North Fork Meadows to Somewhere Along the North Fork

Since none of us had gotten eaten by bears we’d taken all those annoying food precautions for, nor was anyone trampled by the herd of pack animals next door, we all woke up in one piece the next morning. There was some light fog hanging over the Buffalo, but that would disappear once the sun made it over the ridge directly behind us.

Light fog lifting over the Buffalo River as seen from our camp site.

I decided to combine the retrieval of the bear can with my first backcountry poo for the year. While I knew I was going to hate lugging the bear can to and from each camp during the trip, I was grateful we were in a river valley where a cat hole was easy to dig.

The wranglers had moved out many of the pack animals just before dawn so the morning ringing of the cowbells was not as impressive as it might have been, but was still annoying after hearing them much of the night. The children were awake and making noise so I was glad that we’d be spending 5 or 6 nights above the tree line where no outfitter with clients would dare tread. Or at least I hoped.

Making another crossing of the Buffalo

I think we were all ready to get out of there quickly so we packed up our wet tents and were on our way shortly after 8:00.

Instead of making an immediate crossing of the Buffalo to get on the official trail Reed, taking the lead, decided to stay on a decent outfitters path and hopefully cross somewhere that wasn’t so boggy. I was good with this knowing that the trail would likely follow the river but would be pissed if it took us up to one of a few small lakes, away from the Buffalo. As far as I knew, Reed had no idea exactly what our route was but as long as we didn’t get too far away from the river we’d be good.

There were not a lot of views from our side of the river but the lightly used trail was welcome after yesterday’s super highway-like multiple tracks.


After an hour the five of us were pretty well spread out with Bob and I bringing up the rear: Bob because he’s old, me because I was trying not to leave Bob in my dust ha ha . Thus far, we had no views to speak of, hiking through fairly dense forest.

A couple of hours after beginning we all met up at the first of three outfitters camps we’d stumble across during the day. This one was a beauty----complete with PVC piping leading from the main camp to bank of the Buffalo. A shower drain, perhaps, or something more sinister? Regardless, I was a bit taken aback by the sight of it.

It was also here where we had our first real crossing of the Buffalo, but first we’d have to make our way down 40 near vertical feet of loose rock and sand. Surprisingly enough, this would be the sketchiest section of the entire trip.

Once we all made it down the knee-deep crossing was easy and felt great on my feet. Since we’d been hiking for 2 hours we decided to take a break on the other side.

Looking at the east-facing wall of the Buffalo Plateau.

Back on what was now the official trail we continued along the Buffalo, passing a smaller outfitters camp, and through a few nice meadows until it was time for lunch---at another outfitters camp. The hiking had been ridiculously easy up to this point but for my blister. I applied more moleskin in hopes that it would help then walked down to the river to get more water.

When I got back another horse party was just passing through and my eyes were instantly drawn to a very cute wrangler wearing a purple shirt over a white tank top. Very nice and infinitely more attractive than anyone else in the group.

By this time my blistered heels were a cause of great concern and I began thinking about the possibility of bailing--- as Reed had pondered the year before with his mangled heels. Reed even donated an extra pair of his liners to see if that would help since the multiple attempts using duct tape, moleskin and band aids wasn’t helping. Every step hurt in a stinging sort of way to the point that I’d stop and kick both toes into the ground to free my heels up from rubbing the back of my shoes. This would only work for 6 or 8 steps, however, and I was getting pissed.

I was still hiking faster than Bob and decided to wait for him so that I could tell him I was thinking of bailing out via the Soda Fork trail the next day. It would still mean another 3 days of hiking and a significant climb to get up to the Buffalo Plateau, which I didn’t want to miss, with raw heels but it seemed better than doing 6 more days considering the shape my feet were in.

Once Bob caught up we started to talk about how much this trip sucked for various reasons. Feeling he was slowing us all down Bob declared that he was also thinking about bailing early so that he could live his fantasy of hiking and spending time in the wilderness alone like his idol Dick Proenicke (INSERT LINK)
and then pick us up at Brooks Lake.

I have to admit to liking his plan as I didn’t think it was wise for either of us to be hiking through alleged bear country alone. We agreed to let the others know of our idea---whenever we caught up with them.

Our first glimpse at our second night's camp

We were now getting closer to the Buffalo Plateau with it’s huge vertical face looming in the distance, perhaps 3 miles east. Once we got to the wall it would be decision time: follow the trail up the North Fork or bushwhack a smaller drainage up to Tri-County Lake. The forest was looking quite thick where we were so I doubted we’d try to get up to the lake. Besides, the moleskin wasn’t working as I had hoped and I really didn’t have any desire to put it through a nasty bushwhack. Still, it was a lake, a rarity in the Teton, and I like lakes.

The hiking continued to be easy, through some more meadows and a few minor stream crossings. We leap frogged the purple wrangler’s group, allowing us all another look at the hot wrangler as we pressed on. Once we left the meadows the drainage began to close in and ascend at a bit steeper rate. Having already hiked about 9 miles I was starting to get the urge to find a place to stop for the night. Though the blisters was bothering me, I didn’t want to do too many miles or we’d run out of “route”. Bob, as I later found out was having a difficult time of it as well. I’d planned this trip to be easier with 7-8 mile days but we had done 10 yesterday and 9 already today.

Just when I was starting to get pissy I got a clear glimpse of a beautiful patch of flat grass through the trees along the opposite bank of the Buffalo. I didn’t care what the others wanted to do: THAT is where I was going to spend the night. As we worked our way closer to the river we caught up with the others changing into their water shoes, announcing that they were also done and were going to camp once across.

Once on the other side, with a piece of land claimed for my tent, I’d remembered Bob was a few minutes behind and wondered if he’d be able to find us. Like Mantracker, Bob was up to the task and already in the water.

Our site was much better than last night’s but still fairly average for the area, bordering on illegal once we discovered the river actually bent behind us on a foray for firewood. Bob and I had scoped out a place about a mile and a half further up the drainage from a Panarmio photo, but that would have to wait for another time. Still, our present site offered some shelter from any storm and easy access to the river for washing some clothes which had become soaked with sweat and dust over the past two days. My blister-producing Merrell’s were also caked with mud and horse dung and were in need of a good washing as well. Not a word was said about the Tri-County Lake bushwhack

After dinner we set about finding enough firewood to last us the night---or at least long enough to dry my shoes. This was an easy task and we soon had more than enough fuel for the fire. I carefully dug out a fire pit and soon we were all sitting around another smoky bug-free zone as the face of the Buffalo Plateau changed colors in the setting sun.

Camp 2

With everyone was gathered around Bob told the group his thoughts about continuing on a different route solo. I personally didn’t want Bob to bail if at all possible since this might be his one chance to experience the mountains and felt he might end up regretting his decision forever. Reed didn’t want him to leave and offered to take more frequent breaks. It was Steve, who Bob had barely talked to that convinced him to stick it out. Steve, who had already been away from home for 2+ weeks, talked about maybe hiking out with Bob for both safety and personal reasons. Bob, ever the considerate one, wasn’t going to be the guy who made it possible for another to cut the trip short and decided to stick it out.

As for me, I still didn’t know what to do. Though I would later discover I was a crappy navigator on the featureless Buffalo Plateau, I was the one with 95% of the knowledge of the area and knew all of the bailout points. In the end, I knew I had to suck it up and continue.

That settled, we hung out around the fire until well after dark

Tomorrow would be a good day as we’d leave the trees behind us and get up to the Continental Divide and some wide open views.