Grand Sawtooth Loop - Out Again with Friends and Mentors

This summer, I had the chance to take on one of the biggest backpacking trips I’ve ever done: the Grand Sawtooth Loop in Idaho. Over 70 miles of rugged trails, alpine passes, and countless lakes, all stitched together into one long adventure.

From the very first steps, I could tell the Sawtooths were different from the Sierra Nevada, where I usually hike. The peaks here are sharper, almost jagged, like someone carved them out with a knife. The valleys feel wild and remote, and even though we passed other hikers, most of the time it felt like the mountains belonged only to us.

The days were long. We’d hike for miles beneath the summer sun, climbing switchbacks, weaving through forests, and crossing meadows buzzing with insects. The climbs were tough, but every time we crested a pass, the reward was unreal: lakes tucked high into cirques, ridgelines stretching forever, and views that made the weight of my pack disappear for a few minutes.

What struck me most about the Sawtooths was how many lakes there were. It seemed like every turn in the trail revealed another one, sometimes glassy and still, sometimes whipped by the wind, always cold enough to make me gasp when I dipped my hands in. Camping beside them became a rhythm: setting up our tents on granite slabs, cooking dinner as the sun dropped behind jagged peaks, and watching the light fade across the water.

There were challenges, of course. The heat during the day could be exhausting, and I felt the miles in my legs by the time we reached camp each night. But being out there with my dad and friends, I felt strong.

Backpacking isn’t just about covering distance or checking off miles, it’s about learning to live in the rhythm of the trail. Waking up with the sun, walking until your body says stop, and finding joy in the simplest things: a breeze on a climb, a stream to soak your feet in, relaxing with friends after a long day.

By the time we closed the loop and returned to the trailhead, I felt a mix of exhaustion and accomplishment. Seventy miles is no small trip, but what stays with me most isn’t the number, it’s the memories of the mountains, the lakes, and the people I shared them with.

The Grand Sawtooth Loop was both beautiful and humbling, and I know it’s one of those trips that will stick with me for a long time.