Northern Idaho News

NOTES FROM THE TRAIL

Pyramid Rocks, Creating Whisperers, Stringers, and Feeling Your Power

By Bill Schneider, 8-30-07

During my decades in the outdoor writing and publishing biz I developed a habit of always carrying my reporter’s notebook with me. I’m constantly jotting down notes and keeping lists for later because I’ll forget half of those important “todos” if I don’t. I take that notebook everywhere, even on backpacking trips. This year, I had three memorable hiking trips, and of course, I took notes.

Here are a few of those notes from the trail.

Pointy rocks. I like to get off the beaten path and my off-trail treks often involve navigating through rock fields. When I was young, those rocks all seemed to have flat tops, but now, when I’m thinking about social security, they all seem like little pyramids. Have you noticed that?

Office Organization. In my little dingy office in downtown Helena, I work in constant fear of being buried in a paper avalanche because I allow stacks of paper and books climb towards the ceiling from every flat spot. If I had to find a certain piece of paper, it might take me weeks. But up in the wilderness, in my Real Office, I’m a completely different person. My backpack is perfectly organized, and I know where everything is at all times. You’d think I could learn something out on the trail that I could take downtown and become more organized, but it never seems to happen.

Feeling the power. Virtually every time I go backpacking, I write the same note--something about self-reliance. We are dependent society, you know. We depend on the power company, the cellular company, the Internet, the government, the gas station, and the list goes on and on. But up in the wilderness, guess what, we only depend on our own ability to make it through the day. And it’s more than basic survival. It’s always amazing to me how little we need to have a good time. Have you ever noticed how being self-reliant makes you feel strong and fiercely independent?

Hating stingers. I had one bad experience this year. My son and I climbed an off-trail route up to a spectacular mountain lake, way up there at 10,200 feet. We’d heard the fishing for native cutthroat was great in this lake, and for once, we had the correct information. We caught a lot of nice fish--and carefully released all of them, so they’d be there for the next time and the next angler. But I saw two other groups with spinning rods keeping large stringers of fish and packing them out.

I hate to see this happening in a fragile environment like a high-mountain lake. I’m hardly a fly fishing purist and have nothing against anglers using spinning rods. I have at least a dozen spinning and baitcasting outfits down in the man room, in fact, but I do know it’s harder to successfully release small fish when they’re caught with a treble hook instead of a small dry fly.

I also have no problem eating fish. I probably eat too many, almost like I’m challenging the validity of this mercury poisoning theory. I had fish for dinner last night, and I have the leftovers in my sandwich for lunch today. But I don’t keep many fish from high-mountain lakes, no more than a couple for dinner that night, and usually not even that. I prefer to do my part to protect this precious resource for anglers to enjoy in the future, and I wish everybody would do the same. 

More wilderness, not more regulation. Contrary to surveys showing declines in the number of backpackers, I seem to see more people every year. I’ve written a few hiking guidebooks, so perhaps I contribute to what could be considered overcrowding in some cases. But what is the answer to overcrowded, overused wilderness?

Land managing agencies like the U.S. Forest Service and National Park Service seem to think it’s more regulation like permit systems and designated campsites. But I wish the agency folks would keep in mind that regulation is what we’re trying to escape when we head for the wilderness. We’re looking for freedom and self-reliance, not stress over whether we’re camping 200 feet or 195 feet away from the lake.

At the same time, our pursuit of freedom does impact the wilderness, so what to do? I say the best answer is designating more wilderness instead of writing more regulations.

New whisperer One last note. I had two of my grandkids along on one of my backpacking trips this year and made an interesting observation. While sitting up by a mountain lake near our campsite, Little Alex, not yet four years old, started, with no coaching, talking to me in whispers. Somehow, he had automatically sensed that talking loud, as he often does, was contrary to the spirit of the wilderness. Amazing how perceptive kids are, don’t you think?

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