“No man ever steps in the same river twice. For it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.” Heraclitus
I was excited for this trip, and more than a little anxious. The question that haunted me was, “Can I ever go back to the same place again?”
Two years ago, my brother Rick and I hiked this trail. He wanted to backpack in the western mountains. I asked for suggestions on social media. The overwhelming recommend was “The Wind River Range!”
So, I began researching. Knowing nothing, I watched Brian DeLay’s video on YouTube. He spoke of key landmarks such as Big Sandy Lake, Lonesome Lake, and Dad’s Lake, Jackass Pass, Texas Pass, and the indescribable Cirque of the Towers. Still, I had no idea how to find the trails to these places. No maps were available. So, I downloaded the Wyoming portion of the Continental Divide Trail. Found were the CDT transited this area. Then I added waypoints to each landmark the Brian mentioned and twalla I had a map!
Rick and I used this route for our first visit. Now we wanted to use it again, but hike in the opposite direction for some variety.
You must understand the drive to the trailhead is as rugged as the trail itself. Leaving Pinedale, Wyoming, we drove over 50 miles, and the pavement ends. The dirt road wasn’t too bad at first. Then it became rough for the final seven miles. It took at least thirty minutes to dodge rocks, ruts, holes, and other obstacles. Praying that we wouldn’t meet another car coming towards us.
During our first visit, we were totally alone. We met 6 people during the entire hike. This time, the trailhead parking area was overflowing with cars. We met over 100 hikers who were backpacking the area. They were at all levels of physical condition; young and fit to, well old and fat. We fell into the middle of the pack – old but in reasonable condition (for our age). The area was familiar, but it was very different.
Rick and I donned our backpacks and started north from the trail junction and onto the Continental Divide Trail. This was different too. A major wind storm had blown down scores of cypress trees two years ago. The trail was nearly impassable. In one section we had to crawl on our hands and knees for a quarter of a mile or more. The remnants of that damage was visible still, but the maintenance crews had cut and cleared the trail. Now we walked on clear trails, benefactors of their hard work. How many others walked this path with no idea of the labor that had been demanded to give us these beauties?
As we walked, I realized that we were ascending. No longer distracted by the fallen trees, I became conscious of the physical demands of this trail. We were at about 9,000 feet above sea level. The air was thinner than either of us were accustomed to it, but we had a lot of elevation ahead of us. Eventually we would ascend through Texas Pass at 11,500 feet, but that was still a day away.
This first day was an 11-mile trek that included hiking a small piece of the CDT before turning alongside the Washakie Creek to Shadow Lake. This would be our tent-site at the end of Day One. Shadow Lake was beautiful. Its pristine waters were so very clear. A feeder stream offered wonderful tasting waters for resupply. Tempted to just drink from the flowing stream, I filtered the cold water to prepare for dinner.
We were not alone here. There was a group of guys tenting beside us. Good folks, but they talked well into the night. Other hikers swam in the lake, though I don’t know how they could take the cold water. Again, the views were familiar, but the trail was very different. More like my experience hiking through the Smoky Mountains last year than the solitude of the Winds two years ago.
In the night, the rains came but I really don’t remember that at all. I closed my eyes and slept well.
Early the next morning, we packed our gear, ate breakfast, I drank my mandatory cup of coffee, and we stepped off on the trail for another day of adventure. The major landmark of this day was the intimidating Texas Pass.
Day Two – this may be a tale of two lakes. We left Shadow Lake at daybreak. The trail wasn’t bad, but I could feel that we were going higher. This was really the day that I had looked forward to experiencing again. My favorite place on this trail, really my favorite place on any trail I have hiked, was Lonesome Lake. It was this lake where we had pitched our tents at the very base of the Cirque of the Towers. I remember retrieving our foods bags from a tree line, turning back to our tentsite and being stopped by the view before me. The Cirque of the Towers are five mountains, each more than 12,000 feet tall, standing shoulder-to-shoulder in a semicircle. It is like glimpsing God’s glory itself. Sort of like He is showing off. It made me laugh and cry at the same time. I guess this is the best described as awe. This view was why I wanted to return. What would it be like this time? Would I be awed again, or have I been somehow dulled? I was sure that it would be pretty, but would it be breathtaking? Would I be disappointed? Can I go back again?
Well, there was a big problem that stood between me and my desire to see this place again. That problem was Texas Pass! The last time we had gone through Jackass Pass first. That had been a confidence builder. This time we would have to make it through the 11,500 foot tall Texas Pass first.
I remembered the descent from the pass’s summit was steep and covered with loose rock. I had slipped an fallen hard back then. This time we were going up those slopes and combining a slow pace with many rest breaks, we made it to the top.
Last time it was cold and the wind was blowing hard. I braced for the cold by putting on my fleece hoodie. We arrived to a beautiful warm day and I quickly took off hoodie and shirt. Standing at the weathered summit sign, we took pictures, spoke with several of the others who basked in this accomplishment.
We met a group of two families who have been hiking together for the past 8 years. Their children were already accomplished hikers. They were wonderful folks. I’ve often said that the people make the trail. I enjoy solitude, but I value good people. One of the mom’s has a YouTube channel. I subscribed to enjoy her videos. It’s called, “Kasha Lu” and you should check it out too. Then I just kicked back for a rest before the long climb down the back side of the pass. I can’t imagine the old pioneers and explorers climbing up and down these mountains in rawhide clothes and handmade boots.
After we rested enough to be able to breath again, we started downward toward Lonesome Lake. First we have to walk across a broad snow patch. The distant sound of thunder reminded us that weather is unpredictable in the mountains.
Sometimes we pick our tent site, and sometimes the site picks us. This was one of those times. Rick and I found some nearly level ground near a feeder stream to Lonesome Lake. We quickly pitched our tents, threw our gear inside, crawled in just as the storm hit. Wind, driving rain, hail, and lightning welcomed us to the end of our second day. It wasn’t what I had longed for, but our tents protected us from the elements.
After a couple of hours, the storm moved on and the sun warmed up the meadow. I crawled out to look around and saw the site that I had dreamed of for the past two years. It wasn’t exactly the same. It wasn’t the same River. I wasn’t the same man. Suddenly, I realized that I was asking the wrong question. I wondered if I could ever go back. The better question was (and is) “Can I still be awed by these views?”
The Cirque stood there as it has stood from creation. The lake acted like a mirror, reflecting the trees, mountains, and sky. Duplicating the beauty that rose above onto the surface of the water. It wasn’t the same, but it was by no means any less mesmerizing. It’s beautiful!
That night, I slept again. Very content I dreamed, but can’t remember what those dreams were about I was at peace. The trails fill me with a peaceful healing that I find nowhere else.
On the third day we woke again. Part of me wanted to linger here. Another part wanted to push on toward the next big challenge. Jackass Pass is smaller than Texas Pass. It’s a thousand feet shorter at only 10,500 feet. What it lacked in height, Jackass Pass made up in sheer ruggedness. It’s hard! We had to grind our way up to the top. Resting often, I tried to catch my breath. The thin air made this a hard exercise. Eventually, we saw the wooden sign at the top of the pass. This sign wasn’t as weathered as its counterpart on Texas Pass. It was a great place for some photos and to realize the pass is aptly named. Who else would climb up here?
Going down, I tried to follow the rock cairns marking the “trail” through here. Well, I must have geed when I should have hawed. Suddenly, the trail ended at the beginning of a huge pile of large granite boulders. Rick and I looked for a sign of some path. I didn’t see anything. Soon another hiker, a much younger hiker, came along and just walked across the boulders at a level below our perch. I scrambled down to where he had been, and there were cairns where I had not seen them before. The path was there, but scary. This was by far to hardest part of the trail.
On this section I learned something about myself. I had lost a lot of confidence when I fell in similar boulders in Pennsylvania. Hiking the Pennsylvania section of the Appalachian Trail with Rick, I fell at a place called the Knife’s Edge. My face was cut badly and both eyes were blackened, but I quickly healed physically. Now I realized the greater injury was to my confidence in my balance. In Pennsylvania, I had fallen a few feet. Here a fall could be 50 feet or more.
Slowly, I picked a path from boulder to boulder. Grasping rocks that protruded from the mountain face, and squeezing around tight corners to connect with another series of boulders. This went on the about a quarter of a mile. We kept boulder hopping all the way down to Big Sandy Lake. It was tiring and hard, but this particular section was the worse.
Meeting other hikers who were going up as we were going down, I thought it was getting too late in the day for them to be doing this. Why did they wait so long? There was a group of young ladies who carried climbing ropes and helmets. They were laughing, full of energy and excitement. They would do well. Others appeared less capable. I was concerned for them. Several spoke among themselves before turning back. Both sad for their disappointment and relieved for their safety, we gave some encouraging words and offered alternative trails they might explore.
We got to Big Sandy Lake. Last time, Rick and I had pitched our tents along the eastern shore of the lake. No one else was in sight. This time, that spot looked like a tent city. We guess that we met over one hundred hikers during this trip. Last time we had met four. This was a very different experience.
I suggested that we hike past Big Sandy to a less popular Diamond Lake a couple of miles farther down the trail. As we were going, the deep voice of thunder rumbled again. I saw a promising spot just off trail behind a tree line. We found two flat spots and used this as a stealth tent site. Just as we pitched our tents, the rain came and we were blessed once again. It was our final night on our return visit. Different, but as wonderful as my first experience.
The final day was a four-mile walk on a fairly good path. There was one final site that I hoped to find again. During our first visit here, Rick had to go back to his truck after we had hiked a couple of miles from the trailhead. I had waited with our backpacks. During that time there was a specific view that I had recorded through the spruce trees, across the Big Sandy Creek, up to the mountains in the distance. Not as beautiful as the Cirque of the Towers, but a wonderful reward in its own rite. I wanted to see it again.
We walked and I kept looking over my shoulder, but never seeing the scene I longed to see. We walked along the creek and I saw what I though may have been the site. It was not exact, but beautiful still. Something was different. Perhaps my memory just didn’t have it right. Maybe the trees had grown and altered the view. Whatever, I took my camera and tried to recreate the video, before we moved on.
Disappointed, I gave up and said to myself, “It’s okay, I have had a great time.” I really had enjoyed this trip. Just then I turned and there was the spot! The sun was bright shining through the trees. A couple of young trees stood tall now and altered the view slightly, but this was it. A great conclusion to a great adventure. Fully satisfied, we walked on toward the trail head.
In the last couple of miles, Rick and I met a couple of Rangers riding horses and each leading a couple of mules. The lady Ranger said they were going to setup some water quality monitors on a couple of the lakes. Later we met another Ranger who carried a cross saw and an ax. I assumed he was going to take care of the only blow down that we had encountered this entire trip. We thanked them all for caring for this treasured place. I sometimes wish I had known about the many opportunities of the National Park Service. But not really. I am very satisfied with my life. My family. My own military service, and ministry, and the opportunity to hike these trails and share these stories.
So, stay safe. Stay healthy. Stay on the path! God bless.