The Dancing Wind

Backpacking With Women

Just a few days after I returned from my seven-day backpacking trip through the Wind River Range of Wyoming, I was off on another adventure, this time in the wilderness of Montana. My adventure started with a six-hour road trip to Missoula (my longest solo road trip to date!). I was headed to Liz of Snowqueen and Scout‘s house, where I would meet her and three other women that I met though social media in person for the first time. All five of us would be participating in the first annual Wild Sage Summit, a gathering of influential women of the outdoor industry in the rugged Montana wilderness. We would spend three days backpacking together, and getting to know each other in person. It would be my first time backpacking in a group of all women, and I was excited for it.

We all stayed up past midnight having a packing party, discussing the benefits of lightweight gear, and of carrying less stuff in general to lighten our loads. Alyx of Shoestring Adventures was able to lighten her usual load by ten pounds! Liz showed us a map of our proposed route through the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness of Montana, and gave us a choice: a straightforward out and back trip, or a thru-hike ending at a different trailhead. The one-way trip would allow us to see a lot more scenery, but had a catch – a seemingly small cross-country section where we would need to use our route-finding skills a bit to link one trail to another trail. A guidebook assured us that there would be a reasonably clear trail to follow through the cross-country section, even though it wasn’t on the map (we would later learn that this trail hadn’t been maintained in over a decade). So we of course chose the more challenging trip.

We got off to a leisurely start the next morning, in stark contrast to my usual experience when backpacking with my husband. (He insists that we wake up at 5:00am to get our start bright and early.) I drove the shuttle car to the end trailhead with Jaymie of Mug Life and enjoyed getting to know her better during the drive. This was going to be fun!

backpacking with women at the Wild Sage Summit

Our first day, we hiked about 10 miles with over 3,000 ft of elevation gain over steep, rocky terrain on an unusually warm late-summer day.

backpacking women — Yes, we did plan the matching Gossamer Gear backpacks !

During our afternoon snack break, Liz checked our progress on the topo map, and proclaimed, “So we have a little bit of climbing coming up… (thoughtful pause while examining the map) …and then more climbing.” This was the first of many funny moments that made the trip memorable.

woman reading topo map — Liz checking the topo map during our Epic snack break

And climb we did! Up and up and up until the sun started getting low, and the colors of the landscape lit up with fiery reds and yellows.

women backpacking through the Montana wilderness at the Wild Sage Summit

Finally, we reached our goal – beautiful Bass Lake.

Bass Lake, Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness, Montana

Jaymie capturing the beauty of Bass Lake while catching some solar rays

Now we just needed to find a campsite and a place to cook dinner. Tired and hungry, we decided to make a tiny-but-flat campsite work, and cook dinner down on the lake’s beach. The hot day quickly turned cold as the sun set, so we washed up and cooked some hot meals to share. Alyx put a packet of mushroom risotto inside her shirt to help speed up the cooking process and keep her warm, unaware that the ziplock seal hadn’t been closed quite properly. Soon we would all see Alyx standing there bewildered as, to quote Liz, “her mushroom risotto water broke and she birthed our dinner into the world.” Her shirt would have to join our bear hang bags that night.

woman cooking backpacking meals — Alyx prepping our Good to Go dinners, pre-explosion

Back at our tiny campsite, we determined that there was not enough room for our tents to fit. In fact, there was only just enough room for us to line our sleeping pads up side-by-side and “cowgirl camp” under the stars. It was my first time sleeping outdoors without a tent. Far out into the wilderness with no light pollution nearby, we were treated to a dark sky lit up with stars. Even the Milky Way was visible. A nearby colony of pikas called out “ehhh!” every so often, and all seemed otherwise quiet and serene. But I cannot lie – I barely slept that night. Korrin of Wild Wilderness Women was the only one of us lucky enough to sleep like a rock.

Our second day continued along the established trail around Bass Lake, and then turned off towards Bass Pass on a vague-but-discernible trail. With only minor route-finding required, we triumphantly reached Bass Pass.

Wild wilderness women, Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness, Wyoming

From Bass Pass, we followed a few cairns down the mountain and into the creek bed below. Then the trail disappeared. But we pulled out the topo map, and pressed on.

Backpacking the Montana wilderness with women

At times bits and pieces of the trail would reappear again, assuring us that we were heading the right way. Everyone’s mood remained positive and adventurous.

Backpacking the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness at the Wild Sage Summit

We bushwhacked through underbrush and rocks, getting scratched and bruised up legs. We hopped across a giant field of boulders, cracking jokes when we found a very randomly placed cairn in this seemingly middle-of-nowhere place. (“Let me mark this! Yeah, I’d take this trail again.”)

But eventually, the trail disappeared, and a wall of seven-foot-tall underbrush stood before us. So we pushed through it.

women backpacking through underbrush — Welcome to the jungle!

group of women bushwhacking — Korrin always looking back to make sure I didn’t get smacked in the face

Up, down, over and through mile after mile of jungle-like forest, five foot tall ferns, creeks and boulders.

female backpackers bushwhacking — Bushwhacking masters whut-wut!

woman bushwhacking through ferns — We kept our smiles and positivity through some positively rugged terrain

Women backpacking through rugged wilderness

Along the way, I found an old, rusty bear spray in the “jungle.” Had someone else really bushwhacked this same way before? And every once in a while, a trail would suddenly reappear, only to lead nowhere in particular, or disappear again. We amused ourselves by playing word games, telling stories, and yelling “HEY BEAR!” to keep the bears away. (Which worked! At one point a startled bear ran crashing through the forest away from us.) And then finally… we made our connection with the Kootenai Creek Trail, just before dark. All in all, we spent about 12 hours backpacking that day, ending the day’s adventure hiking by the light of our headlamps up to a campsite by the Kootenai Lakes. We set up camp (this time in tents), cooked and ate dinner and did our bear hang all by starlight. Alyx proclaimed, “Our motto should be: You can sleep when you’re dead.” And rather than going right to sleep after a long, tough day, we stayed up late talking and laughing about the day’s adventures.

Finally, we all went to sleep. About six hours later, in the pitch darkness, we awoke to the sound of something big crashing through the forest. It was heading right for our camp, and it was making deep, guttural grunting noises. Having worked around bears before at a wildlife sanctuary, I knew that this wasn’t a sound that a bear makes, but it was scary. And it was LOUD… and too close for comfort. I said, “Do you guys hear that?!” and pulled the safety off my bear spray, just in case something was about to attack. We made lots of noise to try to scare it away. It was largely unmoved. It continued to grunt near our camp for a while, and then finally went away. We would later learn that it was bull moose looking for a mate.

After the sun rose, we got to see just what a scenic spot we were camping in. It was nice to spend some time enjoying our beautiful surroundings before getting back on the trail.

Our third and final day was spent on the Kootenai Creek Trail backpacking through beautiful wilderness forest and alongside the crystal clear Kootenai Creek. Despite the blistering heat, some of us opted to wear yoga pants to keep our legs from getting battered any further by the underbrush that creeped into the trail here and here. With thoughts of the ice cold beer that awaited us back at Liz’s house, we backpacked our final miles together.

women backpacking — Keeping comfortable and protected in Dear Kates

It was a trip I’ll never forget. We entered the trail as nearly-strangers, and left as friends.

Backpacking the Wind River Range of Wyoming

In early September of this year, I spent a week backpacking 80 miles through the Wind River Range in the Bridger Wilderness of Wyoming with my husband Max. It was my longest and highest altitude backpacking trip to date. Because this was a wilderness trip, no camping permits were required. But because the Bridger Wilderness is bear country, we did need to plan in advance to bring gear for secure food storage both below and above the treeline, as many of our planned campsites were above 10,000 feet in elevation. Daytime high temperatures reached into the 70s, and nighttime lows dipped into the frosty 20s.

On our first day, loaded down with enough food and all-weather gear for a week (you can never skimp on warm clothing or rain gear in the mountains, though I do wear a Mariposa lightweight backpack and pack as ultralight as possible), we began our adventure at the Green River Lakes trailhead on the Highline Trail. This trail began with stunning views of the Lower and Upper Green River Lakes, both aquamarine in color. The lakes were surrounded by massive mountains, including the iconic and aptly-named Squaretop Mountain to the south.

Squaretop Mountain and the Green River, Wind River Range, Wyoming

The trail then meandered next to the Green River, which is also colored a fascinating shade of aquamarine by glacial silt. After hiking about 14 miles on relatively flat terrain, we decided to camp for the night in a meadow called Three Forks Park. It turned out that the area was quite marshy, and the only flat and dry campsite that we could find in the area was already taken. In the wilderness, there are generally not clearly established campsites, in keeping with the Leave No Trace ethic, so finding a campsite involves some scouting. After a bit more hunting around with slightly soggy feet, we managed to find a flat, dry spot and finally lay our heavy packs to rest for the night. We had just enough time to cook dinner, get cleaned up, and pitch our tent before being treated to a beautiful view of the last light on the mountains surrounding the little canyon we were camping in.

Three Forks Park, Wind River Range, Wyoming

The next morning we set out ready to begin steadily climbing up to above 11,000 ft in elevation, with our end destination for the day to be above the treeline. We were treated to warm weather and perfect puffy clouds as we switchbacked higher and higher up, making a stop for lunch near an alpine lake surrounded by mountains. After this refreshing break, the trail began to descend for so long that we were worried that we had taken the wrong route — but soon the trail began to climb once more, leading us up to Vista Pass at 10,150 ft elevation with a stunning view of the valley below.

The view from the top of Vista Pass - seen while backpacking the Wind River Range, Wyoming

Beyond Vista Pass, we were treated to dramatic views of shimmering blue-green alpine lake after alpine lake, each framed by 12,000 ft tall peaks, with puffy clouds dancing above.

Backpacking views in the Wind River Range, Bridger Wilderness, Wyoming

Our highest elevation climb for the day was up to Shannon Pass at 11,245 ft–well above the 8,300 ft elevation we began our day at–which required scrambling over a vast field of boulders to get to the top.

Scrambling over boulders to reach Shannon Pass while backpacking the Wind River Range in Wyoming

Beautiful alpine tundra, tall peaks and emerald lakes surrounded us as we hiked breathlessly above the treeline. We camped between a pristine little unnamed lake and vast, deep Upper Jean Lake. This was my first time camping above the treeline in an exposed meadow, and I was thankful for the calm evening weather. I woke up in the middle of the night to look at the moon shining through the clouds and the night sky lit up with stars, and just marvel at this otherworldly scene all around me. All was quiet except for the delightful call of pikas in the rocks.

On day three we began our journey toward the destination that I had been most looking forward to, Titcomb Basin. We stopped for lunch at an overlook of the wildly scenic Island Lake, the tall spires of Titcomb Basin rising up behind it, and just soaked in the scenery for a while.

After hiking past Island Lake and rock-hopping over a creek, we arrived at Titcomb Basin in all its glory. Before exploring further, we hunted around for a suitable campsite to spend the next two nights in. The spot that we chose had an amazing view of the lakes and the 13,000 ft peaks surrounding the basin, but was quite exposed given the 10,600 ft elevation that we were camping at.

camp in Titcomb Basin while backpacking the Wind River Range, Wyoming

After shedding some of the weight from our packs and spending the evening exploring the magnificent scenery of Titcomb Basin, we enjoyed the expansive views of the entire basin from back at our campsite.

backpacking Titcomb Basin, Wind River Range, Wyoming

On our fourth day we hiked through Indian Basin and up to Indian Pass, the highest elevation that I had hiked up to at the time: 12,200 ft. Indian Basin was filled with more of the striking alpine lakes surrounded by mountains that had delighted us throughout this trip, and the hike up to Indian Pass took us close with some small glaciers that had survived another summer. To our surprise, all of the large glaciers that our map seemed to show we would be looking out on from the other side of the pass were hidden from view. Every last one of them! But it was still quite an experience to have hiked up that high, and the endless view down into Indian Basin was a bit like looking into Mordor.

The view from the top of Indian Pass, above 12,000 ft elevation, Wind River Range, Wyoming

After descending to explore Indian Basin some more, we returned to our campsite to soak in some more views of Titcomb Basin, enjoy the sunset, and watch increasingly dark clouds roll in. They made for some dramatic late-day light, but it looked like we might be in for a rough night.

stormy sunset in Titcomb Basin, Wind River Range, Wyoming

Hoping for the best, we went to sleep in our Tarptent. Sometime in the middle of the night, bright flashes of lightning striking all around us and the booming rumble of thunder woke us up, terrified. I clung to Max in fear with each boom and burst of light. There were so many lightning strikes all around us that I worried we were going to be hit. With each flash and boom, I wondered if this would be my last night on Earth.

“So this is it, I’m going to die here.”

Finally, the storm went away as suddenly as it had begun, and we drifted back to sleep again.

On our fifth day we said a reluctant goodbye to Titcomb Basin – I was sad to leave this beautiful place, lightning and all.

We hiked back past Island Lake, still awed by its size and beauty, and back to Upper Jean Lake, where we stopped for lunch.

Lunch break views across from Upper Jean Lake, Wind River Range, Wyoming

Instead of feeling tired and sore as I had feared I might by this point in the trip, I felt strong. Max said that I was like a mountain goat as I climbed up the steep, rocky trail with what felt like ease. Eleven miles later, we chose a campsite near huge and scenic Elbow Lake. After the previous night’s ordeal, we selected as sheltered a campsite as we could at 10,600 ft so that we wouldn’t feel as exposed.

Camping near Elbow Lake while backpacking the Winds in Wyoming

This turned out to be a wise decision, as the night brought howling wind and pouring rain all night long, plus a bit more thunder and lightning. It was hard to sleep much that night. A deep appreciation for the power of nature settled in me, similar to the first time I got knocked down by a wave and dragged by the current into the ocean.

Thunderclouds rolling in near Elbow Lake in the Wind River Range, Wyoming

We woke up to a wet tent (on the outside only, thankfully), water in our camp shoes, and a very cold sixth morning. Shortly after we got started on looping back to the trailhead a higher-elevation way than we came in, we met two other backpackers on the trail who warned us that the forecast for that night called for three inches of snow above 9500 ft. Our planned campsite for the night was above 10,000 ft, so we took out our map and decided to alter our route back to avoid the possibility of waking up covered in snow, and then spending the day hiking through snow in our summer shoes. Dramatic clouds rolled in, and then spit some hail on us, as we made our way back down below the treeline again.

Backpacking the Wind River Range in Wyoming

We camped at a pleasant spot in Beaver Park back down around 8,000 ft, and the weather cleared enough for us to enjoy our dinner and the sunset before heading to sleep.

In the morning we awoke to a tent covered completely in frost and frozen water bottles. I was thankful that I had brought gloves and a winter hat that final morning, and put my hiking pants on right over my fleece pajamas. It was too cold to take my pajama pants off until well after the sun rose! Our final day of backpacking took us back past the Green River, Green Lakes, and Squaretop Mountain.

Backpacking past the Green River Lakes, Wind River Range, Wyoming

A few other groups of backpackers warned us of a young grizzly bear near the trail ahead, but he was gone by the time we passed. We also missed an entire family of moose that a ranger told us he had seen earlier in the morning. There were plenty of stunning views to make up for the missed wildlife connections though, and I was sad to find myself at the end of the trail that afternoon. A victory dinner at the Wind River Brew Pub awaited us back in Pinedale, Wyoming, where I proceeded to eat the Best Meal Ever after a week of eating only backpacking food. I am already planning my next trip back to the enchanting, awe-inspiring Wind River Range.

Read more of my adventures here and see more photos on Instagram.

A Life Less Structured

For the second time in my life, I have taken the plunge and quit my day job. Something inside me was screaming that I am not meant to sit for eight hours straight per day. Sunlight and movement and open space were things that my soul was craving. Days free from clocks, structure, screens and boxes.

The last time I quit my day job, a couple of side projects that I had been working on for years suddenly took off at just that moment. I had more time to focus on my art, and discovered that people actually wanted to buy it. I took a scary risk, and it somehow worked out… and here I am again, swimming upstream against the tide of “supposed to.”

I’m usually quite the planner, but sometimes I decide to just wing it instead. This is one of those times.

Here is some of what I’ve been soaking in lately.

Looking out over the Buffao Bill Reservoir and the Absaroka Mountains at Buffalo Bill State Park in Cody, Wyoming

Morning light on summer wildflowers on the hike up to Elk Mountain in the Wyoming Range – one of my new favorites.

sunrise on Jackson Lake, Grand Teton National Park — Waking up to see the sunrise on Jackson Lake after a night of camping in Grand Teton National Park

Watching the thunderclouds roll in as the sun shines moody light on the steamy Excelsior Geyser in Yellowstone National Park.

Wildflowers in Grand Teton National Park — Lingering in this field of happiness in Grand Teton National Park

The view from Peaked Peak at Grand Targhee — The “Idaho side” of the Tetons framed by wildflowers on the hike up to Peaked Peak at Grand Targhee

Enjoying lunch after a hike up to Delta Lake in Grand Teton National Park , the moment before a cold wind and a hailstorm drove everyone else away (while I put on my rain suit and backpack cover and waited a short time for it to blow over).

Hiking through fields of tall, trail-obscuring nettle-leaf horsemint, lupine and sticky geranium on the long, strenuous route up to Liar’s Pass in the Big Hole Mountains of eastern Idaho.

field of lupine in Idaho — Getting lost in lupine

Craters of the Moon

I spent a long weekend with my husband Max in Craters of the Moon National Monument in March. The snow had just melted, and the campground and trails were mostly empty. We had this vast, otherworldly high desert landscape mostly to ourselves. Picking a campsite in a recessed area with plenty of windbreak saved our tent from getting overly brutalized from the high winds that picked up on our second day, although it didn’t stop the inside of our tent from filling up with sand. Note to self: always place a heavy rock on top of each tent stake in the desert, even if it doesn’t seem necessary.

This mysterious land of lava fields and cinder cones was designated as a National Monument in 1924. Just 100 years ago, it was still largely unknown and unexplored by anyone except the Northern Shoshone. The sunsets and sunrises were particularly spectacular. Warm sunlight and cold air. I expected to have company at these beautiful spots, but we were the only ones there each time.

golden hour and long shadows in Craters of the Moon

cinder cones and mountain views in Craters of the Moon

Our hikes took us through volcanic moonscapes, and past enormous craters. When you get off the short road that travels through a small corner of the park, and out onto the trails or into the backcountry, it becomes readily apparent how this wonderland got its name.

The landscape at Craters of the Moon in Idaho

A crater and volcanic rocks in Craters of the Moon

I was fascinated by the geology of the area. Lava erupted from this crater thousands of years ago, and then cinders piled up around it as they erupted explosively. There were never any steep mountain style volcanoes here the eruptions at Craters of the Moon were fissure eruptions, where lava came out of cracks in the ground. Craters of the Moon is located on a weak spot in the earth’s crust called the Great Rift, where there have been eight eruptions in the past 15,000 years. The cinder rocks were formed when gases that were dissolved in the magma came out of solution during an eruption, creating bubbles in the molten rock which were frozen in place when the rock cooled and solidified. Some of the small cinders are light enough to float on water!

Volcanic cinder rocks in Craters of the Moon, Idaho

Craters of the Moon also includes 43,243 acres of wilderness. In 1970 Congress recognized the exceptional qualities of the now-protected area by designating it as the first wilderness area in any national park. We hiked some of The Wilderness Trail before being blown about so much by gale-force gusts that we decided to come back and explore the wilderness some more on another, less windy, day. At over 1,100 square miles (more than 750,000 acres), this huge park has plenty of space to explore. It is almost as large as the state of Rhode Island!

The view along the Craters of the Moon Wilderness Trail

Beginner to Black Diamond

Last year was my first winter in the mountains. I live 20 minutes away from Grand Targhee, so I had to learn to ski. I started off with a group beginner lesson. I remember falling down and one of my skis getting so deeply stuck into a snow bank that another woman from my lesson kindly helped me dig it out. I was a mess, but I had fun.

Here is a really flattering moment from my second time on skis – I’ve got the wedge AND the upper body swing going on at once. I’m also wearing a horrific pair of hand-me-down men’s ski pants from the 90s that made me look like a dork. I had to pull them up to my armpits under my jacket to mitigate the sag. I’m skiing the flattest green run at Grand Targhee, The North Pole, in the photo below.

Beginner skiing form on a green trail at Grand Targhee — Processed with VSCOcam with s6 preset

Here I am six weeks and three more group lessons later on a blue run that was much steeper, and with more than twice as much vertical feet to the bottom of the trail. I’m stiff and my thighs are clenched in fear as I ride my skinny 142cm skis down the mountain, still wearing pants that are way too long – and goggles (also from the 90s) that are quite out of fashion. This photo makes me laugh now. And can you tell that I was cold?!

beginner skiing a blue run at Grand Targhee — Processed with VSCOcam with s6 preset

This is me on March 30th, 2014 (oh how I miss having that much snow at this time of year!) plowing through about 8 or so inches of powder, still on my skinny 142cm skis. I realize now why those skis were not helping me out much in these conditions. I had fun, though! And I bought a new pair of ski pants on the mountain that day, after all that falling snow soaked through my old pants so badly that I’d had enough. Good riddance to them!

This was me in April 2014, and where I left off technique-wise last season. I was getting better, learning to get on my edges, but still figuring the rest out.

learning to ski at Grand Targhee Resort, Wyoming

This was me near the beginning of this ski season, in December 2014. I have a fatter set of skis in 159 length this season, and I’m starting to lose my fear of steepness and speed. This was the first time I went down the final steep drop of Wild Turkey at Grand Targhee without being terrified.

I started to think I was getting pretty good this year, but I still hadn’t put all of the pieces together yet. But when I would ask my husband Max (who served as my ski instructor after the initial beginner lessons) if I was getting better, he would always respond with, “NO. Still looks the same.” I had him take all of these photos of me along my journey, as well as many videos, so that I could try to figure out what I was doing wrong and how to fix it. I was so determined not to get another “NO” answer to my “Am I doing better this week?” question!

Finally, in early February of this year, I had a breakthrough moment. As I rode the lift up the mountain, I was watching the racing school skiers go down, and I realized that I needed to set my arms free. Until that time, I had been concentrating so hard on keeping my hands in front of me that I didn’t realize that it was okay to unclench my arms from my sides in order to make room for my body to move through my turns. And then the next run down the mountain, I got it. Even Max agreed!

After another few weeks of working on my technique, I started skiing black diamond trails. And skiing them really fast, feeling completely in control! This is me now. A year ago, it was hard to imagine getting to this place.