Discovering the sport of "hiking" in the Sawtooths

I am not a particularly patient person by nature. I consider coffee a necessary food group, the mere mention of meditation makes me antsy and I like my yoga set to Lady Gaga.

I'm ready for my yoga session...

Given my love of stimulation, I am not the kind of person to ONLY go hiking. Don't get me wrong- I don't mind hiking to do other activities. If the end destination promises some sweet reward, such as an epic climbing spot, I'm all about it. Hiking simply to hike seems somewhat pointless to me- isn't it just walking with a nice view? Can we turn it into a trail run or throw a bike in there somehow?

Rifle Canyon in Colorado. Average approach time from car to climbing: 1 minute. Perfect.

However this summer I set a goal for myself: I would radically break my established pattern of staying in one place and solely climbing. Instead, I would expand my horizons and embark on other adventures- such as this "hiking" that many of my friends rave about. I was curious to see if this seemingly mundane activity could bring me the same fulfillment and high that I relish from my best days of climbing.

The destination: Sawtooth Lake in the Sawtooth Mountains of Idaho. Five miles of hiking promises dramatic views and not one but two pristine alpine lakes, nestled among soaring rock faces. Overconfident and dismissive of the difficulty of this "hiking" activity, we decided that a ten-mile round trip hike with a two thousand foot elevation gain sounded like a perfect rest day activity after three hard days of climbing.

Ok "hiking". Let's do this.

Observing the tradition of the alpine start, we set off from the trail head at the early hour of 1:30 pm. The five miles to Sawtooth Lake went quickly and was, dare I say, fun. The views along the entire hike were incredible and we found ourselves stopping almost constantly, trying to take in the immensity of it all. 

Lauren and Derek just taking in the view

The view of Alpine Lake on the way to Sawtooth Lake

Smoke from a distant forest fire looming over the Sawtooths

Our confidence grew as we passed elderly people, children and even infants. If they could do this "moderate" hike, surely we wouldn't even break a sweat. Around 4:30 pm we reached Sawtooth Lake. AMAZING. We spent about an hour in this unreal setting- marveling over the view, playing with the dogs in the snow and each taking a brief plunge into the frigid waters.

Sawtooth Lake

Preparing for the "refreshing" dip

Snow in the summer? Yes please!

Now there is a reason Ed Veisturs (mountaineering stud and the first American to climb all the 8,000 -meter peaks without supplemental oxygen) says "The summit is just a half way point." Granted our summit sat no higher than 2,600 meters, we were in no danger of cerebral edema and there wasn't a crevasse in sight. Despite this, the hike down proved to be the most difficult part of our trip thus far. The muscles in our legs locked up and we took to doing old soccer drills, such as karaokes to try to loosen them up. We brightened up whenever we saw a clearing up ahead through the trees, hoping it was the parking lot, only to find it was another meadow.

Dammit! Not another pristine alpine meadow!

Needless to say, "hiking" kicked my ass. I spent the next day groaning and stretching my legs across the dashboard as we made the 8-hour drive to Maple Canyon in Utah. I took to doing yoga at sketchy rest stops and gas stations while grizzled truckers stared at me.

However I found that when I wasn't grimacing in pain, I was grinning. I kept going through the photos on my camera until the battery died. I insisted on reliving the highlights of the hike with Lauren and Derek until they turned the music on the radio up louder to drown me out. When I closed my eyes that night, I saw the white puffs of cumulus clouds over the jagged peaks and felt the sudden punch of the cold glacial water.

There might be something to this "hiking" thing after all.

Post-hike red wine and fire. STILL my favorite part.