Trip report from 1997

I posted this trip report on our old family webpage. Believe it or not, it is still out there. You can find it at http://pages.prodigy.net/buzzards . I thougth with the demise of prodigy a few years back, those pages would be orphaned, but even though you can no longer find it through Google, if you know the URL, the state of our family in the late 1990's is still on display. Anyway, here is the old essay:

Dad and BJ's Excellent Adventure
Or, a trip report-Yellowstone Drainage, Uinta Mountains, Utah August 18-26, 1997

Note: Because my hiking companion and handsome son Brian is also a 16-year old non-verbal autistic, this trip report may be a little different than most. While the essence of backpacking is the same for all of us, certain aspects of the experience are different when hiking with a companion who has limited cognitive abilities. This account reflects our experience, and as such, may seem a tad weird to those who have not had similar experiences. The intent is not to be crude or offend, but to accuratly depict a week in the high country with Brian. By way of background, the Uinta Mountains are located in the northeast corner of Utah. They are true alpine mountains, ranging to over 13,000 feet altitude. Our entire hike was spent between 10,400 and 12,000 feet.elevation.
DAY ONE: Left my mother in law's at 6:30 am. Arrived at the Center Park trailhead 35 miles north of Duschene, Utah at 8:45 am. The last stretch of road up Hells Canyon was supposed to be very rough, almost 4WD reccomended, but had been recently graded and was no problem at all. The first few miles of trail were through a combination of second-growth open forest and open park-like shortgrass meadows which we shared with several bovine companions. Easy walking, though. All that changed just beyond the wilderness boundary. The trail turned rocky and moderately uphill, and which gave Brian all kinds of problems. Not so much the uphill, but the bouldery scrambling slowed his progress to a crawl. After a 400-foot climb, we topped out above timberline to spectacular views both across the canyon, and north to our eventual goal. When we started dropping down into Swasey Hole, the slow progess returned as the trail cut right across a boulder field. As we worked our way across Swasey, it became evident that we might not make our first day goal of Spider Lake. Another slow rocky taverse around the ridge into Garfield Basin confirmed it. We camped beside a small stream just inside the basin, having taken 10+ hours to cover 91/2 trail miles. Brian was obviously tired, and might have been suffering from the altitude-hard to tell with a kid who doesnt talk.DAY TWO: After seeing the difficulties that Brain had had the previous day, I abandoned our previous plans of a distance hike up to the head of the Yellowstone Drainage, then over the Porcupine Pass into Upper Lake Fork to see one of the most remote spots in the Uintas. I guess we are remote enough here, and crowding was not a problem-all week, there were a total of four groups in the entire Garfield Basin, and we were the only ones not on horseback. Having decided that, we ate a big breakfast, and moseyed up the trail about 21/2 miles to the largest lake in the Basin-Five Points Lake. Upon arriving, we discovered it was, in fact, partially a resevoir, complete with earthen dam and concrete spillway-and a dozen miles from any road(!). But it was also a very nice place to set up a base camp to explore the Basin, with plenty of campsites up in the trees to the south and west of the lake. I chose a spot well back from the lake, where I thought the mosquitos would be less. (wrong). We spent the rest of the day setting up camp, walking along the lakeshore-one of Brians favorite activities-and I tried my hand at fishing (no luck).DAY THREE: Up early, I packed a daypack with lunch, camera, fishing gear, and of course, our raincoats, as well as map and compass. After breakfast, we headed along our original route towards upper Garfield Basin. As soon as we left Five Point Lake, we broke out into incredible above-timberline alpine country. No bare rocks here, all was green and open, with generous displays of wildflowers-mostly small, such as Asters, Bluebells, and Buttercups, with an occasional red lupine. Creeks flowed from every direction from the high peaks around us as we worked our way around Superior Lake. As we neared Tungsten Lake, I spotted an unnatural-looking rock sitting on the top of the moraine. It just did not match the grey and rust of the other boulders. Upon close inspection, the "rock" turned out to be a fluffy baby blue bath towel, left to dry by the lake. If someone had been taking a swim, I do not envy them, as the lake appeared to be filled directly from snowmelt, and at over 11,000 feet, would be more likely to induce hypothermia than refreshment. From Tunsgsten, we headed up the trail to North Star. Freed of his pack, Brian seemed much more lively, and certainly covered more ground. He would run ahead on the trail, then stop and wait for me while flapping his arms. At North Star, with not so much as a bush in sight, I was surprised-and irritated-to find a well-used fire ring. Where they got the wood I'll never know. Saw some big Cuttthroat Trout swimming within a few feet of the shore, but in what was becoming a trend, couldn't get a nibble. From North Star, we left the trail, looping generally back towards camp cross country, just enjoying the scenery and fishing the small pothole lakes-you guessed it, not a bite. We did detour up to a low spot on the main ridge, and I stared straight down 1,500 feet into the Lake Fork Basin. What a sight! Open alpine meadows, crisscrossed with winding ribbons of streams. Lambert Lake, our original destination, looked like a small blue puddle tucked at the very head of the basin. Big bare rust-red mountains, and not a sign of man to be seen. I have got to get in there someday, though I do not know how or when. This trip was probably my best shot, since upper Lake Fork is a long approach from any direction, and I do not come to Utah every year by a long shot. That is the problem with backpacking. So many trips, only one life. I hope God allows backpacking in heaven, its the only way I'll get to all the places I want to go. The view from that gap in the divide *almost* made up for it, however. As we picked our way down the mountain, the weeks first thunderstorm caught us out in the open. Brian actually seemed to enjoy the rain and hail. I was pretty nervous about the lightning until we got down to treeline. Saw lots of Deer and marmots, a ptarmitigan (sp.?), several quail, and evidence (read:droppings) of mountain goats. It stormed on and off all evening and most of the night. I did manage to solve on this trip one of the more troublesome problems that I have had over the years on extended trips with Brian. Without going into the gritty details, lets just say that the solution involved a travel pack of daiper wipes and glycerin suppositories. Just thought I'd throw that in there. :-) DAY FOUR: Rained most of the morning, so we ate a cold breakfast in our tent. Brian takes to being tent-bound very well. While I read or look at maps, he just curls up in his sleeping bag and wraps a coat around his head. It seems to make him feel secure or something, but he can happily maintain this position for hours, occaisionally napping, but usually just breathing deep and letting off a random bellow from time to time. When the rain let up around 10:30, we just headed out again, this time staying within a mile or two of Five Point, since the weather was threatening. Just rambled and gazed and tried to match wildflowers to the Audobon book. Ate lunch around one, then headed back, just beating another big thunder-bumper back to camp. The rain cleared off about five, so I tried to fish again(you would think I'd learn), while Brian just wandered around camp up the hill from me. Suddenly I realized I couldn't hear him anymore. Jogged up the slope to camp-no Brian! The thought of Brian lost was completely frightening, as dark was only a few hours away. Just as I was starting to really worry, I noticed the tent flap was pulled back where Brian had dived in and sacked out. Whew! Brian slept the rest of the evening, not even stirring when I pulled his boots off and stuffed his feet in his sleeping bag about nine. Around midnight, he did wake up for a few minutes, so I had him stand in the tent doorway and well, "go" into the night and the rain. Good thing, since he had a full bladder and would certainly have had an accident by morning. I can't believe I'm going to post this stuff on the 'net, but I wanted to give a flavor of what it is like to be Brians companion in the mountains for a week, and keeping track of his bladder and bowel is certainly part of it.DAY FIVE: Roused Brian at 8:00 for breakfast, which he ate and promptly went back to sleep. Very un-Brian. He is usually up with the sun. If he was exausted, you would think it would have happened after the first two days when he had been under pack, not after the easy ramble of yesterday. My guess is that he had a bug or something, but once again, he can't tell me anything, and he seemed to feel better after his sixteen hour snore. We pulled out of Five Point about 11:30, just heading back a couple of miles to an unnamed lake about a half-mile off of the trail. Arrived just in time to take shelter under the pines from a tremendous hailstorm. It accumulated about a half-inch on the ground in twenty minutes. Brian seemed a bit confused but not worried. Remember, he likes to have a coat on. His hands were getting wet and cold, so I stuck a couple of mitts on them, which he seemed to appreciate. In fact, he was upset when I took them off a few hours later despite a warm sun. We found one of those perfect camps by this lake-a flat waist level rock for a kitchen, tons of down wood for a fire, sheltered flat tent site,-the works! Around 6:00, the clouds cleared out to beautiful dinner/fishing/sunset weather. I fixed up a batch of brownies for desert. Brownies always taste great, but five days from the road, there is nothing to compare! (Except the treat on day seven, maybe. But thats a paragraph or two away.) One last try at fishing, where I was officially skunked for the week. After the fire, Brian and I sat in the tent door and watched the stars come out. He may not have understood as I pointed out the three whole constellations that I knew-both dippers and Orion-but he sat placidly and looked at the night sky for the better part of an hour. It was another one of those semi-magical moments where he seems more in my world than in the Autistic universe he usually inhabits. The night was the coldest of the week, so I made sure he had on a jacket, as he tends to creep out of his sleeping bag in the night. I snuggled deep into mine, and slept like a rock. DAY SIX: Time to start heading back towards civilization. (Sigh) Spent the day retracing the same rocky trails that gave us so much trouble the first day. No pressure to get to a particular goal, so I let Brian set his own pace. He obliged, averaging just under a mile an hour. The boulder field that was so hard going down was even more fun going up. I understand that these trails would pose little problem for a young, fit backpacker, but for Brian, the rocky inclines are a major obstacle. We did find a fine campsite to spend the night. Right at timberline, with a snowmelt stream for water and a panoramic view down into the canyon of the Yellowstone River for a picture window. It had only been used a few times judging from the state of the camp. After a sunny day, a shower shows up just as I am fixing dinner, so we down our biscuits in the rain and head for the tent for the rest of the evening. It rains until just past midnight.DAY SEVEN: Today is Sunday, and as such will be our day of rest. After a relaxed pancake breakfast, I spend the morning reading scriptures, contemplating my place in Gods universe, and enjoying being with my son. Brian seems to really like our cathederal of pines, he just wanders around the grove, bellowing happily from time to time. The morning is cloudy, but grows fair as the day passes-the opposite of a typical Uinta pattern. Fixed a treat for lunch-Chocolate Chip cookies! The aroma drives the natives wild. Two magpies start hanging around, just waiting for me to turn my back, while a squadron of kamikazee chipmunks sends scouts dashing right at my kitchen rock. The only solution seems to be to eat all the cookies as swiftly as possible, so Brian and I dedicate ourselves to this ardous task, which we presently complete. Temptation elimintated, the local color blends back into the rocks, so I decide to wander up to the top of the bald ridge above our camp. Great view from the top both up into the basin and down to the meadows where our Jeep awaits in the morning. In fact, I think I can just see the trailhead and our car at the far end of the binoculars resolution. Any fantasies that we are the first to trod up here, however, are dispelled by the appearance of a tattered orange flag at the high spot in the ridge (Surveyors?), and a windbreak/small campsite constructed in a spot of krumholz pine. Oh well, it was a nice delusion while it lasted. Dinner and the evening turn wistful as I talk to Brian, telling his how much I enjoy doing this with him. He comes over and gives my dirty hair a big sniff, then giggles. Good old BJ.DAY EIGHT: A clear night, so I take the rainfly off of the tent so I can just pack it up in the morning without airing it out. A fast breakfast of cold cereal, and we are headed out by 8:00. Within a half-mile, we are clear of the rocky terrain and back into the meadows and open forest. Without the weight of the weeks worth of food, Brian makes much better time, but his dad keeps stopping for "rests", not wanting this sojurn in the wilderness to end. But shortly after ten, a flash of green metal thru the trees tells us that we are back to the trailhead and our Jeep. There are two large, horsemounted parties of bowhunters preparing to head in, and we pass a couple more on the drive down the canyon. This week will be a bit more crowded than last with the beginning of hunting season. After a week of navigating by map and compass, we actually get lost for a little while among the farm roads above Duschene! But shortly after noon, I am parked in front of a gas station, calling my wife and daughter to let them know we are safe, and grabbing a couple of sodas before the two hour drive back to Orem and my family. The soda tastes good, but I can't help but compare it unfavorably to ice-cold snowmelt. Like every trip, it was a wonderful, magical time. With enough time in the mountains with Brian, I can handle just about anything civilization cares to dish out.Lorin Johnaka "Buzzard"