Marston Pass to Unnamed Tarn at Continental Divide

A glorious morning near Marston Pass

We made it through another cold night without any problem and were up and about by 6:30. I didn’t know it at the time, but today would be both the best and worst of times I’d ever experienced in the backcountry, but for now it just another beautiful morning at over 10,000’.

After munching down a few PB & J wraps and dropping my daily deuce (and losing my hand sanitizer on the way back to camp), Bob and I quickly broke down camp and walked over to the knob dwellers who were in various stages of readiness. Once they got their stuff together we started back down the Lost Creek Trail and were immediately greeted by a pair of elk no more than 200’ away. They looked at us for a few seconds before deciding it might be best if they left---even though we meant them no harm. Hey, finally some wildlife though.

As usual, we didn’t have a plan for the day other than hiking a bit west to avoid having to climb what looked like a peak but In reality was nothing more than the elevated edge of the Buffalo Plateau, dropping probably 2000’ to the Shoshone River. Yeah, that was the divide but we didn’t feel the need to hike every step of the divide’s crest, or at all.

Steve hiking the Buffalo Plateau

When we finally decided to make the turn and head south we did so without really knowing where we were in relation to the many drainages originating from atop the plateau. Figuring we only needed to use the high ground of the divide as a hand rail of sorts we were soon moving considerably west of where we needed to be as we followed the path of least resistance.

As the Google Earth imagery had shown there were plenty of small tarns, a few streams and many places where one could set up camp on the plateau, though austere with little protection from the elements. The area reminded me of some photos of the Alaskan tundra and I thought how strange it was to behiking through the mountains without a tree in sight.

By late morning we had covered what seemed like 5 miles yet Younts Peak appeared to be only a couple of miles away to the north. We stopped for a short break then continued on, still not on any planned course nor checking our maps with any frequency.

Big views and wildflower explosion

Shortly after starting up again we found ourselves descending one of the many drainages down to a nice stream. Not sure where to go, we huddled up and told Reed we’d be heading straight ahead, between 2 prominent snow fields, then reconsidered our route after actually looking at the maps and using the GPS. Reed would figure it out once he got too far since he was now close to 300 yards ahead of us.

In the meantime, I’d managed to convince the rest of the group that we needed to move closer to the divide in order to avoid some potentially serious up and downs through the various drainages. For once, I was right, and we changed our vector to the southeast. Once we got over to the other side of the drainage, we discovered that Reed was nowhere to be found. Uh oh. Considering the speed in which Reed had been hiking, the dude could have been a half mile ahead of us and behind a large swale.

So, in an attempt to mitigate damages, we found a high point at which to stop and sent Steve to find him. Thanks Steve. I have to admit that our high point might have been the most scenic resting spot of the entire trip with nearly 360 degree views of the Buffalo Plateau and beyond. I took a pull from my water bottle and made a not to fill up and drink a lot at the next water source. I hadn’t even finished my first bottle of the day yet and it was after noon already. I wasn’t feeling any ill effects but knew the combination of sun and light breeze was giving me the illusion of not sweating.

Tarns on the Buffalo Plateau

Once Steve found the somewhat perturbed Reed we pow wow’ed and determined we needed to head close to a mile east toward the divide lest we cliff out. Not happy about it we marched on over the high tundra.

As it turned out, we did have some serious elevation gain and loss to deal with as we cut through 2 large drainages, but almost all over grassy slopes save for a small scree slope---which my Crocs handled with ease. As hard as we had to work, this was turning into a stellar trip.

Wide open tundra on the Buffalo Plateau

By this time, however, I was starting to feelcrappy/ dehydrated despite taking a long drink at one of the streams and thought I had tweaked an abdominal muscle on one of the uphills. Not a big deal. On our final climb of the day I was surprised to find Lee, Steve and Reed semi-crouched near the top. Once I arrived up top I figured out what they were hiding from. About ¼ mile away was a herd of perhaps 50 grazing elk. Tremendous.

The herd knew we were here and were a bit skittish but kept on eating until Bob made it up to our position. Once he had a chance to check them out we continued toward the divide, which was now about a half-mile from our current location and well north of the Elk herd. As soon as we started hiking the herd huddled together as if to protect their youg and gave us the stink eye before slowly moving away from us. It was a pretty cool thing to see.

By now it was clear to me that I wasn’t myself. In fact, I was starting to hurt and wanted nothing more than to stop for the night. We passed a few tarns which might have been OK but the ground was rocky and there was no protection whatsoever so we pushed on.

Herd of elk  on the Continental Divide

Thankfully, we found a great patch of fluffy grass near a couple of tarns just below the other side of the divide and made our way down. I felt like death and was positive it wasn’t a pulled stomach muscle but either an appendix ready to blow or a freakin’ kidney stone. I’d had a stone about 9 years before and knew I was in for a rough time if that’s what it was, but was hoping for a mild case of dehydration. I finally staggered down to what was really a great camp site and sucked water directly from my filter in hopes I’d feel better in an hour or so. We’d see. So far, I hadn’t let anyone know how much discomfort I was feeling, preferring to play it off as sore muscles and mild dehydration.

I'd spend a miserable night 5 at our camp just to the right of this tarn

Once I got my tent up, slowly, I grabbed my sleeping bag, popped 4 Motrin and tried to take a nap.

Waking an hour later, doubtful I ever really fell totally asleep, I began dry heaving, with “dry” being the operative word. Undaunted, I whipped up a quick batch of Macaroni & Cheese with pepperoni. I got it down but still felt like shit and started wondering if the others would have to send a helicopter back for me.

Walking slowly and in some serious pain by this time, I placed my bear can away from camp and went back into the tent to check the maps to, hopefully, come up with an evacuation plan. As best I could tell, we were about 20 miles from Brooks Lake Lodge via the trail and maybe 15 via the divide route I had planned. Either way, it would be a two day hike out for the others which meant I could lay here longer than that for help to arrive.

We were also very close to another trail that would drop a couple thousand feet to the Shoshone River to another trail that led toward US 287. Maybe an outfitter would be coming through and I could ride out on a mule or something?

The only thing I was certain of was that it would take me a week to hike out the 20 miles the way I was feeling. Not only was I unable to stand up straight, but my stride length was about a foot. Add the excruciating pain that almost had me in tears and I was in a pickle.

I laid awake for a few more hours, unsuccessfully trying to find a semi-comfortable sleeping position, before finally dozing off around 11. Just before 2 AM I awoke, still in pain, and popped 4 more Motrin which zonked me out until first light.

Tarptent City: 2 Contrails, 2 Moments, and a Rainbow