A few drops of rain and an empty parking lot greeted us at the trailhead where we paused for a few moments of contemplation. I’m not sure if I was more nervous about the responsibility of backpacking with a dog for the first time or if my girlfriend was more nervous about Lolo and I spending the weekend in grizzly country without her there to supervise. Lolo just seemed excited and happy, which were contagious emotions and aside from occasional hunger and tiredness proved to be the definitive feelings of the entire trip.

A small mountain range just outside of Yellowstone National Park, the Henrys Lake Mountains offer rugged scenery against the Continental Divide.

A Henrys Lake Mountains Hike Begins

Our plan was to hike a 19-mile loop in the Henrys Lake Mountains of Idaho over three days, leaving plenty of time to explore the high country and to visit several small lakes which dotted the map on either side of the Continental Divide Trail (CDT). Given that we were hiking in what could basically be considered a suburb of Yellowstone National Park there wasn’t a particular destination we felt compelled to reach to achieve a scenic highlight, we just hoped for decent campsites, favorable weather and good trail conditions. That said, I was intrigued by half a dozen lakes that the map showed nestled in relatively flat terrain at a sub-alpine elevation and below a striking ridgeline with peaks topping out a thousand feet higher.

The six miles to the junction with the CDT passed first through lovely and fragrant coniferous forest with intermittent meadows, a few aspen groves, and dense willow thickets. The only challenging parts of this lower section were a few easy crossings of Targhee Creek and trying not to become so enamored by the idyllic scenery that I risked tripping over my own feet.

The trail was in absolutely excellent condition – no deadfall, washouts, or overgrown sections to slow us down. Limestone cliffs jutting out of impossibly steep yet somehow stable talus slopes, vibrant wildflowers, and views of 10,180 foot Bald Peak became the major scenic elements of the final three miles, which also included a nearly 2,000 foot climb. We reached the junction with the CDT in just over three hours of hiking, which was almost too quick given what a delight the trail was. From the junction with the CDT, it was only a few hundred feet until we got a glimpse of the first lake. It is rare that I have had the experience of being underwhelmed by a body of water, but this lake didn’t exactly compel us to venture closer and make it our home for the evening. It had dried up considerably and although it still had a beautiful color to its water the bathtub ring effect and exposed lakebed around the remaining water detracted quite a bit from any enchanting effect it held.

Rounding out its lack of appeal, the forest around its shores looked rather dense and without any obvious tent sites. Not discouraged in the least, as I’d been warned by guidebooks and online resources about the seasonal nature of several of these lakes, we pressed on another few hundred feet to Clark Lake. Upon arrival, we experienced the unfortunate realization that it was much more adept at evaporation than the previous lake. Leaving the mud puddle of Clark Lake behind, we continued moving feet and paws along the CDT toward another seasonal lake which, while an appealing blue on the map, was presently a lake whose season had definitely passed. At this point, we had exhausted all the lakeside camping opportunities that were closest to the trail. The open and rolling terrain of the Targhee Basin seemed hospitable to cross-country travel and since we had the time and energy, we decided to strike out for one of the off-trail lakes that were a bit higher and not far away.

After reaching the stream that crossed the trail and served as a relative landmark for our pathless journey, we left the trail and headed uphill. The tumbling waters of the outlet stream of the nameless lake provided encouragement and evidence that indeed there was some significant quantity of water left somewhere in the mountains. Only twenty minutes of relatively easy hiking were required before we received our first glimpses of where we would set up camp. Stands of gnarled but stately whitebark pines allowed us to only see a few features of the landscape at a time; the steady outlet stream, rolling alpine hills, an imposing ridgeline with patches of faded pink and dull red adding aesthetic variance to the monochromatic gray of the rocks and cliffs. And, most majestically, a surreal lake that reflected the mountains and listless clouds in its glassy waters. To say that the unnamed lake exceeded expectations would be an understatement.

Lush vegetation surrounded the shoreline and mountains rose in the background. Everything that the previous lakes lacked this lake seemed to have in abundance. Extended observation led me to view this tiny lake as more of a reflecting pool than a lake. Its depth never seemed to exceed a foot and its purpose seemed more suited to showcasing the mountains towering above it than for providing habitat for fish. What it lacked in physical depth, it seemed to make up for in the emotional sense of the word. I saw no trace of any previous human visitors – not a fire ring, cigarette butt, forgotten tent stake, or the corner of an energy bar wrapper. Just pure, pristine beauty. Clear waters fed by springs emerging from the base of a mountain and snowmelt. Crisp, alpine air and views of near and distant peaks. Abundant but not overcrowding vegetation. Nameless on maps and indescribable from its shore. Seldom visited but not unknown. To a backpacker, and hopefully to a dog, it was beyond perfection.

The crest of a hillside on the south shore of the lake proved to be an ideal place to camp. Flat and with views of both lakes and the upper reaches of the Targhee Basin, this campsite didn’t leave much to be desired. Our kitchen and dining room, several hundred feet away from our tent, also received better-than-average ratings as far as scenery goes. As the brilliant spectacle of sunset transitioned into twilight, I finished my post-dinner chamomile tea and organized my food and cooking gear into the bear canister, which I then stashed several hundred feet from where I cooked and perhaps a quarter-mile from where my tent was. I was aware that the Henrys Lake Mountains were grizzly habitat, but it wasn’t until I returned home and was flipping through the book Hiking Idaho when I learned that habituated Yellowstone bears have been transplanted to the Henrys Lake Mountains. Definitely glad I read that after the hike, rather than before. And definitely glad that Lolo can’t read at all. Ignorance is bliss, I suppose.

Stargazing is one of my favorite parts of backpacking, but so is settling in to a good night’s rest after a full day of hiking. Unfortunately, the long summer days in the Northern Rockies put these two activities into conflict and sleep usually wins out. So shortly after 10 p.m., with only a few stars twinkling in the sky, I bid good night to the lake, mountains, and Lolo, and zipped up my sleeping bag. I can credit diligent hydration for the interruption to my slumber that caused me to exit the tent a few hours after I’d closed my eyes. My exit occurred prior to the moonrise and after the few clouds had cleared, which allowed me to gaze up at one of the most incredible starscapes I’ve seen.

I awoke the next morning filled with the inimitable feelings of freedom and possibility that occur when one awakens on a Saturday morning beside a mountain lake under a cloudless blue sky. Lolo and I enjoyed a quick breakfast before packing up and, just for the sake of completeness, trekked over to the final nameless lake in the basin. Any anxiety over whether we had camped at the most desirable lake was quickly dispelled when we reached the nearly dried up lake at the head of the basin. Feeling accomplished at having seen all the lakes of the Targhee Basin and vindicated at our choice of campsite, we descended to the CDT and continued toward Targee Pass, which at approximately 10,000 feet would be the high point of our hike. The hike to Targhee Pass was an exceedingly pleasant stroll through whitebark pine forest and the final switchbacks passed through a boulder field with rocks striped a deep maroon over the usual dull grey.

While we had considered summiting Targhee Peak, we opted instead to take it easy and enjoy the view from the pass. After appreciating our perspective of our immediate surroundings, we shifted our gazes beyond the Henrys Lake Mountains, towards Yellowstone National Park and distant mountain ranges in Idaho, Wyoming, and Montana. During our break at Targhee Pass, I decided that rather than complete the loop, we would instead just hike out the way we had hiked in. I’d seen several appealing places to camp on the way in and, feeling a bit less explorer and more guarded, I didn’t want to risk running into any issues on the Dry Fork Trail which was noted in various resources as seeing less maintenance and being more overgrown than the Targhee Creek Trail. So, the novelty portion of our adventure ended at the highest point of our outing and we re-traced our steps down from the pass and toward Targhee Creek.

A Second Night in the Henrys Lake Mountains

Only an hour or two after leaving the dry, rugged, rocky, austere beauty of the high country behind we found a quaint campsite in a meadow lined with spruce along Targhee Creek. A small pool in the creek contained a few trout, which served as our entertainment for most of the evening. When not looking at the freshwater aquarium, I read from a book of Herman Melville short stories. Between those two activities, stretching, and exploring the meadow with Lolo, the afternoon drifted into evening and evening into night. After our meal and placing the bear canister well away from camp, we settled in for the final night of rest on our first backpacking trip.

I awoke the next morning and realized that I was happier than I’d ever been on any of my solo backpacking trips. Having a companion to wake up to in the morning, hike with all day, and wind down the evening with had an impact on me that I hadn’t really expected. I’d always viewed my solo trips in the woods as my time. With Lolo along, it had become our time. Something different and certainly something much better.

Information

The Henrys Lake Mountains are located along the border of Idaho and Montana, just outside of Yellowstone National Park in the Gallatin and Targhee National Forests. USGS topos are ideal for exploring the area. For trip planning and getting to and from trailheads, an atlas such as the Idaho Benchmark Atlas and / or a Montana Atlas and Gazetteer can be useful. The Hiking Idaho and Hiking Montana guidebooks offer further information on hikes in the area.

Editor's Note: This article originally appeared in Issue 30 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.