Regardless of your age, backpack anyway

We knew our backpacking trip in early August would be different. It would be the first time since 1980 that we'd be backpacking without our son, Brian. We also knew that some things would be the same.

In 1980, my wife, Sheree, and I wrote several outdoor articles on backpacking and cross-country skiing with a baby. Sheree was a reporter for the Idaho Press-Tribune. Obviously, I'm still writing outdoor articles for the IPT.

On Brian's first backpacking trip, a bear checked out our camp. At Loon Lake recently, we were greeted at the trailhead with signage, noting a bear had been frequenting the area. The B-23 "Dragon Bomber" that crashed at the end of the lake in 1943 is still there.

I mused as I perused the 1980 articles. When Brian was just four weeks old, we wrote that "experts" had urged us to "accept our period of confinement" and basically stare at the newborn. Instead, we decided letting him see Mother Nature up close was better than confining him to a crib and a plastic mobile.

Fast forward to today. The "experts" still want to confine us. The focus is just different. Well-intentioned folks suggest that we should curtail activities in remote areas. "What happens if you have a heart attack?" they ask. My response never changes. "What happens if I stay home and clog my arteries by watching television?"

We didn't take an emergency beacon in 1980. I don't think they existed. We still don't. We still don't take bear spray, although we do take a bear-resistant food canister. At 34, Brian does offer us various "modern" items to carry, like GPS. Thanks, but no thanks. We go to the backcountry to unplug, not to simply change our location.

I have made one concession due to age. I used to have hair. As a Medicare Man, I don't have much now. That means I save money on haircuts but spend more on sunscreen to protect my baldpate.

see BACKPACK, D2

BACKPACK

from D1

In that we do backcountry outings during the weekdays, it's rare that we see anyone. Even at the popular Loon Lake, we've never shared the lake with more than two people. This trip was definitely different.

Shortly after we put our packs down at the lake, two dirt bikers arrived. They were new to Idaho. Within a few minutes, we found out that we both had something in common. The dad is a bike mechanic at the Brundage Mountain Resort for the summer. I'm a mobile bicycle mechanic.

Next, we greeted 14 Boy Scouts from Boise, who were on a weeklong outing. The Scoutmaster worried that the kids might make too much noise for us. I assured him that with 50 years of combined experience of working with youth, Sheree and I preferred seeing kids being outdoors having fun - without electronic devices.

I find it unfortunate that various outdoor groups seem to spend more time in litigation to prevent another group's access instead of embracing the "mixed-use" concept on public lands.

Early on Day 2, eight horse riders came to rest a spell and let the horses and grandkids play in the lake ... along with the Scouts. We all shared a laugh when the one granddaughter was bucked off into the lake while trying to stand on her horse's back.

We weren't done serving as impromptu camp hosts. Seven mountain bikers put down their "metal steeds" while they replenished their water. Six additional dirt bikers arrived. Two more backpackers, in their 60s, passed through.

Each user group was courteous. We got to the lake by different means, but all shared a common goal of being outdoors. We mixed quite well.

Returning to civilization was the only downer, particularly when the "check engine" light came on before we even left the trailhead parking lot.