As part of his journaling, Dad/Lamar kept old "Diary Books" (sometimes called Seven Star Diaries or Success Agendas). In each little book, there is a calendar page for each day. Dad had inserted separate pages when he had more to say about any particular event. In the box for 1978, inserted between 20 and 21 July, are six inserted pages, pages 1-12, on both sides of each page, very small, describing the Wind River Trip, 18-20 July 1978. Here's Dad's record of that trip, along with some corresponding photos from the Dropbox files ...
We packed our gear and got everything ready the night before – Monday. Scott had been in charge of food planning and purchases. We woke up early, about 4:30 Tuesday morning, and loaded the food and gear into the station wagon, and drove to the church, 5:15. We packed Bill Monson’s red suburban with kids, and packed Lee Thacker’s trailer with packs. Brian Crook drove the wagon to Morris’s to pick up a coat and then home to stash the wagon in the garage.
We had a nice prayer before we left and headed up to Wyoming, 5:30. We listened to stereo tapes, The Doobie Brothers, Three Dog Night, etc, and a little good music also. We got to Rock Springs about 9:30, but it was closed. We tried to find a restaurant open, but 2 or 3 were closed. We got gas ($8.20) and hit the WC. Then we went to a restaurant and had breakfast – me and 10 kids $22.00.
We continued on to Farson and tried to purchase fishing licenses. They sold the boys several licenses for $2.00 but then determined that they had made a mistake. The boys over 14 were considered adults and had to buy the $5.00 license. They had to turn their $2.00 license back in and then they ran out of $5.00 licenses. They sent us on, about 47 miles up the road and about 20 miles out of our way. They announced they had no out of state d day licenses. They sent us on to Pinedale, another 11 miles up the road. We purchased the remainder of fishing licenses in Pinedale, and then traveled back, where we took the side road toward the Wind River range. We had been able to see the rugged mountains to the right of us as we traveled from Rock Springs.
We traveled on a paved road for about 20 miles and then it turned to dirt and got worse and worse as we got nearer the mountains. We saw many antelope in the sagebrush as we drove along. The weather had been hot and sunny the entire trip, but thunderclouds built up over the Wind River mountains as we got closer. We crossed the beautiful river leading from the Big Sandy opening of the Wind River. We stopped to look at the river (for fish) and to let off steam. Then we continued up the terrible dirt and rock road another 2 miles where the parking lot was located for hikers in the Big Sandy area. There were about 20 cars parked at the bottom.
We got our packs together and were about to start up the trail, when Brian Morris discovered his boots missing. We guessed that they have bounced out during the last 2 miles of road. We were in the last parking spot, so we had the boys reserve the spot with packs, etc. while Brian, Chris and I traveled down the road. There were trucks working on the road, so the workmen held us up each passage and probably wondered why we were traveling back and forth so much. We traveled back down where we had stopped earlier, and there were the boots lying right beside the spot where we had stopped. We reasoned that Steve Pettegrew had taken them out in order to check out his pet nightcrawlers, tuck them in, etc, and had forgotten to put them (the boots) back. Of course, Steve wouldn’t admit it.
We traveled back up to our reserved parking space, and during the trip up, the dark clouds suddenly gathered, and it started to hail, hailstones about an inch in diameter. We felt sorry for the scouts we had left behind, and especially for our packs. When we got back, it had stopped hailing momentarily, and most of the scouts had taken refuge under nearby trees. They had also placed the packs under vehicles close by. When we got packed, the hail began again, and all the scouts huddled in the suburban. The hail lasted for another 10 minutes and then subsided. We decided to try the trail and warily donned our packs and set out – with very threatening skies all around.
We started hiking about 4:30 PM and the trail was mostly covered with ½ inch of hail, and a little muddy. We had to make a few stops under pine trees for the first mile or two to get out of some rain showers, but for the most part the weather cooperated very well.
We hiked up about 6 ½ miles to Big Sandy Lake. Seven scouts were in the lead and were about ½ mile ahead of the other four. Regan Eardley, Mark Huyboom, Brian Morris and I were trailing. We slow hikers caught up with the others at Big Sandy. We rested a bit. A few tried to fish (with no success), and we decided to hike the rest of the way up to Black Joe Lake, another 1 ½ miles.
The trail up to Big Sandy was beautiful, and most of the way, and most of the way we hiked parallel to a beautiful river coming out of Big Sandy. A few fishermen could be seen, catching some small fish. We hiked around the Big Sandy Lake, fighting mosquitoes all the way. The trail around Big Sandy was semi-muddy, and at first, we went to great pains to hop rocks and keep our feet dry while fording the many small streams. Finally, about ¾ of the way around Big Sandy, the rivers became larger and we gave up all thoughts of keeping our feet dry and just tromped thru the last 5 or 6 streams. There were a few tents pitched at Big Sandy. We talked to a few and then continued on the trail, straight up, to Black Joe. On fording the last stream, Regan tried to cross on a log and fell in, dripping wet all over. He was cold and wet and was about ready to give up right there.
At this time, some of the scouts had gone on ahead and five of us were about ½ mile behind. I decided that 2 of us, Mark Huyboom and I would try to catch the others, and Jestin Hays and Regen would hike slower – and we would send others back to help Regen with his pack. I got ahead of Mark and the trail began to peter out. It began to be covered with small patches of snow, and as we continued – larger patches of snow. It was beginning to get dusk and we were all spread out. A few prayers and fast hiking, and I finally caught up with the remainder of the group, although the trail was almost non-existent, a few tracks could be seen here and there.
Brian Crook and Ted Paulsen had gone ahead of the rest of the group, in search of the camping spot, since the advance group became concerned that they had lost the trail. After a few minutes, the two scouts came back and said the camping place was ahead, about 1/2 mile. We decided to hike there quickly, release our packs, and leave some scouts to set up camp while four or five of us returned, with flashlights, to help the remaining three. And after a word of prayer, we did just that. It was getting dark very quickly, and we hurried back down the trail, over the snow. First we found Mark Huyboom, who wasn’t sure if he was lost or not, since the trail was so sparse. Then a little further we located Jestin and Regan. They had hiked further than we had thought they would – luckily. We helped them with their packs and we quickly returned to the camp spot. The tent had been set up, a fire built, and we thought that was a great sight.
We had a quick meal, tried to dry our wet clothes, over the roaring fire. We had a group prayer, thanking the Lord for the safe hike, and settled in our tents. Chris and I were in Bob’s four-man tent, Scott and Steve were in Scott’s tent, Regan and Mark were in Regan’s family tent. Brian C, Ted, and Brian Morris were in a 2 man tent, and Steve Pettigrew and Jestin were in a 2 man tent. The night was very cold, and I never really did get warm. I only got about an hour sleep.
The next morning we took our time rolling out of bed. The camp was situated about 75 yards from a beautiful stream, about ¼ mile below Black Joe Lake. We had an unorganized breakfast and got into the business of fishing. The day warmed up considerably. Steve Pettegrew caught the first few fish, during our breakfast, in the stream. I hiked up to the lake, but caught nothing. We caught some fish in the stream and later Chris and I hiked up to the lake again and caught 6 or 7. We cooked some fish that evening along with hash browns.
I moved our tent to a more level location, since I had slept so poorly the previous night. The previous spot had a slope, up and down and sidewards, and was moist because it was near to a melting snowbank about 30 yards uphill. We had a night of better sleep, much warmer, more level. We had some breakfast and began to pack, Chris and I, for our hike down the mountain. We discovered our fish were gone. We had hidden them in a snowbank close by camp, on a stringer, about 5 or 6 fish. The stringer and all were gone. Some of the other scouts had put their fish in a side stream in a net. They were gone too. We assumed that a beaver, badger, skunk, bear, etc. had made a nice meal.
Scott and Steve Thacker decided to hike down with us, so we reluctantly let them. We had met the ranger the day before and he had informed us that we were camped too close to the stream and the trail – that there was a new rule in our area that camping was only allowed outside of 200 yards from a stream or a trail, and we were right next to both, between the two. So the rest of the scouts had to make preparations to move camp, up the hill about midway between the river and another lake.
The four of us bid adieu to the remaining seven and began hiking down. We were to meet Bob Caldwell on the trail up, and give him further instructions on how to locate the camp. Bob drove our Honda up Wednesday eve and slept in the Suburban Wednesday night. We had an uneventful hike down, making fairly good time. Whenever we stopped, we would get attacked by swarms of mosquitoes. We met Bob on the trail, about 2 miles from the bottom. We met by the river where we saw many small fish. We gave him instructions on how to find the camp and then continued on down, while he continued on up.
We hiked down to our cars, put some of our gear in the Suburban and the rest in our Honda. We traveled on down the road in the Honda, taking the road to Farson. Bob said that he ran over 3 rabbits on the way up the previous night, and we counted 4 or 5 fresh carcasses, along with dozens of older ones. We saw a few antelope also. We drove to Farson, bought $2 worth of gas, and drove on to Rock Springs, another $4 of gas (fill). We had dinner at the Arctic Circle in Rock Springs, $7.60, the four of us. We continued on home. We stopped at a nice rest stop, arriving home at 8:00.
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