While we’ve had soft openings here and here and here, here is a post dedicated to introducing what Eric and I mean when we say Yell to Hell.
Yell to Hell Origin Story
For an English graduate student to graduate means a lot of sitting down, a lot of reading, a lot of writing, and a lot of sitting down to talk about reading and writing.
And for a mountain boy, it was a hard lot.
So, naturally, the Yell to Hell began simply enough: a daydream. I’d find respite in learning about Idaho’s secretive wilds, far from roads, far from artificial light, far from militantly austere classroom walls, far from sitting down: the Centennials, the Lemhis, the Lost Rivers, the White Clouds, the Sawtooths . . . Mount Jefferson, Scott Peak, Diamond Peak, Mount Borah, He and She Devil . . .
Soon, as I learned more about the ranges across central Idaho, their highest peaks drew a dotted path I wanted to follow. Miles of solitude from wilderness to wilderness, peak to peak, a Once-upon-a-time this Idaho boy just couldn’t resist. His story would begin in Yellowstone. His rising action would emerge as the central Idaho mountains. His descent would be the rapids of the Snake River (the river that gave his birthplace of Idaho Falls life) in Hell’s Canyon. It felt nice, as a student of other people’s stories, to give myself this epic.
I worked slowly on the trail over the next three years. This was not a project I wanted to rush. I thought I’d do a couple of other long trails in preparation: maybe the CDT, the PCT, the Camino de Santiago. And after a few years, with plenty of experience under my belt, I’d complete and introduce the Yell to Hell to the world as a thank you to Earth for Idaho and for mountain goats.
But then the 2016 elections happened. Public Lands Enemy #1, the notorious GOP, took control of all branches of government, and our public lands began disappearing beneath our feet. On November 10th, 2016, I realized it was now or risk losing my dream trail to a billionaire’s No Trespassing sign.
Maybe, if I could popularize this trail sooner rather than later, I could help persuade some Idaho conservatives that the land has more long term value in the public’s hands than the short term paycheck of a handful of private investors.
So, during that same November, with the super-mega-beaver moon turning Utah’s salt flats into an oceanic shimmer, I asked Eric if he wanted to join me. We then collected all of the necessary maps, and with Eric doing a lion share of the detailed map work, we created the Yell to Hell for the land that created us.
Here’s a nod your way, Idaho Centennial Trail (ICT)
The Yell to Hell is not Idaho’s first long trail. At nearly 1000 miles and crossing four million acres of designated Wilderness Areas, the ICT, since its creation in 1990, is worth every step.
Starting in the Owyhee Wilderness’s canyon country on the Idaho/Nevada border, the ICT heads north through the majestic Sawtooth and Frank Church and Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness Areas, and up through northern Idaho’s lush rainforests and lake country to the Idaho/Canada border at Boundary Falls.
The Yell to Hell aims to be an east-to-west complement to this astounding south-to-north thru-hike.
Here’s a nod your way, CampSaver and the U.S. Forest Service
To plan for any long distance trail takes a lot of research and a lot of know-how. But we weren’t planning for any long distance trail; we were trying to plan for a trail of our own making, and thus, one that had no available information. So, to plan for such a project takes a lot of help from experts.
The expertise came from rangers in the U.S. Forest Service offices across central Idaho and from Josh Brundage with CampSaver. Each time we visited U.S.F.S offices, rangers patiently pointed out best camping spots and reliable water sources and fire dangers. And when it came to planning out resupplies and dependable gear, Josh hooked us up. He didn’t try to up-sale us. He didn’t sell us extraneous stuff. As an Idahoan and lifelong backpacker and climber in Idaho’s wilds, Josh helped us plan as if he were going with us.
What makes the Yell to Hell a yell to hell
Each long distance trail offers a thru-hiker a unique array of challenges to prepare for. The following are a few of the complications that the Yell to Hell presents:
- Steep: The elevation change would be dramatic even if the Yell to Hell were a classic thru-hike, where we’d walk from one place (Yellowstone) over a long distance to another (Hell’s Canyon). Since the trail trends predominantly east to west, it goes against the mostly north-to-south trending mountain ranges. So, that creates a pattern of constant ridge-line rises (some above 12,000 ft. and most above 10,000 ft.) and valley descents (below 5,000 ft. and at the bottom of Hell’s Canyon below 2000 ft.)
- Mutt Hike: But it’s not a classic thru-hike. It combines the long distance of a thru-hike with the peak-bagging of a destination hike. The Yell to Hell explores 13 mountain ranges and summits all of their highest peaks (14 in all since the jury’s still out on the He and She Devil summits). So, on peak days, there will be elevation changes of nearly 12,000 ft.
- Storm Currents: In Idaho, like in all the northern Rockies, we never want to be on a ridge-line past noon. Afternoon summer storms roll in and threaten the lives of anyone still scrambling down to safety. And Idaho’s summer thunderstorms roll in from the west and head east. But on the Yell to Hell, we head from the east to the west, trekking against the storm currents, and leaving western skies hidden behind the hills. There could be a storm brewing without our knowing it until already on the ridge-line.
- Wildfires: The best season for trekking through and peaking central Idaho’s mountains is late summer to early fall. During this same window, every year, wildfires scorch various forests in central Idaho’s mountains.
- Remote: The Yell to Hell, over 900 miles long, passes through two towns. The first is the outskirts of Island Park, a town of fewer than 300 souls. And the second is Stanley, with a soul count of 63. This adds up to two potential grocery store stops. Luckily, we had family and friends willing to meet up with us and bring us resupplies. However, for others who don’t have such an option, there are towns off of the trail that could potentially be used for mail or pre-stashed resupply depots (Spencer, Mackay, Sun Valley, Challis, and Riggins).
Yell to Hell photos of the yellow tabs, moving east to west (right to left)
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