Elevation Gain: Approximately 3000 ft.
Time: 8:50 am - 5:00 pm
Weather: Partly cloudy, sunny in the morning, turning overcast and sprinkling at the end of the hike.
I was up for some distance but not the driving variety. Using the Hike Finder map on wta.org, I found a 15 mile hike to the Flapjack Lakes in the Olympic National Park from the Staircase trailhead. I decided to get up relatively early and do it.
I woke up at 6:15 am and was on the road, packed and gassed up, by 7:05 am. Made great time getting to the trailhead at 8:40 am. I geared up (gaiters and strapped snowshoes to the pack) and went on with the hike.
I immediately fell in love with the trail. I don't know what it was, maybe the wide trail or the easy grade or the sun rays beating on my back. Either way, I was loving it and already was daydreaming of coming back in the summer. After about 30 minutes the trail did start to climb a bit steeper, but I was feeling great and was keeping a steady pace.
By 10:00 am, I was 4 miles up the trail at the junction to turn off to the Flapjack Lakes. I drank some water, then got a move on. Still feeling good, this trail was a bit steeper, but my pace only slowed slightly. After only 5 or 6 switchbacks, the trail hugs the west side of a peak and slowly climbs. At 10:40 am, I hit Madeline Creek, about 6 miles from the trailhead. I was stoked, I was going to try and be at the lake by 11:20. Seven and half to eight miles in two and a half hours, oh yeah!
After Madeline Creek, the trail started to have bigger and bigger patches of snow cover. Still not enough for snowshoes, but there was enough to slow me down. As the trail started to bend to the east, running parallel to Donahue Creek, the snow was no longer in patches but a continuous slope of slick icy snow. I put on snowshoes, but I was still having trouble.
It was 11:05 when I put my snowshoes on. I must have spent the next 2 hours moving about 2 miles, back and forth in the same half mile radius. I kept losing the trail, but in my defense it was covered with snow. In addition to countless falls, I slid down the snowy slopes at least 7 times. One, very scary, was about a 200 foot skid, down a 40 degree slope, barely stopping before a large, down tree. I marched back, found what looked like previous hiker's footprints, and tried again. I came to a clear snow field, took one step, and sunk down to my waist. Trying to get out, I fell over, rolled down a few feet, got my foot caught and twisted, and landed on my poles. I screamed, "you're done." Talking to myself, of course. I got up, walked to a relatively flat place, matted it down with my snowshoes, and took a lunch break.
After a good 35 minute break, I got up to pack up, and when I turned around the pad I was sitting on was gone. I watched it slide down about 300 feet. Leave no trace, right? I walked down, got it, and walked up. It took 45 minutes with all the slipping and sliding on the snow. I walked back to the west, found my tracks, and followed them back to where the trail was actually visible. I decided to walk out.
I got through all the snow, found a sunny place on the trail, and took another long break. I was soaking wet from the snow, so I was enjoying the sunshine as it helped dry my clothes. I needed to use my knife to cut some of my block of cheese. I set my knife on the side of the trail. I packed up and began down the trail. Twenty minutes later, I thought about my knife, I didn't remember packing it. I stopped, checked every pocket and emptied my pack. No knife. I left all my stuff on the trail, grabbed a water bottle, and jogged back up the trail to find my knife. Sure enough I found it 15 minutes later. My father gave me this knife. It is not crazy expensive or irreplaceable, and it's not like it was his father's knife or anything like that. But I remember the day he gave it to me. I wasn't into backpacking at the time. Years later as I got into backpacking and hiking (thanks to my school's outdoor education program), this has been my knife out on the trail. For this sentiment, it was worth going back for, and I wanted to keep it.
I was back at my pack another 20 minutes after that and began my walk out, hopefully for the last time. After about an hour and a half, I started to see people on the trail. We were all heading out. The walk out was nice. It got dark and cloudy. It even rained a bit, but only enough to cool you down, and not get you wet. I was wetter with sweat. When I got back to the car, I got everything packed up, and it began to pour.
Orchid: The first 2 hours of the hike and the last hour. For whatever reason, I was cranking out the mileage during those times.
Onion: The lost trail, the runaway pad, or forgetting my knife. All were bitter moments at the time, but now strangely they are good memories. True onions...
Picture:
Google Map
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