Josh standing at the edge of Death Canyon near Pass Lake
“So wait, you’re telling me that the only things on this sandwich are breaded chicken and pickles?” I asked my nephew Josh as we worked our way down the South Fork of Cascade Canyon. We were on our third day of a backpacking trip in the Tetons and I had made the mistake of mentioning to Josh that I had forgotten to bring a chunk of Romano cheese. I was missing the savory salty addition to lunches. With that statement, the dam burst. Josh started waxing on about Popeye’s Chicken Sandwich. He was savoring bites he was missing. I am a vegetarian, and I’ve never eaten at a Popeye’s and so I started asking for details; I wanted to know what made this sandwich stand out to Josh’s palate.
“That’s all that’s on the sandwich.”
“No mayo?”
“I don’t let them put any mayo on it.”
“So, where does the flavor come from? Is it the breading?”
“I don’t know, I just know that it’s delicious.”
“Is it chicken breast, or compote?”
“It’s compote.”
“I bet the flavor comes from the compote! What do you think is in there?”
“Don’t know; not sure I want to know.”
“It’s got to have fat. That’s a binding agent, as is sugar. Probably some microplastics in there too.”
“Definitely. Got to have your daily requirement of microplastics.”
You wouldn’t think it possible, but this conversation continued all the way down the South Fork. I learned that the Popeye’s sandwich dominated chicken sandwiches put out by its competitors: Chick-fil-a is not as good, Burger King and Wendy’s offerings were soggy or dry. Josh didn’t care about the bun, or the pickles. It was something in the breading and the compote that brought on his cravings.
“Maybe crack,” he offered, but then said “No, that ingredient would be too expensive.” But then thought a bit more. “Maybe just a dusting of crack,” he said as he rubbed his thumb over his fingers of his left hand and laughed.
The miles were starting to wear on us, and this kept our minds occupied. That morning, we had started just south of Death Canyon Shelf at Pass Lake. We would walk 15.8 miles that day, 40.6 for our three days thus far, before we set up camp on the North Fork of Cascade Canyon that evening.
This was my third backpacking trip with Josh, and my third loop around the Tetons on the Valley/Crest Trail. Josh and my first two trips together were overnights in the Hyalite Range south of Bozeman, one each in the summers of 2022 and 2023. The 2022 trip became eventful when I lost Josh deep in Hyalite Canyon (see button below with link to “Finding Josh”); Josh showed his mettle the next year when he swam around in freezing cold Emerald Lake with snow lining the shore. I waded in to my knees all while making baby dinosaur noises. Josh turned 18 this summer, and was up for something longer and more challenging. I had chosen the Tetons as the venue because Josh is a social young man and I thought he would enjoy the opportunity to interact with the many other hikers and trail runners we were sure to see on the trail. I had solo hiked the same loop in Summer 2023, and had many pleasant interactions; I expected Josh to have a similar experience and I was not disappointed (see button below with link to “The Individuation of Adventure on the Teton Crest”).
I set the menu on all of these trips. I ate virtually the same items on all my backpacking trips. In selecting menu items I think about maximizing energy dense calories while minimizing weight. Flavor, that’s just something that happens if you’re lucky. When we were crossing Alaska Basin earlier that day, Josh mentioned that he had a new business idea; he wanted to pay runners bring sandwiches into the backcountry. I laughed it off. I had no idea how desperate he was for something other than the regiment of oatmeal and energy bars that dominated our menu.
The topic of ‘The Sandwich’ reemerged shortly before we crashed that evening. Josh said he would offer me a bite of his sandwich the next time I showed up in central New Jersey where he lives. I let the topic sit that night, figuring that we needed something to get us up the climb to Paintbrush Divide the next morning.
We took our first break at Lake Solitude that morning. Once we started climbing to the divide and had settled into a pace, I broached the topic. “Josh, here’s my thinking. Next time I’m in New Jersey, you need to go to Popeye’s, buy a single sandwich, bring it back to your house, and hand it to me. I get to choose the size of the bite.”
“I’ll just buy a second sandwich.”
“No, there can only be one sandwich, and you need to sit at the table with your hands folded in front of you, and a beatific grin on your face as you watch me take my bites.”
“Bites, who said bites?”
“Bite, in this context, just means eat as much as you want. I get to savor each bite for as long as I want while you sit there.”
“Sure, as long as I have a second sandwich in the car.”
“There can’t be a second sandwich. You have to be the bigger man. You have to trust that I will share the one sandwich with you. And if I don’t, you have to be satisfied watching me enjoy the sandwich.”
This went back and forth as we climbed and we tried to negotiate acceptable terms. Josh variously accepted the terms, when he was still sure that he could hide a second sandwich, and threatened my demise when I made it clear that hiding a sandwich was not an option. Before you knew it, we had reached the divide. We savored energy bars on the divide, at least I did. I think I saw Josh drop to his knees and pray for divine intervention, “Please god, take this bar from me,” or something along those lines. We descended to Holly Lake where we finished off the last of our nuts and dried fruit. I made sounds to make it seem like these foods were scrumptious; I was trying to trigger Josh to get his palate as excited about dried fruit and nuts as it was about ‘The Sandwich.’
I can’t say it worked, but the food topic switched from ‘The Sandwich’ to pizza on the hike
down Paintbrush Canyon and around the west sides of String and Jenny Lakes. We were heading to back to Bozeman once we reached Lupine Meadows, where the car was parked, with a planned stop at Colter Bay along the way. The pizza there isn’t widely praised, but it wasn’t an energy bar, oatmeal or a dehydrated meal. It was enough to keep us engaged as we finished up the 16.2 miles that day.
That ended my third loop around the Tetons. Each of these trips on the Teton Valley/Crest Trail Loop followed the same route, and each trip took place in late August or early September. In that sense, all the trips were the same, but all the trips were actually quite different. The route didn’t define the trips. It was the people I was with, the folks we met along the way, and meeting the challenges of mountain weather. Now let’s go eat some pizza!
Josh and me
Here's the link to "Finding Josh:"
Here's the link to "The Individuation of Adventure...:"
Joshua is lucky to have an uncle like you...! Thanks for taking him on this epic adventure!
Loved this one, Chuck! You and Josh really bonded during this trip! ❤️