After spending the night at the Hells Canyon campground, we completed the last few miles to the Box Canyon trailhead and started off into the Lake Plateau. The trail was a delight after all the rocks we'd climbed over the last few days and we took it easy on the way to Lake Kathleen. We passed one large group of backpackers breaking camp and I spotted a huge jar of peanut butter and another enormous bag of oatmeal or some other stable. I guessed it was an institutional group like NOLS or Outward Bound.

A family horse-packing gave us some advice about fishing lakes as they headed out. Cheryl was our designated fisher this trip. I agreed to kill any fish she caught and help her gut and clean them. Lake Kathleen didn't look promising for fish, but Cheryl broke out the rod and practiced casting as we worked the shoreline. I sat in the shade and worked on my journal while Helen began re-hydrating a huge pasta salad meal. I suspected she'd have trouble finishing it and dug through my backpack for my spoon and bowl to be ready.

The large group we'd passed earlier arrived and I quickly confirmed that it was an Outward Bound group. They'd already spent a week canoeing on the Yellowstone River and would now spend 2 weeks backpacking. I talked to the 3 instructors in succession and told them about my Outward Bound experience 13 years ago. One of the instructors was really curious how I came to be backpacking with two women, as if I was a backwoods pimp. Right then Helen interrupted to ask if I wanted any pasta salad.

The Outward Bound group moved off and we packed up and headed after them. Above Lake Kathleen the trail becomes steeper and we passed by the Outward Bound group after they had stripped all the good raspberry plants clean.

A bit after 1 pm we reached Lake Columbine, our planned base camp for the next two nights. We took our time finding a nice spot then napped or explored the lake. I tucked the 3 beers I'd packed in under a rock in the lake to keep them cool then rested in my tent.

Later I noticed two backpackers had joined us at the lake, but after spotting our hidden tents they moved to the other side of the lake. Then I noticed that the Outward Bound group had reached the far side of the lake and were headed up the pass. I grabbed a wind breaker and my camera and took a long look at the darkening clouds to the west and took off up the trail.

Moving unencumbered, I caught to the loaded down students and passed by. Breaking out of the tree line I looked back and noticed the clouds really did look like rain. I hustled further along to look at the view of Pinnacle Mountain, which I hoped to climb the following day, then began running back down the trail. The Outward Bound students looked at me like I was nuts as I flew by in my hiking boots.

I didn't stop running until I reached the last switchback which had been torn up by horses and left a muddy mess. As I picked my way around the water-filled depressions, I noticed Cheryl casting into the lake. She hadn't had any strikes, but the other backpackers came out of the woods and talked to us briefly. They were a father and son group from Montana and friendly. It started to drizzle so Cheryl reeled in the line and we headed back to our side of the lake.

After the rain blew past, we sat out under the skies cooking dinner and enjoying the beers. I knew the next night I'd be wishing I'd packed in 6.