By Shane Vlcek
I spent most of my adulthood in the western states of Idaho, Montana, and Oregon. Experiencing the backcountry was always something I looked forward to. But finding the opportunity and time to explore those sacred Wilderness places where true freedom is no longer in front of the next step or beyond the next ridgeline had always been a chance experience rather than a lifestyle.
While I was living in Eugene, Oregon, and my daughter was completing her master’s degree in archeology at Boise State, we decided escaping into the Wilderness was the perfect remedy to treat the sluggishness that too many of us refer to as modern life.
A three-day backpacking trip in the Mount Jefferson Wilderness in Oregon started our journey nearly seven years ago. There were several large fires in northern California that summer, so the segment of the Pacific Crest Trail we hiked was amazingly quiet. My old dog, Honey Bear, trekked along with us and made good use of the cold water at every stream crossing and alpine lake. She played with the toads along the desolate shoreline and wondered at a small herd of mountain goats above the trail. On the last few miles of our hike, we casually bumped into an elderly gentleman from Germany, I believe he was in his seventies, who was solo hiking the PCT. Amazing! We shared a few stories along the way, and each of his ended with, “And then I had a beer.” Joyful reminiscing about our acquaintance from Germany has become a staple of every subsequent backpacking trip. No matter how hard the trail gets, we always look forward to a beer at the end!
In subsequent years, we have backpacked the Sequoia-Kings Wilderness in Sequoia National Park in California. I had a way-to-close (and thankfully peaceful) encounter with a sow black bear and her two cubs. I also had altitude sickness from leaving my home in Wisconsin at nine hundred feet above sea level to backpacking at over ten thousand feet the following afternoon. I cursed to myself about the backcountry endurance athletes who passed me on the trail with mocking ease. I don’t think anyone has ever said that Wilderness comes easy. After a few doses of ibuprofen for my splitting headache, we had a chance to sit back and enjoy the giant sequoia trees and the endless granite peaks. The views there were incredible. I will never forget it.
We trekked around the Boise National Forest in Idaho the following year in a vast roadless area that will someday be designated Wilderness as part of the Northern Rockies Ecosystem Protection Act (NREPA). Just because it isn’t Wilderness now certainly doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be! We stumbled upon an occupied goldmine while backpacking about five miles up a creek drainage near the rustic outpost of Twin Springs. The appearance of the old miner was classic—wavy brimmed hat, shaggy gray beard, and a .45 pistol dangling from his waist. He invited us into his 12’ x 12’ wood panel shack that he calls home for some chocolate no-bake cookies. Delicious. A Steller’s jay perched on his shoulder. At the same time, he told us about the community of beloved black bears that would raid his strawberry patch in midsummer. I found solace that he considered it a community garden and everything there was to share. We picked a few berries before leaving.
Since then, we have been to the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness in Minnesota with more family members—ages ranged from 7 to 77, proving Wilderness can be for everyone. Traveling by canoe is easier on the feet but not necessarily on the back. If you want to see loons and bald eagles, the Boundary Waters is the place to go. My daughter and I returned to Oregon a few years ago and backpacked the Diamond Peak Wilderness. We picked up trash along a secluded lake and hauled it out at the end of our trip. We discovered an entire can of Mountain Dew, A&W Root Beer, and a can of sparkling water in the scattered debris for our efforts. Being a good steward really pays off!
Lastly, this past summer, we backpacked the Olympic Wilderness in Olympic National Park in Washington. We started at the Hoh River Trailhead and trekked to the Blue Glacier, with a few overnight campground stops. The last four miles to the glacier were brutal. Still, we kept thinking we’d be there in another fifteen minutes and reminisced about having a beer when it was all over. The views along the way and at the glacier didn’t disappoint. And I was passed by only one endurance athlete! We laughed at the misery in our feet when it was all over, and the beer still tasted terrific.
Since their inception, our backpacking adventures have turned into a type of annual therapy. It’s something we plan for and must do. Wilderness definitely requires effort; it doesn’t just come to you—thankfully. It is not only good medicine for the body; it does wonders for relationships and the soul.
For our dose of Wilderness next year—Isle Royale in Michigan!
Shane Vlcek is a daydreamer and wanderer of public lands. He is an appreciator of all things wild, from bumblebees to bison, but his favorite animals are wolves and the great horned owl. Shane is a U.S. Navy combat veteran and currently works as an emergency medicine physician assistant in Eau Claire, Wisconsin.
Editor’s notes:
“Wilderness Experienced” is our shared stories and musings about recent experiences in our nation’s Wildernesses. Stories focus on the virtues of Wilderness and/or challenges facing the National Wilderness Preservation System. We want to hear your story! Learn more and submit a story.