He was magnificent, with a thick coat of bright red fur darkening to black down his legs and tail. On my way back I saw the fox sniffing around my tent. I put my fly-rod together and went up to the lake to swim and try the fishing. I wasn’t planning on building a fire so I left it there. Someone had left a pine pole cantilevered over the fire pit, with one end sticking up in the air. I set up my tent across the stream from a well-used kitchen area with a nice fire ring and good sitting stones. We held eye contact for a few beats, then he dropped his gaze and slipped into the woods. I looked up and saw a big red fox staring at me from the edge of the meadow. I dropped my pack and wandered through tall grass looking for a flat tent site.

When I got there the meadow was bathed in that golden late summer afternoon light. A small stream flowed out of the lake and down through a big grassy meadow, which offered plenty of good campsites. I don’t remember the name of the lake I visited, but it was an easy hike in on a fairly flat trail.

I take very little food and eat a lot of trout.Ībout fifteen years ago I went into the White Clouds, a part of the SNRA I wasn’t familiar with, just for a change. I set up camp and stay put for four or five days, exploring a bit, fishing, and jumping off high rocks into clear, freezing water during the heat of the day. I like to backpack into some stunningly beautiful high mountain lake, slow and heavy style.

I’ve been traveling from Boston to the Sawtooths every other year or so for the last twenty-five.

I think i saw people sitting on clouds