A Backpacker’s paradise
I often find myself dreaming about an alpine oasis. Tucked away in some hard to reach place, complete with towering peaks and glaciers and chilly blue lakes stocked with wild trout. A place I feel really only exists in those dreams or on Instagram, or maybe it was somewhere in the dog eared pages of my dad’s old Backpacker magazines I flipped through as a kid.
Hoping to beat the Labor Day crowds and escape Colorado’s smoky summer, we packed the car and set our sights north to Wyoming. I was giddy about returning to the Winds after my first visit 3 years earlier when I completed the Cirque of the Towers loop. I’d been telling Alex and Josiah, my good friends and partners on this trip, about these mountains ever since, so I was hoping they would live up to the expectations I set. This time, our objective was the Titcomb Basin, a collection of alpine lakes nestled in a massive bowl beneath Fremont Peak in the Wind River range.
The number of cars in the trailhead parking lot had us feeling a bit apprehensive. After all, we were hoping to beat the crowds not hike in with them. Fortunately it seemed like most of these people were already out on the trail and only a handful were starting at the same time.
We welcomed the shade of the trees that Thursday morning as we made our way up the trail under an increasingly warming sun. After a few miles of hiking through dense forests, we would have all voted for a first look at the range even if it meant we’d lose our shade. Sure enough, 5 gradually uphill miles later we arrived at the aptly named Photographer’s Point, a day-hike turn-around point for many.
I walked out to the edge of the cliff and smiled, I’m back. What lay before me seemed like an infinite sea of granite, dotted with alpine lakes and distant glaciers, guarded from above by Fremont Peak, the third highest mountain in Wyoming at 13,751’.
A few more miles of steep climbing in the hot afternoon sun and we arrived to camp for the night at Seneca Lake. I was in the water within 5 minutes and convinced the boys to join me for an icy swim.
The next day the trail shifted from forests and meadows to alpine lakes and stark peaks. A welcome transition as we pushed closer to our goal.
Then around a bend and over a small pass lay the view from my dream. Island Lake appeared before us with Fremont Peak and the Titcomb Basin looming above in the distance. This was it. Endless terrain to explore, lakes to fish, peaks to climb. It was a playground. My alpine oasis. You could spend a month in this zone and never get bored.
The majority of backpackers camp on the southern side of Island Lake and since this is such a popular trail on a holiday weekend, we decided to hike up the hill on the north side and camp in our own private oasis. Set back well off the main trail we’d have our own waterfalls and ice baths, smooth sunning rocks, a healthy source of food in the form of fresh trout, and most importantly total silence and zero neighbors.
This place was wild. Sitting on a rock by the falls, I watched countless golden trout attempt, and fail, to jump upstream to the lakes above. A seemingly unproductive endeavor. But then again, they’ve made it up this far so I can’t say it’s impossible.
The next morning I was forced out of bed when the sun turned my tent into a sauna and the three of us discussed our plans for the day. Alex, being Alex, couldn’t pass up the opportunity to climb Fremont Peak. Now at home in Colorado I don’t think I could ever turn down a summit like this, but right now, that wasn’t a part of this backpacking dream of mine.
I hadn’t had much time for fishing yet and since we had an entire day to spend around base camp, I chose to fish, swim, and unwind while Alex slogged up the face of Fremont and Josiah relaxed with a journal and some poetry. After landing some of my first ever golden trout, the prettiest fish I have ever caught, I took a long swim and a nap on my granite sunning rock. A deep breath and a thoughtful look at my surroundings confirmed that this was it. This little slice of paradise is the most peaceful place in the world to me. The escape, the reset, the relaxation.
I closed my eyes as I lay back on the rock. The sun warming my pink skin as I thawed from the swim. Just behind my head small ripples lapped onto the rocks in a broken rhythm that attempted to lull me to sleep. Overhead, not a cloud in the sky, and on every horizon, layers of craggy peaks dotted with small glaciers and patches of last winter’s snow. Paradise.
Stay adventurous.
-Nate
p.s. If you choose to visit this area, remember to follow Leave No Trace guidelines and treat the land with respect. You are on Shoshone and Absaroka (Crow) land.
