Duwamish Hill Preserve, December 2010

Duwamish Hill Preserve (Beaver Monster Hill)

We don’t always go to the mountains. Sometimes we can’t afford to fill the gas tank, other times the weather is dire enough that staying closer to home seems like a better idea.

When the budget is lean and winter days are short – we walk. In addition to Alki Point, Lincoln Park, Longfellow Creek, Schmitz Park and other parks nearby we’ve walked around Georgetown, South Park (before they dismantled the bridge), Allentown (a small community under the umbrella of Tukwila), the Duwamish Longhouse on West Marginal Way and nearby a few abandoned, ancient houses that intrigue (sorry, no trespassing allowed)

We’ve also walked the Green River trail (from Boeing) to Allentown, stopping along the way where historical tidbits of earlier times can still be seen (and photographed). In short, we won’t to run out of “material” for many years – if ever. Mostly, though, these urban walks raise more questions than provide answers.

Take today for example – we wanted something close to home (the Pineapple Express was due to arrive) so decided to explore around Tukwila (Allentown) and see what we could find. On our way to the Tukwila Community Center we noticed what appeared to be a small park (no signage but obvious parking available). Since one of our objectives was to find Beaver Monster Hill and since the parking area was right under a hill with a trail on it, we figured this was it.

The hill is sometimes referred to as Poverty Hill by locals and is also known as Beaver Monster Hill. Silverback related the Native American story of Wishpoosh, the Beaver Monster to me as we walked. Long ago the Beaver Monster lived in Lake Cle Elum and according to the legend ate all the salmon in the lake on which the Native Americans depended. People were starving so Coyote (the trickster) and Wishpoosh fought – as they battled they chewed their way south to where the Columbia River meets the ocean. Finally Coyote managed to kill Wishpoosh and from that time the people could eat the salmon and continue to live along the river. Beaver Monster Hill is al result of that great battle.

If you’re interested in finding the hill you can follow our convoluted directions, get help from Mapquest or refer to recently published “Hiking Washington’s History” by Judy Bentley. From Seattle we headed south on I-5 and got off at Exit 158, turned west to Interurban Avenue, turned south onto Interurban (you can see the hill from Interurban Avenue but not the park). From Interurban we turned left onto South 115th Street – Duwamish Riverbend Hill (is on the left side of 115th Street).

The park appears to be open despite lack of signage; there is an obvious parking area. From the parking area a trail climbs a gentle grade with steps to the summit. Along the way there are benches where one can sit. There are views to the north of the Seattle skyline and on a clear day, probably views of Mount Rainier to the south.

From the summit we enjoyed views of the tannin-hued Duwamish River, bordered with industrial sites interspersed with pockets of forest and bottomlands. Once upon a time fishing villages lined the river; today the hill is surrounded by the hustle and bustle of industry – traffic on Highway 509, airplanes, semi-trucks and light rail hurtle by - it is reassuring to look down upon the Duwamish River as it still makes its way to Puget Sound. The river lives on despite us.

After the hike we looked on The Internet for additional information about the park; hence an article by the Cascade Land Conservancy (the 8-acre park opened in September this year). They refer to the park as the Duwamish Hill Preserve; the project took 10 years to complete. We didn’t count the steps; they say it takes 80 steps to reach the top. In addition to benches and trails a storytelling area was also built. The City of Tukwila was able to purchase the land thanks to the Cascade Land Conservancy and volunteers who put in many hours clearing the land of ivy, blackberries and trash. Even Foster High School students got involved in helping to preserve the site - they wrote a play about the hill and how it has changed over time (the students donated over $1,000 in ticket sales to the cause).

According to the CLC the site is estimated to be about 40 million years old (older than Mount Rainier). In the geological past the hill was underwater; marine fossils have been discovered there. Today the hill is a pretty place with rocky outcroppings covered with moss, sword ferns and in spring, wildflowers.

For additional information or to volunteer contact the Cascade Land Conservancy at http://www.cascadeland.org/

Kamikaze Falls, December 10, 2010

Kamikaze Falls, December 10, 2010

We know that the weather forecasters get a little carried away with their dire predictions but the system coming in this weekend does really appear to be nasty. Lots of snow, followed by a pineapple express (snow level ranging between 7-8,000 feet) – much of the snow that has fallen will melt. Friday was correctly predicted to be mostly dry (at least along the I-90 corridor) with a few showers. We leapt at the opportunity to escape our confines (cabin fever has set in).

After considering and then rejecting a hike (possible snowshoe trip) starting from the Carbon River entrance of Mt Rainier National Park we settled for something closer to home, especially as the cost of gas is going up. Again. Plus, recent trail reports indicated that it would likely be another brown hike (possibly hitting snow at 3,000 feet or above) and the Carbon River Road is much lower than that.

What, you may ask, is a brown hike? It’s a term that hikers have been kicking around for a few years used to describe the time of year when fall color has fled and snow has yet to fall and stay. The ground is a mash of wet leaves the color of meatballs forgotten in the back of the refrigerator and the branches of deciduous trees are bare.

However, knowing that this is the time of year for brown hikes we’ve learned to cope with them in a variety of ways. As a published photographer (nope, I’m not famous and will never put Art Wolfe out of business) on a lean budget and a low-end digital camera I’ve learned to view the mountains in a different way this time of year.

Take today for example – as soon as we got up, we knew where we wanted to go. There was only a slight chance of showers (we are okay with that and prepared) and the trailhead is close to home (Seattle). We could afford hit the road!!

On hiking websites there has been much to-do about the Kamikaze Trail near North Bend – the “old” trail departed from a service road and went up, up, up beside Kamikaze Creek and over the years enough hikers found their way to the boot path that it became the legendary route to not only Kamikaze Falls but a boot-trail went all the way to Mount Teneriffe.

The Department of Natural Resources (DNR) wasn’t happy with all those hikers using the “old” trail and they attempted to keep the hikers out. That didn’t work – not even the signs warning of fines and “THIS IS NOT A TRAIL”.

At that time I was still writing “Hike of the Week” for The Seattle Post Intelligencer (printed version, not on-line). I was still pretty naïve about the ins and outs of land-management agencies when I first wrote up lowland trails so when I wrote up Kamikaze Falls for the PI I got some flak from readers. Some suggested that I had “ruined” their “secret” trail while others grumbled about ecological damage to the creek. Humbled, I resolved never to speak of Kamikaze Falls again.

Until I got a call from a DNR employee who said they were considering building a trail to Kamikaze Falls and would I like to accompany them on a hike? They wanted me to hike with them and give them my input on what it was like to hike the “old” trail and where the “new” trail (if they did build a new trail) should go.

As we hiked toward one of the overlooks of the falls on the “old” trail we agreed that nothing was going to keep hikers away from Kamikaze Falls and that perhaps building another trail was some sort of solution. A few years passed. Next thing I knew there was word of a “trail” being built to an overlook of Kamikaze Falls (the old trail would still be discouraged).

Last summer the trail was not finished but we hiked part of it on a quiet weekend and well, we liked the new trail. It wasn’t as dramatic as the original route but it was safer and there were – and are – some gorgeous spots along the trail (besides the die-hards have probably figured out a way to use the “old” trail anyway and at the very least are continuing on to Mount Teneriffe).

Since it had been a while we wanted to see how the new trail was getting on. We drove to the “School bus turnaround” on the Mount Si road and parked – it was a weekday and since it is a school bus turnaround you’d better get back to your car before the school buses turn around – just to be on the safe side). There’s another “way” to get to the new Kamikaze Trail but that’s another story. Let your imagination get to work.

A few other cars were also parked there and the DNR road was gated – as usual. As before we hiked up the road approximately a half-mile to where the signed trail to Kamikaze Falls takes off. As we hiked along the first stretch of the road we were amazed by the number of small trees that had been broken off by high winds earlier this week – some trees looked like they had exploded.

There did not appear to be any wind damage along the Kamikaze Falls trail, though. We had the trail to ourselves and the hike was pleasant, even on a drab day such as this one. It wasn’t a day to take superior photographs but it just felt good to be outside (Hell, it always feels good to be outside, doesn’t it?)

While there aren’t magnificent views along the trail we found beauty along the way. First of all there are the moss-slathered rocks, the ferns, the blue-green lichen and though the light was poor it was fun to photograph some of the quiet beauty as we hiked. Silverback mentioned – more than once and he was correct – that the trail is finely engineered and well built. Frankly – having hiked the old trail in the past – I like the new trail. The trail traverses several open slopes graced with boulders and views to Rattlesnake Ledge (and beyond on a better day). Apparently some hikers don’t like the new trail because the “adventure” has been taken out of it but you find any complaint here. Isn’t it a good thing there are lots of other “secret” places where they (or we) can still experience an adventure?

After contouring across the talus slopes the trail skirts Kamikaze Creek before it turns into dark, quiet forest. A little further along is a mossy outcropping at the end of a switchback; from here is a view you can’t miss nor would you want to.

Beyond the outcropping the trail continues to zigzag mostly through the forest, at one point joining the old trail, then leaving it again. The sound (and the fury too) of the waterfall can be heard and finally a white blur through the dark stands of trees gives a hint that you’ve reached the “first” overlook at the end of another switchback.

Here we were close enough to the waterfall that we were satisfied to make this our turnaround point (about 2,570 feet). We expected the waterfall to be amazing – and it was. Only one small snow patch remained; the rest was a blur of white water cascading over dark, semi-submerged rocks. We took a few gingerly steps down for a closer look, hanging on to trees for balance as we went.

We considered climbing further but beyond the first overlook the path is a little rougher and more of a scramble (we’re not quite sure where the official trail ends and the other begins). It looked like we had about another 150 feet or so to climb before we reached the top of the falls (it also appeared we weren’t far from the snowline). With an earlier start we might have gone on but going to Mount Teneriffe that way was out of the question (no ice axes, lack of time, lack of desire).

As we retraced our route we met a few other hikers coming up – the trail was a wise choice given the weather and the storms to come. We made good time back to the car without feeling we were hurrying – 3 hours up and back. Round trip 6 miles with about 1,600 feet gain.

Silverback enlightened me as to the meaning of “Kamikaze” – in Japanese it translates to “divine wind”.

A good day!

Hanford Reach National Monument, Cougar Mountain Regional Park

These two hikes are as different as night and day.

Time constraints won't allow me to elaborate on Hanford Reach National Monument except to say that it's one of the most scenic hikes we've done in the last month or so. It is a long drive from Seattle though - it takes about 3.5 hours to get to Hanford Reach and that's just one way. There is compensation for the drive though - it's scenic. So scenic, in fact, that we had to resist stops along the way for photo opportunities and just plain curiosity about what else we could do in the region.

Really, I don't mean to taunt you with how lovely this hike is and then say so little about it. Let me try: Hanford Reach is the last free-running stretch of the Columbia River in the United States - the region is managed by the Department of Energy (DOE), the U.S. Department of Fish and Wildlife and Washington State Department of Fish and Wildlife.

The "white bluffs" in the Wahluke Unit of the monument was our goal - a hike I've enjoyed a few times in the past. The scenery defies description - the Columbia River, Locke Island, the sand dunes (about 4 miles from the "trailhead"), a settlers cabin that also served as a blacksmith shop and relics of WWII and the Cold War across the Columbia River.

Neither Jim, Maxine nor Bob had ever been there before - they were spellbound. The fine weather helped - in early November it was sunny and warm enough we could just "hang out" and take in the views. In spring we'll go back for the wildflowers ....

Sunday's hike (November 14) was like a hike on another planet after our visit to Hanford Reach. With a gloomy forecast and a tight budget we picked a hike close to home - Cougar Mountain Regional State Park. We hiked one of our favorite trails - from Redtown to Coal Creek Parkway. We like this hike because it is less crowded on weekends and under the right conditions it can be a pretty hike.

This wasn't the case yesterday - the fall color has drained out of the landscape and it's a "brown hike". Personally I don't like "brown" hikes - perhaps that's because there are few photo opportunities. A little snow would really enhance this trail -- or any trail in the lowlands (about the only kind of forest that can get away with being described as"beautiful" in November would be the rain forests but that's just my opinion). On second thought ... old growth forests, too, could also be rightly described as beautiful under the right conditions.

Spring is our favorite time to hike in the Issaquah Alps - we like watching, smelling and listening to the world wake up after a long winter's sleep. We also like the "Alps" later in the year when the waterfalls freeze and the brown leaves glitter with frost.

There were quite a few cars at Red Town - we expected that. But once we were on the trail we met only a few people and it felt good just to get fresh air and a lbit of exercise. We looked high and low for photo "opps" but didn't find many with our "dimestore" cameras. The beauty was there - the cameras are simply incapable of capturing the miniature, magical worlds we saw at our feet and on stumps. The cobwebs were misted with fine, droplets of rain but those were hard to photograph, especially when the cobwebs were nestled inside stumps.

Jeepers, I probably sound like I'm whining! Really, I'm not - I guess I'm just wishing that fall lasted longer and hoping that winter will be gentle (likely not). However, as for November as far as I'm concerned they could leave this month out of the calendar (it's probably a good thing I'm not in the charge of the world, eh).

White Bluffs (Hanford Reach) - about 8 miles round trip, no significant gain. Cougar Mt (Red Town to Coal Creek Parkway) - about 6 miles round trip, not much gain.

As for photos - the computer is trying to destroy (again) what's left of my sanity - it stubbornly insists on only posting the photo from Cougar Mountain, NOT the gem I had in mind for Hanford Reach. Sigh .....

Annette Lake, November 2010

Though I don't look forward to winter it always surprises me how much we enjoy winter hiking once we make the transition.

Yesterday, November 10, we found ourselves at the Lake Annette trailhead just about the time several other vehicles turned into the parking lot (most of them stuffed with other senior citizens). Make no mistake - these seniors could out-hike many hikers half their age. You won't find them (include us too) sitting around to commiserate about the dying of the light.

One of my idiosyncrasies is I don't like other hikers behind me on the trail (or at least not on my heels) so we let them get ahead of us (I must have been an outlaw in my previous life - I also don't like to eat in a restaurant unless my back is against a wall and I can see who's coming in or leaving). Or maybe it's just because I'm hard of hearing.

Or maybe it's just because I'm used to leading hikes for The Mountaineers - then, I like to lead from the rear on the way out in my belief that it's better to come across a problem on the way out - rather than behind. That way you can scoop up the trekking poles others often leave behind (one reason I don't hike with trekking poles - I'm sure I'd lose them). Hence I strapped my trusty ice-axe to my pack though we were pretty sure that was overkill for this particular hike.

After Bob and Jim enjoyed a pre-hike pipe of fine tobacco we set out - with no one behind us, of course. It looked and felt like November and it wasn't long before we were hiking in a scrim of snow. Shortly after crossing the Iron Horse trail we began to encounter more snow but not enough to be a problem. We were stopping frequently for photos -- well, Jim wasn't (he didn't bring a camera).

If you know anything about photography you know that dappled light in forest (with snow) is challenging but I tried anyway. Further along the trail we came to the first avalanche chute of death (well, they really can be when there's a lot of snow). Much to our relief the avalanche chutes were still hiker friendly (no ice axes needed as of this writing - that could change any day though).

Along the way we enjoyed expanding views of Humpback Ridge - the light on the slopes mottled with snow and brush that hadn't yet been buried were lovely. The sky was so blue above the ridge it looked "fake", more like a movie prop than the real thing.

By the time we reached the lake there were seniors all over the place but since we're seniors too that was fine with us. The larger group of hikers were non-intrusive and it was easy to share the space with them (at the trailhead we also ran into a couple of hikers I knew from The Mountaineers - they were also non-obtrusive but that may have been because they'd disappeared by the time we got there). Before we finished lunch they reappeared; we chatted with them before they headed back to the trailhead.

There was one dicey moment - as we hiked along the lakeshore a way Murphy, Jim's standard black poodle, fell off a flimsy bridge into the drink. Good thing he has a thick, curly coat. As for the lake, that also was a challenge to photograph because of the tricky light (we had to contend with "blue" snow and deep shadows). In all my visits to Annette Lake I have NEVER managed to take a good photo of the lake!

Actually there was another heart-in-the-throat moment: on our way down my right foot shot out from under me causing me to slip off a snow-covered rock and ending up with my mittened hands encased in cold water. Not fun. I lead out on the way down; Bob fell once and twice I could hear the stamping of boots as Jim managed NOT to fall a couple of times on the slippery snow.

Speaking of returning to the trailhead, the larger group of seniors were still exploring the lakeshore when we left. As for us we were cold enough that we hurried down (my right hand was so cold from being plunged into cold water that it was screaming). A good reminder to carry TWO pairs of gloves on winter hikes.

All in all despite minor inconveniences we couldn't have picked a better hike - the sun was shining, it wasn't raining, it wasn't windy and there wasn't enough snow to fret about.

We topped off the day with hot coffee in North Bend.

Since Persis

I've been out several times but am terrible with dates - I always think I'll remember the day I did a hike then Time gets away from me once again and the hikes begin to blur together. It's a pleasant blur and pretty but alas, perhaps not as informative as the write-ups should be. I'll try to do better.

My most recent hike was Granite Mountain (10-29-10) and given the weather we weren't quite sure what to expect. Weather turned out to be great for hiking - I'm a much better hiker in cool temperatures than I am when it's hot. We could have made it to the lookout if we'd taken our ice axes .... but we didn't. Sure, we could have bare-booted it up and trudged through the snow but having been there several times before it just didn't seem necessary. Like an old hiking pal always said before hitting the trail "Is this hike really necessary?" Well, yes it was. We needed the uphill workout as we've been hiking in the desert lately (I almost typed dessert rather than desert). Well, we've been in the dessert too. Another good reason for a good, stiff hike.

Seems like no matter what kind of weather you get on Granite Mountain it's just plain pretty. The fall colors were still out at lower to mid-elevations - we hiked a while through the snow until it became a little slick. We could see more of the same ahead and had read reports of snow deep enough to warrant (possibly) snowshoes once you reached the "tarns".

Oh, we gained over 2,300 feet elevation. That's at least respectable.

Last week - (perhaps Wednesday 10-27?) we took our pals Jim and Maxine out to Hanford Reach National Monument; they had never been there. My, it's a long drive. It takes about 3 hours to get to Hanford Reach from Snoqualmie Pass, a little longer from Seattle. If gas wasn't so expensive we wouldn't mind the drive because the drive is beautiful, one we never tire of.

About that gate with the solar panel at the Wahluke Unit of the Hanford Reach National Monument (off SR 24, just past milepost 63) ... the solar panel is missing so it no longer closes at schedule times. Perhaps it is done manually. The Hanford Reach National Monument is open dawn to dusk and you can hike the white bluffs either south or north (we headed north).

First we stopped to view the old ferry landing (a boat launch today) before hiking up to the bluffs. Near the boat launch is an old cabin that belonged to an early settler - later it became a blacksmith shop. Little of that is left today - the old structure is protected by a barbed wire fence and it should be. The weather couldn't have been better - it was warm, sunny and the views of the Columbia River and Locke Island from the bluffs are amazing. It's only about 350 feet gain or so to the bluffs - if you head north you'll get to sand dunes at about 4 miles - just past the dunes is the Saddle Mountain Unit (that is closed as of this writing). Hiking out to the dunes is one of the most interesting hikes I've done but we didn't have enough time at our disposal to do so on this visit.

It was spring the last time I hiked out to the dunes; then wildflower displays were amazing and they will be again. A return trip is in order.

We wish Hanford Reach wasn't so far away - it's a bit of a "reach" for us but yes, the hike was really "necessary".

Recently we hiked the interpretive trails at Ginkgo State Park (Petrified Forest) and a trail in the Ginkgo State Park Backcountry. The backcountry hike was on an old jeep track that climbed to views of the Columbia River (does anyone ever get tired of looking at that river?). The nearby petrified forest is a little off-putting because the displays of petrified wood are protected by concrete walls and covered with steel rebar. You cannot touch the displays nor can you get a good photo - it is a little like being in a zoo. It's too bad such sites are ravaged by hoodlums and thieves - if not for them, the fossils wouldn't need to be in "cages".

For closer views of petrified wood visit the nearby Ginkgo Gem Shop - there are also living Ginkgo trees there (Ginkgo trees are one of the oldest trees in the world and are native to China). They will grow under the right conditions - I've even spotted one in West Seattle. We also stopped by the Ginkgo State Park Interpretive Center but it is closed for the winter except by appointment. We walked the grounds, enjoying still more views of the Columbia River and beyond.

On October 20th (I actually remembered that date!) I hiked with a friend to Red Pond above Commonwealth Basin near Snoqualmie Pass. That wasn't our intention. We aimed for Red Pass (it was a gorgeous day and the fall colors were at their best). We opted for the longer approach via the PCT and were having a great conversation. The problem is that the conversation was so interesting that we missed the turn-off to Commonwealth Basin/Red Pass and got about half-way up to the Katwalk before we caught our error.

Neither one of us wanted to go to Kendall Katwalk (we'd been there recently) so we backtracked to the turn-off and headed toward Red Pass. However by the time we got to Red Pond we were hungry and stopped there for just about the laziest lunch I've ever indulged in. By the time we ate, talked some more and took photographs we lost interest in going to Red Pass so hiked back to the trailhead via the old trail in Commonwealth Basin.

By the way the old trail now sports a "new" bridge over the worst crossing of Commonwealth Creek. I don't know who is reponsible for the fine work but thank you, whoever you are!!

Mount Persis

Mount Persis (October 13, 2010)

A wild, rag-tag collection of hikers I used to scramble with in the 1990s would probably call Mount Persis a “candy-ass” hike. For that to be a respectable hike by their standards you’d have to include a long road walk, formidable elevation gain and inclement weather in order for it to “count”. Over time and through word of mouth the trail’s reputation grew as a doughty but worthy destination. Today Persis is even mentioned in a few guidebooks as a respectable destination though Fred Beckey probably gives it all of 2-3 sentences – something like “just follow the easy west ridge to the summit – no difficulties.”

My first Mountaineer scramble was Mount Persis in the 1980s – lead by Mary Sutliff, author of “Teanaway Country”, published by Signpost Press. I still have a copy of that must-have guidebook though it’s in tatters. That dreary November day we hiked in rain, wind and horizontal snow. At the summit I pulled icicles out of my hair. It was fun. Really, it was.

Then the trail (for lack of a better word) consisted of steep mud, slippery boulders, going over, under and/or around downed trees, negotiating an ankle-twisting boulder field - then just when you think it couldn’t get any steeper there was more climbing followed by a reprieve of sullen tarns, trying to keep up with shape-shifting hikers ahead through clammy fog and finally the summit with no views but for shivering, Gore-tex clad companions. It was fun. Really, it was.

Between the late 1980s through the 1990s I returned many times to Mount Persis in all seasons and weather; often in snowshoes, once even after running a half-marathon - those were good days (I thought they’d never end). In summer I lazed at the summit with Mount Index almost close enough to touch and entertained the possibility of the Persis-Index traverse but never got around to it. That didn’t sound like fun.

The rate at which Times passes is insidious. I’ve never stopped hiking but I had other places to go, articles to write and going back to Mount Persis didn’t seem important until recently. As time passes the desire to revisit such places has grown - that desire dove-tailed nicely with a friend in need of a write-up so three of us headed out with that objective in mind. It was time revisit that cantankerous trail again though I secretly hoped that the trail might have mellowed a bit over time. What would it be like to go back to Mount Persis after more than 10 years? Would it really be fun?

We knew about the problems with the road closures off SR 2 (Forest Service Road No. 62) and for a while no one seemed to know whether or not the gate would be open or closed. You just drove up to the gate, hoped for the best, drove to the “trailhead” and made damn sure you didn’t get locked in (we’d heard stories about hikers coming back to their cars – on the wrong side of the gate). That would not be fun.

The latest seems to be that at least for now the road is open but don’t cuss at me if it isn’t. Such things are always subject to change. A “No Shooting Area” inside the gate says in a few words what needs to be said to keep this place open to hikers. If they get too many shooters up there, if folks dump their dead appliances and what-all along the road, the land-management agencies may lock up the road again. That would not be fun.

As for us we lucked out on this golden October day. The road was open and as of October 13 no logging was taking place (this is all subject to change, weather could also affect your ability to get to the “trailhead”). Have a backup plan so if the gate is closed you can go elsewhere and still have fun.

My friend believed that I’d done the research on the revamped road system and alas, I thought that he’d done the research. We all knew the road system was more complex than it was in the 1990s due to logging and storm-related damage. As we drove up the road I was not too surprised to see changes; trees had grown tall where they’d been saplings in the early 1990s and stands of what had been mature trees had been clear-cut (anticipating such changes is different than seeing them). My limbic brain was working pretty well until we came to a junction I didn’t recognize – the Green Trails maps were out of date. My “gut” said “go left” – my companions thought otherwise. We parked, dithered a while and walked up the wrong road (right) that climbed toward the ridgeline. They finally convinced me that my first hunch had been correct – so we backtracked to where we’d left the cars to hike the “right” road (the right road is to the “left”). Confused yet? Are we having fun?

Time was growing short by that point; so were our tempers. We hiked apart for a while to “cool” down and I started out hiking too fast out-pacing the men. Thankfully I did recognize the road and knew we were close to the “trail”, a steep path (right) that looks like a dry streambed. There were two rigs parked directly across from the “trail”; the road being a little too rough for our passenger car. We were all smiles as we finally started up the “trail” and I recognized much of the terrain. At last we were having fun!

The first stretch of the route is no doubt the steepest, about equal to a workout in a gymnasium. Though it had been partially logged the route itself had not changed that much. It was up, up, up, and up with trees to crawl over, under or maneuver around while trying not to twist an ankle in a hidden hole. To compensate for the pain of elevation gain views begin almost immediately and the views would get even better. Before we reached the “meadows” (roughly the mid-point of the hike) to the north and east were views of Mount Baker, Mount Pilchuck and other Monte Cristo peaks (we were still having fun).

The boulder field was as I remembered it being, no worse and no better than years ago. After negotiating the boulder field the route climbs (moreorless) below and at times along the west ridge toward the summit. Though not as heavily forested it had been there were landmarks I recognized such as the balanced rock (looking north) and the lower cliffs of the Persis-Index massif. The trail, still steep, relented a bit though I was beginning to feel the effects of my too-fast initial pace -- I was determined to keep going and have fun.

Unlike my usual “forever” pace where I can hike/climb for hours without needing frequent sit-downs and “breathers” I had to stop several times to slow my thundering heart and/or catch my breath. Worst of all, my legs began to feel weak – a bad sign. No aches or pains, just generic fatigue so I stopped for an energy gel and then we kept going (I had been good about drinking water). I wasn’t so sure I was having fun.

The trail leveled off and by the time we reached the first meadows the fall colors were brilliant and the views expanding. All too soon the trail spurted upward again, back into the trees, crossing a few small talus fields before reaching the tarns (the tarns were not sullen, they were sparkling and cheerful). Here, one of my companions called it quits, he’d had enough “up” – beside, the tarns were beautiful and he was happy to stay put while we continued on. As I looked back I saw him taking photos of the tarns – it was obvious he was having fun.

By then I was getting tired; I had the desire to keep going but my body wasn’t cooperating. Against my companions’ advice I also wanted to reach the summit (Persis is one of my favorite summits). Since the summit was close, I left my pack at the tarns and continued climbing (don’t do as I do, do as I say and take your pack with you!). If you do something as stupid as that, you won’t have fun either.

My companion was at the summit by the time I arrived and he insisted I eat some of his crackers and peanut butter (I knew it was the right thing to do so I didn’t resist very much though I wasn’t hungry). We lingered long enough for photographs and a long look at Mount Index, Baring and other peaks (too many to name). As in the past I eyed the ridge between Persis and Index, wondering whether or not I’d ever be able to do the traverse but this time, the answer was “No”. Too many years had passed and my scrambling skills were a little rusty. Not fun!

We hiked back to the tarns, making good time. After a quick break at the tarn we knew we had to pick up the pace to get back down in time. There were time-constraints and we still were not absolutely certain we wouldn’t find ourselves on the wrong side of the gate. Such an outcome would result in a total lack of fun.

The descent was steep (no surprise, that) and we all fell, at least twice on the way down (no injuries other than pride). I felt fine – no aches or pains and since we were done with the “up” there was nothing holding me back from getting back down to the road. Going downhill made me feel young again – that was fun!

So what was “up” with me? Both companions thought I had low-blood sugar from lack of food, drink and starting out too fast. They were right, of course. However, I’ve learned from years of tough hikes that if I pace myself accordingly I don’t “bonk” despite my lack of interest in food while hiking or climbing. Perhaps I lose interest in food because I am so enthralled with the scenery (eating just doesn’t seem as important as seeing what’s over the next ridge). Ninety-nine percent of the time I get away with not eating much, this time I didn’t. But it was fun. Really, it was.

This situation could have ended it badly; I’m sure glad it didn’t.

Now the details – the short version with more precise data to follow - From Everett drive US 2 (north) turn right onto FS Road No. 62; as of this writing the gate is open. If you get to Index you’ve gone too far. Stay on Road No. 62 as it climbs (watch for possible logging trucks, the road is narrow), turn left at the first two junctions. At the third junction turn left IF you have a high-clearance vehicle then drive a short distance to the trailhead (there is a pullout with room for about 2-3 cars across from the “trail”). If you get to the end of the road you’ve gone too far (it ends just beyond the pullout). There is no sign for the trailhead. If you do not have a high clearance vehicle park at that third junction then hike to the trailhead.

Or as Fred Beckey might say – just follow the easy west ridge to the summit, no difficulties.









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Summer is truly over!

I'm like the White Rabbit in "Alice In Wonderland", I'm late, I'm late, I'm late. The faster I go, the behinder I get. That sort of thing. Time flies whether you're having fun or not, in or out of the mountains.

Where I've been lately .... Mount Persis, the Eastside Trail (MRNP) and a mellow ramble at Gingko State Park near Vantage.

I'm still trying to catch up - plus, prepare for this transitional time of year on the trails.