Glued To The Sled
This ridge put us up on the Continental Divide, riding northwest toward Bridger Peak, where once again the views would have been breathtaking, had the clouds lifted enough to afford any kind of view. By the time we reached the summit of Bridger Peak (elevation 11,007 feet), you had to be glued to the sled in front of you to keep from falling off the ridge. Smith was definitely impressing us with his knowledge of this area now.
After conquering Bridger Peak we bailed off the west face, out of elevation and into the trees to get some depth perception back. We boondocked our way down a canyon into a play area in upper Lost Creek that our guide affectionately referred to as the Bathtub. This is another open area with challenging hills to climb, especially when you're cutting two plus feet of billowing fresh fluff. Visibility was still marginal so there wasn't a whole bunch of playing here. We were more focused on getting over the edge of the Bathtub so we could continue on our journey.
Once we got everyone out of the Bathtub, we took our choke-n-slide break that was a bit brutal as we were sitting on top of a ridge in the open. After a quick refueling of the riders, we continued down the Lost Creek drainage, losing elevation and gaining visibility. The next play area that we fell into was west of Quartzite Peak and the light was getting good enough that we proceeded to nuke this place out. The snow was so deep by now you could manage to get stuck going down hill. There were a bunch of fox holes by the time we wore ourselves and this park out. It was so cool, though, riding with a big snow wave in front and to the sides as the overload was floating up into your face.
As we worked our way down into lower Lost Creek, the clouds were thinning enough that Duce was able to finally work some action shots of Ben, Becky and John Summers. Then we boondocked around some willows and trees and jumped across Lost Creek a couple of times to end up back on the Hwy. 70 trail.
Gas gauges were getting close to the E, so we headed back up the trail with one more play session in an old gravel pit along the way-an obvious request by Duce as the sun was now shining down on us.
Day two was 50 miles of riding that powder junkies dream about. Boondocking in champagne powder (the best we rode all year) and never seeing another rider outside of your posse (though Mother Nature may have had something to do with the low to no traffic) is as good as it gets.
We rode only a fraction of the area, and saw even less, but what we experienced was that the Sierra Madres is an area that is more appealing to a seasoned or boondock rider as the terrain is challenging and the 110 miles of trails (50 groomed, 60 ungroomed) support the riding mentality of Cowboy Up.