I was hiking from the top of Dry Creek drainage, where we left my pickup truck. Hiking up and over the ridge through Forest Service land, all the way to my house …. We were hunting for white tail bucks! My dad told me that there was a small trail to follow most of the way, from what he remembers when he and my mom hiked it. But what my dad failed to mention is that, 20 years ago was the last time that they hiked that area.

Early on in our adventure, we discovered that there was certainly not a trail. Everything was very overgrown. We both had hunting packs and our rifles on our backs, and we ended up having to crawl through several spots that were completely grown shut. There were a few game trails that we followed which helped us navigate the terrain. The animals had made a switchback trail through one part of the steep mountain side. This made things a little easier … until the trail ended! Then it was back to climbing over down trees and crawling through lots of underbrush. All the while, we were trying to stay quiet, hopeful to sneak up on a big buck. While trying to make our way through, we definitely weren’t sneaking up on anything!

We finally made it to the top and it was getting dark, so we quickly started making our way down with two old flashlights. Based on the timeline it took my parents to make the trip 20 or so years ago, we weren’t expecting our hunting trip to go into the late evening! It took a while, but we made the trip down without a trail and on wet mossy covered sharp rocks. The only wildlife that we saw on the whole trip was one squirrel, who was also eventually scared off by all the bushwacking.

When we finally got back to the driveway in the pitch black, there were three deer nestled down in our field for the night… who probably laughing at us for what we just went through to see nothing but that one squirrel. We came up empty handed that hunting trip, and it was definitely the hardest hike I’ve ever done! However, I was excited to go back out the next weekend for another adventure. A couple of weeks after that trip, I was out hunting again and harvested my biggest buck yet! After that big adventure in November, it made the reward that much better.

Piper is a graduating Senior from Clark Fork High School. They submitted this essay for FSPW’s high school scholarship contest. Stay tuned for more winning essays from students across Idaho and Montana.

The post Voices in the Wilderness – Piper Scarlett first appeared on Scotchman Peaks Wilderness.

The journey began long before we hit the trail. The drive up the dusty windy road toward Chicago Peak was a memory in itself. I remember watching the pines blur past as we climbed high and feeling a sense of importance as we crossed the boundary into the designated wilderness. Once we got out of the truck there was a sign explaining that beyond this point was, no motors, no wheels, and no shortcuts could follow us. If we wanted to see the lake, we had to earn it on foot.

At seven years old, a three-mile trek feels like quite the journey. Every step over the jagged rocks and through the dense brush turned out to be quite the physical challenge with my short legs. My pack, though small by adult standards, felt like an anchor. But I remember looking at my dad and my friend, realizing that the struggle was kind of the point.

There was a unique bond forming in that shared effort, a silent understanding that some of the best things in life aren’t found at the end of a paved road, but out in the wilderness, something you have to work for.

When we finally rounded the last switchback and Cliff Lake came into view, the exhaustion vanished. Tucked into a massive bowl in the mountain side and shadowed by the sheer rock walls of St. Paul Peak, the water was so clear as glass. We spent that afternoon casting lines, the silence only broken by the holler of one of us sliping in the water or yelling about a fish. Standing there, miles from the nearest light switch or cell tower, I remember a feeling of peace. That trip sparked a lifelong obsession with exploration and a deep respect for the preservation of the natural beauty around us.

That seventh birthday wasn’t just a celebration, it was a start to a way of life that values the hard-earned over the easy. It taught me that sometimes the most beautiful places on earth don’t have paved roads, shortcut trails, or cell service, they only have the stories of those willing to trek into them. This early exposure to the Cabinet Mountains is the reason I still seek out and explore the wilderness of the Northwest today. Even just a couple weeks ago when it was snowy and cold, me and my friends still went up and explored and camped on one of the mountains around Clarkfork. It’s these experiences that make life exciting and really show the beauty of the world around us. I hope that there will always be places untouched by civilization for people to explore and feel alive and free.

I want to live a life defined by self reliance and the hard working values I first learned as a kid in the Cabinet Mountains. Experiencing the final destination of Cliff Lake taught me early on that you don’t truly appreciate an experience unless you’ve put in the effort to earn it. Today, I try to bring that same grit and respect into everything I do.

Caden is a graduating Senior from Sandpoint High School. They submitted this essay for FSPW’s high school scholarship contest. Stay tuned for more winning essays from students across Idaho and Montana.

The post Voices in the Wilderness – Caden Martz first appeared on Scotchman Peaks Wilderness.

This trip was my first real overnight trip, and it was to Lower Hanging Valley Lake in the Cabinet Mountain Wilderness. This is about a seven-mile hike up to the lake, which was a sure challenge for me as I was in the 6th grade. I vividly remember the steep trail that seemed like it would never end as a young kid. This backpacking trip was shared by my two brothers, my dad, and our black lab at the time. We departed from the trailhead very early in the morning, and it was notably a warm and sunny summer day. As we climbed higher and higher into the Cabinets, there were incredible views on sections of the trail, specifically sections that were just on the edge of several-hundred-foot cliffs. I walk over and stare down cliffs like it’s no big deal now when I go backpacking, but as a young 12-year-old, the intimidating drops were enough to keep me hugging the inside of the trail all the way up.

After about seven miles of grueling trail, we had finally reached our destination at the lake, and just as I do every time I reach the end, I threw off my pack and found the nearest comfy-looking stump. The next several hours consisted of me and my family members setting up sleeping pads, gathering firewood, and fishing, all while our black lab, Willy, sniffed around the campsite. Almost every cast there was a bite, and we caught several cutthroat trout that we cooked for dinner. The summer heat eventually got to me and my brothers as we decided it was a good idea to take a swim in the crystal-clear waters. This was my first time swimming in a mountain lake, and I very quickly realized that they do not get very warm, even in the dead of summer.

This wilderness experience, however, is extremely special and memorable for one very important aspect that happened late at night. Because there was no rain in the forecast, we slept only in our sleeping bags on blow-up pads under the stars. I remember the night sky that was as clear as I’d ever seen it, covered with millions of stars as we stayed up for hours talking, with Willy laying by our side. We soon went to sleep until we woke up to the sound of Willy growling. My dad signaled me and my brothers to be very still and pointed to our right, where about 15 feet away were two mountain goats eating huckleberries right next to us in the moonlit night. This was by far the most incredible experience I have had to this day with any kind of wildlife, and I will remember it for the rest of my life. Willy eventually broke loose from my dad’s grasp and chased the mountain goats off for the night.

The hike back to the trailhead in the morning was much easier than the way up, probably because I couldn’t stop thinking about the event that had unfolded the night before. This backpacking experience was just the beginning for me, as I spend several days a summer now hiking up to new lakes and peaks in the Cabinet Mountains. This trip and the events that unfolded sparked my love for wildlife and the outdoors that has become a huge part of my personality today, and I will never forget this memorable experience.

Tristan is a graduating Senior from Libby High School. They submitted this essay for FSPW’s high school scholarship contest. Stay tuned for more winning essays from students across Idaho and Montana.

The post Voices in the Wilderness – Tristan Andersen first appeared on Scotchman Peaks Wilderness.

Two years ago, my mom had the opportunity to go on a three-night, four-day, 26-mile backcountry hike in Glacier National Park after being invited by a friend who won the backcountry lottery. When she told me about it, I was completely drawn in. She described hiking into Gunsight Lake the first day, then continuing onto Lake Ellen Wilson, where they spent time by the water and even watching someone in their group catch a fish. One of the most unforgettable parts of her story was hearing glaciers crack in the distance, sounding like dynamite echoing through the mountains. She also told me about seeing eight grizzly bears, including mothers with cubs, and encountering mountain goats that would even try to steal gear if it was left out. She described crossing waterfalls, hiking narrow rock walls in the rain, and pushing through moments where she questioned what she had gotten herself into. But through all of it, she talked about the incredible views, the towering peaks, the sunrises and sunsets, and the feeling of being completely immersed in the wilderness.

Hearing her story made me want to experience it for myself. It wasn’t just about the adventure, it was about the challenge, beauty, and the connection to something bigger than yourself. Last year, she took me with her to Glacier, and even though we didn’t go into the backcountry, it was still one of the most amazing trips I’ve ever been on. We stayed in a campground and spent our days hiking some incredible trails. We hiked to Hidden Lake, which offered stunning views and a chance to see wildlife up close, but my favorite was Virginia Falls. There was something about being surrounded by mountains with the bright blue water rushing past that made it unforgettable. It felt peaceful and powerful at the same time.

That trip only made me fall even more in love with hiking. Experiencing Glacier with my mom, after hearing her stories, made it even more meaningful. It felt like I was stepping into something that had already inspired her, and now it was becoming part of my own story too. We already have plans to go back again this summer, and I can’t wait. One day, I hope to take on the full backcountry experience just like she did, but for now, I’m grateful for every trail, every view, and every memory that hiking continues to give me.

Gabrielle is a graduating Senior from Thompson Falls High School. They submitted this essay for FSPW’s high school scholarship contest. Stay tuned for more winning essays from students across Idaho and Montana.

The post Voices in the Wilderness – Gabrielle Hannum first appeared on Scotchman Peaks Wilderness.

I’m writing to you today to express my gratitude towards you. How you’re always changing, adapting, demanding.

Thank you for the sunshine, it’s been needed. Thank you for the breeze and rain and mud. You’ve brought the birds and fresh air back too. Don’t get me wrong, I love the snow and the cold and cozy we create to combat the ice but what comes after is your most beautiful creation. There’s still snow in the hills but there’s flowers and dirt and grass in the valleys. Your nights are cold but you always warm us back up in the mid-morning sun.

You always know right when to change too. Right as we start to feel tired and worn down, we feel you shift. Now we can eat, gather, and dance in the daylight. Just as you change, we also must change. We go from bundling ourselves in layers to shedding; We cut our hair, clean our homes, swap our skis for bikes, our knee high boots for trail shoes. Thank you for teaching us change. You bloom and breath and flow. Your change signifies life. We watch as fish move up from lakes to streams, as bugs hatch and fly, as your plants bud and grow and bloom.

This season marks a season of abundance. Thank you for providing everything we need, I know we take too much from you but I promise we’ll try harder to give back.

I grew up loving you, like most other people do. To be honest, you raised me in your wild lands. I hiked your trails, climbed your rocks, floated your streams, explored deep into the untouched wilderness of your mountains, looked across your vast deserts, canoed your lakes, and played in the mud and the water and in the rain. Sometimes cursing you and your temperamental changes but always grateful for the adventure and classroom you provided.

Thank you for being our solace, excitement, and reverie. We still have so much more of you to see and explore, and love. Hopefully we can take care of you the way you take care of us.

Happy Earth Day

-Savannah

Savannah is the Programs Manager for Friends of Scotchman Peaks Wilderness in Sandpoint, Idaho. Join her on a hike up Scotchman Peak or at a trail work party this summer to share her passion of connecting to our wild backyard.

The post Dear Earth first appeared on Scotchman Peaks Wilderness.

Fear not, because even as I retire, I leave the Friends in the very good hands of the talented and capable Rose Olson, our incoming Executive Director. I am grateful for her abilities and eagerness to guide the organization and the effort. While I leave the daily work to Rose and an excellent staff, backed up by a dedicated board, Wilderness remains in my heart and the Scotchmans remain in my soul.

Many years ago, I wrote my first “Give Thanks for the Wild” column. So long ago, I don’t remember exactly when I started this Thanksgiving tradition. This year, I look back with 21 years of gratitude for the whole experience. From the original couple dozen folks who came together to form the “Friends”, and in the process became friends of one and another, I’ve met many people, with varied backgrounds, lives and perspectives, who all share an interest in wild places.

I am especially grateful to all the many current and former volunteers, board members and staff; their dedication and passion for wild places have been remarkable and inspiring.? It has kept me going for two decades.

There are so many memorable experiences. I am grateful for the 20-mile ski trek on a cold, rainy February day with the district ranger and his wife to retrieve a camera station as part of our Rare Forest Carnivore study. Listening to Doug Scott, Wilderness guru, cite, by memory, testimony from field hearings in the 70s. Of hiking to the top of Scotchman Peak with two county commissioners in 2015 and unfurling a banner proclaiming “Bonner County Loves Scotchman Peak.” Of accompanying senior management from Idaho Forest group into the Scotchmans and watching their eyes open with wonder at the wilderness charms. This community of Wilderness supporters comes together one person at a time, each with their own unique experiences. There are 12,000 more of these moments, too many to detail here. I am thankful for them all.

We have brought together over 12,000 thousand people from across Idaho and Montana, as well as the rest of the nation in support of wilderness. We have nurtured a broader, deeper sense of conservation by community leaders. We have built a robust trail maintenance program to keep trail access open to hikers. Our trail ambassadors keep hikers safe, trails open, and mountain goats wild. The wide-eyed wonder of the 5th graders who come through our Winter Tracks program inspires everyone involved. We brought together non-traditional allies in support of community-based solutions for forest land management challenges. I am grateful to be passing on a legacy of building strong communities.

My recent sabbatical reminds me there are yet more trails and rivers to explore. So many wild places to visit. It’s time to follow Ed Abbey’s “Final Paragraph” of advice:?“It is not enough to fight for the land; it is even more important to enjoy it. While you can. While it’s still here. So, get out there and hunt and fish and mess around with your friends, ramble out yonder and explore the forests, climb the mountains, bag the peaks, run the rivers, breathe deep of that yet sweet and lucid air, sit quietly for a while and contemplate the precious stillness, the lovely, mysterious, and awesome space.”

*pictured above – 2014 Oct. Bonner County Commissioner Cary Kelly, Glen Bailey, Deb Hunsicker, Cheryl Bailey, Brent Heiser, and Phil Hough

The post Two Decades of Gratitude first appeared on Scotchman Peaks Wilderness.

January 2026 will bring in a new year, marking the Friends of Scotchman Peaks Wilderness 21st Anniversary! January will also bring in a transition of leadership for FSPW. I will be retiring, and Rose Olson will step up to become our next Executive Director!

It seems like only yesterday, but the 21 years I’ve spent leading FSPW has been longer than my career in hotel management. In 2005, those of us who launched this grassroots campaign thought, naively, we would be done and wrapped up in 3 to 5 years. I had no idea this would become a second career, but the Scotchman Peaks came to define my life’s work, my “second act”.

This work has been made possible by an ensemble cast. I am so grateful to all the many current and former volunteers, board members and staff; their dedication and passion for wild places has been remarkable and inspiring. It has kept me going for two decades. And together we have accomplished so much.

In the very first months our steering committee met every week, learning about the area, about Wilderness, about grassroots advocacy, about each other. We laid out plans. We put together 18 benchmarks. These were stages to achieve and build on leading up to the final goal – the passage of a bill, by Congress, designating the Scotchman Peaks as Wilderness. Except for this final step (and it’s a big one) we have accomplished every stage.

We brought together thousands of people from across Idaho and Montana, as well as the rest of the nation in support of wilderness. We have nurtured a broader, deeper sense of conservation by community leaders. We have built a robust trail maintenance program to keep trail access open to all. Our Trail Ambassadors keep hikers safe, trails open and mountain goats wild. The wide eyed wonder of the 5th graders who come through our Winter Tracks program inspire everyone involved. We brought together non-traditional allies in support of community based solutions for forest land management challenges. I am proud of the legacy we are passing on.

My most cherished memories are the friendships built over coffee (or wine or beer) with the “timber guys” or the “mining guys”. The discovery that we all share a personal connection to the land.

I am proud to have led FSPW’s growth into a strong organization. We have a dedicated board and staff, over 12,000 supporters and engage over 150 unique individual every year as volunteers. Our organizational “bones” are solid. The next generation of staff and board members are ready. It’s time to let them fully flex their wings, to bring fresh energy and ideas. It’s hard to let go of something that’s occupied so much of my life over 21 years; but I also know that the time is right. The organization is solid. Rose, our deputy ED, is ready to take on the role of ED and guide FSPW into the next 21 years. And perhaps to get congress to come along as well.

I’ll always call Sandpoint home and continue to be a part of building a strong local community. I will volunteer and work (part time) for causes that matter. There’s more legacy work to be done.

But now, it’s time for me to explore my “3rd act”. My recent sabbatical reminds me there are trails and rivers to explore. So many wild places I have yet to visit. It reminded me of Ed Abbey’s “Final Paragraph” of advice: “It is not enough to fight for the land; it is even more important to enjoy it. While you can. While it’s still here. So, get out there and hunt and fish and mess around with your friends, ramble out yonder and explore the forests, climb the mountains, bag the peaks, run the rivers, breathe deep of that yet sweet and lucid air, sit quietly for a while and contemplate the precious stillness, the lovely, mysterious, and awesome space.”

The post An Era of Change first appeared on Scotchman Peaks Wilderness.

Phil reflected, “The Scotchmans have been at the center of my life’s work, and I’m so proud of what we’ve accomplished together. I can’t wait to see Rose lead this organization into its next chapter.”

Stepping into the role of Executive Director will be someone many of you already know – our Deputy Executive Director, Rose Olson. Rose joined FSPW in 2023 and has been a dynamic force ever since. Growing up in northern Idaho, she knows firsthand how special the Scotchmans are. Alongside her work with FSPW, she also serves on the board of the Sandpoint Nordic Club, where she organizes the Youth Ski League and has coached Pend Oreille Pedaler’s youth mountain biking programs since 2020. Rose is passionate about carrying forward the work of protecting the Scotchmans while building connections with the next generation of wilderness advocates.

Rose added, “The wild places of Idaho are part of who I am. I’m excited, and a little in awe!, to step into this role. I’m looking forward to continue working alongside this community to keep our backyard wild for generations to come.”

Read Phil’s personal reflection on his retirement here. 

The post FSPW Leadership Transition first appeared on Scotchman Peaks Wilderness.

Jumbo Lookout
August 7th, 2025

I once asked a group of fifth graders what wilderness meant to them. A few responses stuck out to me. “It’s like a little tingle inside,” one said. And “It protects our soul.” It sure can mean a lot of things, but I would have to say those descriptions are pretty fitting. Although it is a federally designated piece of land that remains protected from development where rivers and creeks flow freely, animals roam, where people go backpack, float, fish, etc. It’s all those and more. Sitting up in one of the most remote lookouts in the lower 48, I am reminded just how vast this place really is. The Bob Marshall Wilderness offers views of winding river valleys, to peaks soring above. It brings me great joy knowing people fought to protect this spectacular land. The wolves I saw in the meadow just the other morning are free to wander as they please. Elk, deer, foxes, bears, alike have countless miles of streams, forests, and prairie to enjoy. Wilderness is a place. Many places. But it also evokes certain feelings. It provides the “sanity of man” as I heard someone once say. Feelings such as solitude, loneliness, pure joy, and appreciation. It brews passion in people that I don’t see anywhere else in the world. Places such as the Bob need to continue to be protected, fought for, and cared for. It’s imperative that the streams and rivers remain crisp and clean and full of fish, forests free, and wildlife abundant. I’m not sure who or where I would be without wilderness, as I do truly feel shaped by the places I’ve seen and the people I’ve been lucky enough to share them with.

“So get out there and hunt and fish and mess around with your friends, ramble out yonder and explore the forests, climb the mountains, bag the peaks, run the rivers, breath deep of that yet sweet and lucid air. Sit quietly for a while and contemplate the precious stillness, the lovely, mysterious, and awesome space”

-Edward Abbey

 
P.S. Sorry for the typos. This typewriter ain’t easy to use.

My good friend and former co-worker, Emily, wrote this submission a few weeks ago and sent it to me. But she didn’t send it the regular way, she sent it via snail mail. I know, odd for a 25 year old to send a letter to a friend in the mail but this is how we communicate during the summer trail season. Emily works for the USFS as Wilderness Trails Technician, and spends the entire 6 month season, in the backcountry. Living there without cell service, electricity, or even a land line. She and a few other folks live at a place called Schafer Meadows Guard Station in the heart of the Bob Marshall Wilderness Complex in northwest Montana. Theres no grocery store or mail service out where she lives and the nearest road is an 18 mile hike, and then a 2 hour drive to cell service. So in order to communicate and get food, a string of Forest Service mules come in every other week. That’s how I got this letter from her. Because of recent Forest Service budget cuts, the trail crew members take turns manning the sum of the remote fire lookouts in the Bob during high fire danger. Emily wrote me this Voices of the Wilderness submission/ letter on a typewriter, while manning one of the most remote fire lookouts in the lower 48. It is multiple days hike to the top and looks over almost the entire wilderness portion south fork of the flathead drainage. I hope you enjoyed it.

-Savannah

The post Voices in the Wilderness – Emily Clark first appeared on Scotchman Peaks Wilderness.

I remember my outdoor experiences usually by their most memorable moment. Camping in an unexpected snow storm, getting an uncountable amount of blisters on my first backpacking trip, going on an epic canoe trip and being hammered by wind, seeing a grizzly bear 20 feet down a trail 40 miles from the nearest trailhead. All of these moments can define a trip into the backcountry.

One of my most memorable outdoor trip moments, that has forever stuck in my mind was a trip I took with my family when I was in elementary school. My family and I embarked on an epic adventure down Hells Canyon where we would float for an entire week through the desert cliffs and down complex white water rapids. This trip has many memories that stuck out to me but the most memorable moment was before we even pushed out into the water.

The days leading up to the trip were filled with the typical family cluster of getting 3 kids packed and ready, two dogs boarded, a week’s worth of food, beverages and games packed up, and a boat repaired and prepped to be tip top shape. Thinking we had passed every pre trip hurdle, we hit the road and drove to Riggins, Idaho, where we would caravan with one other family of 5, to meet up with the rest of our float crew.

Just as the sun started to set (we were of course, running late) a tire flew off the boat trailer and launched down a hill towards and the Snake River only a few miles outside of the nearest town and without cell service.

With no good place to pull over we were forced to stop in the middle of the highway and get out to search for the tire, and all the lug nuts. All the kids then wandered the road for an hour only to successfully find three lug nuts. After the adults got the spare on we proceeded to our camping spot at a snail’s pace arriving in the wee hours of the morning. The rest of our party was dead asleep and out of pure exhaustion my father laid out a tarp, threw down the sleeping bags and begged us to just go to sleep. I laid down and stared up at the sky too wired to sleep from the epic adventure of searching for a tire.

With the rest of the family asleep, I stared up at the sky in awe of the stars with my dad, and that’s when it happened, I saw my first shooting star! The pure excitement of it kept me up for even longer. There I laid on the ground, tired as all be but unable to sleep, snuggled up with my dad, watching shooting stars for as long as my eyes could stay open.

The adventure of just getting to the campground at the put-in was a precursor for how the rest of the week went, a week of adventure, beauty and lots of mishap, but I will never forget the feeling of seeing that shooting star, and the excitement of being just on the edge of adventure. This is a feeling that has since become familiar with every adventure I embark on, but none have felt the way seeing that first shooting star felt.

Savannah is the FSPW Programs Director – wrangling Trail Ambassadors and leading trail projects all summer long. She grew up in Boise and moved to Sandpoint with her partner in 2025 for the job! Prior to her role in the Scotchmans, Savannah worked for the Forest Service in the Bob Marshall Wilderness where she picked up all kinds of handy skills and adventure stories from workin’ in the woods.

The post Voices in the Wilderness – Savannah Willison first appeared on Scotchman Peaks Wilderness.