Leigh Lake, Bearpaw Lake, Trapper Lake

The Plan

Once we entered the Yellowstone South Entrance we pulled over and noticed only a few campsites were open during this season, my friend assured me it did not matter because we would be backcountry camping. We needed to find a Ranger Station to get our permits and due to my mistake, I directed us back into the Tetons to get our permits at a Ranger station in Colter Bay Village.

 A very helpful woman ranger set us up with a campsite at Leigh Lake for $25 a night. It was my first time going through this process and I had never researched the Grand Tetons before. She made us watch a 7-minute backcountry safety video. All said and done we discussed bear safety, bear boxes, campfires and location. The Ranger did say our night would be the coldest recorded for that year to date with a chance of precipitation. She also made it a point to mention bears hang out near Bear Paw Lake. One last use of the restrooms and we drove to the Leigh Lake Trailhead.

The Hike

The hike was an easy 9.2 miles out and back with nearly no elevation change between 6,800 to 6,900 ft. It was very flat, muddy and cold enough for the snow to stick around. The trail followed the edges of one lake to another with the mountains across the way.  

My preparation consisted of putting on pajama pants under my jeans, a t-shirt, thermal shirt, sweatshirt, flannel shirt, winter coat. Stuffing all our other shit in the packs was a puzzle trying to make it tolerable for miles of hiking. I had the tarp, my sleeping bag, a bed pad and my camera bag. The camera bag was a pain in the ass at first as it would continue to slide off my shoulder. I fixed that problem the next day and never dealt with it again. My friend packed up the food, stove, his sleeping bag, tent and a bed pad on his back then we took off.

Starting from the parking lot we headed North from the Leigh Lake Trailhead, walking along String Lake until it connected with Leigh Lake. We passed a few hikers headed back toward the parking lot after day hiking the trail, as well as a group of four women who had to be at least in their 60’s. They stomped right past us with their hiking poles putting us to shame. My cheap hiking boots were causing myself problems, but I continued to push through it. It turns out I laced up to tight and was strangling my Achilles tendon. We were the only ones out there to go camping, everyone else must have thought we were crazy with the snow and temperatures dropping.

The campsite was a blanket of snow not 20 yards from a rocky beach along Leigh Lake. Directly across the lake were three peaks, Mount Moran 12,605 ft right, Mount Woodring 11,591 ft center, and Rockchuck Peak 11,145 ft left.  We located our bear box which felt like 100 yards away from the fire pit and tent pad. Once we established the campsite layout, we wandered the beach immediately. The precipitation was coming down like a snow globe. I want to say we reached the campsite around 4PM, dropped our gear and wandered further up the trail to Bearpaw Lake and Trapper Lake. My stomach was upset but I thought nothing of it.  

The side trip to Bearpaw and Trapper lakes were exciting. The snow kept coming down in spurts, and I relieved my bowels of building pressure in the thick wilderness for the first time. It was the excitement built up from the adventure. This was my real first outdoor experience after all. I scathed my way about a hundred yards off the trail. I decided to go atop the closest hill around. The situation would be relatable to watching your dog take a shit. It’s not as easy to decide on the spot as you think, and yet sometimes you don’t get much choice.

A few notes here, more than a mile away from our gear all I had was my camera. I made do by ripping off some fabric from my shirt. I buried it and that was that. Lesson learned; some materials you want to keep close. We then returned to camp.

The beach we were next to provided the driest wood we could gather and with help from the white gas that fire saved my toes from being cut off, seriously. My boots were not as waterproof as I was to believe, I was walking through mud, ice, snow and puddles. That day and night went from a high of 40 to a low of 29, every minute of that fire was crucial. Literally taking off boots and socks, laying them near the fire to dry out for about an hour, hell I even tossed my gloves real close to the fire just for good measure. Another mistake by me, I wanted my fingers and toes to be so dry and warm some of my shit caught on fire, i.e. I burnt a hole in my sock and through one of my gloves.

After boiling some lake water and intermittent eating of sardines, crackers and fried beef it got dark quick. We tossed some lake water on the fire and crawled into the tent fully clothed. We took our boots off outside the tent and left them on the tarp, stupid, and I maneuvered myself into my sleeping bag well insulated with my winter coat on. It had to be 9pm and pitch black out. Some of the worst sleeping I have ever endured at the time, but what a thrill. There was sleet and snow over the night while the temp continued to sink.

The next day getting moving was difficult because our boots were wet, dusted in snow and frozen. My feet weren’t much better, but it was 10AM and we had to get moving to Yellowstone. I forced my feet into my boots and started wrapping and strapping shit to my backpack. Once we started hiking the blood started to flow. We passed a few more early hikers that morning on our way out. I remember my Achilles tendon being very sore resulting in me almost hiking with a limp. My feet were numb after being shoved into the frozen boots. It was my will power for the car that kept me going that morning.