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Tag: seven devils

Hell Hike and Raft: Camp Life
Now that you’ve read about the hiking (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3) and rafting of the Hell Hike and Raft, I thought it would be fun to share what camp life was like. As much fun as the hiking and rafting were, camp life was equally entertaining and a big portion of what made this adventure so wonderful.
So here’s some insight into what it’s like to head into the backcountry with America’s Rafting Company.
Camping…
Camp locations varied widely from cozy spots where our tents and sleeping bags were nestled closely together to wide open places where the crew spread out. From our first night next to Shelf Lake to the babbling creek at Hibbs Cow Camp to the beaches and cliffs along the Snake, all of our sites had us perched near the soothing sounds of water. In spite of that common thread, each night’s camp was vastly different, giving us a new taste of Idaho with each stop.
Camp at Shelf Lake.
Our time in the Seven Devils was on the chilly side so I opted for tent camping those nights. That didn’t entirely keep this southern girl from freezing but it helped. The glorious Idaho weather did get the best of me, however, and made cowboy camping very appealing while at lower elevations along the river.
Unlike the deep south that I call home, there weren’t really any critters to contend with (aside from a close encounter with a skunk at dinner one evening that didn’t end well for Scout the River Dog…) so falling asleep under the stars was nothing short of magical. And with the aid of rafts, we had the 3-inch thick sleeping pads provided by ARC to rest our weary bodies on. That’s the backcountry version of a down-pillow mattress and they were glorious in comparison to my puny backpacking pad.
In terms of a guided trip, other than tending to our own sleeping arrangements, we didn’t have many other responsibilities. We did help help where we could, particularly with hauling gear on and off the rafts, but it felt odd, especially for the parents in the group, to be catered to instead of having to so the care-taking. By the end of the trip we’d gotten all to used to that treatment. I certainly didn’t want it to end.
Now you may be wondering about the bathroom situation. For the hiking portion, we employed standard backpacking procedures which means every man and woman for his or herself in digging cat-holes. But for the rafting part of the trip, having a gigantic boat to carry gear means we had a portable setup to use that was tucked on the outskirts of camp with a paddle as a bathroom door to let others know if it was in use or not. Let’s just say no matter where you are on the Snake, it’s the most scenic rest stop you’ll ever have.
My crewmates quickly figured out that coffee delivered to my “doorstep” prevented my morning grumpies. Well, mostly.
A long-lost watch at camp met it’s demise for the unexpected interruption.
The fetchinest dog ever and fun addition to camp… Tubbs.
The most epic pit stop ever.
The extra-thick sleeping pads were luxurious compared to our backpacking mats.
Food
The Hell Hike and Raft crew came for the adventure of the expedition… the hiking, rafting, exploring the back-country of Idaho, and bonding with fellow outdoor-blogger-types. What we didn’t really count on was eating like royalty. America’s Rafting Company provided fabulous grub, so much so that we started to wonder what the next meal would be, even while still in the midst of one.
Even for the backpacking days, food brought in by horses meant not having to resort to less-than-gourmet backcountry staples. Fajitas, omelets, and Fishpeople Seafood were among the choice fare in the Seven Devils. For the rafting section, we even had tables, chairs, and beer to go with our mouth-watering appetizers and hearty ARC meals… all while dining on the banks of the Snake.
And being that cooking was the domain of our hosts, the fact that all of the fabulous food was served up without have to prepare it may have been one of the most epic aspects of this adventure for me. I wasn’t kidding when I called this a dirtbag cruise.
Seriously… bacon, french toast, eggs, fresh fruit. While on a beach of the Snake River.
Seriously y’all, the food…
Five-star dining, America’s Rafting Company style.
The crew enjoying their Fishpeople Seafood.
Marshall and Rick prepping our first night’s dinner. We had no idea this was the tip of the food iceberg.
The flagship beverage of the rafting portion of the trip.
It comes down to people…
The truth is that for all of the amazing experiences hiking, rafting, and let’s be honest… eating, having the opportunity to hang out with great people is really where the sweet spot lies.
The heart and soul of America’s Rafting Company. I want Parker and Becky to adopt me. They’re awesome.
And throw a bunch of outdoors-people from different walks of life into the Idaho backcountry with ages spanning three decades and you’re bound to get the makings of a comedy. Indeed no one held back being their true selves. Our crew now has so many inside jokes, we’ll carry the bonds of this trip with us forever. Plus, after spending 6 days in the backcountry and having to deal with the realities of backcountry hygiene, we’re all just one big family now.
Aside from my wonderfully quirky, fabulous crew mates, we had the benefit of charismatic, energetic guides. We Hell Hike and Rafters are a colorful bunch but the America’s Rafting Company team gave us a run for our money. Full of energy and local knowledge, they kept us entertained and helped us understand their stomping ground. For the engaged travelers that we adventurer-types tend to be, that’s what connects us to the journey and place. Parker and Becky are nothing short of delightful and I’d join them for another adventure again in a heartbeat.
Campfire bonding.
Marshall regaling us with stories about the Seven Devils.
In between laughter and crew antics, there was time to be amazed at the beauty of Hell’s Canyon.
Coming up…
That’s about it for the journey of the Hell Hike and Raft. More reviews of gear to come.
In the meantime, enjoy this little compilation slideshow of camp life and don’t forget you can find all of my Hell Hike and Raft images on Flickr.

And now for your moment of green…
Water is life but it is also delight. The crystal clear, cold streams of Idaho were a constant companion on the Hell Hike and Raft.
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March 12, 2015
Hell Hike and Raft: The Seven Devils – Part 3
Remember how I said that on Day 2 I began loving this journey? Well on Day 3, we finally found out what the “hell” part of the Hell Hike and Raft was all about.
Frozen…
We awoke to freezing temperatures. Being from the Deep South, it’s not something I’m accustomed to dealing with often and to such extremes. With frigid hands, I muddled my way through breakfast and breaking camp.
The Hell Hike and Raft crew bidding farewell to Tubbs the Adventure Dog.
This morning’s pack up was different from the previous night’s. We’d be saying goodbye to John and the horses which meant we needed to pack our tents on our backs for this leg of the journey. We got to abandon our sleeping pads though since on the rafting portion we’d have thick, (relatively) luxurious rafting pads to sleep on.
This significant change in gear meant reconfiguring my packing strategy. And even though our Teton Sports packs were very groovy indeed, I realized later in the day I’d packed things far too lopsided and it caught up with me as I found myself listing to port the whole day. Which is not what you want on a massive descent. But by the time the realization hit me, I was beyond caring…
But let me back up a little.
Annie was smitten with the pack horses.
All downhill from here…
It was to be our last day of hiking before meeting the rafts on the Snake. The exit from Hibbs Cow Camp to our intended camp on the river meant a brutal day of 6,000 feet elevation loss over about 6 miles. And on trails that hadn’t been hiked in something like 20 years.
Annie enjoying the waterfall view… until we realized we had to make the descent, a river crossing, and another short uphill climb, only to start going down again.
We scrambled over and under logs, along loose gravel and rocks, and steep slopes that were not for the faint-of-heart. Down, down, and more down. Constantly, for hours on end, bracing our bodies and heavy packs against gravity and loose footing.
And then there were the water crossings. I lost count. I took great pains early on to keep my boots dry. By the last one I gave up and just plowed through, letting the cold water flood my boots, a temporary relief for aching feet like an ice pack. Exhaustion ruled so walking on squishy boots from that point on seemed the least of my troubles.
It was an unforgiving route. It was hell. None of us felt like taking pictures. We plodded along with legs like jelly. Yet it was beautiful. And the company top-notch. A very odd dichotomy to find ourselves in. Solidarity kept us moving forward.
The group seemed more spread out than over the past two days with the fitter, younger, and less injured folks setting a better pace than the rest of us. Marshall had to abandon us part-way, picking up the pace so he would make it to the boat take out in time to catch his ride. That left us under the guidance of Rick. And given that these trails were not well-used, there was some discussion and uncertainty as to which trails were the ones we were to follow. Our Hell Hike and Raft crew was a sort of hiking guinea pig for this route. Fortunately map skills prevailed and we managed to keep ourselves on track.
By the last mile, the terrain flattened out and our journey became a matter of getting to camp on legs like noodles and feet tender as raw hamburger. The foliage became more lush as we neared the water as you can imagine. The change of scenery helped me refocus on why I came here and that I wanted to take in every glorious moment, not be bogged down in pain. And as we got closer, there were more and more bear signs of the scat variety and bedding areas. It was intimidating. Let me tell you, that will get your attention off of sore feet and legs…
Pushing physical limits…
As problematic and sore as my knees can get, I’ve never worried about them giving out entirely before. On this descent, I started to worry. Seriously. Each step became a dance with tenderness and my feet joined the choir of protest early on. My mangled toe and sesamoid bone were done. Try as I might to adjust my boot laces, I couldn’t relieve the pressure on them. I had to simply plow on one tender step at a time.
Was the hiking glass half full or empty? Only one mile left… or still one mile left on painfully tired feet and legs.
It was on this day I wished I’d brought both trekking poles. I set out with only one knowing I wouldn’t be able to hold one in my right hand for very long. On this day, I would have taken the pain in my hand for the relief and stability that extra pole would have provided because in addition to painful feet, each step had to be carefully placed to keep from slipping. And indeed I landed on my rear several times on the descent.
The bulk of our steps, for six miles, was bracing against the loose, steep slopes with ungainly forty pound packs strapped to our bodies. In addition to the complications of my feet, the brutal nature of this route meant my thighs and glutes were screaming, too. Today’s journey was about the challenge; pushing my personal limits and finding ways to get past the mental barriers that wanted to keep me focused on the discomfort and pain. At one point I confessed to Adam one of my techniques… singing saucy Monty Python songs quietly to myself to stay in my happy place. That seemed to amuse him, although it didn’t surprise him. 😉
Lioness Tara resting on the brutal downhill of the last day.
The Snake…
I’ve wanted to see the Snake River for as long as I can remember. I never imagined I would be exhausted and in great pain during my very first glimpse of it, though. I was in hiker death march mode, focused on the promise of being able to collapse once I got camp set up.
Can’t beat this camp. Good food. Good friends. Amazing views.
By the time we arrived, I almost couldn’t wrap my head around making camp. The mental challenge of getting through the day had taken it’s toll. Fortunately auto-pilot took over to some extent and I muddled my way through it. I set to the task right away, knowing that if I took a break I wouldn’t be able to muster enough energy to do it later.
We pitched our tents on the cliff overlooking the Snake so I had yet to see the swanky America’s Rafting Company kitchen set-up down by the river. Once I finished settling into my tent, I grabbed my camera and GorillaPod and mozied my way down to the river on protesting feet.
I’d only briefly gotten to say hello to Wendy, my fellow southern girl, who was only able to join us for the rafting portion of the trip. So it caught a little off-guard when I set my coat and tripod on the table next to her and she gave me a quizzical look and asked “Is that your vibrator?” I laughed, gave her a high five and said “Darlin’, we are going to get along just fine.” Of course, I did set her straight that I don’t generally pack that kind of equipment out during a backcountry trip.
And with laughter and relief, we all set to enjoying our first night on the Snake with a healthy stock of PBR, great cooking by the America’s Rafting Company crew, and frolicking in the rejuvenating water.
The Hell Hike and Raft crew spent a good bit of time being charmed by the Snake.
Mileage…
Our actual distance was far less than was originally anticipated for the trip. And that’s a good thing given the terrain and time it took us to even do what we did. It’s one thing to do a long, difficult hike for one day. Three days in a row is another story. Missouri Howell was our enthusiastic cartographer for this expedition and came up with these numbers and map for us (with my commentary for added color):
- Day 1 – red: 4.39 miles, 1,657′ gain: In spite of what appears to be a low-mileage day, it was loaded with a big dose of up and down over challenging terrain but totally doable when you’re on Day 1 and amped up for the adventure.
- Day 2 – blue: 6.60 miles, 2,280′ gain: Nice day. Big views. Challenging but achievable terrain, distance, and elevation changes. Yeehaw, right?
- Day 3 – black: 5.67 miles, 6,280′ loss: Idaho, it’s a good thing you’re beautiful because that hike was indeed hell.
The Hell Hike and Raft route through the Seven Devils. If you know anything about topo maps, have a gander at Day 3. Boy howdy, that’s crossing a LOT of contour lines. Big love to Missouri Howell for the map.
The big picture in undertaking a hike like this is that the pain does fade. And the triumph and accomplishment remains. So yes, in spite of the pain, I would do it again in a heartbeat.
For your viewing pleasure…
To recap the hiking portion of the trip, here’s a short slideshow of our time in the Seven Devils…

For the Hell Hike and Raft full monty according to Val, head over to my Flickr album of the adventure.
And now for your moment of green…
The view of the Snake River from our tents. Yep, that was worth the misery…

[gallery_bank album_id=43]
December 17, 2014
Hell Hike and Raft: The Seven Devils – Part 2
After a demanding but exhilarating first day of the Hell Hike and Raft, you’d think I would have slept soundly. Not so much. My first night nestled in the forest of the Seven Devils was fitful. But that’s normal for me. It’s part of what makes me not a morning person. But if there’s anything that can take the sting out of waking up after a restless night, it’s the view of fog dancing over a lake while surrounded by excellent people.
Shelf Lake morning…
While this was certainly an epic adventure, unlike a lackadaisical vacation, I did have an obligation to document as much as possible of the Hell Hike and Raft to share upon our return to civilization. So I may have dropped a few grumpy F-bombs when I awoke in the morning to breathtaking gorgeousness. I know… poor me.
The stunning beauty of Shelf Lake.
The reason for the attitude is that I like to wake up slowly and nurse my coffee before I jump headlong into the day. The stunning fog display meant I had to get my game on before I was fully prepared to in order to catch it before it dissipated. And that meant trudging back up to my tent for camera gear and getting my brain awake enough to figure out how to capture the beauty. I’m not sure I was successful but I did give it a good try under the bleary-eyed circumstances.
The rest of the morning consisted of breakfast and packing up. Breakfast was fantastic and I quickly realized our first night’s dinner was not a fluke… that we’d be eating like this the whole time. We were going to have to hike much more vigorously to stay in front of the calories we were putting away at each meal. Nay, each feast.
Stuffed full as a tick, I set to repacking my absurdly heavy pack, very grateful to be able to give my tent to John to pack on the horses while simultaneously kicking myself for not being more diligent about my pack weight. While I struggled to cram everything back in and not send my injured hand into fits of renewed complaints, Adam paused nearby and said “It’s snowing!” with a gleam in his eye. I gave him a pissy, under-caffeinated eyeroll and said “Dude, this was not in the brochure.” Florida-native girl, i.e. yours truly, was not terribly pleased by the idea of snow.
A feast for breakfast.
Journey to Dry Diggins…
Fortunately Mother Nature was not serious about that snow and it stopped as quietly and quickly as it started. So we left Shelf Lake, destined for Hibbs Cow Camp for the night. The trail took us past the stunning blue Basin Lake where we discovered some pretty groovy trail art. And somewhere along the way Jeff and I made Tara choke with our commentary on one of our product sponsors, Fresh Balls/Fresh Breasts. I’m not sure it was appropriate for Tara’s young ears and that discussion is entirely NSFW so I’ll gloss over that part. Feel free to ask me about that over a beer sometime. 😉
The Basin Lake trail art we discovered.
Later along Upper Bernard Lake, I came to really love this journey. I was enjoying it, yes. But I came to love it as we walked along the lake here and the beauty of the mountains, lakes, and wildflowers overwhelmed me.
Yes, there were Valgasms involved. And Adam’s words amidst his chuckles… “Take your time, Val,” as I gasped, grabbed my camera, and approached my blooming subjects like they were supermodels in a photo shoot. And they are to me, of course. But I didn’t want to hold up the group so I kept it short. A quickie you might say. But it was enough for me to regain my long-missing mojo.
We still had a side trip to Dry Diggins Lookout to tackle before our arrival at camp so we had some ground to cover. And so we pressed on. At the trail split, we abandon our packs under a tree to lighten our load for the climb to the lookout. We all felt light as air for awhile until the elevation gain and switchbacks took their toll. I’d left behind my lone trekking pole and realized that was a mistake.
But the view was extraordinary. I’d always wanted to see the Snake River in person ever since my first glimpse of Ansel Adams iconic image. No matter that his view of it was in Wyoming, it was still the Snake I gazed over from Dry Diggins. And much to my delight, the lookout itself was history frozen in time. Vintage appliances, furniture, and even a first aid kit told a story from a different era.
On a natural high from the day’s experiences, we set off back down to our packs with our sights on Hibbs Cow Camp. With one more mini-summit that gave us an amazing view of the Seven Devils, we descended yet again until we were finally at Hibbs.
Renewal after a burn made for breathtaking contrasts.
A kilt-clad Adam along the trail at Upper Bernard Lake.
The view of the Snake River from Dry Diggins lookout.
The Seven Devils from Dry Diggins Lookout
A vintage first aid kit in the Dry Diggings Lookout.
One last view of the Seven Devils before heading back down.
Hibbs Cow Camp…
Our first night at Shelf Lake had us camping in the shadow of rocky peaks on the lakeshore. Hibbs Cow Camp had a very different feel. Alongside a babbling creek, we set up our tents. Because there was no opening for a lake, the trees felt closer and more enveloping.
After our long day under the packs, we were more than ready for our Fishpeople Seafood night. Some of the non-seafood-eaters in the bunch weren’t thrilled because it didn’t suit their palates. I had no trouble offering to eat their portions since I’m a fan of the product. And in fact, I polished off enough Fishpeople to not leave room for dessert. Seems a fair trade in my book.
We spent the evening entertained by Tubbs-the-amazing-fetcher-dog and stories by Marshall in between rounds of dodging campfire smoke and general conversation. And like many cold nights after a long hike, it was an early bedtime for most of us.
The Hell Hike and Raft crew ready for their Fishpeople Seafood fix.
A whole lot of Fishpeople goodness getting ready to be devoured.
Story time with Marshall.
More to come, stay tuned… Until then, here’s a short video of the dancing fog and the epic fetching dog.

And now for your moment of green…
My Upper Bernard Lake beauties.

November 19, 2014
Hell Hike and Raft: The Seven Devils – Part 1
Last time around, I talked about the beginning of the Hell Hike and Raft, what it took to prepare, and some of the logistics involved. Now we get to the good stuff, the actual adventure.
The funny part about this trip for me was that prior to June of this year, I’d never set foot in the state of Idaho. In my 42 years, I’d never managed to get there and here I was returning for the second time in three months, having been there in June on the Pacific Northwest Tour. Not that I’ve gotten around to writing that up yet, mind you, but stay tuned. 😛
A perky Hell Hike and Raft crew ready for adventure.
Intro…
Just so you know what we’re dealing with, the hiking portion of the Hell Hike and Raft took place in the Seven Devils, a series of Rocky Mountain peaks within the Hells Canyon Wilderness on the western edge of Idaho. This is a rugged range spanning elevations from 1,000 feet at the Snake River to 9,393 at the He Devil summit and is nestled between the Snake, Salmon, and Little Salmon Rivers.
Hells Canyon Wilderness in Western Central Idaho
Go time…
I set out to Idaho from Georgia via a couple of flights, not my typical or favorite mode of transportation, and by the time I landed in Boise it was late afternoon. With a big drive north up to New Meadows remaining ahead of us, we blasted out of the Boise airport almost as soon as I got off the plane. Most of the rest of the crew had arrived earlier in the day but I was a straggler. With Becky of America’s Rafting Company playing chauffeur, we arrived at our motel just before dark. Even though the entire crew was travel-weary, we still had to sift through sponsor products and frantically repack before our early morning departure.
Tara shows off our home in New Meadows…
Sadly, that’s where things got a bit wonky for me on my pack weight. I already had major concerns about it as well as great discomfort about my unfamiliarity with the gear but the time constraints left me with not a lot of options other than throwing stuff in my pack, weight be damned.
Fortunately my crew mates had fair warning that I’m not a morning person. Our early morning wake up in New Meadows did not bode well and, indeed, only Russ had the moxie to dare knock on the door of the room I was sharing with Annie and Jes. He’s a bright man, though, and quickly mentioned that bacon and coffee were readily available at the coffee shop which landed him a hug rather than an obscene gesture.
With some effort, I got myself together and oozed into the van for the ride to the trail head. Everyone got to witness what it takes for me to get prepped for this kind of undertaking… taping the toe, containing the knees with supports, clipping the camera gear into place, etc. And after we commandeered a poor soul to take group shots for us, we set out.
Russ knows how to get an epic adventure started.
Various stages of wakefulness in the pre-hike hours…
Goat Pass and Windy Saddle…
Of course, you know how it goes at the beginning of an adventure, you’re full of energy and excited about what lies ahead. And then we started to understand the warnings about the difficulty of Goat Pass. Up, up, up in the dry Idaho air and at an elevation far above my HQ of Atlanta. I may have slung a few f-bombs and middle fingers at our guides, Marshall and Rick, young bucks who easily bounded up and down the trails in their large packs while I labored under my 40-pound one.
The crew pausing on the ascent to Goat Pass.
Marshall kept encouraging us on, even using the time-honored parental tactic of only “5 more minutes” left to go. To which I looked at him with raised eyebrows and called bullshit. Those of us with in the crew who have kids basically said “Dude, really? You think we don’t know that game?” Please, darlin’. Not our first rodeo.
So we marched onward over Goat Pass. And we were rewarded with a view of Mirror Lake that was both numbingly beautiful and exhilarating. Then it was time to go back down. Over loose, steep, often sketchy terrain that had our sense of self-preservation on high alert.
On this section, Scott and Annie learned about what has been affectionately deemed “Valgasms” by previous adventure-mates. This is when I go uber-nerd about something and can barely speak for the beauty and intrigue of it. A rock. A view. A plant. A bug. It can be any number of things that will stop me in my tracks to ponder and be amazed.
Miraculously, even amidst countless Valgasms, we made it to lunch at Sheep Lake in decent time. The approach was something out of a fairy tale. Lush green grass blanketed the banks of the lake. Soft, squishy mud yielded to a boulder field at the far end. We basked in the sun through lunch, still high on anticipation of what lay ahead.
Before we set back out on the trail, I decided to give my new Potable Aqua PURE device a real-life test. Originally I thought I was packing too much water but by the time we reached the lake, I had already downed two liters and realized I should get some more going on the treatment process. So I gave the PURE a go with my fellow PA ambassador Scott, grabbing some shots for me. But more on that later.
Paulina and I stand triumphant at the top of Goat Pass.
Mirror Lake had us all mesmerized.
Our first day was a whole lot of up!
And a lot of steep, loose, sketchy, knee-tormenting downs.
Giving my Potable Aqua PURE device a try in the field.
He Devil…
We toddled off after lunch, bellies full and with much discussion about attempting to summit He Devil, which was to be a side-trip. I knew before heading to Idaho that I would not be attempting the climb. It was far too rigorous for my physical state at the time, I knew my knees couldn’t hack it AND still hike hard for another two days, and the scrambling involved was too risky for my vulnerable and sensitive hand injury.
At the split, Rick took all the women except me (Dag nab it!), as well as Russ and Shannon to summit He Devil. Shannon was indecisive about it initially. When he had almost landed on not attempting it, we got a taste of what the trip would be with Paulina on board when she quipped… “You’re not as epic as I thought you were.” As you can imagine, that was the tip of the Paulina iceberg and she made the trip very entertaining.
As for the non-He Devil crew… Scott, Adam, and Jeff were left to keep me company as Marshall led us to our camp at Shelf Lake. Shannon caught up with us part of the way into the hike, having reconsidered the He Devil attempt. And so we trundled our way along the rugged trails towards Shelf Lake, starting to grasp the landscape and the joy of being in the Seven Devils.
Scott taking a breather along the trail.
I may have had a couple of Valgams in this spot.
The boulder fields around Sheep Lake made us feel quite small indeed.
Shelf Lake…
We approached Shelf Lake not entirely certain which camp we’d be in for the night. If it was occupied, we’d have to find another. But as we approached, we saw the America’s Rafting Company “sign” for camp and we descended to the lake shore to get our first glimpse of our home for the night. It was also our first glimpse of John the horse dude, our team of three trusty steeds that hauled in our tents and food, as well as John’s epic adventure-dog, Tubs.
We got to setting up our tents, somewhat self-satisfied that we got first dibs at tent spots over the He Devil crew. But it wasn’t long before they arrived at camp, unsuccessful in the ascent. They decided part of the way up that they didn’t have to complete it and get back to camp in time so they rerouted early.
Their disappointment was easily relieved by the fact that we were having fajitas for dinner… and we didn’t even have to cook them ourselves because America’s Rafting Company is just all kinds of awesome. Having never been on a supported trip before, I didn’t know what to expect of meals but boy-oh-boy, did we feast on this trip. As you can tell, our first dinner in the Seven Devils was nothing short of amazing. And it was just the beginning of an adventure full of great food and great company.
Our signal for camp.
Epic fetcher… Tubs.
A great way to cap off our first day in the Seven Devils.
Rick and Marshall whipped up amazing trail fajitas. A chick could get used to this…
Bonding at our Shelf Lake camp.
And with that, we closed out our first day in the Seven Devils and the Hell Hike and Raft adventure. With one amazing day behind us, it was hard to believe we still had five more blissful days to go. More to come. Stay tuned…
And now for your moment of green…
Not a bad view for our first night in the Seven Devils…

November 10, 2014