Three days in the Sawtooth Mountains
- Michael Kennedy
- Aug 20
- 4 min read
A full moon fell on the mountains, the sun rose over the meadow and for a moment there was complete cosmic balance. This was my introduction to the Great Sawtooth Mountain Range and the Salmon River, also known as the River of No Return. I was there for my daughter's wedding, the perfect backdrop for such a happy occasion.
I walked across the meadow toward the mountains. With each step they were drawing me in. But as I approached the large wood fence and “no trespassing” signs at the end of this two mile dirt path, these jagged, seductive mountains seemed just as far away as they looked when I started my hike. So, I chased the moon instead.
I attempted to take a photo of the moon as it fell between the mountain peaks. To get the shot I had to drive south on 75. Every time I got out of the car, the moon got closer to the mountains, but it was just a bit right of center. I jumped back in the car and drove further down the road for a better perspective. I wanted to see the moon rest in the center of the saddle.
My effort paid off. It was 7:02am on Sunday morning, August 10th, when the moon rested in the center of the saddle, for no more than a split second. Then disappeared.
In a sense, I felt like Sisyphus, in that I was trying to snap a photo of this falling ball in the sky. Every time I got out of my car to take the photo, the moon shifted to the right - off center. I ran south through the pasture at first to get a better angle, tripping on rocks and high grass, but the moon was falling too fast. I jumped back in the car and drove like a lunatic south for a better angle. I pulled over to the edge of 75, hopped out, leapt over the wood fence, ran past the electrical wires above, and tried yet again to get the shot.
The moon was mocking me.
Sisyphus, condemned by the gods to eternally roll a boulder up a hill only to have it roll back down, is a metaphor for the human struggle against the absurd. Albert Camus argued that while life’s challenges may be futile, like Sisyphus’s task, (and mine for that matter) there’s hope.
Instead of fading away in despair or seeking salvation in religion, Camus suggested we should rebel against the absurd by fully experiencing life and embracing its seemingly meaninglessness.
The moon rolled down the Sawtooth Mountains and somewhere in the trees below Sisyphus was resting. And so was I. Huffing and puffing in the magical morning glow of Stanley, Idaho.
“O my soul, do not aspire to immortal life, but exhaust the limits of the possible."
~ Pindar, Pythian iii (excerpt from The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays,
by Albert Camus)
The Hemingway Connection
I was surprised to learn Ernest Hemingway was inspired by these same mountains. In fact he's buried about 60 miles south of Stanley in a town called Ketchum.
Looking across at Idaho’s Sawtooth Mountains and the headwaters of the Salmon River from Galena Summit, Hemingway once said to a hunting companion, “You’d have to come from a test tube and think like a machine to not engrave all of this in your head so that you never lose it.” ~ Lloyd Arnold’s Hemingway: High on the Wild.
Where are da planes? Da planes?
I visited Stanley Airport each day, hoping to get a photo of a plane taking off or landing with the backdrop of the Sawtooth Mountains. Nada, day 1. Nada, day two. And finally, my third and last full day in Stanley, I heard the familiar sound of a distant piston engine. It was a small bush plane with fat tires designed for rugged, off-airport surfaces. The perfect little plane for this part of the world.
The Stanley Airport (2U7) sits at an elevation of 6,403 ft. The runway is 4,300 ft long, 150 ft wide, but only the first 1,600 ft on the north end is paved. The balance is grass & dirt. It looks like a bike path up close.
Ever see a kid in a candy store? If you could only see the big kid behind this camera. Not only did the small plane with the fat tires come in for a landing, but about a dozen more planes arrived behind him in this sleepy, quiet corner of the world.
Sawtooth Flying Service is a family-owned company of pilots and friends who love aviation and Idaho’s backcountry. They just happened to fly into Stanley Airport to pick up a bus load of fishermen for the mountain area while I was there.
“The eternal mystery of the world is its comprehensibility.
The fact that it is comprehensible is a miracle.”
~ Albert Einstein, 1936
Someone asked me why it's so important for me to take photos of the moon... of the mountains... of the planes and the lake.
"Who really cares?" they asked.
"I do," I replied.
Why? I'm not exactly sure. I suppose I enjoy embracing the absurd and getting the full experience along the way.
***
I’m Michael Kennedy, a resident of Olympic Valley, CA (in photo above). I’m a visual storyteller and I love exploring nature and getting lost along the way. I know we live in a world that demands our attention. I just want to say thank you for your attention. If you enjoyed this post, please share with a friend. For more photos and stories visit www.BlueWolfGallery.com.
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