Rattlesnake Mountain Trail, February 2012

Though we enjoy the hike to Rattlesnake Ledge from Rattlesnake Lake we enjoy more solitude on the Rattlesnake Mountain Trail. Getting to this trailhead is a shorter drive – a plus with rising gas prices. Let the feet do the work rather than wheels when possible. If you’ve never hiked this end of the Rattlesnake Mountain trail take a side trip to Snoqualmie Point before you hit the trail; the views are worth the few minutes it takes to drive up there. It’s also a lovely setting for an after-hike picnic or sunset photos.

Though this is now a well-established trail and is featured in hiking guidebooks and the media hikers were hiking a network of old roads and boot paths to Rattlesnake Lake long before the trail was constructed. Despite it being an official trail with publicity we have yet to encounter other hikers once we’ve hiked past Stan’s Overlook. Stan’s overlook is about 2.5 miles from the trailhead and a natural turnaround for hikers wanting an easy hike with views of North Bend, Mount Si and Teneriffe.

Once you leave the trailhead the trail climbs at a moderate grade through second- and third-growth forest with clues that this was once majestic forest. You’ll notice a gigantic, hollowed-out stump (left) as you climb, an ideal spot for kids playing hide’ n’ seek. Note the size of the gigantic roots that branch out, still clutching the earth with bare knuckles. In the fall this forested stretch of the trail is a smorgasbord of gold, yellows, reds and brown as vine maple is prevalent.
After the short climb through forest the trail opens out to climb a more-open stretch; more stumps lean out over the trail and note how the bare patches of earth (made when the new trail was created) are filling in with salal and other vegetation. Several stretches of the trail have been logged in the past; note how wild blackberries are wrapping their arms around the stumps and note how in the fall mushrooms seemingly appear seemingly overnight. From this cleared stretch you’ll begin to get glimpses of the Snoqualmie peaks but the best is yet to come.
Stan’s Overlook (2,100 feet) always fools me; it’s further away than I remember. Twice now we’ve almost turned downhill where another logging road comes in from below. It is especially tempting because in the thin layer of snow on the road we could see where others have come and gone. Clue: this may be another approach to Stan’s overlook (stay tuned). We love to explore so next time we hike there; we’ll hike down the road and see where it comes out (if anywhere).

If/when in doubt; you can rely on good signage - after another uphill stint a hard-to-miss sign points the way to Stan’s Overlook and other points of interest beyond. For Stan’s turn left at this junction - an old road leads to a picnic table and a spread of views to please the taste of any hiker. On this last day in February the picnic table was covered with snow; it wasn’t picnic weather. Though the sun was out it was chilly. We opted to continue hiking until we ran out of energy or time, whichever came first.

Once past Stan’s Overlook the trail climbs through mostly second- and third-growth forest. Some hikers get bored hiking through what some might call unremarkable forest but we can always find something to please the eye; a wisp of fern, an animal track, unusual bark on a tree. This stretch of the trail is mostly “up” but at a more modest grade than the beginning and with a few downs to hold one’s interest.
With our lazy start-time we had to push to get to Grand Prospect, about 4 miles from the trailhead (according to the trail signs); other write-ups suggest it is more like 5 miles to Grand Prospect. No matter; once you are there the view is indeed “grand”. A signboard helps identify the sea of peaks across from you; some you’ll recognize. Today the graphics on the sign were covered with snow.
We only lingered long enough for a quick bite to eat, following a patch of sunlight that kept moving further and further away as minutes passed. It was warm in the sun but still cold in the shade. As always, when we gaze upon the Snoqualmie valley peaks and beyond we remember good hikes in the past, peaks we’ll return to when the snow is gone.

We packed up and hurried down; pausing to note that a cougar’s tracks had crossed our path. We’d heard of a “large” cougar that calls this region home and we would love to have seen it from a safe distance; there was also a smattering of bunny tracks that were not there on our way to the overlook. We believe the cougar had spotted us; that gave us a slightly eerie feeling. Friends tell me I have a way with cats but not kitties that size!

On our way down we only met two hikers coming up the trail; at Rattlesnake Lake we would have encountered many more.

To get there from Seattle: drive east on I-90 and get off at Exit 27. From the off-ramp turn right and continue a short distance to the end of the road – go through the gate (right) to the trailhead at 980 feet (straight takes you to the Snoqualmie Point Overlook, always worth a stop before or after a hike).

Additional information: The map is Green Trails No. 205S Rattlesnake Mountain. It is about 5 miles round-trip to Stan’s Overlook, about 8 miles round-trip (per trail signs) to Grand Prospect.

Karen Sykes

Putrid Pete. Who?

What’s In A Name? Who Was Putrid Pete? June 10, 2011

There is some understandable confusion regarding the name of this prominence. Some call it “Putrid Pete”, others call it “Webb Mountain” or the W. Peak of Defiance. There’s probably other names for it too since it’s a numbered high point on a ridge. Call it whatever you like, it’s a fun trail though considerably steep.

Dennis had been there before – it was Michael’s first time and also my first visit. Yes, I knew where the trail started. It’s pretty obvious where it leaves the Ira Spring trail near the trailhead.

Reports I’d read convinced me that I wanted to explore it some day, preferably with someone who’d been there. Dennis had been there so we were set.

Dennis is a GPS wizard so stop reading here if you are looking for GPS waypoints and such but if you’d like those I can probably get them from him and post them here. Admittedly, I’m not much into gadgets though I have a GPS. Like my “smart” phone, I don’t feel “smart” enough to understand these devices and use them only when necessary.

We didn’t quite make the “summit” – the combination of poor visibility (fog, clouds) combined with treacherous old age stopped us short of the summit. We could have made it – the desire to do so wasn’t just as strong as our desire to stop plodding uphill. Or should I say plodding uphill through wet snow (the wet vegetation and loose rocks were challenging enough).

We let Michael lead the way – his pace is easy to follow, moderate and deliberate. I’d have to say his pace qualifies as a good “forever” pace. Same thing can be said for Dennis.

Following the trail from where it leaves the Ira Spring trail is a cinch. Enough folks have used it now that route-finding isn’t much of an issue. When in doubt, go uphill. We crossed a stream (was it the same stream or two different streams?) – we didn’t pay much attention as the crossings were not a problem. Just a hop, skip and a jump, no raging torrents here.

The trail is steep and in good condition most of the way, especially through the forest. No worse than say, the trail to Mount Defiance or Mailbox Peak before that trail breaks out into the open.

We crossed a small talus field – there’s a cairn to mark where the trail re-enters the forest but if it wasn’t there, it’s still easy enough to spot. We left it. Some hikers knock them down – we don’t.

The forest gradually opens out into a steep slope of loose rock, wet vegetation (lots of emerging bear grass – that should be blooming within a couple weeks). As for the gradient of the trail, it never relents. There are no flat spots. No scary spots either. It’s just … well, steep.

Clouds obscured most of the views – at times we could see I-90 below and we’re pretty sure McClellan Butte made a partial appearance at one point. We could not see the ridgeline above us or the high points so we stopped for lunch, opting to play the rest of the day by ear.

It was a little too chilly to linger so we discussed the pros and cons of going higher. Michael was content to stop there and savor the rest of his lunch. Dennis and I still had a spark of summit fever so agreed to continue on a little further.

If anything the terrain even grew steeper, the rocks looser, the vegetation more slippery, yet we pushed onward. From time to time the clouds would part for views of the ridge above us; my gosh, this is a beautiful place. No wonder more hikers are finding there way to whatever-the-name of this place is.

We reached a point where we could see what we believe was the named prominence. A fat strip of snow would lead us to the top but there was still 400 feet or so to go. We were in all honesty – tuckered. Dennis and I opted to turn around since we knew that going down wasn’t going to be much easier than climbing.

We met Michael and we retraced our way down, grateful when we recognized landmarks though Dennis could have led the way with his expertise with the GPS. A couple of us fell – once – on the way down. I won’t tell you who. No injuries other than muddy pants and a sudden loss of self-esteem.

If you think this was misery – well, it wasn’t. Tiring yes - but also fun and exhilarating. I enjoyed it so much I’ll go back to tag the summit of whatever that chunk of rock is called but I’ll wait for dry vegetation and blue skies.

Stats: About 2,650 feet of elevation gain to our turnaround, 4.6 miles round trip. (What? Is that all?)

Hypothermia Hills, April 6, 2010

HYPOTHERMIA HILLS (April 6, 2010)

Q: Where the heck is Hypothermia Hills? A: Just about any trail near North Bend on a rainy day.

This was just about the most entertaining but frustrating hike we’ve done lately. The trail is not really a trail, rather it is a route that has sprung up like weeds that lead to any number of destinations, none of them sane or easily described. Add rain, sleet and mud and you’ve got Hypothermia Hills.

This trail (for lack of a better word) is undoubtedly nothing to a rock climber but a hiker will have their work cut out for them. It could be considered one of the climbers’ trails off Exit No. 38 and you might be able to find more information about this trail by researching The Internet or a bookstore, especially a used bookstore.

Of greater interest to some: you can look up “Dirty Harry” on The Internet but this Dirty Harry is not to be confused with Clint Eastwood. Dirty Harry was a gyppo logger who put in logging roads where other road-builders refused to tread. Let’s just say the foothills around North Bend were his cathedral, a place where his used-up trucks and equipment could forever rest.

A hike called “Dirty Harry’s Balcony” should also give you some idea of what to expect of the terrain and though guidebook author Harvey Manning was not fond of the logging industry (especially gyppo loggers), I believe he had a grudging admiration for wily Dirty Harry who built roads too stubborn to die. Legend has it that Harry is still around and if he’s not, his ghost is. Every time I come across a cable in the brush, I get a shiver thinking of Dirty Harry and the way he shaped the land up around North Bend. I also believe that though he used the land he loved it fiercely.

There’s also a place where a stream crosses Dirty Harry’s road where persistent hikers find and photograph the slow death of one of Dirty Harry’s trucks. I’ve looked but haven’t found it yet; like Harry, it eludes me.

I may have met his ghost. Recently on our way to Mount Si we screeched to a halt along the Mount Si Road where elk had just crossed and were disappearing into a field, silent as shadows. A few other vehicles braked to a stop and pulled off to the side for a closer look. A fiftyish fellow in a beat-up pickup had pulled over and rolled his window down – he was holding on to a cup of coffee with one hand and his lower denture in the other as he expounded to us on how “great” it is to see elk so close. We were as fascinated by this local as we were the elk – he was so amazingly unself-conscious about how he looked. I almost asked his name but didn’t. I’m basically shy. It’s one of the reasons I write.

When I was writing for The Seattle Post Intelligencer I got a handwritten letter from a reader who was a child when she encountered him on a logging road in North Bend. Her family had gone for a picnic and a Sunday drive on the back roads when their car broke down. It was getting on toward twilight and it was too far for the father to hike down to North Bend. As they sat in the car trying to think what to do a couple of rough-looking fellows pulled up in a beat-up truck. This was back in the days before cell phones; the men offered to drive the father down to North Bend for help. The woman continued her story describing how long it felt to sit in the car with her mother as darkness fell, waiting for her father to return. The story had a happy ending – obviously the ruffians were good men and did not harm anyone in the family.

Back to the present: Instead of going to North Bend we continued east, turning off I-90 at Exit 38; from there we continued east along the frontage road (Old US 10) to the east end of the exit (to head back west you have to drive back along the frontage road for the west-bound on-ramp). Parking is limited but there are a few spaces where you can park without blocking roads used by the Fire Training Center or land-management agencies. To find the beginning of the trail hike up the road as if you were going to the state Fire Training Center. Cross the South Fork of the Snoqualmie River on a bridge. Just after you cross the river on the bridge spot the trail heading east along the river.

Some hikers call this the “bird box trail” and I find this name agreeable despite the unpleasantness of the route on a rainy day. There are actually bird boxes on trees at several points along the trail. Nope, I don’t know who put them there but it’s nice to spot one (that way, you know you are “somewhere” at least).

We found the Bird Box trail by accident (we had planned to visit Dirty Harry’s Balcony) a few years ago. We’d planned to hike to Dirty Harry’s Balcony (further up the road past the state Fire Training Center) but spotted an obvious trail at the bridge. We’d been to the “balcony” before and since the trail near the bridge wasn’t signed we had to find out where it went.

That turned out to be a route-finding romp but the weather was good and my companions were jolly. The crafty path wove between boulders in forest gloom before finally climbing to grassy, bald knolls with views down to I-90, the surrounding foothills and ridges. After gaining 1,300 feet or so the trail came out on an old road with a sign and arrow pointing to Dirty Harry’s Balcony (you can also get to this spur from Dirty Harry’s Road). From there it only took a few minutes to reach the Balcony. After the visit to the Balcony we followed the spur road back to Dirty Harry’s Road and hiked back to the car – that made a nice loop.

Silverback and I attempted to repeat that loop yesterday; we were raring to go despite the rain. After crossing the South Fork of the Snoqualmie I looked for the start of the trail and spotted it immediately (it is on the east side of the bridge).

Off we went in the spirit of optimism despite the rain. The trail is level for a bit as it parallels the river and gradually becomes an old road. The next stretch of the hike is part of a cable line road. Signs prohibit “digging” because of the buried cable but who would want to dig here anyway? After a bit of this and that we paused at an unsigned fork in deep woods interspersed with boulders. You will encounter several forks on this trail system, each one more vague than the one before.

Memory kicked in; I recognized a tugboat-sized boulder pinned to earth by a chain mail of steely roots. While the surrounding forest is dark and gloomy the outcroppings, are graced with the yellow-green sheen of moss that illustrates how long the boulders have been there (a very long time).

Meanwhile, back at the “junction” I couldn’t remember the correct “spur” to continue on the Bird Box Trail. First we tried the east fork; but that was wrong – the east “fork” does lead to another jumble of boulders but that wasn’t where we wanted to go.

We tried the other path; the correct one (this is actually the old road that is marked with buried cable signs). From that junction it was up, up and up. Occasionally we’d spot a bird-box or a cairn to help us find our way though once you are on the correct trail, it’s easy enough to follow.

The buried cable signs disappeared; the trail climbed steeply, through pockets of forest, skirting rocky promontories with what are wonderful views on clear days. Today the views were of fog in shades of white and gray, obscuring the ridgelines across the freeway. From time to time I-90 would partially materialize before disappearing again into the void.

Of course, we were dealing with Harry’s weather; rain, drizzle and fog. Worse, we began to encounter snow. Initially the snow wasn’t a problem though we had to watch our step where the path skirted an outcropping with nothing below but fog. After skirting about the 5th or 6th outcropping (we weren’t counting, we were too busy hiking) we lost the trail in a forested section where snow had covered the ground. We gamely carried on a while because we knew we were close to the road that provides egress to Dirty Harry’s Balcony.

We were ever certain of success when we spotted a wooden arrow pointing the way on a tree but Dirty Harry had a trick or two up his sleeve. He wasn’t going to allow these city slickers into the Balcony today; we spent quite a bit of time looking for the trail, always returning to the arrow so as not to get lost.

Lest you think we are idiots without route-finding skills give us a break; the GPS is broken and our only assistance was my less-than-perfect memory and our ability to follow the trail as the snow continued to erase the tread. It was getting late, we were getting wet and after bungling about on what “might” have been the “trail” we had to admit defeat and start back down the way we’d come (earlier in the day we’d gaily remarked how nice it would be to hike back down on Dirty Harry’s Road rather than the Bird Box trail). Be careful what you say!

Descending the trail was not pleasant; where there wasn’t a thin layer of snow there was mud. Then, of course, add rocky outcroppings looming over a foggy void where a haphazard slip could lead to Certain Unpleasantness. While this descent could hardly qualify as having a good time it went quickly, much more quickly than we’d anticipated. Fantasies of dry clothes and coffee back at the car added inspiration to our somewhat reckless and speedy descent (we managed to descend without slipping, a minor miracle).
We were chilled to the bone by the time we got back to the car; even the best raingear and boots will fail to some extent on such a wet day. Sound miserable? It was; but it was also a lot of fun.

As for the weather we call it hypothermia weather; hence, Hypothermia Hills. So rest guaranteed that just about any place you hike around North Bend on a wet day might put you at for hypothermia – go prepared. Watch out for Dirty Harry’s ghost, allow time to sleuth the way and if you ever do find the connection of the Bird Box trail to the Balcony drop me a note!

Last but not least I’d love to say we’d climbed a couple thousand feet for a 10-mile hike but it appears we’d gained only about 1,300 feet of elevation per my ancient altimeter; and I’ll guess at the mileage. Three to 3-1/2 miles the at most; it felt like more.

Gold Creek Pond, December 28, 2009

Gold Creek Pond, Green Mountain Road (North Bend), December 26, 2009

December 29, 2009

Gold Creek Pond/Gold Creek, December 28 (Hyak)

Yesterday we drove up to Hyak, parked at the Gold Creek Sno Park and hoofed our way up the Gold Creek Pond. We thought Gold Pond wouldn’t be crowded but we forgot school was out for the holidays so an attitude adjustment was in order.

By the way, the Gold Creek Road is treacherous on foot without Yak Trax or the like – I wore mine but Silverback doesn’t have them yet. He fell a couple of times on the road but sustained no injuries. Maybe it doesn’t matter if you’re a teenager but falling down on an icy road is not such a good idea when you’re in your 60s. With the right vehicle you can drive closer to Gold Pond and park, of course. Don’t forget your Sno Park permit if you go.

Sans snowshoes we hiked up the road to the pond and started out on the loop counterclockwise. When we reached the junction for the Gold Creek trail we added that to our itinerary for the day. That necessitates more walking on the road to reach the actual trailhead, perhaps ¾ of a mile. We turned around in about a half mile where the trail breaks out of the trees at the obvious avalanche slope above the trail (Rampart Ridge loomed above, hidden in the clouds). There didn’t appear to be much snow on the slope but we didn’t want to take a chance; besides, we were aware of trail damage a little further along the trail. Other trail reports indicate blowdowns like giant stacks of pick-up-sticks not too far from where we turned around.

Other than a couple of folks on skis we had that trail to ourselves though there has been snowshoe activity on the trail (no need for snowshoes yesterday). Most folks we encountered at Gold Pond were wearing snowshoes but they were not needed. We bare-booted it the entire way, even on the Gold Creek trail. There is very little snow up there (or anywhere) as of this writing. Rampart Ridge stayed hidden in the clouds with only a bit of it emerging from time to time through the mist.

This was a good winter “shake down” hike for us; we didn’t layer up enough to deal with the cold wind and were chilled most of the time we were out on the trail. We didn’t eat lunch until we got back to the car where a hot thermos of tea awaited us.

We probably hiked 3-4 miles with a couple hundred feet of elevation gain at most.











Other recent hikes, including Green Mountain Road (December 26, 2009)

This has been an odd month for hiking – short days combined with a tight budget have kept us closer to home and the weather has been odd. Despite these challenges we’ve managed to get in several hikes in the last couple of weeks.

Our “biggest” hike was Mount Si – Silverback’s first visit to that lofty pinnacle. The weather has been so dry that we watched hikers scramble to the summit without difficulty (these, of course, are folks that have scrambling skills). I was tempted to join them as I’ve only climbed the Haystack once (when scrambling skills were fresher than they are today).

We’ve also hiked the Talus Loop (on Mount Si) and taken the “short cut” out to the Tenerife Road and made a nice little loop. We left a car at the school bus turnaround in order to make the loop.

Most of our hikes have been “brown” hikes and admittedly it is hard to get excited about such hikes. We use “brown” hikes as conditioners, to keep us in shape for snowier trails where snowshoes are needed and we can go to more interesting places. Neither one of us like to contend with the icy crud that is on the trails as of this writing.

We also took a peek at the new Kamikaze Falls trail but since it is not officially open I won’t say much about that except to say that the trail will be an excellent trail when it is finished. Having been on the “old” trail a few times, I can honestly say this is an improvement. I don’t know the completion date for this trail but hopefully that will be soon so I can say more about it in this blog.

We’ve also checked out the so-called trail to Green Mountain that branches off from the CCC road. Since schools were closed for the holidays we parked at the “school bus turnaround” on Mount Si without worry of getting towed. From there we hiked up the Mount Si Road, continued on the CCC road until we reached the turn off for the Green Mountain road. If you get to Brawling Creek on the CCC Road, you’ve gone too far. The Green Mountain road is roughly ½ mile or so before Brawling Creek – the old road is marked by a rusty gate on the left-hand side of the CCC road – easy to spot in winter, harder to spot in the summer when vegetation obscures it.

It was a windy, sunny day but once we were on the Green Mountain road we were somewhat protected from the aptly-forecast wind. We hoped for a little bit of snow or ice/frost “compositions” to photograph along the road – alas, this turned out to be another brown hike. Between us we probably took about 20 photographs – there’s not much to photograph here. Still, the road is a good conditioner, it’s quiet, it’s not crowded and if you look closely you’ll find a few artifacts here and there, left from past logging eras. The road is easy to follow with stretches of ankle-twisting loose rock to contend with but otherwise no difficulties were encountered. After crossing what we believe to be Brawling Creek we turned around, having gained about 2,000 feet of elevation to that point.

The views of the Middle Fork peaks I recalled from a previous hike on the road are partially blocked as trees grow taller and vegetation fills in the blank spaces. Though there are partial views to Garfield Peak and other Middle Fork peaks; it’s hard to get a good photograph because of the encroaching vegetation.

There are numerous, tight switchbacks on the road and one cannot help but imagine what it might have been like to come hurtling down the steep road driving a truck with a load of timber. There seem to be few pullouts along the way – that old road must have witnessed some exciting times. Now the road is in the process of becoming more trail-like; it would be interesting to come back in another 10 years or so and see what Time has done to the road.

On our way back the wind picked up, especially along the CCC road and we hurried, keeping one eye on our feet and the other on swaying trees.