We wake to a slightly hazy but otherwise beautiful day. I pack before leaving my tent, but I am in no hurry. Our second fuel canister sputters its last spurt, making just enough boiling water for coffee. Our conservative third fuel canister is not needed, but just barely. It is grab bag morning. Anything yet to be eaten is free game – Pop-tarts, granola, Fritos, cheese. It does not have to make sense, it just has to provide calories. I produce my last daily constitutional, a clean record – one for every day. Kevin, who apparently has been keeping track, makes his final report – he had the most, I had the last, and Brian had the biggest. We hear coyotes howling in the distance. They are telling us something, we just don’t know what.
We join the trail with only four and a half miles to go. It is mostly a gentle downward slope, matching our emotions leaving this wilderness. On the trail out we are reminded we are not the only ones who uses it. A covey of grouse wanders down the trail ahead of us They are only slightly concerned by our presence. Later we stop to consider a very clear set of bear prints that enter the trail, head in our same direction, then exit. We have been following plenty of shoe prints, and these bear prints are clearly on top. They are very recent, probably from last night or this morning. We remind ourselves that our junior ranger had said he has never seen a bear in any of his three summers in the Sawtooth. Apparently he needs to pay a bit more attention. Pushing on we come to a long eared hare in the middle of the trail, munching on a pile of hay-like horse poop. I said, “Oh little buddy that’s gross.” More concerning to me was Kevin’s response: “Oh come on, we’ve all been there, desperate for something to eat.” We push on in awkward silence.
As if part of our last rites, we have one final river crossing with cold water rushing over our feet and calfs. Gradually the car comes into view. As we approach, we wonder about the blueberry muffin trash we left in the car. Could the bear, whose prints we saw earlier this morning, have ripped off the rental cars door to reach its sugary goodness? As we approach, we are pleased the answer is no. Apparently even the bear has muffin standards, and Walmart’s blueberry did not make the cut.
We drive to the Kirkham Natural Hot Springs where a week’s worth of dirt, sweat and stink is washed away in the emerald pools and moss dripping waterfalls. We stop in Idaho City for a quick BBQ lunch. I have a tri-tip sandwich with a side of macaroni and cheese, which they do not even claim to be the best. We drive on to the hotel in Boise for formal showers, gear repacking and eventually a pizza dinner, compliments of John and Tony. Tomorrow we will fly home to our regularly scheduled programming.
