Idaho National Forest
Deep in the Forest, with Bumps in the Night
“Adventure may hurt you, but monotony will kill you."
- Unknown
When I first heard the noise I wasn’t worried,
but the sound only grew louder as it approached. The road to camp was 10 miles long and a mix of dirt and rock. Winding up the forest roads were switchbacks most of the way. As the soundtrack grew, I knew something was wrong. I gave my best effort to disrupt my sleeping tent-mate Mike, until I saw signs of life. Earlier that night he had assured me our location was good - he had been here before. Somewhere near here anyway - as best he could remember..
Stop me if you’ve been led astray, or at least been hoodwinked into thinking you’ve been f**cked out of a good campsite. This was not necessarily one of those nights. Pushing for Idaho was a stretch goal. Our road trip from Nashville all the way west to Yakima, Washington was going to take several days and we knew it. But ever-present was a strong desire to maximize our down-time at places on the bucket list.
Among several contenders, we determined through a range of factors that the Idaho National Forest would be home for the night. Oh, and free - that was a key component as you can stay up to 21 days on BLM or National Forest land with no reservation, no check-in, no nothing. The freedom of come and go as you please is often a powerful one when you don’t know quite how far you will make it that day. I prefer a style of travel that is low-stress and rewards the absence of too much planning. There are many lessons learned over the years when I didn’t quite plan far enough in advance, but that wasn’t what got me that clear October night during the first fall of the pandemic. One of the easiest ways to get in trouble on the road is becoming overconfident (because no one starts out that way).
This phenomenon can come to life in a number of ways, but that day for me, it was overconfidence due to perceived prior experience. See, I had been here before - or at least that’s what I had told myself. In all fairness, I have been to Coeur d’Alene more than one time before this most entertaining of evenings. However, it was only in brevity and perhaps more importantly - only during the daytime.
You’ve been everywhere else but here.
OFF THE GRID // Idaho, 1883
Humans are naturally optimistic, just ask lawyers, of whom 80% believe that they will graduate at the top 20% of their law class. If this all too common lack of self-awareness hits you half as often as it does me, you could find yourself ignoring your gut instincts as well. If so, you might wind up on an ever-steeper and somehow increasingly darker unpaved road in pursuit of a very specific thing - your travel companions internal memory to jar loose long enough to recognize that we had arrived.
Remembering an old but familiar campsite in the boonies can be hard in the dark for just about anyone. The density of the forest had my mind wondering where I was going to be able to turn around safely on the narrow roads while towing a trailer filled with bird dogs. Counting Mike, I had six heartbeats onboard. Around here, the K-9s get as much consideration as any.
In all fairness, Mike had dealt with my travel anxiety (yes, I said it) exceptionally well that day and was confidently and calmly guiding us towards our home base for the evening. We weren’t that worried about the lack of cell reception, even though these were the days before Starlink. Mike continued to remind me that he had visited this exact spot just the year before.
After driving twice as far as we originally thought we would need to go off-road, we found a wide circle opening that looked as good as gold for setting camp that night. As darkness had already fallen, we made our way around camp in headlamps. We consumed a cold beverage or three while scoping out the best place to put our tent.
I’m not sure if it was the continued optimism I spoke about earlier, or the middle of the second Miller High Life, but when I noticed all the broken glass on the ground it didn’t bother me as much as it should have. I filed that concerning thought away and brushed it out of my mind. I made a quick comment to Mike about needing to exercise caution during the morning departure - as to not punch a hole in one of our tires this far off road. It made me nervous, but alas it was time to pitch the tent and get some rest.
On this occasion of adventurous road trips gone wrong, I didn’t yet possess the studio apartment on wheels' I’ve spoken about previously (The Scout Olympic Truck Camper). What I did still have in my truck was the original North Face Mountain 25, a four-season tent I had been camping with since high school. If you’ve ever seen a photograph of Everest base camp, the Mountain 25 is what you’re looking at. Sufficient overkill for an evening in the woods. Aside from the rocky surface of the gravel (and yes glass) road - we put down a heavy tarp and made our home for the night.
As we sunk into the beauty that is a Therm-a-Rest, (a seemingly but not actually overpriced piece of camping technology in which to lay our heads) the Champagne of Beers hit the spot. It was now time to fade slowly into deep sleep, in the beauty that is the Idaho National Forest.
Gear // The North Face Mountain 25, a venerable home in nearly any environment - from the woods of Mammoth Cave National Park (above) to the de facto choice for alpine base camps worldwide.
On midnight wake-ups //
All animals possess the ability to sense immediate danger. The variety of outcomes can be explained by the multitude of reactions we bring to these scenarios, which we often can’t explain or understand. These core, gut reactions can be triggered by a single one of our senses - or a number of them at once. When you’re on the road traveling, it’s a less-than-enjoyable experience. Around 1 a.m. that early morning, a mere hour after we had laid down to rest, it was sound that told us we were f*cked right away.
I mean y’all know what I’m saying - sometimes you just know. This is not good. This will not end well. That is not a good sound. These cannot be good conditions. Shit, I did not plan for this. Life comes at you fast.
When most of us encounter these travel mistakes, we usually come down hard on ourselves. It’s understandable - we made the choice to be here in the first place. There’s only so many people to blame. Did we not do enough research? Put too much faith in our fellow man? Imagine only Disney-style endings out in the pure wilderness?
Anyone who’s ever been confused, concerned, or downright uncomfortable and left feeling compromised while on the road knows what I’m talking about. You just know what’s coming isin’t good.
As the sound built, I started to wake Mike to let him know what was coming our way. I also wondered if my mind was playing tricks on me and knew I needed a second opinion.
With Mike fully awake, it was time to act. We took the following 30 seconds to consider what might be taking place:
a gang of organized off-road nocturnal criminals?
people driving loudly to their… campsite?
people coming to murder us in the night
we will not go quietly into the night
shit we may be about to go quietly into the night
As this series of realizations dawned on us, Mike’s reaction turned from chill to full-blown “yeah this is happening”. If it were just us, I guess I would have let it ride, but as the three-vehicle group of off-road enemies met us in the wee hours of the new day, it was pretty clear they were not just here to party.
About that time, I had decided I wasn’t going down in a big yellow tent. I looked out our vestibule while putting my shoes on in the dark, and crouched down to see what was happening on the other side of the truck.
The vehicle array that had entered our several-acre gravel circle proceeded to turn donuts and throw huge rocks into our truck and dog trailer like a broken record. We let it go on for a minute or longer, which felt like an eternity. In a weird and somehow perfectly planned piece of resistance, our tent was positioned defensively behind the truck and trailer combo and was totally spared from the chaos by our steel and aluminum shield.
Around the time of their third pass, I decided I had enough and emerged from the tent and leaped onto the tailgate of my truck. The best advice I can offer you for self-defense in a situation like this where you feel threatened on the road is to study and learn the local laws and regulations. Then equip yourself accordingly.
From my elevated position, I could now clearly see what was happening. Although I hadn’t ruled out the worst-case scenarios above for how the night would end, it was clear these were mostly homo sapiens of the local variety. Loudly enjoying their evening, the three vehicle set of 4WD hooligans had clearly visited to enjoy the lack of law enforcement presence, judgment, or regard for anyone else’s property.
Thankfully, as Mike joined me at the truck - they realized it was more than property they were slinging rocks into and paused at the other side of the circle, prepping for their next run. I looked at Mike, wondering if this was about to become a scene reenacted from an old Marty Robbins song.
In reality, it turned out more like a scene at a bullfight. Something I have experienced but wish I hadn’t. After lots of wheel-spinning and engine revving, all three vehicles lurched ahead towards us from the other side of the clearing. Instead of taking their normal route, a mere redzone possession from our goal line, they hung a left and drove deeper into the woods - taking their heavy metal music, flying empty beer cans and pursuit of criminal activity with them.
Just as fast as it had begun - it was over. However long it took Mike to convince me they were not coming back and we were safe for the rest of the night, I can promise you it took longer to fall asleep.
In the end, no one wants to be jumped while they sleep. I share this story of travel hell come to life only in the spirit to diagnose what could have caused lasting travel depression. When we travel, it can be easy to forget we are encroaching on others' local community (or in this case, having apparently stumbled into the local stomping ground.)
It doesn’t really matter how much you respect the land and how well you treat it if the locals don’t know that - or worse, don’t care. Although I don’t think that’s something you’re going to encounter a lot on the road, if you do don’t get discouraged easily.
Although the laws of the universe will always require you to be prepared for the unexpected, you can’t fault yourself for not having a late night roadhouse outtake on your bingo card. Sometimes I aimlessly wonder what’s stopping people from making more trips? I tell myself it’s lack of exposure and shared experiences, but what the hell do I know - I think it may be that travel is a lot harder than most people think. It’s one of those things that sounds easy, but is a long way from it.
No matter your level of travel experience, you will get caught in some sort of travel faux pas along the way one day. If you can take these learned experiences and consider them as wins, there’s a lot of destinations around the world worth your time and money. The Idaho National Forest is a stunningly beautiful place, and despite my unique evening I’ll be returning.
As dawn arrived a few hours later, we recounted our wild evening in disbelief of the whole nine yards. It started to get so beautiful out, the tales of the evening encounter faded away just in time to launch the drone and get a better look at our surroundings. I hope you enjoy the views and look forward to hearing your own versions of travel bingo in the replies.
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