Some Notes about Deadman Lake, the Wind River Mountains of Wyoming, 7.5 minute series US Geological Survey topos: St. Lawrence Basin, Paradise Basin, and Alpine Lake. 

The first attempt in 1989 to reach Deadman was a false start. This  was only our second trip ever into the Winds, we were still neophytes. We headed out on the West front at Boulder Creek Trailhead, up 26 miles to Hay Pass on pack horses. We left the cowboys and horses at Hay Pass and proceeded by foot down a spectacular unmarked trail, past the two Sassafras Lakes to Alpine Lake. It was only a short hop over to Deadman, but we never made it. We were having too much fun at Alpine.

To reach Alpine you need to be well healed if you don’t use horses.  It's a long way, and grinding hard work. It was the first and last time we will ever saddled up on pack horses. We returned the 30 miles home from Alpine on foot, promising each other we'd never take horses again. We'd rather walk to see the Wind River. Ugly animals, these.

Lingering at Alpine was easy.  We discovered the best fly-fishing to be had in the Winds, measured today against twenty-five years of trips.  There’s a trough, gouged by spring runoff, where the Middle Fork of Bull Creek enters the lake. It’s a long wade out to it. Once there, one finds lovely, 20-23" hybridized trout, stacked up and willing to eat anything you throw at them. There are also many cruisers to be had, but hard to see if the wind is blowing.

I’ve wondered when exotic genes are infused into the native cutthroat populations, such as here, if there is not permanent alteration in genetic composition, reducing survival and fertility. Certainly these hybrids are not nature’s way. But they seem healthy and are tough fighters.

Too many Wind River watersheds have been similarly hybridized by well meaning but shortsighted fishery folk, even, I'm told by the legendary Finis Mitchell. But lovely trout there are at Alpine and lots of them.

Due west of Alpine, a mile or so, are four lakes laced with Golden trout. We bushwhacked to these lakes on a memorable day hike. The watershed from the four lakes empties into the Middle Fork and is wild and wooly.

We finally made it to Deadman in 1993, four years later, from the East this time. We began at St. Lawrence Basin trailhead on the Wind River Reservation. (Permits are needed and available in Lander, Crowheart, or Ft. Washakie.) This route to Deadman is not a short one either, but far shorter than the long climb from the West.  One must first ascend Tybo pass, then it is a straight shot across expansive Paradise Basin to Steamboat Lake, where there are few fish, but a lovely overnight respite. The trail to Deadman snakes north from Steamboat, then turns west again. In '93 we saw fresh evidence of a huge Elk herd.  I’m told there are herds of 400-500 on the reservation. We have seen numerous smaller groups at high altitudes over the years, but never these big herds.

We were joined by our American Field Service son Amund, from Trondheim, Norway, who was part of our family that year. Today, Amund is a career Arctic warfare officer in the Norwegian Army, stationed in one the farthest most northern bases in the world, well above the Arctic Circle.  Cathy and I visited him, his wife and young child early summer 2006 via a coastal steamer out of Bergen. One of the first things he asked us about was Deadman, which he remembers fondly.

Few folks had ever ventured to Deadman until an outfitter set up operations at St. Lawrence Basin.  He packs in parties and leaves them stacked up like the trout at Alpine. He also services Sonnicant, Wykie, Solitude and other nearby lakes, all worthy trips we have  made, but without his help.  We hiked to and based camped at Sonnicant in 1996. Sister Joni's eyes were almost swollen shut by fairly rare black flies.  (During a canoe trip to Hudson’s Bay in 1969, we met Ojibwa Indians who spread sticky pine tar and ashes- Indian recipe- on their exposed body parts. They talked with arms flailing to fend off black flies.) Lake Solitude is a day hike from Sonnicant and rightfully named. It could be the most alone lake in Winds.

Selecting the prettiest spots in the Winds is not a decision I usually ask myself to make, but if I had to pick the prettiest spot, well, put it this way, I’ve a photo of Solitude Lake with Petroleum Mt. in the background overlooking my office desk. I reflect on the picture daily. On the other hand, the Temple Peaks over from Sweetwater Pass are incredible, so too, Dry Creek and Upper Glacier Lake, and then there’s the view over Bear’s Ear on Lizard Head trail, add Papoose Lake off the North Fork Trail to the Cirque to the mix and then I dare you to try to make a choice.

We hired an outfitter to spot food for us for the first time on our next trip to Deadman n 2002. As a result, we could stay longer, explore, paint, talk, read, fish, bird, wild flower, climb and catnap, not always in the same order every day. At the end of each day, there is an incredible evening show of jumping trout chasing the caddis hatch at the outlet of Deadman. It is not to be missed. Sarah, my daughter, niece Mara, and I spent a couple hours at dusk one evening rating jumps on a ten point scales. Lots of 9.5’s. Few jumps less than 7.0. Back flips, twists, half-gainers, the works.  We don't give 10's. The fish also performed for us, ungraded in 1993 and do so, I’m told, even without an audience and judges.

Shunting off from Steamboat Lake is a side trip to Hatchet Lake, full of nice rainbow. The route to Hatchet is the start of the trip over Windy Gap, another route to Deadman. We've heard it is beautiful, steep and difficult; and have never tried it. Word is there are skeletons of four pack horses that fell recently on their way down Windy Gap.
 
We hit a major storm (hail and snow the first week in Aug.) at Steamboat in 2002. We bedded down, shored up the tents, and banked part of the day "inside".  Not a bad place to be with a Wallace Stegner.

The eastern egress trip to Deadman is not a trip for the meek either.  Six miles to Tybo Pass, all uphill.  It's a long, full first day after a fairly long drive to the trailhead; then it is about 7 more miles across Paradise Basin to Steamboat, with another 6 or so up and down to Deadman.  Two nights in for us. The hike over Tybo is unrelenting. Plodding across Paradise Basin flats goes on forever, especially carrying a 55# pack in the summer heat.  From Steamboat to Deadman is a bit tricky because there are numerous trails not on the map.  Recommendation: stay with your compass and maps or you can easily find yourself headed in the wrong direction, especially bearing north from Steamboat. We wasted almost a couple hours very confused before we found the correct route to Deadman.  We somehow were mistakenly headed for Hatchett.

Bob and Beth from Atlanta joined us in ‘02 and Bob was keen to find our way out with his new hi- tech GPS. Had we been checking our compasses and maps regularly we still may have taken the wrong trail north of Steamboat, but we would have discovered our mistake so much sooner.  Bob was just learning to use the GPS, it was of limited  help and  added some to my confusion.

You can become easily confused on the Indian reservation. There are many trails not on the topos. If lost, the best thing to do is to keep cool, remember to stay together, realize you have gear to help you out and believe in your compass. Despite what you may have learned in the Boy Scouts, compasses usually don’t fib, they just get misused. Those who get lost, lie about the compasses not working right.

If you carry and use GPS equipment you miss out on a lot of fun sighting, orienting and untangling yourself from the confusion of being lost.  (We had similar problems with unmarked reservation trails out of Moccasin Lake and at Onion Meadows in route to Baptiste Lake in 1997.)

The drought took its toll on Deadman in 2002, water levels were way down. There was a surprising benefit.  Because of the low water, Bruce and Dave discovered a wade to a small island, later named by us as “Sarah's Island,” where the South Fork of Bull Creek wanders into the lake. Wading off the little island, daughter Sarah caught her first trout over 20". There was a run-off trough, just as at Alpine, with trout stacked up in a fabulous fishery. They had moved up from the depths of the lake to feed on a late afternoon hatch. Sarah and I caught 20 fish in a couple hours, 15-20". Four times we had fish on simultaneously.

A point I need to make is that the Winds can become stormy and then angry. We have had snows on many occasions in late July, early August and have been trapped on passes in lightning storms and have taken shelter for hours on day hikes at high altitudes with pelting horizontal hail storms and 50 knot winds. In one case, coming off a day hike up Washakie Pass, we found a safe small boulder "cave" in which we hunkered down and it served us well. Bruce needed my emergency space blanket and took shelter in a draw, as there was room only for two in the “cave” and we were four. He was day hiking in shorts, deceived by an early morning blue bird sky. We take good gear, but in this case, not enough. It's important to have complete rain gear with you always; weather can turn ugly, quickly. There are few places to hide in the Wind River when a storm blows.

I am 65 now (2006) and move a little slower these days. Our next generation, who are with us--the “kids”, have all grown up on these trails and are now in their late 20's and early 30's. Some are making babies, another generation to introduce to the Winds.  Come to think of it, I will be well into my 70's when all this could happen. Ah well, who knows. The grandkids should all have good genes and be able to carry a few pounds for old folk, the Wind River gods willing.

We are originally three dads (two MDs, Dave and my bro-in-law Bruce, his brother in spirit from med school days). Bruce's two young sons and I made our first WY group trip in 1984 organized for us by Kent, my college buddy from Dartmouth and coincidentally a medical school colleague of Bruce and Dave.  Kent has retired from a family practice in WY, there since 1966. (My first trip to the Wind River mountains actually occurred in 1968  when my old canoeing buddies and I checked out Fremont Lake on the way home to KC after  a terrifying trip down the Dean  River in British Columbia.)

By 1996, two very sturdy and athletic moms, Joni and Charl, joined our entourage. As the young-ins became old enough, they also joined our group, Mara (and later her beau, Joe), Meg, Sarah, Austin, Carrie (and her beau Carl), Alie, and Aaron.  This group now includes one PhD student-natural scientist, my Sarah, and two recently hooded PhD naturalists, Bruce’s son Aaron and Dave’s daughter Carrie. We get fabulous nature lectures when they are with us. They are all very experienced outdoors folk. Nephew and new poppa, nephew Aaron, is a geophysicist. He’s already published in Nature and has a job to look for anyone tempted to do underground nuclear testing.  Smart man to have on our side. My Sarah studies zoology/psychology, that is, brain chemistry and bird behavior as a National Science Foundation Fellow.  Carrie, Dave's daughter, is another NSF Fellow and likes oceans as much as mountains. As a marine ecological biologist, she finds ways to understand and save the coral reefs. She presently holds a post doc. In 2003, Carrie left for a Wind River trip from 75 feet below sea level in the Caribbean.  Three days later she was with us at 11,000 feet in the Winds. Such versatility! 

NSF Fellowships are competitive stipends awarded to the best budding science PhD students in the country. We are very proud of our “Fellows” who are two very talented “Ladies.” Carrie, her beau nice-guy Carl, and my Sarah have all taught environmental science in WY. 

We are lucky. These are all very wonderful, next gernerationalists, naturalists who will carry our traditions, but obviously with a lot more savvy. Here is a sample of some of their handiwork. Aaron, the plate geologist writes:

….the crust under the actively forming metamorphiccore complexes (MCCs) is 10-15 km thinner than the surrounding crust, an uncommon MCC observation (e.g. Basin and Range MCC's). Slow mantle velocities below the MCC's suggest that their uplift is mostly compensated in the mantle, not
by lower crustal flow as proposed for MCCs elsewhere.( “Mantle compensation of active metamorphic core complexes at Woodlark rift in Papua New Guinea,” Nature 22 August 2002)

Sarah says:

Brain areas outside the song control system, such as the medial preoptic nucleus (POM) and ventral tegmental area (VTA), have been implicated in regulating sexually motivated behaviors in birds, including song. The present study was designed to explore whether these regions, as well as three song control nuclei [area X, the high vocal center (HVC), and the robust nucleus of the arcopallium (RA)], might be involved differentially in song produced within compared to outside of a breeding contex. “Immediate early gene activity in song control nuclei and brain areas regulating motivation,” Journal of Neurobiology. 2005 Sept. 9).

They speak new, strange languages.

Among the other "next generationlists" are niece Mara who is a recent Masters recipient in environmental studies. Her boy friend Joe, with a similar Master's has hiked the whole of the Appalachian Trail. They now reside Colorado. Joe has “a to die for job” as of a nonprofit Director of Environmental Affairs, according to Mara. He joined us for our 2004 trip to the Deep Creek Lakes, a nifty guy, this Joe. Nephew Austin is as graceful an outdoorsman as anyone can be. He moves quietly, gliding across the forest floor with a soft gentle touch. At home in Oregon, he is busy; gracefully I’m sure, caring for four kids, all under 10. He joins us when he can. My other daughter Meg, master degreed computer programmer, works the software side  of university NSF grants in natural science, and has made a couple trips. Not as keen a hiker as her Sis, she is also very busy making babies and holding a partime job. Alie, Carrie’s sister, joined us heartily at Sonnicant.  She, how we respect her, works with troubled kids in WV.  Carl, married to Carrie, was with us at Sonnicant and with Carrie teaching environmental science in Wyoming. He is a nice guy despite being a Brown Bruin. Carl is into making money in real estate, with a MBA. But he’s doing it in an environmentally sound way, he says. If any one can figure that out, Carl can.

We may take all of our collective Wind River experience for granted, but we are leave-nothing-behind-no-new-fire-rings backpackers.  We do take liberty with our libations. You will find us serving very fine scotch before dinner and sometimes after diner as well.

We are all deeply respectful of what these long trips demand of us. In our many adventures we have been temporarily lost three times (almost always happens on the reservation because of the unmarked trails), seriously lost once but I was not with the group when they needed a sheriff’s search plane; we've needed the MDs for stitches for big cuts (twice), severe altitude sickness (twice), and bad hand infections (twice, one from the teeth of oversized brook trout).

If ever I return to Deadman, I'll use the outfitter to pack in food to lighten the load to about 45#. It's a nice idea for old backpackers. I’ve carried my share of 55-60# packs, with enough food for 11 days. (If you will not tell anyone, the past three years we have had an outfitter drop off food, including “boxed” Franzia Cabernet.)

Bottom line, Deadman holds a special place in our Wind River lives. It is wild and beautiful, as are all of the Winds. But with the growing number of the outfitter’s customers, the Winds they are a'changing.

I hope anyone who reads this will respect these pristine and wild mountains as much as we do, and attend to them carefully so others may enjoy them as well. These are wonderful and extraordinary places, rugged and demanding, hundreds of millions of years in the making but oh so fragile in many ways. So too are our memories of the Winds, long in the making, but fragile as I speculate about what happens when I can no longer hike them. When that happens, I know I have been very close to eternity at Deadman, spent time at Lake Solitude, and lived a week at Grave Lake, all with my wonderful memories.