The Re-Tour Day 8: Boulder Basin, My Favorite Trail

August 31, 2018.

Unbeknownst to us, the first flash of lightning traced it’s way across the sky. But there was no mistaking the thunder that followed. It was 2:30am, and the next flash was followed by a boom 11 seconds later. And then the rain started; sporadic at first, it quickly turned torrential. Then, more lightning, eventually the thunder a mere 4 seconds behind.

And then, as quickly as it started, it was over — the storm cell had passed, the thunder pounding away in the distance. As I fell back asleep I wondered — would there be more?

If there was, I never heard it, and as the morning light lit up the valley I slept soundly. Until I heard a thump, thump, thump outside the tent. As I poked my head up to the window, a huge cow stopped in it’s tracks, having caught my movement in it’s peripheral vision.

Obviously curious, the cow hung out for a while around camp, eating the wet grass and chewing it’s cud. A few other’s followed, wondering what strange animals our trucks were. I too was curious — how tame were these cows, and I climbed down out of the tent to investigate and enjoy the morning.

The storms from the night before had obviously passed, and the sun was out — a beautiful morning to be sure, the sun illuminating the rocky hills on the other side of Moraine Creek.

As the rest of camp rose, we set about what were now our morning routines — Dan @drr and I eating a quick breakfast, Mike @Digiratus enjoying his coffee, Zane @Speedytech getting his tent stowed at least 30 minutes before the rest of us, and Monte @Blackdawg sleeping in a bit before joining me to take photos in the morning light. It was a great, relaxed morning and that meant that it was close to 11:00am before we were packed up and ready to go — through the creek and out the other side of the valley.

We all took our turn, having a great time through the mud — so photogenic in it’s splashiness! Only Dan didn’t bottom out his rear bumper here, the drop into the mud pit a long one for the rest of us.

Mike kicked out quite the flurry as he dropped down into the hole, and was more restrained as he cleaned off in the creek.

Muddied and cleaned, we continued across the valley — one more water crossing before climbing out the other side. As Mike dropped down into the creek, his position reminding me of the one we found Monte and Frankenstein in last year — first gen Tacoma butt high in the air. Of course this time, there was no corresponding “Oh shit!” over the CB, as Mike was on-trail.

And it was with that that we climbed out of the valley said our goodbye’s to one of the most beautiful camp sites we’d visit on the trip — a real gem in the Bighorns. As we crested the ridge, we stopped for one last time — the sun on the mountains, the clouds in the sky — a splendid day to be on the trail. Even Mike was in a waving mood.

The truth was, this was a day we’d all been looking forward to — but perhaps no one more than me. This was the day that we’d return to what was the trail that pushed me the hardest the year before; the trail on which, I confided to Mike — “This is right on the edge for me.” It was also the trail where Frank had called it quits — nearly twice — and where we’d banded together to get out in one piece. It was Boulder Basin.

But first, we had to get there, and that meant more dirt and an overlook. And probably lunch. And definitely a stop at Shell Reservoir, which was on the way. Sweet. We carried on, making our way down, and then up a steep climb towards our first overlook.

As is often the case with our crowd, it was impossible to make it to the overlook without stopping. In my head — and probably for all of us, since we’re all a little crazy in the same way — it goes something like this…

Awesome, we’re headed to an amazing overlook where we’re going to have great views and pictures to die for. In fact, I can see — up there in the distance — what looks like the place, and oh man it is going to be amazing! But holy smokes, it looks so great right here — I’ll just stop here too. And maybe here. And…-My Brain

So of course, before we ever made it to the overlook, we were out of the trucks, pointing off into the distance, and enjoying ourselves thoroughly.

Well, most of us anyway — Zane was out of his truck and opening the hood, his check engine light (CEL) having come on. As I recall, he was pretty certain that it was due to his catalytic converter finally having died but of course he wanted to make sure that everything looked ok there in the engine bay — it is Zane after-all, the guy who built this truck essentially from scratch.

Satisfied that nothing major was wrong, we carried on towards the overlook, literally less than a quarter mile away at that point, and we circled the trucks on arrival.

This made for what I thought was a cool photo-op: truck and mini truck. Gotta love that green though.

Oh, and I shot this to remind myself why big-ole-35" tires are no bueno. It’s clear why Dan’s moving from a shell to a GFC… with an RTT, his stuff would get too dirty!

We looked around for a while and took in the sights — you know, the same ones we’d seen just a few short minutes before. Way to go guys, wreck the overlook for yourselves, ehh?

It was at this point that Zane realized he was a bit low on oil, so he added some and solved his CEL! Not to be left out, Mike also piped up and mentioned that he felt like he heard a strange noise from his engine bay — so we popped his hood and took a look around. Sounded like it was coming from the alternator belt… or the alternator itself. Mike was still getting good readings from it though, so we carried on, for now.

Overlook accomplished — even if it wasn’t as sunny as we’d have preferred — we were all anticipating the main attraction, and so retraced our steps back down the mountain towards Shell Reservoir and Boulder Basin.

As we pulled up to Shell Reservoir (essentially, the entrance to Boulder Basin), Monte came over the CB to say he’d never seen the water level so low. Now, my recollection from last year was that it was also very low — so low in fact that we couldn’t see any water in it at all — but that could have been due to the nearly white-out snow conditions at the time! At any rate, the levels were quite low this year, and we couldn’t resist driving out to take a look; we were far from the first to do so.

As good a place as any, and now 1:00pm, we decided that we’d eat lunch before continuing on and attacking the main event. Better to do that on a full stomach for sure, especially since many of the guys didn’t really eat a meaningful breakfast. So we pulled up out of the reservoir and found a nice spot to circle the trucks, make sandwiches, and talk APRS for a few moments — our setups all “working” so far, but not well together — Mike could only see me, I could only see Monte, and Monte could only see Mike. Super strange.

Our cursory look at configurations couldn’t uncover anything out of the ordinary, so we wrapped up lunch with a few cookies and headed up past Adelaide Lake, then over the last bluff to that would take us to Boulder Basin. For me, excitement was building.

As we approached the entrance to the trail — where, if we’re honest, it looks like there is no trail — I picked up the CB and told the group about my experience the year before and how I couldn’t wait to try again this year, having a more capable truck and much more experience under my belt.

And then we were off, the trail almost immediately living up to it’s name — large boulders everywhere, driving lines and skid plates important elements of the attack.

To see how we fared, check out the rest of the story — Boulder Basin, My Favorite Trail — at dventuretaco.com.

Originally published at adventuretaco.com.