Last Valentine’s Day, I gave Jason a year’s worth of quality time in monthly installments. I’ll get more into the details of that on another occasion but, for now, I’m just going to cover our most recent quality outing.
I do a lot of photo experimentation these days; that dot on the fence is Jason.
My scheme for August was a picnic at Arrowhead Summit, which is located at the top of Sundance Resort. Up on that 8,250-foot ridge, the Heber and Utah Valleys sprawled on either side of us like sleepy companions while a grassy spot in the shade served as our living table.
We found the perfect grassy patch shaded by a cropping of aspens on which to picnic.
We brought an eclectic but tasty assortment of fresh fruit, crisp veggies, hard-boiled eggs, salad, rolls and cookies for our alfresco dinning. It may sound like a tummy ache in a handbasket but it settled nicely.
The view from our picnic point was pretty remarkable.
After we stuffed ourselves with those diverse victuals, we decided to wander halfway down the mountain instead of taking the lift. If we had had more time for quality time that afternoon, we would have gone on a real hike but, sadly, this downhill ambling was all we could fit in.
I wouldn’t call this hiking; it was more like walking on a mountain.
It’s not often a girl gets to cozy up with her man and a mountain all in the same afternoon. I was fortunate and full indeed.
Idaho isn’t frequently considered a touristy place. Sure, their potatoes are pretty good but I’m not convinced those tubers bring in the crowds. However, Jason and I recently traveled to a slice of Idaho that was perfect for venturesome vacationers such as us.
At Shoshone Falls, the Snake River drops 212 feet. That’s more than 50 feet further than Niagara.
McCall is a small town situated in the middle of Payette National Forest and on the shores of Payette Lake. It’s a couple hours north of Boise. Hiking, river rafting, mountain biking, boating and horseback riding are all offered near its borders. We became aware of McCall’s existence about six months ago and promptly planned to retreat there.
Just five minutes in the heat and sand of Bruneau Dunes and this happened.
The drive to McCall took us over seven hours. That’s a little too long for my restless tastes but we split up the journey a little by stopping at Shoshone Falls on the way up and Bruneau Dunes on the way back. While we spent less than an hour at each of these detours, they offered us a welcomed chance to unfold our limbs and discover new territory.
And another five minutes later…
Although we were expecting McCall to be an outdoorsy town, we were surprised by its variety of outdoorsiness. We spent two full days exploring its options but we could have easily spent a few more.
This wasn’t fruit punch, just one of the best sunsets our captain had seen in his four years of sailing Payette Lake.
Our first day in McCall, we hiked every single trail in Ponderosa State Park, five and a half miles total. Ponderosa is located on a peninsula that juts out into Payette Lake. Like its name suggests, it’s covered in a lovely pine forest interposed by vibrant meadows and sandy beaches.
Ponderosa State Park is a gorgeous mix of forest, meadow and shore.
We finished up that day with a sunset lake cruise aboard the Idaho. Jason and I toughed it out on the ship’s upper deck as the sun and temperatures plunged in order to have a better view of the beauty around us. If only I’d thought to wear every single layer of clothing I’d packed in my suitcase. Brrr! The sunset was glorious though, one of the best I’ve ever seen. It turned the lake waters a shade of Kool-Aid. (Check out the pictures I took and be prepared not to believe their unedited status.)
I didn’t use anything more than a steady hand and a slow shutter speed when creating this picture. I promise it was not Photoshopped.
The next day, we rented a Four Winns sport boat and spent the afternoon touring the lake. The sunshine was so pleasant in the middle of this voyage that we stopped our vessel and read books on its bow for a while. All hail glorious UV! The weather quickly turned from terribly pleasant to just plain terrible though. A storm circled in suddenly and we found ourselves being assailed by choppy waves and a deluge of rain. Yet, we felt compelled to persist since we still had over an hour left on our rental and wanted to get our money’s worth of suffering.
Look Mom, no hands!
McCall is a cute lakeside village in a pretty forest. Its outdoor distractions are plentiful and I predict we will return there again for some more striking scenery and striking weather.
There’s no time like the present to try something new even if it melts you, just ask the Wicked Witch.
Lake Blanche, at an elevation of 8,929 feet, is one of Utah’s most popular hiking destinations, one we’d never been to until we decided last month to trek to its praised shores on a warm Sunday. Although Blanche’s trail climbs 2,680 feet up Big Cottonwood Canyon over 3.2 miles, those stats didn’t intimidate us. But I guess we should have paid less attention to the ascent details and more to the weather. We presumed that the route to Blanche would be sheltered in heat-deflecting trees and ventilated by mountain breezes. We were way off. (I’ve got to be wrong at least once in my life just to have the experience.)
The terrain around Lake Blanche bursts with surprising clusters of crimson.
As it turns out, the majority of Blanche’s path is directly in the sun’s blazing gaze for most of the day. Hence, our temperatures escalated as we scaled until prolific sweat swaddled us like soggy blankets. Seriously, I don’t remember being that sweaty ever before. It was kind of really miserable. I had to make Jason sit down at one point because he was shaky from the severe roasting he was receiving.
Sundial Peak looms above Lake Blanche with all the authority of its 10,320 feet.
We trooped on though and hit Lake Blanche in a little less than two hours. Our misfortunes were quickly forgotten along its charming (and cool I might add) waterline.
My tiny toes don’t appreciate being confined to hiking boots so I pad my feet to give those digits the illusion of space.
An ice age ago, Blanche filled in a basin left by a crushing glacier. It wears a vibrant collar of red rock on one side like a stunning necklace and empties, via a dramatic waterfall, into two smaller pools, Lake Florence and Lake Lillian. We spent an hour and a half exploring all of these idyllic waters. Naturally, it was delightful.
Dromedary Peak is another dominating feature of Blanche’s surroundings.
I’m happy to report that our trip down the mountain was much pleasanter than our reverse journey. The sun had retreated behind the hills by that point so succumbing to heatstroke was no longer mandatory. (Yeah, you better run sun!)
Lake Blanche is remarkably reflective, almost dazzling.
In total, we wandered 7.62 miles over 5.5 hours. Since we only accumulated three of those miles in the most wretched of fashions, this affair couldn’t be considered torturous as a whole. I’m glad we did it even though we nearly drowned in puddles of our own perspiration. However, if you’d asked me my opinion on the matter in the middle of our damp rising, I might have mumbled a different answer, assuming I had the energy to give any response at all.
Alpine flowers bloom in Big Cottonwood Canyon around June.
The moral of this sticky tale? If you find yourself longing for the enticing shores of Lake Blanche in the middle of summer, make sure that longing strikes you early in the morning.
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