The truck rattled; the tires occasionally slipped as though it were snow rather than dust and gravel beneath them. The edge of the mountain felt too close. The drive, too long.
When we’d left the house, the GPS directions indicated it would take one hour and fifty-one minutes to get to the trailhead. We were headed for Burton Peak in Boundary County, Idaho, 30 minutes from the Canadian border.
I’d been driving for two hours. The map showed we had another 26 miles and an hour left on our journey toward the hard five-mile hike.
I clenched my fingers more tightly around the steering wheel.
“We could turn around. Check out a hike at the refuge,” Ken said.
We’d passed the entrance to the Kootenai National Wildlife Refuge at the base of the Selkirk Mountains 30 minutes earlier.
My lower back ached thanks to the stiff car seat. My stomach churned from the bumpy drive. “Good idea,” I said, slowing the vehicle and performing a three-point turn on the narrow empty roadway.
We’d been to the refuge once before, prior to moving to Northern Idaho. That day, we’d hoped to spot moose standing in the long grass of the wetlands. Our desire for nature had instead been satiated by the sight of a small black bear walking along a hillside.
Ken searched for trail information on his phone. “Ole Humpback Trail is eight miles.”
“Eeh,” I said. It felt too late in the day to start a hike that distance.
“This one sounds good. Deep Creek Trail, 4.3 miles, moderate,” he said.
“Great.” I smiled.
“Oh, it’s closed,” he said. “Kootenai Refuge Loop, also closed. That leaves Myrtle Falls Trail. Easy. Point eight miles.”
When I started my 50 at 50 hiking project, I had not imagined writing about any trek so short.
I paused. Considered how far we’d driven. “Let’s do it,” I said.
Our travel through the park was slowed by construction workers and long waits at temporary stoplights powered by humming generators, but we finally reached the parking lot for the trail. The cement was torn up.
Ignoring the possibility that this route, too, was closed, I parked on the side of the road.
We walked past the construction. Followed a paved path toward the trailhead. Crossed a quaint wooden bridge over a rocky stream. Ambled past fallen logs and green ferns, up switchbacks. In almost no time, we reached the outlook for the falls. The water flowed down rock into a sparkling pool.
At our feet, carved into a stone staircase, were the footprint of a bear and the outline of a leafy branch. Modern-day petroglyphs.
When we finished, we walked toward the visitor center, stopping to admire the view – long grass: yellow, then green for miles, and a chain of mountains under a blue sky.
Although we’d been out of the truck for a good hour, my stomach still felt sour. I headed toward the restroom, where I identified the true source of my discomfort. The symptoms should have been obvious, but nearly a year had passed since my last period.
I cleaned up and headed back outside - found Ken reading the exhibits.
“Forty thousand ducks will rest here during fall migration,” he said. “Most Mallards. Huh. We almost never see Mallards out here.”
“Mmm,” I said, but my mind was elsewhere. I thought I’d blasted through menopause with a minimum of the effects I’d been forewarned of. Yes, I’d had hot flashes. Unexpected bouts of sweating. I no longer sleep through the night, waking at 3:00 am, tossing and turning before I re-enter dreamland. But what I’d been most worried about had never happened - the extreme mood swings.
Years ago, I’d read an interview with Penny Lancaster and her husband, Rod Stewart. She described depression and uncontrollable fits of rage while she’d gone through “the change.” She once threw plates across the kitchen. Stewart had said, “She wasn’t the person I married.”
So far, I’d had the opposite. Prone to deep bouts of dark sadness since childhood, I’d found my moods leveling out. I had serenity and thought, perhaps, it was because my hormones had shifted for the better. Now, I was worried. Maybe I still had to brace myself for what would come.
Soon, we were back in our truck. We decided to drive the 4.5-mile-long scenic Auto Tour, but it turned out that it, too, was inaccessible on this day.
We left the park and stopped for lunch on the way home. We shared French fries and watched the leaves on the trees dancing in the wind as cool air blew in. Summer is almost over. Fall on its way.
JUST THE FACTS: Myrtle Falls Trail, Boundary County, Idaho
Distance: .8 miles (total out and back)
Estimated Time: ~ 30 minutes
Elevation Gain: 127 feet
Key Highlights: Waterfall, sparkling creek, forest of green ferns and conifers.
Difficulty: Easy (but still some steep spots).
Call for Comments: Have you hiked Myrtle Falls Trail? Share your stories, tips, and local history in the comments, or submit to Readers’ Hike to have your adventure highlighted.
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