The Sawtooths

June 15th, 2024

I left the Ketchum, Idaho area near sunrise on June 6th. I climbed the winding road to Galena Pass and then dropped down into the Sawtooth Valley. I was headed for somewhere around Stanley, a popular tourist town at the base of the Sawtooth Mountains. Because of the popularity, I was a little concerned about finding a campsite. However, the U.S. Forest Service campground called Sunny Gulch turned out to be only about 1/3 full. I picked site number 13, which seems to be a good number in many of the campgrounds I have visited. It had a good amount of sun exposure for my solar panels, even though the bluff on the other side of the Salmon River kept the sun from appearing until about 8 a.m.

The campground host was very friendly and strictly enforced the 10 mph speed limit in the park. This is something I appreciate, as it reduces noise and dust. After setting up the trailer, I drove into Stanley looking for a place to get some breakfast. Stanley is a very small rustic town. I did find the Stanley Baking Company and Cafe and enjoyed their Breakfast Burrito and a cup of coffee.

The following day, I drove over to the popular Redfish Lake and hiked for 5 miles along Fishhook Creek. It was sunny and very calm. There were only a handful of other hikers, most of which were met as I was returning to the trailhead. The views of the Sawtooth’s at the end of the trail were amazing. It is still early in the hiking season for trails in the high country, so my fitness level left me pretty tired by the end.

I next visited a ghost town. Gold was mined on the Yankee Fork River northeast of Stanley in a town named Custer. This occurred in the late 1800s. There are a dozen or so buildings still standing out of over 100. Those left are now part of a historical site. The construction was interesting and include roofs shingled with flattened tin cans. While walking through the buildings, I noticed a side trail that went up the hill behind a home. There I found a small fenced in plot with three grave markers. A winter snow slide came down the hill during the night and carried the home of a family of 5 across the main street and over the river to the other slope. They were able to dig out the mother and father, who lived. But, the three daughters were killed. Their graves are there with wooden markers carved with their names and ages of 4, 6, and 10.

A couple of days alter, I attempted another hike. This one followed a creek up to Fourth of July Lake. It was aptly named, as large snow drifts covered a lot of the trail and after “post holing” through much of it, I finally came to a creek crossing where the rushing snow melt was just to dangerous to cross. So, I turned back. I probably needed to wait until at least the Fourth to try getting to the lake. It was still worthwhile. It was very quiet, with only the rushing sound of the cascading creek, and a few Western Tanagers to keep me company.

After that, I decided to look for trails down in the meadows.

My last hike in the area was to Yellow Belly and McDonald lakes. The length of the trail was below the snow line. It is sometimes interesting when you meet people on the trail. On the way back, I ran into a couple with 2 German Shorthair Pointers. I started a conversation regarding how I used to hunt pheasants with Shorthairs back in the 1970s. From that, I learned that they had also spent some time in northern Illinois, corn country, and were familiar with many places in Wisconsin that I used to visit on vacations and long weekends. They had lived on property near Bruce Crossing in the Michigan Upper Peninsula. I used to canoe in that area many years ago. They were also familiar with the Porcupine Mountains and Ironwood where my friends and I still cross country ski in the winter.