The Trip
Idaho doesn't always get its due in the backcountry conversation — it tends to live in the shadow of the Tetons, the Cascades, and the Colorado high country. But the Sawtooth Wilderness makes a compelling case that it should. The range rises from the valley outside Stanley in a jagged granite line that stops you cold the first time you see it, and the comparison to the Tetons isn't an exaggeration. We flew into Boise and made the drive north, arriving in Stanley in the late afternoon with the Sawtooths towering over the sage flats and the light doing exactly what it's supposed to do in the Mountain West in July.
The evening before the hike we drove to Redfish Lake Lodge for dinner. The bar has knotty pine-paneled walls and a well-made old fashioned, and standing out on the dock afterward the water was the clearest I've ever seen — turquoise and impossibly transparent, reflecting the peaks above in near-perfect stillness. The morning we set out we stopped at the Stanley Baking Company, famous for their baked goods and hearty breakfast. That's the right way to start a hike.
"The Sawtooths rise from the valley outside Stanley in a jagged granite line that stops you cold the first time you see it. The comparison to the Tetons isn't an exaggeration."
We set off from the Tin Cup trailhead at Pettit Lake under warm July skies — hot, but manageable under the trees. The first section winds through forest and crosses a handful of streams as the trail climbs toward the high country, with El Capitan's granite face looming larger the further in you go. A brief afternoon shower rolled through and passed quickly, as mountain storms tend to do. We found a good campsite at the west end of Lake Alice, set down our packs, jumped in to cool off, and were asleep not long after dinner.
Day two started with a short detour up to Twin Lakes, worth the short extra hike for the undisturbed view of the surrounding peaks. Departing Twin Lakes, the trail turns serious with the steady switchbacks taking us toward the pass at Snowyside Peak. It's the kind of climb that earns what it gives you. We enjoyed a rest at the pass and a refreshing drink before heading down towards Toxaway Lake. The descent was lined with summer wildflowers, and we dropped down to Toxaway for lunch and a swim before making camp that evening near a beautiful cascade in the vicinity of Farley Lake. The sound of moving water made for good company.
The final morning had one more card to play. Just when the legs were ready to be done, the route sent us up a 500-foot spur trail before it would let us back to the trailhead. Hot, tiring, and completely in character for a loop that doesn't take the easy way out. We celebrated the right way: a drive to Ketchum, a cold Schooner at Grumpy's, and a steak dinner at the Pioneer Saloon. Also worth noting: the Starbucks in Ketchum is my favorite— I can't explain it, but I stand by it.
