Over The Mountain: Part One

Editor's note: This is the first in a three-part series that will be published Thursdays in the Outdoors section of The Press.

There's a saying, "Of all the paths you take in life, make sure a few of them are dirt." The quote is attributed to "Anonymous," but the sentiment is universal, and can be argued further that the best journeys are made where there are no paths at all.

Having been raised on my family's cattle ranch south of Coeur d'Alene, and later making my home here with my husband, I've had the 22,000 acres bordering our land that make up the North and South Fork drainages of Mica Creek as my playground for the past 50 years. As a young girl I used to either hike or ride my horse in those foothills, and I would encounter neighbors hunting, fishing or riding all-terrain vehicles. Some were there to picnic for the day, others to camp a night or two along the creek. Even as a kid I knew it was a special place, and I always felt grateful for the privilege to ride there.

Although there are sections of state land on Signal Point, (commonly mistaken for Mica Peak, which is farther to the south), most of the property is owned by private timber companies who tolerated our trespass for decades. But as vandalism to their logging equipment and damage to the terrain from four-wheelers and motorcycles increased, so did the restrictions. Eventually access was cut off completely, much to the dismay of families who have recreated there for generations. Barricades were erected at entry points and signs were posted. Perhaps that's what was needed to get our attention, and once things settled down, a productive discussion began.

What came of those discussions was an agreement between the Godde Family Trust, Mica Bay Land Company and the Idaho Department of Fish and Game, to allow permitted access for hunting, fishing and recreation in April through May, and again from September through mid-February. Not a hunter myself, I nonetheless take advantage of this opportunity by lining up with the sportsmen for my free permit, administered and managed by IDFG, and by doing so agree to partner with them in stewardship of this paradise by reporting any illegal activity, picking up and hauling out garbage when I see it, and help to keep trails and roads open for access. The agreement stipulates that no motorized vehicles be allowed, which makes this destination even more attractive to those of us who prefer to travel by foot, bicycle or horseback, ensuring the peace and solitude that enhances the backwoods forest experience.

Along with the permit we are issued a map, detailing the property and terrain, and showing access points and areas not included within the boundary. Respecting these boundaries and following these rules ensures access for everyone into the future.

There was some discussion between my friends and neighbors whether or not to write this story, as it seemed prudent to keep this place a secret. But in light of recent vandalism to the roads, bogs and fragile meadows by illegal trespassers who cut fences and used four-wheel drive trucks to go "mudding," we agreed that the more enthusiasts that take advantage of these resources will aid in the partnership to report and inhibit illegal activities, giving offenders less opportunity to do so unobserved, which is a benefit to the private landowners that allow access.

Even though there are active logging operations underway during the year, there are ample roads and trails offering alternatives, which is advisable for the logger's convenience and more importantly, your safety. You can avoid hearing or running into them altogether if you plan your trips on the weekends when loggers take a break.

In May of last year my niece, Kelsey Mills, and friends Karen Anderson and Andrea Clark joined me for what we still refer to as an "epic adventure," embarking on horseback at 8 a.m., our destination up and over the mountain and down the other side, theoretically ending at Liberty Lake Park in Washington around 5 p.m.

Not sure what route to take or how long we'd be on the trail, we asked our husbands to meet us with our horse trailers in the park's equine parking lot, with a promise to call when we estimated we were about a half-hour away.

Knowing this would be an all-day trek, we carried basic emergency supplies, GPS systems, cellphones, ample food and tools for clearing trails. Although we had no intention of spending the night on the mountain, it would be foolhardy to travel that high in elevation without the gear for unexpected changes in weather or equipment for camping out if needed.

The beginning of our journey takes us along Creek Trail on the North Fork of Mica Creek, through crossings and past singing waterfalls and quiet pools, eventually reaching a series of small meadows bordered by aspen groves. In these meadows there are evidence of camps; with rock fire pits, hitching posts, rough-hewn tables and log chairs.

Along this road to the right there are meadows with apple trees, remnants of old home sites where, in the late 1800s, loggers lived in camps while working with draft horses to harvest the timber, which was hauled by rail to Mica Bay, and then floated by tugs to the mills. This industry came to an abrupt end with the historic 1910 wildfire, but you can still see the raised rail beds along the creek, and timbers from the track are visible in Mica Bay.

Once past these meadows the trail intersects an old logging road, and a gentle ascent of the mountain begins alongside tributaries to the creek, which is laddered with beaver dams. You can see muddy log chutes leading to the ponds, where beaver have slid on their tummies towing branches and sticks for their huts and dams.

We ease our horses into a comfortable pace, and settle back into our saddles, for our journey over the mountain has just begun.