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Why are there so many falls named Ouzel? Who was this famous Ouzel? Well you won’t get those answers here, but I did hike to see Ouzel Falls (Gros Ventre version) with my 8 year-old daughter, and we explored Chateau Lake (a first for me) and Brewster Lake, too. Status: Not yet proofread. Let me know if you want to make $10. Maybe you can give it a once-over. My regular proofreader abandoned me out of “despair and a bit of loathing.”

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➻ Quick Facts

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⤷Introduction

I had been considering the Simpson Lake area again, as there were some places I still hadn’t touched. The day of my trip, I realized that instead of going to Simpson Lake, I could actually take my daughter and see Ouzel Falls, go over a pass, and show her Brewster Lake. My mom had wanted to see that lake for a while, so I rang her up to see if she could make an impromptu trip. She could, so she packed faster than a Peruvian can gank a guinea and headed up. We were leaving from Jackson, and she from Rock Springs, so we ended up meeting at 40 Rod Road and then drove my Jeep all the way to Kinky Creek trailhead. The road’s a “lot of fun.” (That’s a damnable lie.)

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⤑Day 1: Ouzel Falls and Thunderstorms

We didn’t get on the trail until after just after 4:00 p.m., and the beautiful, clear skies became sullen with an overcast of cumulus clouds. It looked like there’d be some rain coming up. We took the trail down (always sad, knowing that the last part of the hike will be uphill) to the creek crossing, where we used some downed trees to scuttle across. Yue liked that part. Then it started to rain; I avoided putting on my frog togg until it was just too much. Large, fat drops descended like a wife who’s thrown in the towel on a pint of Jeni’s Blackout Chocolate Cake ice cream, or like Nancy Pelosi on that or expensive spirits.

Getting started on the way down to Darwin Ranch area.

1.5 miles into the hike we had to tackle the next stream crossing, which happens to be the rather gorgeous Gros Ventre river as it spills out of the mountains and onto the meandering flats by Darwin Ranch.   Yue Little announced that she had forgotten to pack her sandals, so I ended up just carrying her across. From there we crossed another little segment of creek, noting that there were no fish at all, and then went up into the woods. It wasn’t bad, and over the next 1.5 miles we remained in the woods, the rain went away, and we gained 400 feet, but then had to go back down 200, popping out near trail 4098A, which heads up to Brewster’s trail. I’d seen the cutoff trail marked during my hike with beautiful, beneficent, bellicose Beatriz, but down at this point the trail was vague at best. Right before popping out onto these flats, we’d seen a bypass trail for those not interested in Ouzel Falls, and we were very glad to not be on it, as it started raining horses and cows. (This indicates the relative size of the drops as compared to cats and dogs.)

Gros Ventre River crossing and then the cutoff area toward Lunch Lake.

We end up staying in the trees for a while waiting for the rain to go away. It didn’t quite go all the way away but at least it mitigated some of itself (and a Global 5000 went over seemingly low, indicating that runway 01 was in use at KJAC), so we walked up and viewed Ouzel Falls, which is an awesome water slide, much like the one found below Slide Lake in the Winds. At that point, as we left the trail, Yue Little (YL) had a slip on the mud and and fell and busted her butt. This set her into a foul mood from which she didn’t really recover for quite some time. She was cranky and distraught and began to cry, saying that she was missing her mom, etc.

Below and above Ouzel Falls.

We climbed up along Ouzel Falls looking for a place to camp sooner rather than later. I had the girls wait and then ran ahead, looking down by the river for a good place; it seemed via the contours that I could. In fact I was right, and by leaving my party and following an animal trail down to the riverside, I found an old fire ring that had a spot for just one tent, then a place that also had a spot for 2 tents!

I went back up to fetch my family and took them down to the two spotter. Getting the stuff set up was a pain. It started hailing huge chunks of hail. I got YL inside during the lightning storm, mostly just to avoid the rain; the hail was intermittent. I had let my mom bring my 1 person Big Agnes Copper Spur, and for whatever reason, she freaked out, tried to set it up backward, said it was too tight—I told her to stop—didn’t listen to me, and just shoved the poles mightily and snapped them. I used to field a repair splint and kind of fixed it but that was unfortunate and quite perturbed me. She immediately started fussing that she should never have brought my tent, forgetting that the last time we had a massive storm (Grave Lake), I had to set hers up for her in the hail and rain. She is given to freaking out, though she claims she isn’t. She has never offered an illicit fruit to a man, though.

It was far too cool and wet to bother with dinner for me, but I did make YL some food. In the horrid rain, I had to spend more time getting water, too. Finally I got in the tent, already past dark, and boy even though it said that it wasn’t supposed to rain, it rained all night, and torrentially.

Our mileage has been very low; we only made approximately 3.5 mi that day.

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⤑Day 2: Chateau Lake and a Grumbine

YL said she didn’t get cold at all overnight, but she did end up sleeping on my feet for part of it, and waking me up routinely. She had some pretty strange comments about it during the night when I told her to get off my feet and back on her pad. For example,  “Where should I be?” She also said that she can’t help what she does when she is asleep.

Even though we wanted to get an early start the next day, that didn’t work out because it just would not stop raining. When it finally did, it took forever to get everything dried. I’ve never experienced such rains before.  We weren’t on the trail until 12:30, and from there we just made our way along slowly. The clouds went away and it became hot and dry.  We tried fishing in one spot, but I didn’t see any fish.  The trail was mostly nondescript and boring, as well as pretty much flat, with intermittent pitches. Eventually Black Peak does come into view and that’s nice, but it reminds me of some mediocre areas of Montana, and doesn’t have the huge feel of the Winds. 

Camping area. Drying off.

At Upper Falls near Bear Cabin Creek, you YL was starting to get grumpy again. The little climb up to the falls area was pretty easy, and I considered crossing the river to the unmaintained use trails, but that didn’t work out because the river was just too deep, and the brush was thicker than a woman’s leg hair after 3 months on the trail. At one point YL fell pretty bad (due to how she was yanking her feet about; it’s always her attitude that gets her) and looked like she could have broken her ankle. I checked her out and she was fine, but she cried a bunch more. We talked to her about having resilience and a joyful heart. I also said that we could call her Grumbine (grumbler+combine, but really after Michael Grumbine) or Ouzel. She associated Ouzel with ooze and rather disliked both options.

Little Grizzly Basin and Upper Falls.

Eventually we made our way up to the hunting cabins (or I should say tents) and crossed the creek there (I kept my shoes on and carried YL across), heading toward Chateau Lake. YL’s speed had been less than a mile per hour, so we really couldn’t reach Brewster. Bah! The goal had been to go there and hang out for a day.  At that point we had to make the decision to actually make a wild sprint, and I decided that we wouldn’t. I didn’t want to end up in Grizzly Basin, possibly devoid of water but abundantly supplied with its namesake bears, which I refer to as oso malicioso. We wouldn’t make it to Brewster until 7:30 at best, and more likely at 8:30 or 9, so Chateau it would be. 

Thankfully we saw some fish randomly in a tiny little stream. It was strange to suddenly find fish when there had been none above or below Ouzel Falls; the Upper Falls must be the dividing line. That sealed the deal; YL found the area to be quite pretty and suddenly it was “the best day ever.” The emotional whiplash that child must experience…

There’s a lake above Chateau Lake that I didn’t explore, but I did check all around Chateau itself. The area is…well, bizarre hydromorphically. Check it out for yourself and tell me it’s not. Ponds sit in random spots, in strange shapes, seeming to be their own ecosystems, and the area is, well, kind of lumpen.  

There were fish in the lake but we didn’t catch any. As I set up the tent and got food ready, YL and mom  went down to the odd place in the creek to fish. They didn’t manage to catch the fish as YL made herself abundantly visible. She did catch a frog, so that made her happy enough, which was a blessing. I want her to love the outdoors like I do!

Our camp at Chateau Lake. YL thought it was gorgeous.

For dinner that night I chose my super weighty tacos meal (two meals I combine into one with my own BYoBurritoShell) and also hatch green chili mac and cheese, which was boring as usual. Yue Little had Creamy Tuscan Chicken with penne pasta by Pinnacle Foods, which she LOVED. She’d better love it, because it’s not cheap!

That night we changed out the sleeping pad so that my mom could have the Therma-Reset, which has a very very high r-value, and YL her Big Agnes Q-Core SLX insulated. Everyone was pretty happy with the arrangement. It did freeze overnight though, but we all stayed warm. 

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⤑Day 3: Tragedy and: Over the Pass to Brewster Lake

Mom got up before YL and I were out and about and made a fire. I got up relatively soon thereafter, but not in time, because my mother’s string of bizarre decisions continued. She was kind enough to find my socks, take them, and put them right beside the fire on the hot stones put there by outfitters before us. One of my beloved Creepers wool socks cooked through completely, utterly destroying it as if it had been condemned to hell by God Himself, and the other flew into the fire. 

Mom complained that it shouldn’t have happened to socks (I mean flying in the fire certainly can be helped by not placing them 2 inches from a fire) and that they must be low quality socks, which I have to be honest, infuriated me. Lesson not learned by her, she then cooked alive one of YL’s socks when I wasn’t looking! We didn’t have extras. We discussed whether or not we should just head back at this point, as mom was creating disasters everywhere she went. In the end we decided that we would press on.

I made YL a breakfast skillet and the ATL 757 flight went overhead. We got on the road later than planned, and would have to climb during the heat, but such is the nature of having no socks. The trail meandered out between two of the lakes and then started the uphill grind. Believe it or not, the uphill didn’t feel all that bad. Mom and I discussed some religious topics during the climb, shaded by tall trees. Effectively, though it looks bad, this is a moderate incline which then becomes relatively flat at Grizzly Basin.

Uphill to Grizzly Basin.

About 600 walking feet before the flatter area, YL started  complaining that she wanted a break. I told her to wait until we got to the flat, which she actually did. We collected plenty of strawberries along the way. YL preferred the flat climb thereafter and we made relatively good time. The worst part about that section of trip is that it does leave the tree cover, which means that you’re hiking out in the baking sun. After some time walking along through the open fields, we encountered running water, shockingly enough. This was completely unexpected.

Then we went right back into the trees and began another climb. Before the last section of climb outside of the tree cover, we stopped and took a break at YL’s request. Thankfully the last section of uphill slog was relatively short. We finished the +1500′, 2.6-mile section to the pass at 12:51, having done it in 3 hours to the minute. Not bad for sockless people, and one a little person. 

Grizzly Basin, Wyoming.

At the top YL stopped and collected a rock for her mom, plus jumped for joy at being done going uphill. We began the downhill section, losing more elevation than I would have liked. Some of it was a little bit gravelly, causing my foot to go out from under me once, and man it would have been a long tumble if I’d fallen. Best to take that section slow; you’ll know it when you see it.

Grizzly Basin Pass.

Finally, with YL complaining about “when are we going to be there,” we began one final climb up towards the overlook above Brewster Lake. As we walked uphill we came across a nice running stream, and there YL and my mother dunked their hats and wetted their heads to cope with the heat. I personally chose not to, and, after thinking about whether or not we should get water, I said ” no.” Rather we continued the last little bit of uphill (from the pass it’s down 400, then back up 200) and then went straight down towards the western terminus of Brewster Lake. This was relatively easy, though I did have to help YL down one embankment. Both my mom and YL loved Brewster Lake and thought it was utterly gorgeous. We ended up camping the same spot that I had found Beatriz’s friends camping back in 2019. There are spots west of there to camp, if you want, and also some small spots on the SW of the lake, but I think where we camped is probably best. Before the climb toward Darwin Peak/Big Balls of Cowtown pass, there is an outfitter camp, but it smelled a little bit horsey.

A cool rock and Brewster Lake.

We began the process of setting up and getting water, which didn’t take too long. I had messaged my wife from my SATCOM about our situation and she thought we should exit early. Fortunately, I didn’t get the message until I turned the SATCOM back on again in the evening—Wendle had told her that it was going to storm, too.

Anyway we got to set up and mom realized that she’d lost the water container’s lid, continuing her streak of bad luck. It took a while to find it. We made dinner (lasagna and chicken and rice for me, and chicken and dumplings for YL) and found that my mom had taken our gummies and placed them in her pouch on the outside, in the sun, turning them into a liquefied goop. My, bless her heart! After eating, I found myself to be quite tired.

As we were doing the setup of the bed spreads, a group of horse packers came walking up the trail asking us if we had been screaming for help, or if we knew anyone who needed help. One of them had a beer, and the other had a sidearm, plus there were a couple kids, and it looked like a wife. They were super nice and it turned out they were from Pinedale—not the sort that would have ratted you out like some in Teton County in 2021. We hadn’t heard anyone screaming for help, but we had heard someone yelling earlier. Maybe it was them? Didn’t really know. Anyway, they were quite affable and left after chatting for a little bit.

A storm blew in, as predicted by Wendle, and it started to sprinkle rain. We went to our tents and enjoyed the sound of the rain. YL mostly played on her phone, but I don’t think I’d ever been so tired before. It was around 6:00 p.m. and for the first time in a very long time I actually took a nap. Well, by “took took a nap,” I mean I laid down and YL asked for about the first 30 minutes, “Dad are you sleeping? Dad, why do you sleep with one eye open? Dad, it is not time to sleep!” Finally she let me actually sleep so I probably nap between 60 minutes to maybe 90 minutes. It felt glorious.

When I woke up it was dark out, but I noticed that there were no raindrops left on the rain cover. It must have been windy after I fell asleep. I got out of the tent and there was a beautiful sunset, so I called the two girls out of the tents and they also enjoyed it. YL little took many pictures on her phone. Then it was bedtime, and after saying a prayer, we fell asleep to temperatures which were delightfully warm. 

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⤑Day 4: Out to Kinky Creek Trailhead

Day four would actually be our most mileage, but a rather easy day for the most part as it was an exit day. We had a pretty lazy start to the day, with Mom getting her stuff all packed far before YL even woke up. YL enjoyed her last meal of scrambled eggs and, as is her want, kept trying to sit in the ten. I took it down, then she sat on the tent rather than  getting ready. My mom kept trying to convince me to use one of her (mom’s) socks, but I told her that I would suffer until it was bad, then I’d take her up on the offer, that way hopefully neither of us would get blisters.

My garbage Altra Olympus 5 shoes had revealed an interior blow out on the left shoe towards the heel, at the base. I hate this brand so bad, and no one hates me more than all the people who hate that I hate them! Altra had said that I didn’t know how to lace my shoes the last time that I asked for their 30-day, no-questions-asked, money-back guarantee. In fact they had fought the  guarantee, and I sent them pictures of not just the shoes that had self-destructed, but also of all of my other shoes that were still in existence, one pair going all the way back to 2016 and having hundreds of miles on it, all of which had no such problems.

Anyway, this time the failure was in a different spot, so…well, make of that what you will. Their shoes really don’t have any quality. By the time we left camp it was quite hot and the horse packers had already left as well. I probably shouldn’t go into too much detail about the trail out because it’s all back in the 2019 report and nothing has changed. All of the blowdown from the 2020 storm for the most part had been cleared. In fact during the entire journey, there’s only maybe one or two sections where we had to vacate the trail due to downed trees.

In any case we walked along the edge of Brewster Lake and then began the climb up and over the lip that holds the lake in, and then down, down, down, down, down, down, down, down, down, down toward lunch late. The distance between Lunch Lake and Brewster really isn’t much (3 miles, -900, +350′), but man it always seems to take forever. I really can’t understand it. The trail isn’t terrible, but is certainly not beautiful. Along the way I kept referring to various ponds as being Lunch Lake, just to see if my family would find it funny. They didn’t. Also along the way, the horse packers’ hound dog with his radio collar on kept appearing. He wasn’t as nice as the previous day and seemed a little skittish. We would end up seeing him multiple times along the trail, but never the horse packers. For the most part when it did pop back out of the forest, it would look at us but respect our distance. I don’t know if it ever got back to its owners though, because, spoiler alert, by the time we got out, their trailer was gone, and the last time that we had seen the dog was about 2.65 mi from the trailhead, behind us, and heading back toward Lunch Lake. 

I used some large leaves to prevent blisters from forming as we went down. When we passed Lunch Lake, Mom was surprised to find that it didn’t have any fish in it. She thought it looked pretty. The colors are nice. 
Lunch Lake.

 After lunch Lake the trail goes down, and then up, and down, and then flat, up, and down, flat, up, and down, flat, up, and down. Very tedious walking. A great portion of the trail is along the grassy ridgeline with no water but plenty of sun.  YL little talked to my mom while walking for at least 4 hours straight this day; it was remarkable and I didn’t understand it. She was having quite a lot of fun, and remarked that she didn’t need to listen to music as she had the day before during the climb over the pass, because talking distracted her from what was going on! Truly a woman!  (#Misogynynalert)

Guess where that trail goes.

About 1 mi from the river crossing she started to cry, complaining that her feet hurt. I showed her some various methods and ways to walk that can reduce the pain, and offered to carry her pack. She steadfastly ignored any suggestions and refused all help. 

Eventually we made it to the creek crossing where I just chose to walk straight through, because with only about .82 miles left. I also carried YL over. She was quite happy then, having forgotten all about her foot pain, instead choosing to collect at least 36 different rocks and have me skip them. This greatly amused her. She also said, “Hey, we’ve got to collect flowers on the way home so that we can press them and make bookmarks.”

We left the creek and headed across the field, and then up the mountain. I did collect flowers on the way up, and got a little bit ahead of my family, but I did do this on purpose. That way by the time that they arrived at the Jeep, I was able to film them exiting the forest and already had the air conditioner running and cold drinks ready for them. We finished the day right after 4:00 p.m., basically the same time that we had started the hike on the 15th. Unlike when we arrived, the there was only one vehicle instead of four.

A hot time at the trailhead.

As we drove out of the area, we saw a huge plume of smoke behind us. Our fire had been dead out, but man it makes you worry. It ended up being caused by the storm, and was called the Fish Creek Fire.

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➤Conclusion and Rating

This is my scrapbook, so I write it for my own memories and judge hikes accordingly. This hike was a real test of character, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world, which is filled with scum OnlyFans subscribers and those they entice into debasement, so that’s not saying much. However, even for others, I’d say this is a great little hike–just don’t drag it out over 4 days. Do a day to Chateau, a day to Brewster, hang out a day to hike the peaks, and then go out.

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•  My scientific rating system. Brewster makes this a lover.
• Beauty. You won’t get staggering vistas like the Winds, but you’ll be in love.
• Camping spots. Everywhere.
• Crowds. Minimal. Saw one family.
• Difficulty. 8 y/o can do it.
• Fishing. Some. (Not for angling experts.)
• History. I’m curious about the camps.
• Over/Under Bracket: Over: Kinky Creek to Shoal Creek Trailhead. Under: Simpson Lake, as the road in kills vehicles and it’s not as scenic.

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