Allen and I have talked about staying overnight in an ISU yurt for about five years.
But this year . . . we did!
Speaking of Allen, he has been dealing with a pretty bad back injury and some nerve pain following an (ahem) incident involving wrestling with our fourteen-year-old. He's had six different visits with professionals (one doctor's visit, two chiropractic visits, two physical therapy visits, and one therapeutic massage) and took almost an entire week off work, because it is agony to sit in a chair.
Turns out, snowshoeing seven miles is just what he needed. The only time his back hurt was, miraculously, when he woke up in our yurt, stiff and sore from his sleeping pad. (Then again, I woke up stiff and sore from my sleeping pad, too.) I say miraculous because he 1) towed a sled for those seven miles, uphill, downhill, into gullies, through deep powder, 2) shoveled SO. MUCH. SNOW. around the yurt, mostly looking for the woodpile, and 3) chopped down a dead tree and THEN chopped that tree into logs for the cast-iron stove in the yurt because we never found said woodpile.
His back and shoulder are totally on the mend, and the pain shooting down his left arm is all but gone. Blessings, people.
The first 2.7 miles (not three, ISU information page. You should not round up when giving people directions) was on a road that is popular with snowmobilers, so it was really easy to navigate. But the last .6 miles were off-road and into the backcountry. We NEVER would have found our yurt if we hadn't followed the tracks of someone who went before us. And it had snowed over their tracks, so they weren't always discernible. It felt adventurous, for sure.
If anything, we overpacked. I didn't know that the yurt was supplied with pots and pans and utensils. And we both had enough layers of clothing and socks to stay comfortable for several days (though Allen forgot to pack some comfy shoes for when we arrived and got out of our boots). We had teriyaki chicken for dinner, plus ice cream and hot fudge for "dessyurt." ("Stop flyurting with me!" Bahahahaaaaa! Nothing like a good play on words, people)
Allen also loaded his kindle with movies and brought his bluetooth speaker, so we watched an episode of Michael Pollan's Cooked with surround sound. Not very wildernessy . . . but very relaxing and fun. (PS- Cooked is one of the best things on Netflix right now--it will get you excited about good food, and it's only four episodes. Also, Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat)
Sooooo . . . we did spend a lot of time digging for the woodpile. All four yurts from the OAC (Outdoor Adventure Center) are stocked with wood, a cooking stove and heating stove, and bunks . . . but we got two feet of snow in two days just before our trip, and the mountains always get even more snow than we do. So that woodpile was good and BURIED. We dug in every likely-looking spot and under every slight hump of snow, but all we found was trees and brush under each place. So, when it started to get late in the afternoon, Allen found a dead snag and chopped it down.
We were worried about having enough wood at first, but when we saw how efficiently that cast-iron stove heated the yurt (and we kept that damper turned down), we knew we'd be just fine through the night. In fact, it was so cozy, (read: HOT) we both left our sleeping bags unzipped for the first half of the night.
We each stoked the fire once in the night. I kept waking up to a weird tapping sound and finally found the culprit around 3 AM: a plump little mouse was trying to fit a Valentine chocolate into a too-small knothole in the floor. I put my boot over the hole and threw the chocolate into the fire, along with two more logs, then promptly fell asleep until about 8.
Morning stiffness notwithstanding, it felt good to get up and get breakfast going (and my morning trip to the outhouse woke me RIGHT UP, I can tell you). We had my favorite: breakfast burritos with fresh salsa and avocado.
We went for a morning hike up the ridge across the way. The sun was out and the sky was so blue and clear--it was the nicest day we'd seen in several weeks, and our actual anniversary! There were so many animals tracks criss-crossing our path, and the snow just made everything pristine. It was beautiful, and we had it all to ourselves.
I took some time to write in the "logbook" before we reluctantly packed up and left. It was fun to read other people's entries (tip: cross-country skiing in would have been a nightmare, as one man attested--too many gullies and rocks and brush and steep, steep ascents) and see what our fellow enthusiasts had to say. Lots of late night laughter and card games and lovers of nature, wood smoke, and cast iron goodness.
Hiking out was much harder than in, because of the difficulty of pulling sleds downhill. But we both agree that sleds are better for snowshoeing than backpacks, because you can carry so much more weight and gear. Once we got out of the backcountry and onto the road, it got easier, though we both looked like we were walking unwieldy dogs for most of the time (which you can see in the video above).
We drove to Pocatello and took ourselves out to eat to cap off the anniversary. The whole trip was was so fun and rejuvenating, and something we look forward to doing again!
Post Script: We owe much of our good time to my mom. Our kids expressed their disappointment FOR DAYS that we did not spend more than one night away, so they could continue to be spoiled by Grandma. She let them have all the loose change from her car (one of her traditions), took them to Arctic Circle and let them order everything they wanted, got doughnuts for breakfast, and brought each of us a personalized gift (Me: leather bracelet, Allen: Irish flute, Truman and Brigham: new hoodies, Mollie: stuffed fox, Calvin, stuffed turtle). I appreciate her so much and can't even express how wonderful it is to say goodbye to your kids and never worry about them once (or think about them???). It is truly the feeling of "vacation."
Thanks, Mom.
But this year . . . we did!
Right after Christmas, I reserved the Inman Yurt for the night before our anniversary (which fell on President's Day this year, so it was already a day off work!), and it was very fun to anticipate our 24-hour getaway during the Colde Darke Monthes. My mom came on Saturday night, we all went to church the next morning, and as soon as we got home and out of our Sunday best, we were off!
And it was so cheap: $40 a night, unless you are a student at Idaho State University, then it's only $30 per night. Over and over, I learn that not having a ton of extra money could be one of our greatest blessings--we have to be creative and inventive to help those dollars stretch, and we end up doing things that require more planning and effort--which can (and does) really translate to a deep sense of satisfaction.
The smile on Allen's face says it all:
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| Back off, ladies. He's mine. |
Turns out, snowshoeing seven miles is just what he needed. The only time his back hurt was, miraculously, when he woke up in our yurt, stiff and sore from his sleeping pad. (Then again, I woke up stiff and sore from my sleeping pad, too.) I say miraculous because he 1) towed a sled for those seven miles, uphill, downhill, into gullies, through deep powder, 2) shoveled SO. MUCH. SNOW. around the yurt, mostly looking for the woodpile, and 3) chopped down a dead tree and THEN chopped that tree into logs for the cast-iron stove in the yurt because we never found said woodpile.
His back and shoulder are totally on the mend, and the pain shooting down his left arm is all but gone. Blessings, people.
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| Our pack-covers were perfect for strapping down our supplies |
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| Almost there! It was all uphill on the way in |
The first 2.7 miles (not three, ISU information page. You should not round up when giving people directions) was on a road that is popular with snowmobilers, so it was really easy to navigate. But the last .6 miles were off-road and into the backcountry. We NEVER would have found our yurt if we hadn't followed the tracks of someone who went before us. And it had snowed over their tracks, so they weren't always discernible. It felt adventurous, for sure.
If anything, we overpacked. I didn't know that the yurt was supplied with pots and pans and utensils. And we both had enough layers of clothing and socks to stay comfortable for several days (though Allen forgot to pack some comfy shoes for when we arrived and got out of our boots). We had teriyaki chicken for dinner, plus ice cream and hot fudge for "dessyurt." ("Stop flyurting with me!" Bahahahaaaaa! Nothing like a good play on words, people)
Allen also loaded his kindle with movies and brought his bluetooth speaker, so we watched an episode of Michael Pollan's Cooked with surround sound. Not very wildernessy . . . but very relaxing and fun. (PS- Cooked is one of the best things on Netflix right now--it will get you excited about good food, and it's only four episodes. Also, Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat)
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| The yurt from the back, in some truly deep deep snow. |
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| A much more zen view than the inside of a regular-ol' Coleman tent |
Sooooo . . . we did spend a lot of time digging for the woodpile. All four yurts from the OAC (Outdoor Adventure Center) are stocked with wood, a cooking stove and heating stove, and bunks . . . but we got two feet of snow in two days just before our trip, and the mountains always get even more snow than we do. So that woodpile was good and BURIED. We dug in every likely-looking spot and under every slight hump of snow, but all we found was trees and brush under each place. So, when it started to get late in the afternoon, Allen found a dead snag and chopped it down.
We were worried about having enough wood at first, but when we saw how efficiently that cast-iron stove heated the yurt (and we kept that damper turned down), we knew we'd be just fine through the night. In fact, it was so cozy, (read: HOT) we both left our sleeping bags unzipped for the first half of the night.
We each stoked the fire once in the night. I kept waking up to a weird tapping sound and finally found the culprit around 3 AM: a plump little mouse was trying to fit a Valentine chocolate into a too-small knothole in the floor. I put my boot over the hole and threw the chocolate into the fire, along with two more logs, then promptly fell asleep until about 8.
Morning stiffness notwithstanding, it felt good to get up and get breakfast going (and my morning trip to the outhouse woke me RIGHT UP, I can tell you). We had my favorite: breakfast burritos with fresh salsa and avocado.
We went for a morning hike up the ridge across the way. The sun was out and the sky was so blue and clear--it was the nicest day we'd seen in several weeks, and our actual anniversary! There were so many animals tracks criss-crossing our path, and the snow just made everything pristine. It was beautiful, and we had it all to ourselves.
We drove to Pocatello and took ourselves out to eat to cap off the anniversary. The whole trip was was so fun and rejuvenating, and something we look forward to doing again!
Post Script: We owe much of our good time to my mom. Our kids expressed their disappointment FOR DAYS that we did not spend more than one night away, so they could continue to be spoiled by Grandma. She let them have all the loose change from her car (one of her traditions), took them to Arctic Circle and let them order everything they wanted, got doughnuts for breakfast, and brought each of us a personalized gift (Me: leather bracelet, Allen: Irish flute, Truman and Brigham: new hoodies, Mollie: stuffed fox, Calvin, stuffed turtle). I appreciate her so much and can't even express how wonderful it is to say goodbye to your kids and never worry about them once (or think about them???). It is truly the feeling of "vacation."
Thanks, Mom.
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| The sorting and counting of "Grandma Change" |
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| All the kids, happy with their gifts and love and attention |
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| Calvin and his turtle, which he named "Tim," and which has not left his side since Grandma left. |
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