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

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.

Carkeek Park, July 30, 2009

HEAT AND A COOL DOWN AT CARKEEK PARK (July 30, 2009)

It’s been too hot for Silverback and me to hike this week. We don’t have air-conditioning and the days/nights have been miserable. Last Sunday’s hike to Laughingwater Creek was the last “real” hike we’ve done so far this week. The car breaking down, plus waiting for a tow truck in the heat drained our batteries. Sorry for the cliché – this is what heat does to me. I feel about as creative as an oil spill. Or hot tar on a roof. You get the idea.

We’ve been able to get some respite from the heat – a picnic in Lincoln Park, a visit to the West Seattle library and yesterday a Scrabble game at the Senior Center. We brought our own game not being sure that the Senior Center had one (they didn’t). While the Senior Center didn’t have A/C they did have big fans and cold water. That helped a lot. Our brains got a workout – Silverback is a good player. I almost always win at Scrabble – this was his first time to play the game and we ran neck and neck down the Scrabble course. We both love words and it shows.

Today we went to Carkeek Park. Carkeek is one of my favorite “four season” parks in Seattle. While it didn’t qualify as a hike by any stretch of the imagination it just felt good to be outside. And as is so always the case – we carried cameras in the event we might find subject matter to photograph. We did manage to get a few photos – colorful beach umbrellas on the beach, sculpture art in the park and rose hips as big as tomatoes. We strolled the Wetland Trail though this time of year, it’s not that wet.

I waded in Pipers Creek where it flows into the Puget Sound, it felt great to wiggle my toes in the wet sand. There were the usual clusters of seagulls and Canada geese gathered where the freshwater meets Puget Sound, Mom’s with children cooling off in the shade, wading in the water, a few sun bathers in the sand. The heat made us a little silly; nothing wrong with that. We made up funny little poems about the park such as “fish ladders make the fish gladder”.

We stood over the railroad tracks on the pedestrian bridge and watched a freight train go under – it didn’t have a caboose. So many trains don’t have those anymore. I know it’s another cliché but watching or listening to a train always makes me feel lonely; that part of me that never had the courage to run away still festers within and old daydreams about running away and hopping a freight train die hard. No one describes riding the rails as poignantly as Loren Eiseley – now I must venture down into the basement and ferret out his essays to read again. The late Eiseley was a poet and naturalist; one of his books was entitled “The Night Country”.

Back in the 1970s I didn’t drive and didn’t have much money so I either took a train or a Greyhound to wherever I wanted to go. I traveled light then; just my clothing, my poetry and a lot of dreams.

We walked back to the playground and cooled off on the swings. Geezers on swings – why not? That’s one way to get a breeze albeit temporary. We found other pieces of art throughout the park, pondered those and wished we knew more about the artists and their work. The Sculpture Art in the Park will apparently be there until August 10. It’s fun to find them!

Carkeek Park is in North Seattle – it’s especially inviting in the spring when the orchard is in bloom and the gnarled fruit trees are surrounded by daffodils. You can also find semi-hidden snow-drops near the orchard early in the year. The park is also pretty in the fall. That’s when the salmon return to Piper’s Creek.