most terrifying things one could ever hear while sleeping in a van. I'm startled awake by the sound of Mystic puking in the corner of the bed. I awake just in time to see her get it out. Fuuuuuuuck. After a bit of cleanup, and watching Pips eat everything that I missed, it was time to go back to sleep. Luckily it was still freezing so I didn't have enough energy to do anything except get warm and drift off again.

I wake up at 9am this time around. A much better wake up time than yesterday. I lazily lay in bed with the door open to catch the sun beaming through the trees. This is the day I must return home, but that doesn't mean the adventure is over.

I get a spurt of energy and an idea — I'm stopping at Kirkham on the way home. I get up and start deconstruction of my humble little spot. It only takes a bit of time, and I can tell that Mystic is excited to get on the road. After a double check around the site, we load up and get going.

Driving back on the highway was gorgeous. We left just in time as it starts to rain and hail about three minutes into our drive. Looking into the ravines, watching the river rage over the rocks with the rain coming down was a beautiful, powerful sight. After we broke out of the worst part of the storm, the light rain made it a relaxing drive to Kirkham.

We get to the bridge. It's packed. So many cars. I get Mystic prepared and we start off on foot across the bridge. Kirkham is a day use spot and right now the parking lot is under construction. But the springs are still open. We walk through the torn up recreation site.

The pools to the left are unused — probably because they are so exposed. I realize I'm not going to get to relax in the main springs because Mystic can't be trusted on a cliff by a river just yet. So we take the hiking trail up instead of the rocks down. We hike up the path and I see an adorable little rodent yelling on a rock. With no help from Pips, I'm able to get a few pictures. We continue forward and then down a bit and I discover two pools here that I hadn't seen before. I sat in the larger of the two for a minute before Mystic made it clear that she was done and wanted to go.

Pips jumps into the car and sits waiting for me to get situated. Head clear, corgi trained (ish), I start the van and head home.