A Sawtooth Celebration | OUTDOOR IDAHO

This is a very interesting video about the Sawtooth Mountains in Idaho.

In 1972 the Sawtooths—along with the White Cloud and the Boulder Mountains—became part of the Sawtooth National Recreation Area, administered not by the National Park Service but by the U.S. Forest Service. How this came to be is a story worth the telling. Forty years ago, Idaho was at the forefront of the nation's environmental movement, electing a governor who pledged to save Castle Peak and the White Clouds from the degradation of an open-pit mine. We celebrate the 40th anniversary of the Sawtooth National Recreation Area by examining this remarkable period in Idaho's history, exploring what was gained, what was lost and what is yet to be considered.

Thank you to Outdoor Idaho for this presentation.

She Was Not So Deer To Me

In the region of North Idaho between the cities of Coeur d’Alene and Kellogg, there lies a beautiful stretch of river known as the North Fork of the Coeur d’Alene River. Here is where an unusual event took place between me and a not so dear deer.

There are many wonderful campsites along the North Fork that offer spacious secluded spots with many of them sitting right on the banks of this crystal clear river. Some of these sites have campground hosts and charge a small fee per night for your stay. Many of the sites are free and this is where I chose to stay for my weekend adventure. The site had great shade, a perfect swimming hole and was off the road enough so I thought I would not be disturbed by any humans so I could enjoy a nice quiet couple of days. Well, it was not the humans I should have been concerned about after all. I never thought a small female deer could be so much trouble.

It all started on my first night while I was having a nice camp dinner of spaghetti, garlic bread and salad. In the middle of my feast, I left the campsite for a minute to get some water from the river. Down at the river, I heard a sound coming from my camp table. I forgot about getting my water and hurried back to my table only to find my dinner on the ground with a beautiful doe munching on the spaghetti. I was quiet and watched her eat the rest of my food and when she was done, she sniffed around the campsite for a while and slowly meandered down the river bank.

This was fun and exciting for me to see and I was thankful for the experience until the next morning. What a great feeling it is to wake up to the sound of a rushing river and the crisp mountain air, I thought, as I began cooking my breakfast of scrambled eggs, potatoes and bacon. The coffee was perfect, the breakfast tasted better than any other and once again, I found myself in the presence of my dear deer friend. With her nose up in the air sniffing the aroma of my cooking, she seemed to have little fear of me. As beautiful as this deer was, I shooed her off so I could actually finish this meal but my shooing did little to keep her away from my table. The doe would not come up to me but she did come within three or four feet with her mouth watering and her lips smacking. I gave in to her hunger and threw her some eggs and potatoes. She gobbled this food down quickly and wanted more. “That’s all you get!” I told her and she eventually left but not before relieving herself of some of her pellets on my site.

I love to hike more than just about anything in my life so after breakfast, I set off for a short five mile excursion along a trail that went to a gorgeous mountain meadow well above the river. After two or three hours of some great scenery and rugged terrain, I was back at the campsite ready for a snack and a cool drink. Normally when I camp, I am not too worried about putting my cooler away until I go to bed so I had left it out under my table. Like I said, normally this is fine but not this weekend. My cooler had been tipped completely over with food and ice scattered everywhere. Plastic wrappings that held a variety of different food items had been chewed open and whatever was in them was gone. The only thing left was my raw eggs and bacon. I did not even think twice about who the burglar of my food was. Can you guess?

I was not really upset about this and it gave a great story to tell you. Luckily, there was a small store and restaurant just down the road a few miles so In case you were worried if I starved that weekend, I did not. I did learn a valuable lesson about putting away my food when leaving the campsite. I also learned from a forest ranger that I was not the only person in the area that had been visited by this deer. The doe had been going around to many of the campsites the entire summer and had actually had been given a name from a group of campers a few weeks prior to my visit. The name they chose was Frita, for the deer’s insatiable love of Fritos.

Attack Of The Bear

She talked about it; she dreamed about it, she never let it go. This was how a friend of mine regarded her fear of coming across a bear when we would go hiking in the wilderness areas of Idaho. Her character was strong in all other ways. She was kind, hard working, intelligent, prosperous and loving. But when the word “bear” crosses those ears of hers, she turns to Jell-O.

In other words, her life was somewhat Un-Bear-Able!

We were hiking in the spring in the Coeur d’Alene mountains going for a 10 mile excursion to visit one of the beautiful alpine lakes that are plentiful throughout this part of Idaho. We packed a lunch, threw on our backpacks and set off for a glorious day of exercise and becoming one with nature.

My friend, however, was nervous and carried a canister of bear spray (kind of like pepper spray only for bears) with her just in case (which is always a good idea anyway). I assured her that bears were harmless in this area. Only black bears roamed the woods here…no grizzlies I told her. Yet she was set out to believe that a bear was a bear and in her mind, they were all very very bad.

After about an hour of vigorous hiking we sat down for a minute to take a drink of our water and take in the natural beauty that surrounded us. SNAP! went a tree branch just up the trail and there it was…everything she ever imagined in her worst nightmares was in front of her. It was, you guessed it, a big black 10 foot growling snarling bear! Actually, that is how she remembers it. It was actually a small female black bear just crossing the path about 50 yards in front of us.

My good friend screamed, grabbed a hold of me and started to shake. I joined in with the screaming part because the first thing you do when you come across a black bear is make a lot of noise to scare it off. So I figured, what the heck, I might as well scream too to make her feel better.

Well, the bear scurried off, my friend almost fainted and I laughed till I cried. I gave her a few minutes for her heart to slow down from it’s 160 beats a minute and then I calmly and gently said to her, “You see, bears are not going to hurt you”. She calmly said to me, “We got lucky this time buster”. Well, needless to say, this experience did not help her fear of bears but only increased the intensity of her phobia.

We still did go on hikes together and my friend was more at peace in the wilderness like never before. No, she did not get over her extreme terror of bears. No, her dreams did not stop. And she did not make peace with this precious animal.

When we returned to our city dwellings after that last hike, my dear loveable sweet caring friend immediately called up a shooting gallery, enrolled in a class to learn how to shoot a gun, and decided to carry a pistol on her side whenever we roamed the hills and valleys of bear country (just in case, she says). My friend did feel less nervous and seemed to enjoy our hikes like never before. Me, I felt sorry for the poor bear.