Hiking the Olympic Coast and Skyline Trail (my journal)

11am, Wednesday, Aug. 25

Finally on the road for the big trip of the summer: 2 weeks in Olympic National Park, WA.

Truck loaded with boxes full of pre-packed meals and a grocery sack full of Clif bars. We’ve got 2 packs (looking far too full without the food in them yet), 1 map of the park, a road atlas, MapQuest directions mugs of coffee and a plastic shark on the dash (sharky) – a whole other story.

Tension was high as we finished packing and picking up last minute items this morning. I was ready to go at 6:30 am and was less than patient as I waited for Rob to finish sleeping and get his stuff together. We finally left the house at 10am; hit the bank, the store, and my sisters’ to drop off the pooch. Moods improved as we tuned into the oldies radio station while cruising down 1-5N and I began to relax and realize— this is vacation! It’s supposed to be fun.

6 hrs and 20 min later, we arrived at the Forks Ranger Station just as the clutch went out in the Toyota. We went in to talk with the ranger, got maps, tide charts, bear canisters and permits, just to go out into the parking lot and find hat the truck was going nowhere. We called a local auto repair shop and had to use Rob’s AAA service, he’d just purchased the previous day to get the truck towed to Eagle Auto Repair. We loaded our packs with everything we might need for a couple of days, not sure what to do or where to go for the evening. A dirty guy in a jumpsuit named Josh came and took the truck away. He told us he was pretty sure every motel in town was full that night and offered a patch of grass next to the shop as a last resort. We thanked him and took off down the main strip in Forks, just to find out, Ol’ Josh was right. No vacancy anywhere. Our adventure was just beginning. We got a list of motel phone numbers and called every one on the list until we finally found 1 open room, 20 min outside of town. We booked it and hoofed it back to the ranger station, which was also the local transit center! We were told we could catch the last bus towards Port Angeles at 7pm. The bus driver was a nice old fellow who told us a story of the Chilean Memorial while we waited at the station. Everyone we encountered was extremely kind and curious about our journey. We tipped the driver as he dropped us off at a small café on the side of Hwy 101 called the “Hungry Bear.” The woman inside checked us into our room and pointed across a dead grass field to a mobile-home looking strip of orange motel rooms. The inside was quaint and looked somewhat like a cabin. The shower was tiny (3 ft square), but felt great because I knew it’d be my last for awhile. We would’ve slept great if it wasn’t for the crew of out-of-town roofers blasting music and having a bonfire right outside our door. It was nice to have a bed non-the-less.

4:30 pm, Thursday, Aug. 26

(Written by Rob) We slept in this morning and watched The Price is Right ‘til 10 o’clock. After checking out at the café and having a bloody mary we hit the road again. We missed the bus to Forks from the Inn but a kind young couple from Bellingham who where having breakfast offered us a ride into town. We spent a few hours doing research and checking out the local fare and were then able to walk to the mechanic’s shop and pick up the fixed truck. Anchor (Heather) looked up a local hostel and made reservations because it was already too late in the day to drive up the coast and start hiking. After a brief visit to the world’s biggest Western Red Cedar, and giving Anchor a lesson on driving a 5-speed manual transmission, we arrived at Jim’s Rainforest Hostel to relax and cook our first meal of the trip. Garlic and peppers are still tingling my taste buds, 4 hrs after we ate. Every day I meet a new person from a different history and life and listen to what they say. It could be ol’ Woody who owns the café at Bear Creek and says the 2 Joshes at Eagle Auto are good mechanics and won’t rip you of. It could also be the 75-yr old lady waiting tables who has lived in this tiny area her whole life and still doesn’t know when the bus runs by right in front of her café.  It could be Jim, who loves cows, purple refried beans, and people- people of all kinds.

Open your eyes, tune out, tune in, look around, breathe deep, go, do, relax…….

Day 3: Friday, Aug. 27

Today was an interesting, stressful, yet gratifying day. We did our morning chores at the hostel and said our goodbyes to the owner Jim, around 9am. We drove the truck into he Makah Indian Reservation and check out a local breakfast diner. After buying a required recreation pass from the natives, we headed off towards the Shi-Shi trailhead, stopping at an open-air market on the way, where local Makah people were selling wool wolf sweaters, knives, and various foods out of trailers. When we arrived at the trailhead we saw a sign that said “overnight campers use secure parking venues, .6 miles back! We went back and checked out the “venues”, but were appalled to learn that the local property owners were charging $10/night per vehicle. Later, some locals told us that the property owners either protect your car if you pay their fee, or send their crooked nephews out to break into your car if you choose to park on the street or at the trailhead. We didn’t have enough cash with us or care to pay $60 to park in a yard, so we got creative. We drove a few miles back up the road and stopped in at the office of the Hobuck RV Park. We explained our predicament and asked the woman if we could make some kind of arrangement to park our truck and pay an additional vehicle fee or something. She was very nice and said she didn’t see why we couldn’t just park along the driveway behind her office. She gave us a pass that said we had paid for 5 nights (free of charge) and even told us she’d keep an eye on it personally while we were away. I tipped her and our trip plans were back on track. With heavy packs, we traveled along the road back towards Shi-Shi. It didn’t take long until a sweet lady in a pick up truck came along and offered us a ride. She dropped us off at the trailhead where several other parties were busy packing packs. On the trail, we passed lots of other hikers with bulky gear, most with kids. 2.2 miles later, we popped out on the beautiful, wide, sandy beach. We walked in the surf a couple miles and found a perfect camp right off the beach, in the trees.

Day 4: Saturday, Aug. 28

Hiking the coast was not quite what I had expected. We left Shi-Shi right at the lowest tide and skipped across slippery rocks for most of the morning. We encountered our first series of headlands (dangerous points where we had to use rope ladders to portage around sections of the coast that were impassible or could trap us even at lower tides). After traversing 3 of these, we came to a rocky point that we’d have to get around to reach safety. Our time was short as the tide was coming in. Rob had just told me a true story about riptides coming in and dragging a party who was being too brave out to sea. All of them drowned and now we were going over a cliff-like section as waves came up and filled the pools next to my feet. Rob was ahead and I didn’t see which path he took over the rocks. Feeling helpless and not knowing what was around the corner, I went on, carefully placing each foot on the crumbly, slippery rocks. I guess I went a little off track as I found myself trying to traverse across a scary, narrow rock ledge 6 or 7 f. above the rest of the jagged rock. I tried to stay calm but everything I stepped on crumbled and I couldn’t quite balance the weight of y pack like I could if I was climbing. I imagined myself falling and breaking my ankle. Stuck as the tide came in and took me quickly out into the cold ocean. I almost started hyperventilating as I clung to the nubs but I told myself to chill out, took some deep breaths and found a way down. I took a sigh of relief as I came to a beach where Rob was waiting for me. We hiked another easy couple of miles and found our 2^nd camp at the mouth of the Ozette River. We called it “bird camp” because of the hundreds of seagulls on the shore. We longed for water when we found out the water we’d gotten upstream was salty and almost intolerable.  It was only the end of our second day but we longed for clean, cold water. I was so thirsty, I dreamt of running creeks all night and decided to try filtering more water from the river at the lowest tide possible the next morning.

Day 5: Sunday, Aug. 29

We woke up early to get across the Ozette at the lowest level possible. The fast-moving water was only inches deep and was easy to walk through. We hoped the water we pumped would be better, but it wasn’t. Still salty, my stomach turned. We hung out in tide pools, navigated through fallen giant trees and their root systems, and made good time for over 6 miles. Around noon, we stopped for crackers and leftover Alfredo noodles on crackers. The beach after Sand Point was open, wide and awesome. We strolled around barefoot for a few miles and took pictures of weird footprints with a “jumping gate in the sand. As we meandered down the sandy coast, we began to notice a river-like mote forming around us on the beach. Rob waded across the deepening rut, but I went further out into the shallow waves, hoping I could make it across the trickling delta without getting wet. Well, I did get wet from the waist down as 4 or 5 big waves built up on each other and came in hot. We were both a little soggy, but it was fine. We were having fun making patterns in the sand as we walked in the sun, full of energy and enthusiasm. We came to another rocky juncture where we’d have to go around in time quickly before the tides came in and had to make the choice whether to cross or not. We checked the map and decided to scout it out without packs to see what it was like beyond the outcropping. Rob needed to tape his foot so I hurried ahead into the tide pools to check it out. I hopped easily from slick rock to slick rock without my pack and ran most of the way to the sandy bend where I could see some of the coast we were about to try for. It opened up and I could see that we’d be safe from the surf. I jogged back and made my way over the rocks and saw that Rob was already on his way over to meet e before the verdict was in; one pack on back, one on his front. Apparently, it’s been too long and he’s decided to come looking for me to make sure I wasn’t swept away or something. I took my pack and we journeyed all the way to Yellow Banks, barely making it before the water swallowed up all the land below the steep walls. We had to go through a tunnel-like hole in the earth to make it through to our destination. I was sketchy putting my trust on unsound beds of seaweed covering the ledge we scrambled across. We made it to a welcoming flat beach, but it was encircled with 200ft sheer walls with driftwood piled high against them. We could only guess how far the tide would actually come in and trust our tide chart to know there’d still be room on the beach at high tide for our camp. We found our water source- a small creek flowing down through a grassy saddle in the cliffs, resupplied, and set up our space near the base of an enormous fallen tree.  The strong, woody roots made perfect shelves for all of our gear while cooking dinner. We got a fire going in the wind and watched as the tide came closer and closer (even after the tide charts said it would be at its highest). It came within 5 ft of our fire and finally receded back down the sand. The A.M. tide shouldn’t be quite as high and will give us more room… hopefully. 2 games of Yatzee and 2 games of driftwood ‘horseshoes’ later we put up our tent and settled in with a fire for the evening. Pumping water was becoming harder and harder each time and I’ve become willing to throw that thing away once we get back!! It takes about half an hour of hard upper body work to squeeze out 1 liter of drinking water. We got 1 liter and used some of the last treatment drops on Rob’s bottles. We’d have to work hard for the rest of our water on this trip. A lovely fire and a little rationed whiskey put us right to sleep after a good day of hiking. I think it was my best time at the beach ever! Such an adventure. So much to see. So much to enjoy.

Day 6: Monday, Aug. 30

We got an early start this morning around 7:30 am trying to get the most out of the late low tide around 10. As we started along the beach, we noticed that crabs make “mountain bike tire tracks” along the sand in strange shig-a-shaw patterns. It was funny to trace the track and find the crabs hanging out at the ends. At first we did a long traverse around in rocks and each of us fell several times because it was so slick. No serious injuries and we made awesome time as we got better at rock crossings and anti-seaweed navigation. The tide was so low we were able to bypass 2 of the big headlands and just cruise on wide-open flat sand for miles. Although we weren’t feeling so hot from last nights’ dehydrated veggie soup, we had an awesome hike and rolled into camp by 1 in the afternoon. We had time to enjoy a wide open beach for the evening. We made a big driftwood fire and went for a lovely stroll at dusk. We had so much time; we even built our own shelter by leveling a plot in the pebble ground and lashing 2 long pieces of driftwood together as a truss. We laid a flat plank on top of the truss and staked out a big ground tarp over the top. I made instant rice noodle soup for dinner and we tried our first tin of smoked clams in oil. Not bad! Of course, everything was beginning to taste fantastic as our food cans became emptier and emptier. Thank God for Clif bars for breakfast and lunch everyday. As the night went on, the weather began changing from foggy to sunny and back again. We busted out some lotion and did some loosening up with awesome ocean-side massages. Nice! We finished a round of Yatzee and headed to bed in our new shelter, only to wake up hours later to pouring rain and roaring wind. By 6am the tide was on its way out and the storm was raging. We tried our best to sleep it off awhile longer, but relaxing was difficult as the hillside directly behind us gushed with streams of cement-colored water and crumbly rock clods started thudding near the tent. We waited awhile to see if the rain would lighten up but soon, saw that it was certain to go on hard and strong. We got up and braved it, trying hard to keep things dry as we dressed and packed up. A few poncho-wearing hikers waved as they passed by and we were still scrambling to get ready. The day was starting off with a bang as football-sized rocks hit the ground right behind us from the huge boulder overhead. Boulders sat in the sand where our tent would have been during the night if we hadn’t built the shelter. We got out of there fast. We moved quickly to get warm and soon passed up the other hikers who were struggling to make it through a slick rock field. We sang some cheerful tunes as we went along, trying to make the best of this miserable day. I felt like a pro as I stepped easily from one slime-covered rock to another. Grateful for the climbing experience I’ve had to help me balance, shift my weight and trust holds that seemed unstable. We kept moving as fast as possibly for hours without stopping. Not wanting to get cold in our soaked clothes. Rain pelted our faces and made it hard to look up and see the scenery- if there was any to see. The fog had the coast so socked-in, we couldn’t see ahead to the next obstacles. We breaked only momentarily to take a few sips of water and then hurried away. Rob was dreaming of cold beer and hot pizza and wasn’t concentrating on his foot work. He slammed his shin into a rock and fell. He had a big lump on his shin and hobbled around after that. I had my own share of slips and slams but we made it through. As we came around a corner, a doe and her fawn stood in a cove licking at each other’s wet fur. They didn’t seem to mind that we were there as we watched them. Eventually, we came to raging Ellen Creek and had to walk across a giant slippery log. We made sure to unclip our chest and hip belts and took care with each step on the knotty bridge. By the time we got to hole-in-the-wall, the tide was getting high and we were cold, shivering and just wanted to be done with the whole thing. The doorway-like hole through the dome shaped rock enticed me to go look through, even though it would be a detour. I went up to it and curiosity led me all the way through, tottering along the edge around the corner as the surf pounded around my feet. The last few moves required us to watch the waves and step down while the wave pulled out and quickly get up on the other side before another would come slamming in. We both got wet, but managed to get onto the coast, only taking a few mushy steps in the ocean. We were so drenched it didn’t matter if our shoes got fully of water. As we finished out our trek, we saw more and more people in rain coats. Families and little kids were having a look at the stormy beach for a few moments before running back to their cars, parked close by in popular, Rialto Beach parking lot. We trudged on, quickly trying to ward off hypothermia and started down the road, desperate for warm, dry clothes. After walking half a mile or so on a narrow stretch, a crazy horn sounded from behind us. A nice old guy in waders told us to hop in the back of his tiny pick-up. The rain bit into our faces, but we were relieved to be moving quickly towards town. He dropped us off at a little store and restaurant and told us we could grab a bus there. We thanked him and he honked his crazy horn again as he drove away. We went inside for a cup of coffee and tried to warm up, meanwhile, we found out that we were at Three Rivers Camping Resort and we could rent a cabin for $90. It was perfect! We could hang our wet gear up to dry, do coin laundry, take as many hot showers as we wanted, drink cold beers, and nap on the most comfortable bed ever.  We spent the evening relaxing and recovering from our day in the rain and even rented a little DVD player thing to watch A River Runs Through it.

Day 7: Tuesday, Aug. 31

I slept so great in the little cabin, it was hard to get up this morning and figure out the bus schedule. We turned in our key and said goodbye to the little town of Mora. Standing on the corner, we talked with a nice gentleman who works as an EMT in Forks. We all caught the 14 into town and waited 3 hrs for the next bus. When the bus finally came, it took us out to a junction called Sappho and dropped us there. There was supposed to be a connecting bus heading towards Neah Bay, but to our luck, it was canceled that day and wouldn’t be coming for 4 hrs! We weren’t about to wait that long again, so we went on down the road, pounding pavement. 35 miles to Neah Bay and another 5 miles or so to the truck. We would have been walking for days if a nice guy with a camper and a boat hadn’t picked us up. We threw our packs into the boat and hopped in the cab. He was very curious and wanted to give us lots of career advice. He dumped us at Seiku because he was meeting a friend to fish there. We walked a ways longer and hitched a ride with a couple, married 39 years. The woman was full-blood Makah Indian and the man was Alaskan Indian. I enjoyed talking to them about how they met and all of their dogs while crammed in the back seat with Rob and our giant packs. We didn’t ask them to but they went right past their home in Neah Bay and all the way to our truck at the RV Park. They were very generous and thought nothing of it, going out of their way to help us strangers. After getting back to the truck, we drove into Port Angeles and got a cheap motel and some pizza for the night.

Day 8: Wednesday, Sep. 1

First thing in the morning, we went to the ranger station in to plan our next adventure, this time, in the Olympic Mountains. The ranger suggested that we head south to avoid Labor Day crowds and quota areas. We took their advice and planned a 6-night, 45-mile hike on the Skyline Trail, which traverses the mountainous backbone surrounding the Quinault River Valley. We could climb up to the Skyline Trail via the North Fork Rd.  and form a loop, up into the mountains, and then dropping down into the river valley and following it back to the trailhead. We spent most of the day resupplying and driving and car camped at the N. Fork campground for the night.

Day 9: Thursday, Sep. 2

The 1^st day on the trail was gradually uphill through a beautiful, lush rainforest. Nearly everything was green under the tree canopy. Ferns covered the ground and moss enveloped just about everything else. Huge downed trees had archways cut by the park crew, making it easy to pass underneath. After having lunch at an old bridge, we went up 2 miles of steady elevation and topped out in a field of blueberries and huckleberries. Although it was only about 7 miles to the first camp, I felt drained and lethargic from sweating so much. Rob had just read the sections of his book “Don’t Get Eaten” the night before about black bears and cougars. This berry field and meadow scene was perfect bear territory. We were sure to make noise as we went along and I made Rob wait up for me, just in case. We stopped and ate berries as soon as we noticed them, but soon realized they were everywhere along the trail and picked handfuls as we walked instead. When we rolled into camp at 3 Lakes, there was no one else there and we took our time exploring, setting up, and de-funking ourselves. Awhile later, a ranger came by and told us he was camping there as well. More folks started showing up as the evening went on and we got to know the ranger, Jim, over a swig of whiskey and a game of dice. He told us about his job, education, and his experience in Alaska. He was a pretty awesome dude and it was helpful to have him around when we had questions about anything. It got pretty cold that night and I was happy to have my ultra-warm sleeping bag.

Day 10: Friday, Sep. 3

We continued hiking from 3 Lakes toward the Skyline Trail. We had several options for a camp, depending on how far we thought we could get including 3 Prune and Kimta Peak. We started off down the trail quickly this morning and climbed uphill for about 1.5 miles until we spotted a lake that wasn’t on the map and decided we must have gone the wrong way. We went back; retracing our steps to the creek we’d passed just after our previous camp and realized we had been on the right track after all! We turned around; a bit disheartened, and walked the miles for the 3^rd time over, stopping in the meadow we saw the little lake in for lunch. The lake must have been seasonal or just not on the map. We climbed another mile and came into gorgeous alpine meadows filled with tiny lakes and berry bushes. Finally, we got a glimpse of the mountains we were heading for, the vistas getting better and better from there. Just after we passed the junction with Elip Creek Trail, we heard ambling in the brush and saw a bear run up the hill and climb a tree. We cautiously went on, making plenty of noise and saw another big bear (maybe 300 lbs.) dive over a hill just 30 yards away. I heard his heavy body thudding down the back of the hillside. For the rest of our hike, we chatted loudly until we reached a camp in a meadow full of bear scat…of course. We made sure to keep our food away in the bear cans and set up a tent in case the incoming clouds planned on raining. Rob read Indian legends as I gathered lots of berries to eat and we heard an elk buggeling somewhere in the valley. I am hoping to see a Roosevelt elk before we are out of the mountains.

Day 11: Saturday, Sep. 4

Day 3 in the mountains was amazing! We were heading up the side of a ridge from the moment we started our hike today. I’d never seen so many blueberries or huckleberries growing wild in my life! My fingers and lips were purple for days. After several hours of switch backing up hillsides and following the top of a ridge, we encountered a small bear hiding itself behind a tree a few feet above the trail. His cute little head poked out from behind and he watched us pass with curious eyes. It was the closest I’ve ever been to a bear. We had lunch in a beautiful basin, watching as dense clouds whirled in and out of the valley, hiding and exposing the mountains.  Tirelessly climbing hill after hill, we walked across exposed mountains where the views must have been excellent if the clouds hadn’t been surrounding us, socking us in and shrouding our scenery.  The terrain was rough, traversing up and down rocky slopes, over alpine meadows and around mountain cliffs. We dropped down hundreds of feet, 1 time more than 1,000 ft. and had to go back up each time. Sometimes the only thing marking the trail was rock cairns, stacked randomly among fields of similarly colored rocks. We used every last bit of energy to get through a burn area and up to the top of a jagged ridge, where we had a very rewarding view of all the peaks around. We made a camp in a bare spot in the rock, and boiled snow for drinking water. A huge, male mountain goat came right up the same trail we had and went right by our camp on the ridge. I was a little nervous that it would charge us and packed camp up in a hurry as we watched it come closer and closer. As the clouds came in, it veiled the goat and it disappeared with the fog a minute later. Mountain goats are extremely fast and skilled at traveling in the mountains! It was exciting to see such a big, powerful one right up close. I was able to get a picture of him right as he noticed us and ran towards our camp.

Day 12: Sunday, Sep. 5

We woke to pouring rain and wind aggressively flapping the tent. Our experience with rain on the coast made us weary, and we chose to wait it out and see what the weather would do as the day went on. We slept as long as we possibly could and soon realized our tent was getting swamped in an inch-deep pool of water. I felt the floor and my sleeping bag and discovered that the rain was soaking through the tent bottom. The tight fabric could no longer hold out the deepening puddle. We opted to get out and move the tent to higher ground, but after we were both in our rain gear, soaked and uncomfortable, we changed our minds and went for it. Quickly packing our things, we took note of the time, (nearly 2 pm) and charged in the rain.  We knew we couldn’t make it far but figured it was better to go a little ways, rather than have a huge day on Monday.  Today was the day of most difficult navigation, finding our route from cairn to cairn in the fog and heavy rain. It was challenging just to find bare ground to walk on, as rain flowed down the pearly white rocks in all directions. I struggled with stomach pain while Rob walked a ways in front of me, singing lyrics to all the cheesy rap songs he could remember to brighten the mood. I’m sure I wasn’t the most desirable company that day, silently stumbling along, grumbling about my aching gut and wet clothes, but Rob reminded me that we were having a great time and kept the goodness going. We made it a whopping 3 miles to Lake Beauty (where we had originally intended on being tonight anyway) and were more than ready to set up camp on the highest ground we could find. The lake was bigger than I had imagined and looked like a great swim spot on a warm day. All we could think about was getting warm and dry. As we tied up a tarp to sit under and threw up the muddy, soaked tent. Tension between us was ever-growing as we struggled to satisfy our own basic needs for warmth, shelter, food and water. Bickering turned into full-fledged fighting for awhile. We puttered around separately for an hour or so and said our sorries in time for taco night under our leaky tarp. It’s not far-fetched to assume that many of the couples we’d seen out on the trails were arguing today, blaming each other for causing the rain, walking too fast, following too slow, stinking up the tent, or just picking on one-another out of pure boredom. It isn’t easy to be nice when you’re miserable in close quarters and it’s very hard to take care of someone else in such conditions. It all works out in time as long as we remember that the elements that are out of our control are probably responsible for the stress. I try to think forward to a time when my memory of this storm will stick out like a sore thumb and I’ll recall it as a great time, an adventure, and I will long to go back and live through it again. Sore and wet, we hit the sack early, prayin’ for sun (or at least a lack of rain) tomorrow.

Day 13: Monday, Sep. 6

No rain drops on the tent this morning, just the quiet dripping from trees and sunrise mist in the mountains. I crawled out of the tent, relieved to see the separation between high and low clouds, hopeful that the gap of bluish sky would widen and the sun might pop out for awhile. As we enjoyed a bowl-o-instant coffee and got ready to break camp, the fog disappeared and unveiled glorious rugged mountain scenery. The lake lit up with teal-blue and we could see all the way to the bottom. We took our time, enjoying a moment in the surreal beauty of the Olympics while we could see it. We readied our rain gear and kept our ponchos on top of our packs. I couldn’t get The Big Rock Candy Mountains song out of my head as we contoured around steep rocky slopes and had fun making up my own lyrics to it, specific to the Olympics. When we stopped to fill our water bottles in a field of wildflowers, the weather turned, and once again, we ponchoed-up for rain, this time, a gentler, more tolerable mist. As we passed through the lovely Seattle Basin, we spotted a fairly big black bear mowing on blueberries up the hill. He didn’t seem to care much about us being there and probably had seen several other hikers passing through before us. Rob whistled, got his attention, and snapped a great photo. We made a long zigzagging descent down switchbacks on the east side of Mt. Seattle and sloshed through mud as we got lower into the Quinault Valley. That night, we camped at Low Divide, near an unstaffed ranger station and Rob made a fire to get us warm. I did my best to “roast” my socks dry with a forked stick and eventually dried my only pants to a lovely damp and itchy texture for the night. I wished my sleeping bag would dry, but was happy to have a warm body next to me to help bring the temp. up a notch.

Day 14: Tuesday, Sep. 7

From Low Divide on, the trail back was very easy. Through a jungle of green rainforest,  the path was mostly all flat or  sloped slightly downhill, making it effortless to cruise along at 3 miles per hour, only stopping to admire mushrooms or dew-covered plants. After 9 miles or so, we heard a chopper overhead and wondered if they were looking for someone out here.  We soon passed a trail crew who were building a new bridge and discovered that they were using the chopper to air-drop supplies. We camped in a tiny site right off the trail after Elip Creek.

Day 15: Wednesday, Sep. 8

Today we walked the rest of the way out (about 6 miles). The weather was overcast with light showers throughout the afternoon. We had to walk .7 miles on a paved road for the last part and passed lots of people on the way. It was still early in the day so we decided to drive into Ocean Shores to check out the coast 1 more time and get some good seafood. We got a room at the Quality Inn with a Jacuzzi and accidently overflowed the thing with suds. Oops! We asked the lady at the front desk where the best place to get seafood dinner and she immediately responded “MIKES”. So we headed there, a local fish and seafood market in front, and restaurant in the back. I had the best steamer clams I’ve ever had a Rob ate a whole crab, picked right out of the tank. It was the perfect birthday gift!

Olympic National Park

A trip of a lifetime- 2 weeks in the Olympics

Indian Heaven Wilderness

Out with the girls! I finally got to take my twin sister Kayla and my best friend growing up, Breanna out on a trip with me. I was so excited to have the privilege of their company as I checked out the beautiful Indian Heaven Wilderness in SW Washington. I got to be the girls’ guide on their first-ever backpacking trip and share the experience with two of my favorite ladies in the entire world! I pushed them hard but they responded wonderfully and hopefully they will have a lifetime love of the wilderness for the rest of their lives. Some of the most powerful, life-altering moments of my existence have been out backpacking and I hope they will have a passion for exploring just like I do.

We took off on a Saturday afternoon towards Cascade Locks and paid the toll to go over the Bridge of the Gods. Bre was very kind to drive her spacious Pathfinder all the way there, probably the most comfortable ride I’ve ever taken to a trailhead! We passed through the little town of Carson, which was busy with people on the streets getting ready for some kind of parade and eventually parked at Cultus Lake trailhead, a busy car camping scene with a little sign for Indian Heaven at the end of the lot. Full of anticipation, we took off with a steep start to climb into the high country. The girls didn’t have much time to warm up before we were trudging, sweaty, and working hard how backpackers do. I told them “backpacking isn’t about fun, it’s about blood….sweat….tears….and endurance!” (Of course I was kidding- somewhat). They may have been worn out by the time we reached our first view-point, but got a second wind as the mosquitos began to make themselves known. From our vantage, we could see Sawtooth Mountain, Mt. Rainier, Goat Rocks and Mt. Adams from left to right, with Adams in the forefront. After that, the terrain began to level out and the rest of the trip had minimal elevation change. Passing lake after lake, and stopping at some to cool off or take breaks, we made our way to Blue Lake. Leading the girls- I must have taken a wrong turn near Junction Lake and took them on an off-trail adventure around a butte and through several open, grassy meadows with many water trenches or old, unmaintained trails. I whipped out the compass and decided we should just shoot a bearing and head South. We finally came to a sign on a tree that listed the way we came from as “unmaintained” and pointed us in the right direction to Blue Lake. It wasn’t the best choice to go there, but who was to know it was a popular lake for family camping and all of the designated sites were filled? We dropped our packs and I went on a search for somewhere to camp. I had pushed the girls several miles past where I had originally planned for the first day and it was definitely time to rest. I wandered around several smaller pond-like lakes behind big, deep Blue Lake and eventually came across an unoccupied camp, down a steep rocky trail, probably unknown to most of the weekend warriors. I quickly jaunted back and we rushed back to get my pack and the girls and we hurried to claim the spot I’d found for us. It was perfect. Deep in the woods, far enough from the rest of the people that we couldn’t hear a thing. We had a great fire that night and made teriaki noodles with chicken for dinner. I’m getting better and better at thinking up one-pot meals to impress my friends. Unfortunately Bre wasn’t feeling too well, probably because of dehydration and had a migraine for the evening. She was a trooper and tried to enjoy her night as we slept out in the open air. The following day, we planned to hike about 5 miles to Wood Lake, but when we stopped at Bear Lake, right off of the PCT, we just had to stay. We found such a great campsite on the end of a little forested “peninsula” with a little sandy beach on it that we decided to spend the day swimming, sun bathing, making an improvised fishing pole, and playing cards and dice games. Surprisingly, we had the huge lake all to ourselves. The last day was an easy  2 mile climb up to a low pass and was mostly downhill after that for another 2 miles. Birds in camp woke us up early (about 63o am) and we got on the trail by 730, ending our trek early in the afternoon and leaving plenty of time for picking huckleberries on the way out and for a nice stop off at a restaurant in Cascade Locks.

Indian Heaven is the best place I can imagine to take someone for their first backpacking trip. The trails are gentle and well-maintained, huckleberries rim every lake, and the features are endless. You cannot walk half a mile without coming across a stunning lake, a great view, or a beautiful sub-alpine meadow. I can’t wait to go there again or to take my girlfriends out more!

Mt. Saint Helens

A couple of weeks ago I have the opportunity to spend 3 hot August days backpacking on and around Mt. Saint Helens with my boyfriend Rob, friend Shane, and our dog Dakini. After a couple of hours of sleeping and wrestling with the dog in the jangling, windy back of a pickup truck, Rob opened the tailgate and propped up the window with a 2×4. “Wake up! We’re here!” I rambled over gear and packs and regained consciousness as I put my feet on the ground at June Lake trailhead. We made our final adjustments, checked our map and took off for a mid-week walk in the mountains. The first leg of the hike was easy, meandering through woods on a high-use, packed dirt trail. 1.4 miles in, we arrived at June Lake, a medium-sized shallow pool in a clearing, filled with burgundy reeds and algae. A waterfall across the lake cascaded down mossy rocks, making an inviting shower for a dusty hiker on the return hike. We didn’t spend much time here as we were just getting started and had a lot of miles to go before our intended camp at Toutle Creek.  I guess we took a wrong turn from the lake and instead of following a trail, ended up blazing our own way over rugged boulder fields. Hopping from rock to rock was precarious with a fully loaded pack on and it became a guessing game when some of the rocks, even the large ones, would roll under my weight or pockets of ash would cave right under my feet. It was fun watching my crew hobbling over the unstable terrain, letting out strange yelps when they came close to falling. The possibility of injury is very real when trying to traverse the rock fields and giant, dusty washouts on St. Helens. I’d advise high-top boots for it to keep ankles from rolling and sand out of your socks. After several hours of off-trail rock hopping, we met up with the Loowit Trail above the tree line and could then follow markers embedded in the boulders. This made things a lot easier, since the rocks were generally flatter, more stable, and more level from previous foot traffic. We talked with a ranger briefly as we passed our last water source for awhile and began climbing a steep trail up to a ridge at the top of which was a climber’s bivy. Lugging our packs up the steep dirt trail was tiring and Shane and I took breathing breaks while Rob and Dakini led the way far ahead of us. Rob saw an elk run up through the brush but it was gone before the rest of us could get a look at it.We stopped for lunch when we came to an opening in the trees where we could look down across the wilderness around the base of the mountain. I spotted Mt. Adams in the distance and wondered how far it was between the mountains.

We scrambled across wide-open meadows, windy rock fields, and up and down washout after washout. The wind was exhilarating as it hit with full force and tried to push my over as I leapt from one volcanic chunk to another. By the time we reached the trailhead to Camp Butte, we were getting worn out and contemplating whether or not we could make it all the way around the mountain in  3 days. It was already 4pm and we had nearly 6 miles before we’d reach the Toutle. We traversed several more giant washouts, forcing us to lose hundreds of feet up elevation, slide down the steep and trailless canyon side, brush off, shake the rocks out of our pants, and immediately climb back up the other side. Every step forward I took, I slid back 2. By the time we got to the top of one, we’d hike a couple hundred yards and find another enormous barren canyon in our path. At 7pm we had traveled close to 11 miles and were willing to camp just about anywhere. Because water sources were scarce and the maps’ indications for water were unreliable, I carried 4 liters of water the entire way! (That’s about 16 pounds of water only!). Just when we were about to give up on finding a water source, we found a stand of greenery in an otherwise barren draw full of small washouts. We explored the area and found a pool of clear water with a creek pouring out of it. It was perfect. We called this place the amphitheater camp because of the huge semicircular wall encasing the draw. As dusk came, I began to feel like I was being watched from above by cougars, bears or mountain goats. It was an amazingly starry night, far away from light pollution and we saw endless shooting stars as we laid under the night sky. Later, I discovered there had been a meteor shower that night. The next morning, we had a discussion and came to the agreement that we would turn back and explore some other parts of the mountain instead of trying to circumnavigate the entire mountain. Rob was a bit dissatisfied with this because he’d been to St. Helens several times without going around it, but went along with Shane’s and my choice to return the way we came with a side trip to Butte Camp. I was concerned with our trail movement as a group and knew that if we had tried to complete the loop we’d be hurting, stretched to the absolute limit and not very happy. Hiking 10+ miles in a day is one thing, but hiking up and down 10 miles worth or steep, up-and down dusty washouts through waterless, barren land is another. We’d either be desperate to find camps at night or be stuck out there for an extra night- which we could not afford. All of us had to be back Saturday morning for jobs and other obligations. We packed up and headed out, back over the washes, through the meadows and over the rock beds. We spent a whole day relaxing in the lush valley of Butte Camp, following game trails full of elk, bear, and deer prints and  fresh scat. This place was very popular with wildlife because it was probably one of the only reliable water sources for miles. We cooked an elaborate meal of hot and sour soup with veggies and enjoyed a few rounds of Yatzee over a flask of whiskey by the campfire. Friday morning we finished our hike back on the actual trail down to June Lake. At the lake, we washed off in the cool water and talked to a couple who had encountered a small black bear about 3/4 of a mile from the trailhead where our truck was parked. We thanked the for the tip and made lots of noise as we passed through that section of trail. Without seeing a bear or any wildlife at all, we arrived back at the parking lot which was now full of cars. I was glad to be leaving before the place was riddled with weekend warriors. Overall, my experience visiting Mt. Saint Helens was awesome. I learned a lot about perseverance, negotiating and decision-making. I would love to go back and attempt to  circle the mountain again but with 1 or 2 more days time. The eruption has completely transformed the mountain and the experience a hiker will have traversing it. I highly recommend this trip to those with at least intermediate navigation skills and who are in good shape.

Adventures Without Limits

As many of you know, I am also working for a great company  called Adventures Without Limits. I started volunteering as a trip leader there last year and was lucky to get hired on for the summer. We lead all kinds of guided outdoor adventure trips for people of all different ages, abilities and skill levels with the intent of fostering self-confidence, personal growth and independance.

This summer has been extremely busy, challenging and exciting! Most of the staff has been working full-time to facilitate 2 different day camps simultaneously: CBAP (Community Based Activities Program), elementary school students, and Summer Success for at-risk middle-schoolers. I have spent more time than ever before working with kids, spreading my love for the outdoors, and doing what I went to school to do; be an outdoor leader. I can’t believe how much I’ve learned about leading in such a short amount of time! It’s hard to express how rewarding this job has been for me and hopefully for the people we’ve worked with as well.  As a kid, I never imagined how having  fun outside could be an occupation or that by doing it I could be making a real difference in real people’s lives. I am convinced that personal contact, humor and having a connection with nature are the keys to a happy life.

My summer with AWL went by very quickly and I will be sad to say goodbye to all the kids I’ve been working with. They have taught me just as much as I’ve taught them. I am, however; very excited for the month to come as I roll around ideas and contemplate the endless possibilities for hiking August away.

If you are interested in reading more about AWL go to: http://www.awloutdoors.com/

Keep checkin in to see pictures of my adventures with AWL soon.

Words from Virginia (The Person, Not the State):

Words from Virginia (The Person, Not the State):

I was very excited to have the opportunity to go on a 5-day trek with Heather into the Bull of the Woods Wilderness. Because I spend most of my time in the “electronic jungle”, it’s always a great feeling get out and spend quality time in nature, take in the sights, sounds, wildlife, and history (both natural and man made).

There were so many different choices to choose from when entering this huge wilderness that both Heather and I contemplated exactly where we were going to start. Fortunately, the ultimate choice came easy and we decided to start at Elk Lake Creek Trailhead. As is the case with most of my backpacking trips, there is always excitement of entering the unknown, and this was no exception! What a beautiful area!

Right from the start, we entered a beautiful, old-growth forest, crossed by lots of small streams, all while following the clear and pristine waters of Elk Lake Creek. The first day of hiking was a good one, filled with many sights, old-growth trees, lots of rhododendrons and other vegetation, rock slides, tons of mosquitoes, and the old Bull of the Woods lookout. Yes, the mosquitoes ate us for dinner, but we are outdoor ladies, so we made the best of it!

The views from the lookout were amazing! We could see Mt. Jefferson, The Sisters’ Mtns, Mt. Hood, Mt. Adams, and Mt. St. Helens. This is where Heather got a great shot of me laying atop the lookout. The photos were just before our spicy and savory hot curry rice and bean dinner. …Good stuff when the night gets a little chilly!

After dinner, and before bed, Heather consulted the map.

While we graciously enjoyed our night’s stay in the lookout (along with our small rat companion), we woke anew to a beautiful sunrise overlooking the splendor of the mountains.

Our next day (2) took us down from the lookout past Mother Lode Mtn and then on towards Twin Lakes, coming to stop alongside Silver King Mtn. This was one of my favorite days (although it’s hard to pick a favorite).

It was so hot on day 2 that I was ready to jump into just about any water source we saw…and that’s no joke! The small microclimates here just boggled my mind. One minute, we were deep in a heavily forested area, and then suddenly, the forest opened up into rock crags, pine forest, and views of the surrounding mountains that were just amazing.

We made it to the upper Twin Lake just after lunchtime, and we decided to take a swim. Lying on the shore of this beautiful lake felt like heaven. I could have stayed there for the next three days. The water in the lake is so clear that you can see to the bottom. From above, it’s a beautiful aquamarine color that looks like it is fed by the purest of glaciers. From the side of the lake, it is so clear and clean and inviting, you just feel a need to dive in! And, we did.

Although I tried to get Heather to stay at Twin Lakes for the next 3 days, she reminded me that we were trying to complete a 40-mile loop, so, I managed to peel myself off the ground, and put on my clothes (no, I wasn’t naked, just mostly). We ate some of our tasty snacks, and we trekked on towards Silver King Mtn.

We spent the evening eating our savory Beef Stew (thank you Mountain House). The mosquitoes were still enjoying hanging around us so much that we thought it would be best to kindly dismiss ourselves as their dinner for the night. So, we set off into Heather’s cool Big Agnes Seed tent. I have to say that the net of the tent was a welcome break from our mosquito companions, so we played Rummy! And, Heather won. Yes, Heather won. I know this may be a shock to some of you who know me, but the girl just plain beat me. Enough said.

From this point forward, I will now refer to Heather as Heat: 1) because it is shorter and 2) it just sounds so cool! (p.s. – Thanks Bryan.)

So we slept until the morning, and I woke up and Heat was already mostly packed. Man, that girl is fast, a total pro. And then, Heat consulted the map.

For day 3 (day of the ‘Fro), we headed west towards Whetstone Mtn. and then cut south towards Battle Axe Mtn, with a detour to the Opal Creek Wilderness towards Jawbone Flats. Are you confused? So was I, but we had a map…and Heat consulted it! (Okay, I consulted it too, but I want to give her all the credit.)

This area was so cool! More time in the forest, following another pristine creek, surrounded by tons of wildflowers, and then on towards Jawbone Flats. There is a ton of history around Jawbone Flats, and for anyone interested in the history of Oregon, I highly recommend making a trek here! There are lots of old road washouts, mining shafts, a mining camp, and the Opal Pool. Put this one on your map, because you will enjoy, I promise!

After we got our fill of the Pool and mining equipment, we doubled back along the old forest road towards Battle Axe Mtn, and found a totally awesome waterfall that looked like something you would find in National Geographic. We soaked up the beauty of the water and the woods and decided to find a well hidden camp for the night. Heat made a “spider fire”, and we enjoyed watching its legs burn. (This was a virtual fire and no animals or insects were harmed while burning.) We then ate Buffalo Chicken and cheese tortillas, yummy!

The mosquitoes finally left us or lost us (thank you Jungle Juice). So, it was Yahtzee by the campfire. Yes, Heat played Yahtzee with me. Guess what? She won, again. Just where is my competitive spirit in the woods?

By the end of day 3, I was hobbling very well. Heat told me so, very politely I might add. But, by the next day, I was rejuvenated by a good night’s sleep, and we were off on day 4 towards Battle Axe Mtn. Not only is the name cool, but so is the trail and the remains of the lookout. We dropped our packs at the base of the mountain and decided to head up to the old lookout for some great views of Elk Lake and the surrounding mountains. This was one heck of a climb, but well worth it! We were rewarded with some tasty snacks and great views, once again!

After we got our fill of great views, we headed down the mountain back towards Elk Lake, and yes, we were starting to get a little tired. Just after the lake, we found the worlds smallest spring, got some great drinking water, and then bounced back to life and followed the Elk Lake Creek trail back towards our entry point. Overall, I think this was the longest day on our legs, and it was phenomenal! By day 4, I was so happy to be out here, I began to wonder if I would ever be ready to go back. (p.s. – I love to work in the electronic jungle, but time in the woods is fantastic!)

For our last night in the woods, we made it to camp late. We spent our last night on the creek, and ate some of the best-tasting pasta I’ve had in my life, ala Heat. While I think we would both have enjoyed playing a game of Yahtzee or Rummy (for which Heat would have probably won again), we were just too darned tired to play, so it was sleepy time just after dinner. Ahhh!

The next morning, we woke up, and started to head out of Bull of the Woods to connect up with the trail that we came in on. I will call this “the trail less traveled”. But, much of the trail was overgrown with fantastic rhododendrons, so there are no complaints. …If you want to feel like you’re the first person in the wilderness, this is the trail to be on. We were some of the first people to go this way in a very long time. (At least, that’s what it seemed like.)

We crossed the creek at least 4 times, and I got some great pics of Heat playing in the water! We loved it, and I’m sure you would too! After our last day of fun in the woods, we made it back to the car safely and on time…and all of my car windows were still intact!

There were (at least) four things I learned on this trip: 1) Heat consults the map very regularly (and I thank her for that), 2) Jetboils totally rock, 3) great water filters (Katadyn-pro water) make life fantastic in the woods, and 4) if you want to have a great and safe time in the woods, you go with this lady!

Heat, you totally ROCK!!! Thank you for letting me play in the woods with you! Climb on, Hikin’ lady!

Bull-o-Woods Pictures

Got new photos and plenty of ‘em. Check it out if you’ve got time!

-Happy viewing-

Bull of the Woods & Opal Creek Wilderness Loop

5 days, 4 nights

Partner: Virginia Stone (aka Stone Fox)

Day 1: Elk Lake Creek to Lookout- 7 miles

Day 2: Lookout to Silver King Lake camp- 9.9 miles

Day 3: Silver King Lake camp to Battle Ax Creek camp w/side trip to Opal Pool- 12.1 miles

Day 4: Battle Ax Creek camp to Elk Lake Creek camp w/ side trip up Battle Ax Mt.: 13 miles

Day 5: Elk Lake Creek camp & out (Elk Lk. Creek TH): 4.9 miles

Total: 46.9 miles

Day 1- Elk Lake Creek TH to Bull of the Woods Lookout

Having a late start of nearly 2pm, we were eager to start our escapade and delve into the deep wilderness with fresh energy.  Two red heads shot from a cannon, the first few miles of well-maintained trail flew by easily for us. Traversing on a hillside, we passed several babbling creek inlets, huge old growth trees and caught glimpses of the deep and clear Elk Lake Creek as it cascaded into waterfalls and pools below. As we came to our first trail junction and began to climb sometimes steep switchbacks, the pace developed into a sluggish 1 mile per hour and we started to feel our heavy packs breaking us in. The thickening brush covering the trail and several encounters with spiders forced me to use my trekking pole and fencing skills to skim the eye-level foliage ahead in an attempt to decrease the number of web-to-face incidents while bush-whacking. When we finally felt the land begin to ease up and flatten out a bit, there was no need to look at the map to tell there was a lake about a mile ahead. The ever-growing cloud of mosquitoes made the presence of water obvious as we swatted our way through. I’ve never felt more raw or irritable than I did under the influence of mosquito terror. They bite from every angle, 30 or 40 at a time, making a hiker almost frantic to find shelter or find a remedy to the situation. Under attack, we definitely picked up the pace and decided to bypass “Welcome Lakes” (which is noted for its bad bugs during July) and head for the lookout instead. It would mean a late night and a lot more elevation change but if we made it, we could possibly find shelter from the bugs and not have to hang a bear bag for the night. The lookout is abandoned most of the year and only staffed during periods of extreme fire danger, but it is accessible for hikers to enjoy its authoritative view of the surrounding mountains. Around 8pm we finally arrived at the top of Bull of the Woods Mountain where we found the lookout already occupied by a couple. Tired and still somewhat frantic from the bugs, I called up to them and asked if we could come up and enjoy the view. They were more than polite and willing to share the deck. Virginia and I climbed the rickety wooden staircase up to the wrap-around deck and introduced ourselves to our fellow hikers who turned out to be from Portland as well. The view from the lookout was breathtaking, especially of Mt. Jefferson, not far to the east. We had arrived just in time to watch the sun setting, radiating an orange glow over the many snow-capped peaks in all directions. Getting to camp there instead of a popular, infested Welcome Lake, was well worth the extra effort .To our relief, the mosquitoes didn’t bother us when we got high enough off the ground and the other hikers had made camp at a nearby lake and didn’t plan on staying in the lookout. In fact, they told us that they had tried, but couldn’t find a way in to look inside. As they packed up to go, Virginia and I did some poking around of our own and noticed that all you had to do was unlatch an ancient-looking lock and chain contraption keeping the door and windows covered by heavy shutters. We lifted an old wooden panel that seemed to weigh 100 pounds, and found the door unlocked. All of us went in and checked out the lookout’s interior, which is pretty much empty with some stacked wood and cedar shingles for a future renovation project and some food and supplies for workers. I figured out that the washers and bolts on the window sill were intended to be used as fasteners to keep the shutters up so we could get in and out of the doorway and see out of some of the windows. It took some creativity and team work to figure out how to hold the mammoth shutter high enough to thread the giant screws through the holes in the wood and secure them with a few bolts on the under side. It was a little sketchy, standing on an old stepladder on the narrow deck, next to an unsound, waist-high railing holding an enormous board high over your head while Virginia stood on her tip-toes to fasten the washers and bolts to the screws, but all went well and the lookout was open. The shutters then loomed threateningly over the deck, hanging from janky, rustic trusses. A bit of work, and the lookout became our home away from home; our first camp, and hosted a great night of memories. Though we didn’t sleep much due to the reoccurring noises of live-in rodents, we awoke to a beautiful morning with blue skies and sun shining through the windows.

Day 2- Lookout to Silver King Lake camp

Coffee, map check, and a few good stretches and we said goodbye to the lovely lookout and headed out to find our next destination: Twin Lakes. Returning to the trail down .7 miles of switchbacks, we came to the trail junction and continued west along the side of a ridge. Passing a trail dropping to Pansy Lake, we turned south and descended through striking forests and across Mother Lode Creek. 5 miles of ups and downs through huge fir trees lead us to the path to Twin Lakes; a mostly viewless route going past two tiny ponds (which we thought were the lakes at first), and over several rock slides that sounded like glass bottles clanking together under our feet. We finally got to Upper Twin Lake, hot and sweaty, feet throbbing and close to blistering from the long plunge down.  It must have been close to 90 degrees! We scouted for the best beach-like shore on the lake and took a much needed long lunch by the blue-green water. This was a miraculously mosquito-free part of our day and we took full advantage by taking a dip in the lake and laying out in the sunshine. Once we had our fill of relaxation, we pried ourselves away from paradise and climbed out of the lake basin to a ridge blooming with rhododendrons. Feeling extremely spent and exhausted by the heat, we traversed below the western slopes of Silver King Mountain. A small spring along the side of the trail was a good spot to take a break and reassess our bearings. Having set high standards for ourselves and our abilities to cover mileage, our intended camp was still 4 miles away, but the options were endless because we had so much time left to complete our loop. We settled on camping at the top of the scenic ridge, just above Silver King Lake. We passed a few camps where people on the trail to Bagby hotsprings had built fire rings, and decided to enjoy a longer evening around a small campfire instead of pushing on to Whetstone Mountain or plummeting hundreds of feet in elevation to see Silver King Lake that would inevitably be home to swarms of vampire bugs. In many of our camps, particularly this one, hanging a bear bag was difficult due to the lack of tree with large branches. Most of the trees were Hemlocks up on the ridges and had thin, downward sloping branches, not suitable for supporting a 20 pound bag tied to a line. With some experimentation (and some frustration), we finally found an old snag that would do the trick and got our food safely hoisted up and out of reach from black bears, cougars, coyote and all the menacing little critters that chew holes in everything. By dusk, the mosquitoes returned, and drove us so crazy, we moved our party into the tiny two-man tent for a game of Rummy and some hard-earned swigs of vanilla vodka Virginia had, so kindly, brought along. We slept quite well and were able to keep and eye on the sparkling stars all night without a rain fly on the tent.

Day 3- Silver King Lake camp to Battle Ax Creek camp w/side trip to Opal Pool

For the morning, we traveled straight along a beautiful ridge with lots of flowers and open views. There were many opportunities to whip out Virginia’s monocular and check out distant tree-covered peaks across the wilderness like Beachie Mt. and Battle Ax Mt., which we would later be standing on top of. When we came to a saddle, we began to drop elevation to where a trail came up from the south and goes straight through dense undergrowth of blooming pink rhododendrons.  Much of this section of trail was very wild and unkept, but we were becoming accustomed to moving through it, using an extended arm or trekking pole to clear the immediate path in front of us. After 2.5 miles, we took the shorter trail down to Battle Ax Creek, deciding to skip the climb up to the former lookout site atop Whetstone Mt. and save our knees from the steep, and rarely-used trail that descends 2,800 feet on the other side. Instead we took a gentler trail, slinking down a more gradual 1,700 feet to a chilling crossing of Battle Ax Creek. I lost my footing in the thigh-high, quickly moving current during this ford and fell in for a quick, refreshing second or two. Luckily, my pack held the water out and my gear was nice and dry. We took some time to take in the beauty of the clear, cascading creek and soak our feet. When we had fixed our mangled foot tape and loaded up with fresh water, we kept on to enter the Opal Creek  Scenic Recreation Area. Hiking up an abandoned jeep road toward an old mining camp called Jawbone Flats, we explored the remains of an old mine, apparently named Ruth by a sign on the welded bars, keeping people like us out of the dangerous mine shaft. A short side-trip took us to gorgeous and Opal Pool, where waterfalls spill into a deep, clear pool with colored rocks lining the bottom. Enormous cedar trees and small waterfalls are everywhere in this area! If we had had one more day to dilly dally, this would’ve made an awesome place to camp.

My mood was shifting and it was obvious. I was getting worn out and feeling lethargic from a lack of sugar in my blood, not wanting to tap into the last of my ever-dwindling food supply. I had lost my credit card the night before the trip and was unable to buy any food supplies before I left. Instead I brought leftovers from previous trips and scrounged around my house for anything I could bring to feed myself. I made an aweful choice before the trip, pre-making pb & j tortillas and storing them all together in a zip-lock. By the end of day 1, the whole thing was a disgusting wad of mush that makes me gag to this day! It looked like some kind of slimy organ and weighed at least pounds. I couldn’t bring myself to stomach the thing no matter how hungry I was. Unfortunately, what I managed to scrounge was not enough and I was grateful to have such a generous and prepared hiking partner who was more than willing to share her interesting backpacker snacks with me, like energizing jelly beans and packets of honey. Pushing ourselves hard to carry us over rugged terrain, up and down mountains, food is an important tool and essential to fuel the body. I am constantly learning from my mistakes on trips and each lesson helps me become more and more dialed in with my gear packing, route-finding skills, and problem-solving abilities.

We turned around after Opal Pool and headed back up a steep gravel road, back into Bull of the Woods, and continued on a trail following Battle Ax Creek in the opposite direction. Climbing gradually up a heavily forested valley, we stumbled upon a beautiful unnamed pair of waterfalls, which we heard in the distance and had to go check out (well worth the bushwhacking). Wild wonders like these are what bring me to wander out to these hard-to-reach places. A few minutes there completely renewed my energy and zest for the trip and gave me a second wind. Pulling ourselves away after a quick rest, we continued up trail a few miles to find a random camp just off the road. Our feet needed to stop after 12 miles of lugging a load. That night, we made another campfire and Virginia played her first ever game of Yatzee! Mosquitoes were unrelenting but we learned to adapt by swearing not to mention them and holding as still as possible. The more they got to me, the more I got their attention it seemed, so I ignored them and they seemed to go away.

Day 4- Battle Ax Creek camp to Elk Lake Creek camp w/ side trip up Battle Ax Mt.

Stiff and sore, we broke out of camp 3 by 11am and meandered up a somewhat lame gravel path to where it tops out at Beachie Saddle. Along the way, we ran into an older couple who told us they thought they might have to kill us as we were coming around the corner and quickly turned the conversation, telling us how lovely Battle Ax is and recommended a loop route up to the top and around the back. Feeling a little awkward, we took their advice and traveled along the base of the mountain about .7 miles, dropped our packs in the brush and headed back to the Battle Ax Mt. trailhead with light day packs on. Feeling very free and unencumbered by heavy packs, we made our way up steep switchbacks to the summit of Battle Ax with its basalt rock gardens and awesome views of distant mountains, Elk Lake, and the surrounding wilderness. We looked back across the Bull of the Woods to the Ridge we had stood on the previous day. It’s an incredible feeling to be so tiny on top of a peak and to realize that I’ve walked all around in the wilderness I can see before me. I have seen so much, yet I’ve seen so little of what there is out there. We came down the back side of the ridge and made a long and steep descent down the west side of the slope, passing two large, muddy springs that washed out parts of the trail. As we got closer to the place we’d dropped our packs, we could see huge Elk Lake next to us. Virginia thought it looked like a giant sasquatch footprint in the earth. Once we had retrieved our packs and loaded up our gear again, I was beat. The high use campground at Elk Lake was extremely tempting, but we pushed by, wanting to shorten the last days’ mileage for an easy “out day”. Slogging along in the last hours of daylight with battered feet and pleading bodies, we managed to travel about 4 more miles to a great camp where there is a trail junction and the confluence of Battle and Elk Lake creeks. We were so relieved to find a camp by 9pm, the group of ten-year-old campers nearby hardly phased us.

Day 5- Elk Lake Creek camp & out

Energy was high on the last day, with good sleep, a good breakfast and bodies that were beginning to adapt and accept trail life, we had no problems stomping out the remaining 4.9 miles. We followed Elk Lake Creek as it wandered lazily through mixed old and new growth forests and saw some of the most beautiful and enticing private swimming holes in Oregon (Douglas Lorain). Clear streams poured into deep aqua-marine pools over and over again. Although tempting, we did not stop for a swim because we had so many chilly wades through the creeks on the way out. The last miles flew by all too quickly and we were back to the car before we knew it.

Bumped and bruised, ragged, dirty, hairy and stinking,

I emerge from the wilderness feeling beautiful and clean.

Although I am eager to get home and shower, I savor the last moments at the trailhead

In sweaty clothes, I’ve worked hard to soak. I look at the dirt under my fingernails

And the blisters on my feet and recall the amazing things I’ve done and the places

I’ve carried myself to. I am proud of my strength, yet humbled by the power wilderness.

I resist the urge to scratch my nagging insect bites and am grateful to be out of their reach.

I look like a wild mountain woman, a vagabond,

but I feel small and fragile under the influence of nature.

I am a helpless human, uselessly longing for creature comforts of civilization.

Being grimy, battered and absent of the need for vanity, shapes me into who I am.

I am a wanderer, a student, a woman working hard.

I LIKE IT!

Black Canyon Wilderness photos

Latest and Greatest

Hey Ya’ll, just got back from another trip in central Oregon’s Black Canyon Wilderness. I couldn’t have chosen a better time to visit the canyon, with plentiful creeks and streams and an abundance of wildflowers and greenery. The weather cooperated for the most part with sunshine Thursday and Friday and some building thunder showers during the climb out on Saturday.

My hiking partner Jocelyn was very knowledgeable about the local flora and fauna, weather patterns, burns, trail design/maintenance and just about everything! I was very fortunate to have someone with her experience along with me. Jocelyn was a wilderness guard in the Mt. Jefferson area for several years and also fought wild fires for the National Forest in years past. Her enthusiasm for backpacking and dedication to protecting what’s wild greatly inspired me to keep learning new things and to be more proactive about trail maintenance myself.

On our trip, we saw antelope, blue birds, ravens, red tail hawks, deer, ground squirrels, and even a rattle snake! Jocelyn stumbled upon the rattler while we were out on a “day hike” after making camp on the 2nd evening. It was coiled in the middle of the trail, 2 feet ahead of her with me behind. It rattled and she turned around. “Rattler…rattler! Go back,” she said. We didn’t feel like trying to get around him and hey, it was more exciting than seeing the John Day anyhow so we left it at that and returned to camp, watching every step diligently along the way.

I had the privaledge of witnessing the beauty and power of a truly remote wilderness once again. Each trip teaches me different things about life, myself, and my place in the natural world. I’m quite sure, I’ll always have vivid memories of these places and my hiking experiences until the end of my days, long after I have forgotten everything else. I’m getting the best education I could ever want just by walking down trails, across meadows, through creeks, over logs and under trees.

I’m still figuring out the ending logistics of the trip, calculating the mileage, elevation gain, and all that jazz, and I’ll post it asap and fill you in on all the details about my Black Canyon Wilderness hike. Keep following my blog weekly for picture updates and a glimpse into the wild places I’ve been living.

Cheers to all the good stuff in life! (happy Father’s Day to all the dads!)