Hiker. Blogger. Photographer. CrossFitter. Dog Owner. Texan.
Imogene Lake to Hidden Lake
The trail is clearly defined between the unnamed pass behind me and Sand Mountain Pass in front of me.
August 18, 2009, was my seventh day on the trail in the Sawtooth Wilderness. It was a balmy 34 degrees at sunrise along the shore of Imogene Lake. I would need to hike about nine miles today to reach my goal of Hidden Lake. In between was a pair (or three, depending on one’s perspective) of mountain passes and a high canyon between them. Part of me still wanted to tackle Mount Cramer, but practicality squelched that pretty quickly. Besides, the sunrise was too beautiful to ignore.
Sunrise from Imogene Lake
It was nearly 9 o’clock by the time I’d started hiking. The first pass, an unnamed saddle between Pt. 9,955 and Pt. 9,934 was about 2 miles and 850 vertical feet away. The first stretch of the trail followed the lakeshore and provided several additional opportunities to savor the view of Mt. Cramer looming over its still waters.
Mount Cramer rises above Imogene Lake' still waters.
The sun made an appearance, burning off some of the lower clouds. It looked like it would a beautiful if breezy day. The reflection off the mountains and bright green trees was almost blinding. Again I regretted losing my sunglasses so early in the journey. I’ll be sure to leave a pair in any resupply cache in the future. The ‘do rag, meanwhile, was keeping the sun off my burnt scalp.
As the trail left the lake and its hulking granite companion behind, it entered a wide meadow dotted with small sets of pines. The open terrain provided outstanding vistas of the surrounding Sawtooth Mountains, particularly 10,211-foot Payette Peak, around which I would walk a semicircle, and Pt. 9,955 and its northern buttress, a grand cathedral above the pines.
The north face of Pt. 9,955 reflects the morning sun.
A fairly steep climb was coming, as the trail takes several short switchbacks straight up a rubble-covered alpine bowl to the knife-edge ridge on top. I’d gained not quite half the elevation necessary to reach the pass before the switchbacks began in earnest. I could see a patch of snow ahead and wondered if the trail traversed it. I left my gaiters at Pettit Lake as I had not yet needed them.
The wispy clouds overhead and striking blue sky contrasted beautifully with the greens of the trees and the ruddy gray of the mountain slopes.
The pass is dead ahead, straight up the rubble-covered bowl.
To my great relief, the trail skirted the icy patch and instead marched in a well-designed series of ramps straight up the boulder-strewn slope. I definitely had my trail legs under me by this point, as I passed a couple of hikers who were slowly picking their way up the trail. As I neared the pass, I paused to look back down the Hellroaring Canyon to Imogene Lake, Mount Cramer, and the distant mountains. The hikers are visible to the lower left. Imogene Lake is in the center; Hellroaring Lake is faintly visible to the upper right.
A last look toward Hellroaring and Imogene Lakes.
I reached the pass (9,303 feet) at 10:20 a.m. and immediately met Mike and Jesse, a couple of locals who enthusiastically love the Sawtooths. We chatted for about half an hour on the windy pass, sharing gorp and other snacks and swapping stories about these mountains and elsewhere. Jesse, a Connecticut native, writes a blog which features his hikes, mostly in eastern Oregon, but sadly I’ve never located it. Mike is from southern Idaho (I want to say Hailey, near Sun Valley) via Salt Lake City and Michigan.
We also swapped taking photos of one another. Unfortunately, we were headed in opposite directions. They were headed toward Hellroaring Lake, eager to view the Finger of Fate. I let them know the views were just fine, and they were even happier to learn that the lake wasn’t too far away. I was going the other way, back over Sand Mountain Pass — which Mike called “Sandie” — to Edna Lake where I’d stood several days before. After about half an hour, we said our farewells and went our separate ways.
It seemed almost unfortunate that I’d have to lose and then regain altitude when an elevation contour line made a perfectly serviceable arc beneath the crown of Pt. 9,955 to Sand Mountain Pass. Indeed, I thought about picking my way around the lip of the cirque, then of course thought better of it.
The view toward Sand Mountain Pass is shown at the top of this post. The trail quickly loses about 300 feet as it provides marginal views of Edith Lake and its accompanying peaks. The sun was directly in line with the lake, so the photos did not turn out well. Wildflowers were especially pretty here, from the paintbrushes clinging to the rocky slopes to the blue, violet, and yellow blooms attended by hundreds of butterflies in the marshy bottom. It only took me about 20 minutes to reach the trail junction to Yellowbelly via Edith Lake. I went straight, climbing over a slight rise before entering another beautiful meadow. Pt. 9,955 was especially striking from here.
Pt. 9,955 as seen from the meadow above Edith Lake
After bottoming out at around 9,000 feet, the climb was on again, this time up a more forested northeast slope. As it climbed, the trail became narrower and more precarious. A hiker caught me from behind with a large dog companion, and it nearly knocked me off the trail. At times, the path was barely a foot wide. I was relieved to reach the middle “pass” even though I would climb still from here to reach Sand Mountain Pass. The view back toward the unnamed pass was beautiful.
Looking back at the unnamed pass
Pt. 9,955 is the steep-walled pyramid on the left. Pt. 9,934 is the humpbacked peak on the right. Between them, in the distance, is Mt. Cramer. The wind picked up as I made my way further up the slope, then sharply down along an exposed set of switchbacks, finally reaching the safety of Sand Mountain Pass at noon. I’d been on this pass three days before. Here I met Leslie and Margaret and another woman who were hiking together, and a father hiking with his three sons. Indeed, this was the chattiest day I had on the trail. I offered some moleskin and other first aid supplies to one of the women, who had developed a nasty blister. The men had some Ritz crackers, and they just about tasted as good as anything I’d ever eaten after a week of the same protein bars, nuts, and freeze-dried meals.
I lingered at “Sandie” for nearly an hour, taking my leave as the three sons were scrambling up the adjacent peak. The familiar path down from the pass took about an hour, and I was once again above the shore of Edna Lake. This time, I was actually going to visit the lake. In fact, I found the women hikers again, and we log- and boulder-hopped our way across Edna Lake’s outlet stream to a beautiful rock outcrop on the lake’s north shore. Here we ate, rested, and found our way into the water. They swam; I waded. They asked lots of questions about my gear and route, and I enjoyed their company. A mother, sister, and daughter, they were.
Our lunch spot beside Edna Lake
In a couple of days, they would reach Grandjean. I told them to expect a tough final day on the South Fork Payette Trail. At least it was all downhill, was their ever-positive attitude. They would remain camped there, but I had one more lake to visit, so we said our goodbyes. After passing kidney-shaped Virginia Lake, I reached the junction with the South Fork Payette Trail, and with it the shortest distance back to the car. Nah, too much exploring still to go, though the thought I would not complete the planned trek in its entirety was already gnawing on me. I’d have to reach the Baron Lakes the next day to have a shot, and that still left a lot of miles and a 3,000-foot climb to go.
It was just after 4 when I left the trail junction, crossed the South Fork Payette River, and headed up toward Hidden Lake. It’s a small climb from the Payette to the unnamed sliver of a lake at the foot of Payette Peak, a preview of the beautiful Hidden Lake. The shoreline along Hidden Lake’s west side is angled sharply downward and covered with pines. I located a suitable camping spot on a narrow shelf of land between a forbidding cliff and the water’s edge, just about the only patch of grass along the shore. It was a little after 5 p.m., and the mosquitoes were already active as the sun immediately dropped behind the mountains.
Despite the darkness on my shore, the opposite shore, the foot of mighty Payette Peak, was still brightly lit.
Payette Peak shines above Hidden Lake.
The wind picked up around sunset, causing the lake to get quite choppy. A waterfall across the lake added its chorus, so I was pleased there would be noises this night. Unfortunately, there were several noises during the night which would keep me quite awake. For the only time on the whole epic trip, the knowledge that I was alone by that lake made me very nervous, even fearful.
Trail Between Two Passes, SW09-0818-5821R, UTM 11T 0663571 E 4871693 N NAD27; Sunrise From Imogene Lake, SW09-0818-5779, 0664234 E 4872903 N; Mount Cramer and Imogene Lake, SW09-0818-5781R, 0664180 E 4872848 N; Pt. 9,955 in the Morning Sun, SW09-0818-5790R, 0663787 E 4872647 N; A Steep Trail to the Pass, SW09-0818-5809R, 0663598 E 4871828 N; Pt. 9,955, SW09-0818-5844R, 0663299 E 4871219 N; Looking Back at the Unnamed Pass, SW09-0818-5860R, 0663031 E 4870837 N; Sawtooth Wilderness, Sawtooth National Forest | Lunch Spot Beside Edna Lake, SW09-0818-5887R, 0661097 E 4870591 N; and Hidden Lake and Payette Peak, SW09-0818-5916R, 0660491 E 4873464 N; Boise National Forest, Idaho | ©2009 Jeff Blaylock
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