Trey's 2nd Backpacking Trip, Lost Twins Lakes, Bighorn Mts, Wyoming

Trey and I decided to do our backpacking trip in Wyoming this year.  It’s been an incredibly busy summer with scouts, long vacations, swimming lessons, and other events that we just decided to do our trip this year while we were in Wyoming on vacation.  This way Grandpa V. could come along with us as well, and I could show Trey the area where Grandpa and I used to backpack and fish.

Julie and I arrived in Worland around 3:00 am on Thursday from Alaska.  After waking up in the late morning Trey and I worked on gathering our gear and food for the trip.  We were ready to leave around 2:00, and I took off on my bike.  (I had had about a 10 day break from Ironman training, and needed to get a ride in).  The plan was for me to ride up to Deer Haven Lodge where Grandpa and Trey would have left the truck and taken off to the trailhead on the 4-wheeler.  Well...the all-wise (tongue in cheek) forest service apparently made the first part of that road illegal to non-license plated four-wheelers to drive on recently.  So while I rode up the mountain, Grandpa and Trey cruised up and down the old road on the 4-wheeler, hollered at me from the other side of the canyon, and practiced hand signals (waved).  It was fun having my own little cheer section.  It was a steep climb made even more brutal by 95 degree heat.  That’s all right though.  It’s what I needed.

By the time we got to the trailhead it was dinner-time, and by the time we got geared up and hiking it was just before 9:00 pm.  Those familiar with my backpacking trips as a kid know that departure time was standard.  It was only right to carry on the tradition:)  The problem, however, was that we were leaving in a lightning storm, and the first mile was along a ridge.  At first it was cool to see the flashes illuminate the woods, then listen to the booming, echoing thunder because the strikes were 10-20 miles away.  When they started to get within 5 miles while bringing some rain, it became not so cool.  We picked up the pace as quickly as we could, and got off the ridge, a little over a mile into the hike.  We found a nice low spot in what we now call lightning valley, set up the tent, and went to sleep.  Well, slept in between flashes and booms, that is.  That ridge is now known in the Varney family as "Lightning Ridge."

Trey getting ready to attach "Monster Hill."  (See paragraph below)

The next morning brought us some nice weather, and we loaded up and were off.  The next hill was not-so-affectionately named “monster hill” by us kids many years ago.  It’s about a mile long hill, that just keeps going up.  At the bottom of the hill Trey was excited to tackle the challenge saying, “this will probably be easy.”  Judging my the increasing questions of “are we at the top?”, rest breaks, and intense sense of triumph at the top, he found out that it was not an easy hill.  We cruised on down to Emily’s meadow and fixed some breakfast.  

Monster Hill is conquered!

 After breakfast, it was only another mile to Mirror Lake, where we had potentially planned to set up camp.  The fishing typically is not great at Mirror, and since we were filling good and making good time, we decided to make the push to Lost Twins.  Both dad and I thought that Lost Twins Lakes were only a mile or two away, so we decided to truck on up there.  After 3.1 more miles of “up” we crested the ridge and saw the lakes nestled beneath gargantuan granite cliffs.  Total one way?  6.2 miles.  1,100 feet of elevation gain total, but lots of ups and downs, all above 9,100 feet.  (That’s a big deal for those of us coming from sea level:))

Mirror Lake

Lost Twins Lakes is at the base of the cliffs in the background (scroll right).

Getting ready to make the last push to Lost Twins.

These lakes are just incredibly beautiful.  Deep bluish green in color and full of fish.  The cliffs are very Yosemite-esque for those who have been to Yosemite.  Simply beautiful.  While I love the mountains here in Western WA, I miss those mountains.

We fished the rest of the afternoon and evening.  The fish in there were nice 12-14 inch cutthroat, who fought well, and tasted better.  We only kept a couple (for some great eats).  Trey didn’t have much luck, which was discouraging to him.  I had to convince him that grandpa and I had been fishing for many years, and that he was just a beginner and learning, so it was all right that he wasn’t catching much.  We assured him that the next day we would take a stop in Emily’s meadow where he would catch gobs of fish.

Well, some more lightning, thunder, and rain rolled in again in the evening, so we cleaned up and crawled inside the tent.  I forgot to grab a sleeping pad, and the ground was, well, rocky.  Needless to say, it was not a great night of sleep.  

We woke up in the morning to cold weather and threatening clouds shrouding the peaks.  Fire were prohibited that high (10,200 feet), so it was a little tough for a little guy like Trey to warm up.  We we packed up as quickly as we could and just barely beat the hail storm.  Luckily, when the hailstorm hit, we were low enough that we found some tree cover and some protection from the pellets.  Once it passed, we continued our journey. 

We got to Emily’s meadow around lunch time (but not before Trey took care of some business on Sara’s Poo Hill).  It has now been renamed to STP hill (Sara and Trey’s Poo Hill).  Emily’s meadow, and subsequent streams were just as I remember them, teaming with tons of 8-10 inch feisty brooke trout.  Both dad and I caught one on our first casts.  Trey was stoked.  Dad let me use his fly rod since it made casting and catching in the small streams much easier.  And before he knew it (with some hand on hand help), Trey was catching fish.  While the little guys were small, Trey wanted to keep a couple of “his” fish for breakfast the next day.  So we kept two and released a bunch.  Tons of fun!  It’s definitely in Trey’s blood because as we were getting ready to leave he kept saying, “just one more cast dad!  Just one more cast!”  Music to my ears!

Emily's Meadow.  I love this place!

We ate a bit of lunch, and began the last push out to the truck, about 2.5 more miles.  They are not easy miles for an adult, which translated to some pretty tough miles for a little guy carrying a pack, but he did it!  12 miles round trip in basically 2 days over rough terrain with a pack.  I am an incredibly proud dad.  

I asked Trey how he felt when we got to the truck and he said, “Excited!!!  Well, really tired, but excited at the same time.”  What an accomplishment!  All of the other hikers on the trail couldn’t believe that he was only 7 and had done the whole thing.     Here's looking forward to many more adventures with my kids!