Two Recent Hikes

Gold Pond and Little Si (November 9 or 10) or I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT DAY IT IS

The day after we walked around Gold Pond it snowed and now it’s beginning to look like it’s going to stay. We’d been keeping track of the weather forecasts and since we knew snow was coming we made a quick run up Little Si (for exercise) then dashed up to Gold Pond a little east of Snoqualmie Pass (accessed from Hyak) to capture one last golden day of sun.

Perhaps it’s just age but it seems like winters last longer than they used to and conversely, summers are shorter. Older folks like us have griped about this since probably the beginning of Time so why should we be different? We know there are fewer summers ahead of us than behind us; hence, our attempts to make the golden days last as long as possible.

We are not fast hikers but we hike at least 3-4 times a week in summer, less often in winter. While we don’t mind hiking through drizzle or rain showers we admit we don’t like hiking in rain or wind (especially rain and wind).

Each year about this time I go to battle with my “demons” – cursing the darkness and longing for light and color. As for “light” there just isn’t enough of it. As if Time wasn’t already going fast enough, must we have our daylight taken away too? Yet, who are we (puny humans!) to argue with the Forces that created all this.

Another thing that bothers us about winter are the “brown” hikes, when all color seems drained out of the landscape, the last fall leaves have turned to mush, the trees are bare, with only the occasional green brilliance of moss or lichen to break up the monotony. With the expense of driving a factor there are only so many places we can get to this time of year and frankly, some of them aren’t worth it (except for the exercise).

Hence we look upon “brown” hikes as medicine, as necessary to keep us running as fuel is to a car. But – we don’t have to like it.

Ahhh - those last golden hikes this fall were poignant; each one felt like the “end”. Yet for a while, each golden hike we thought would be the “last” one – wasn’t. Our hike to Sand Lake felt like the last golden hike; it wasn’t. Also, Kendall Katwalk, Granite Mountain, Talapus and Olallie, Crystal Lakes, even a hike from Cayuse Pass to Sheep Lake – it was an unusually good October.

Little Si and Gold Pond, though, were regrettably the last golden hikes; at least for us on the west side.
The hike to Little Si was beautiful; the sun was shining, there were still leaves on the deciduous trees though some had fallen. It was a pleasant hike; we enjoyed it but it wasn’t enough of a hike to see us through the dark days to come. Since the sun was bright and it hadn’t taken us long to hike Little Si we drove to Gold Pond, a little east of Snoqualmie Pass (accessed from the Hyak Exit No. 54).

We couldn’t have timed it better. Again, we were blessed with blue skies, sun and quite a bit of fall color. Gold Pond is our “favorite” short hike off I-90 near Snoqualmie Pass. Perhaps calling it a “hike” is a bit of a stretch but because it was such a beautiful day it was enough to make us happy.

Though the boardwalks sparkled with frost and fallen leaves were edged with ice; there was still a little warmth in the sun and the low-angle of the sunlight made for good photography. We savored every colorful leaf, every twinkle of frost. Plus, it was so quiet there - it was almost as if Gold Pond knew winter was coming; we felt like it was waiting, holding its breath, sad like us to let the summer go. Rampart Ridge had a dusting of snow and looked cold as did Chikamin Peak as viewed from Gold Pond. Yes though those views were inspirational they also made us sad. Though our fingers were cold we took our time walking around the pretty pond, stopping for photographs, savoring each moment.

I know we will have some good times this winter; we always do. Somehow, though, that doesn’t seem to make the winter go by any faster and we long for trails that are neither white with snow nor brown with leaves.

Yesterday (November 15) we hiked the Section Line Trail to West Tiger 3 and took the regular trail back down; a brown and white hike. Most of the leaves have fallen from the deciduous trees and are lying on the trail – near the summit snow had already fallen and it was cold enough that we didn’t linger.

Our next hike? To be determined.

Umtanum Creek, October 22, 2009

Umtanum Creek, October 22, 2009

We were so intrigued with the Umtanum Falls Creek trail last week we went back to Ellensburg, this time to hike the Umtanum Creek trail from Highway 821 (Yakima Canyon Road). The weather was perfect for hiking, a golden October day with mostly blue skies and comfortable temperatures.

The hike starts off by crossing the Yakima River on a suspension bridge – though the bridge sways and creaks, it is perfectly safe. Then you can go over or under the railroad tracks to a network of trails that are not signed.

If you are unfamiliar with the area the trails (left) lead to various points on Umtanum Ridge; the Umtanum Creek trail goes (moreorless) straight. These are not your typical hiking trails – these are trails designed to roam and wander. As far as we are concerned “somewhere” is destination enough.

The Umtanum Creek trail heads into the canyon, following the creek, at times veering away. The first mile or so can be a little confusing; the trail changes each season depending on what the beavers are up to and social trails run hither and yon. Aim yourself toward the canyon and follow the “best” trail.

It used to be that you could find the remains of an old homestead at about a mile; but now there is little left but posts and a few apple trees gone wild. Imagination comes into play in such a setting; where would you put a homestead if such a thing were possible? How sweet it would be to live in a cabin and fall asleep to the chorus of frogs and wake to meadowlarks. Idyllic as this sounds, it would take a lot of hard work to set up a homestead and keep it going. In such an isolated spot you’d learn to read the weather and the land, you’d learn how to fix things when they broke down. Though these lowlands are lovely now in their golden October attire, in the spring it is tick-laden and you need to be on the alert for rattlesnakes.

We stopped at the remains of another orchard; an ideal spot for lunch. Here was a stumpy, lichen-encrusted apple tree laden with fruit; some apples had fallen to the ground, some we picked and ate on the spot.

Hunters we met said we might spot sheep on the canyon walls but I never seem to have much luck when it comes to spotting wildlife. Therefore when Jim spotted sheep I was delighted to actually see them; two of them sitting on a rocky shelf a hundred feet or so above us. As for wildlife photography, I will never put Art Wolfe out of business but I did get some decent images; so did Maxine and Silverback.

The bighorn sheep seemed aware of our presence but were not alarmed at our being there. We waited and watched; soon four rams headed purposefully toward the single ram and the doe. Not knowing much about the life cycle of bighorn sheep, we wondered if it was rutting season yet and would there be a fight for the doe?

Then, somewhat humorously, the rams joined forces and bounded off together, away from the doe. They reminded me of a bunch of gossiping teenage boys that weren’t that comfortable around girls. No girls allowed!!

We resumed hiking through mostly open terrain but the canyon began to gradually close in; at times the trail narrowed through brushy thickets and along the edge of beaver dams. At one point the trail contoured a talus slope; here, someone had built an elaborate walkway of steppingstones, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Who?

A few hardy Ponderosa pines graced the rocky slopes, alluring trails led to draws and rocky outcroppings that called out for further exploration. Always bound by the tyranny of Time we knew the hours were moving faster than our feet; we’d dawdled too long in the autumn glory of the canyon.

When we reached a thicket of tough, interlocking vegetation we knew it was time to turn around. Jim estimated we were still a couple miles from Durr Road so that would have to wait for another day.

On our way out an amazing thing happened: we had only seen a few people on the trail, the hunting party, a woman and her dog and a young local who had hiked all the way around the rim. So I was amazed when the brush parted and a familiar red jacket appeared; it was a local Mountaineer I have known for 30 years. It’s surprising how often this kind of encounter occurs when one hikes on a regular basis.

Back where the trail goes under/over the railroad tracks we met the young hunter again. He’d left his truck a few miles from the trailhead on Canyon Road so we gave him a ride back to his truck.

Stats: About 6 miles round trip, no significant elevation gain.

Hardy souls with rugged rigs can leave a car at Durr Road where the road crosses Umtanum Creek but since we have not done so, I cannot attest to what kind of rig you’d need to tackle the purportedly rough road. You’d need two cars for a one-way hike with a car shuttle.

As for hiking out to the Umtanum Creek Falls. trailhead on Umtanum Road, that would add up to about a 10-11 mile hike one-way. Perhaps a long summer day with a car shuttle; perhaps someday.

Granite Mountain, October 4, 2009

Granite Mountain, October 4, 2009


Even with an early start this popular trailhead was so full I had to park along the frontage road. Well, I can’t blame anyone for wanting to get high (no pun intended) on what could be one of the last warm autumn days of the year.

Usually I can cope with crowds on popular trails but there were so many hikers on the trail today that I felt annoyed (mostly at myself for being there in the first place). At times it was almost like being in a queue at the bank and the only chance for any kind of solitude was to go off trail in the lower basin.

I made good time (for me) to the marker for the Alpine Lakes Wilderness. Then I began to slow down as the scenery began to open up and the fall color began. I’m not sure how to gauge this years’ fall color in comparison to other years but some of the vegetation at lower elevations seemed more dead than colorful. The higher I went, the better the color, especially the reds.

The conditions were perfect for hiking this steep, rocky trail – cool, crisp and sunny. No one could complain about the weather. By the time I got to the lower basin with the tarns I was in need of a rest and solitude so I found a nice boulder off trail and hung out there for a while before getting back in line to reach the summit.

There’s a little bit of snow in the upper basin and just before the lookout; if there’s a hard freeze this could complicate the last stretch. Yesterday, the sun was warm enough that it was just snow, not ice. The lookout is closed for the year.

There was a large group of hikers gathered under the lookout, hikers here and there, just about everywhere on the summit rocks and a little below. After sitting for a while and eating lunch I “caught” the “good cheer” all around me. Everyone seemed happy – even those who chose to sit alone on a rock and gaze into the distance.

The walk back down was uneventful though I felt a little sadness at leaving Granite Mountain, perhaps for the last time this season. It’s not an easy place to get to at my age (for some, not at any age) and once I’m there, I find it hard to leave.

Getting to the trailhead: Go east on I-90 from Seattle to Exit 47, turn left over the freeway, left again into the Granite Mountain/Pratt Lake parking lot. Pray for a parking spot.

Stats: 8 miles round trip – 3,800 feet gain (according to “100 Hikes in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness”. I didn’t bring the GPS today.