Week 65 Nov. 26 - Twin Lakes

Total Distance: Approximately 6 miles
Elevation Gain: Approximately 650 ft.
Time: 8:00 am - 12:30 pm
Weather: Cold, cloudy, sleet off and on turning to rain.

Today was the first hike of the season when I was intentionally looking for snow.  I had this crazy plan of backpacking this weekend.  I wanted to get a few friends to go out and cook a Thanksgiving feast in the backcountry, but it turns out most people want to spend the holiday with family.  I normally am with family, but this year I convinced my mom to let me stay here in Washington, but I did promise I would not go out into the woods alone on Thanksgiving.  I had a lovely holiday with a friend from work and his family, then I spent Friday resting and lounging around the house.  I also planned a snowshoe trip for Saturday.  The plan was to snowshoe to the top of Mount Catherine right off I-90 at Snoqualmie Pass.  I checked the weather, the sunrise/sunset information, and directions.  Sunrise was around 7:30 am, and according to Google Maps, it would take an hour and half.  I was up, packed, and out the door at 6:20 am.

I reached the trailhead at 7:50 am and was geared up and walking by 8 am.  At the end of the parking lot, the trail was covered with snow.  I was walking in a light freezing rain, but I was warm fast.  I stopped after about 15 minutes and delayered.  I was walking again soon.  I walked for about an hour, when I figured I had missed the turn of the road.  I walked back and shortly found the blue blazes leading up to the other road.  Soon after I got to the second road, I began seeing a lot of animal tracks. Mostly what I think was snowshoe hare, but it was still exciting.

Around 9:30 am, I hit the end of the cross-country ski tracks I had been following.  It was obvious the road continued on, but the going was a lot slower.  I was breaking fresh tracks in some deep snow.  I came up on a sign for the Twin Lakes trailhead 2 miles up.  I got to the trailhead at 10:30 am.  This is where I turn and follow the road up to Windy Pass to get to the top of Mount Catherine, but I was tired.  Breaking trail had me sweating like crazy.  I decided to hike to the Twin Lakes and then turn around.  As I moved off the road to the trail, I got caught in a deep snow drift.  And as I was moving around trying to get loose, I began slipping down to my left, but my left foot was stuck.  As I tried to move, I kept falling deeper in the snow to the left with my leg stuck.  I started getting a bit nervous as the pain in my ankle and knee was quite sufficient.  I actually screamed a little as I kept slipping.  Finally, I don't know how, but the snow holding my left leg in place broke free.  I slid down into a little creek but got up quickly.

I had to a work a bit, but I got back on to the trail and was moving to the lake.  Unfortunately, the path to the lake was deeper snow than I had to deal with on the road.  There were also creek crossings that were a little sketchy, like the one right by the road.  I crossed three other creeks and was really tired.  I looked around and I figured I had gone far enough for the first snowshoe outing of the winter.  I began walking out.

Walking out was a tad faster, since I had footprints to follow.  It was, however, colder.  I passed two people on the road moving up to Windy pass.  Once I got back to the main road, there were a ton of people playing in the snow near the parking lot.  I was back at the car at 12:30 pm.

Orchid: Breaking fresh tracks with no one nearby.

Onion: Twisted knee and ankle.

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Google Map

Week 64 Nov. 20 - Dungeness Spit

Total Distance: Approximately 11 miles
Elevation Gain: Approximately 150 ft.
Time: 11:30 am - 3:30 pm
Weather: Cold, mostly cloudy, brief sun break early on the hike.

Life never ceases to amaze me.  I have gone through the full spectrum of emotions in the last three weeks.  When I think back to 21 days ago, I was on trails in Mount Rainier, celebrating my birthday with friends, and joyous at the gift that would be more time on this planet with the people in my life.  The next two hikes with my friend Erin on the Olypmic peninsula, I must confess were more than a "hike with a friend," at least for me.  After two beautiful hikes with Erin, a few conversations, and a lot of daydreaming in my head over the last 14 days, the emotional roller coaster of life has been in full swing.  Late this last Friday night, it became obvious that my hikes with Erin will from now on just be hikes with a good friend.  That same day, there was a terrible plane crash involving two coaches at my alma mater, Oklahoma State.  While I did not know them, my sister who works for Oklahoma State, did.  Add to this that only minutes prior to my conversation with Erin Friday, Oklahoma State had its dream of an undefeated football season dashed on national television. 

When I woke up Saturday morning, I felt like a wreck, like a ton of emotional baggage.  I had a few things to do, since I was taking kids from my school this week on a hike.  Thank God for that!  I was close to canceling this hike during the week for a variety of reasons: the weather was supposed to be so cold Friday the roads were going to be icy in the morning, I didn't have a co-leader that could join me, I did not want to take kids with me so I could go "hike with a friend" in Port Angeles, etc.  On Friday, it was clear many kids wanted to go, so I scrambled and asked several people go with me.  Finally got a friend and co-wilderness instructor to agree to come, and I blasted out the details to the club in an email.  The plan was to meet at 9 am, by then the icy roads will hopefully be dry enough.  We were going to hike the Dungeness Spit, a 5 mile thin strip of beach that jets out into the Straight of Juan de Fuca formed by the Dungeness river depositing silt and runoff in the Pacific.  This hike would make the snow a non-issue.

I was at the meeting place early, and I waited.  As I waited, I got an email from one of the five kids who said he was going, and he couldn't make it.  Then three other kids got there, and at 9:15 am my co-leader and a student weren't there.  Now for those of you that don't live in the PNW, when I tell people we are meeting at 9, I mean we will meet at 9 and leave at 9:15.  People around here have a little bit different sense of what it means to be "on time."  I don't know why my friend or student did not make it.  I did not have my friend's cell number, so we waited until 9:20am then left.  I normally would not take kids on a hike without another adult, but I have hiked numerous times with 2 of the three, and the other is Gil's son, my colleague who I have been hiking with a lot in the last year.  I also knew the other kids parents really well, so I did not think there would be an issue.

We were at the trailhead by 11:15 am.  We geared up and were walking by 11:26 am.  When we got to the beach there was a huge crowd, and the beach was a thin, narrow strip.  It appeared that the tide was moving out.  I should have checked the tides before I picked this hike, but we were here now.  I hiked in silence most of the day.  The clouds were low, fluffy, and dark over the ocean, but there was no weather.  Looking back to the south, you could see parts of the Olympics through the shroud of the fog and cloud cover.  There were higher clouds moving north, down over the peaks.  Sunlight was streaming through the cloud layers.  The ocean in its rhythmic ebb and flow was slowly moving out as I walked along the coast.  In these moments, I realized how life never changes only our perceptions do.  No matter what I am dealing with, the sun will always break through dark clouds. No matter how my heart might ache, the tides will always go out and come back. And no matter who I am not with despite thinking I should be, life is still worthwhile.

We were at the lighthouse, 5.5 miles from the trailhead at 1:11 pm.  A lunch break on the beach and a tour of the lighthouse had us walking back to the car at 1:50 pm.  We were booking it on the sandy stretch of coast that had been hidden by the morning's high tide.  We were back at the car by 3:20 pm.  We were averaging 17 minute miles.

Orchid: Therapy session with Mother Nature.

Onion: Hard to put in words, but I know what it is.

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Google Map

Week 63 Nov. 12 - Royal Lake

Total Distance: Approximately 14 miles
Elevation Gain: Approximately 2600 ft.
Time: 10:30 am - 6:00 pm
Weather: Cool, foggy, mostly cloudy, light snow off and on as we walked to the lake. Fog cleared off and glimpses of blue sky around 4 pm on our way out.

This weekend was another weekend out on the Olympic Peninsula.  The more I go the Olympics, the more I love this park.  Another beautiful thing that happens when I am out in the Olympics is for every hike I do, I learn about two or three new hikes I want to return and do later.  It is the park that keeps on giving.  It only takes about 2 hours to drive from my house to hikes on the east side of the park.  It's an easy drive, especially if I can get an early start.  And with a few friends in Port Angeles, I usually can get someone to go hiking with me.  This week I was joined by Erin again.  This hike that we did today was a hike I found months ago on wta.org and have wanted to do for awhile.  With the weather forecast calling for rain all day in Port Angeles, we did not want to do a hike where we would find ourselves exposed at high elevation on a ridge.  So instead of trying to go up to the top of Jupiter, which was also closed because of fires this summer, we came back to the hike up the Royal creek to Royal Lake in the Royal Basin.  It would be safer and still provide distance and some elevation gain, a chance to stretch our legs.

I met Erin in Sequim around 9 am.  I threw my gear in her truck, and she drove to the trailhead.  The dirt road wasn't too bad, but it did have sections covered in a thin layer of snow.  We were up at the trailhead by 9:50 am, where we met the first hiker to get to the trailhead and his beautiful golden retriever, May.  He was going up the Dungeness River to Camp Handy, staying out of the national park and remaining in the national forest.  I always appreciate a responsible dog owner who follows the rules.  He was walking while Erin and I were still gearing up.  As we were about ready to hit the trail a third car showed up with three people also heading up to the basin.  We exchanged pleasantries, and Erin was able to describe the route and give a few of the cautionary details as well.  We were off and walking the trail by 10:15 am.  By 10:35 we were at the turnoff to the basin, and we had caught up to May and her owner.  We chatted a bit enjoyed  May's love and friendship.  We turned to go up the Royal Creek, and shortly after we were ran down by May.  We shooed her back and kept walking.  Five or ten minutes later, we were again ran down by May, but this time we heard her before she came up on us.  Erin stayed firm and kept her back, forcing her to run back.  We were a little worried afterwards, hoping she made it back to her owner.

We hit the national park boundary around 11 am.  The trail was in the woods  meandering along side the Royal Creek.  It climbed slowly and by 11:15, the surrounding plants were covered in a light layer of snow.  As we climbed, the snow was accumulating.  It was not bad enough to need the snowshoes we were carrying, but it made walking a little tougher as it was easy for my feet to slide around a bit.  It started snowing as we walked, and we were both happy to have missed the rain.  We took a break around 12:15 pm by a huge tree that was keeping the most of snow off of us.  I ate a snack and drank some water for what Erin said would be the final push to the lake.  The trail continued to climb and switchback gradually, and within about 40 minutes we hit the lower Royal Basin.  The weather had stopped, the opening of the basin was magnificent, the surrounding areas was covered in snow, and the walking was nice and flat to the lake.  Another 10 minutes and we were rounding a bend to the lake.  The lake was beautiful, but the wind was blowing hard in our face off the lake.  Little ice crystals were nailing us in the face, but we were able to walk along the right side of the lake, up to a little clearing on the far side of Royal Lake.

We stopped here for our lunch.  It was cold, so the first priority was to get warmer layers on.  After I layered up, Erin busted out a Thermos of hot chocolate.  This was the perfect addition to warmer clothes, and I instantly felt warm.  I drank some water and tried to eat a bit, but I wasn't too hungry.  We enjoyed standing and staring at the lake as the wind and snow pounded our backs.  We packed up after about 30 minutes and began our walk out.   When we got back to the south tip of the lake, our tracks had almost been covered by the wind blown snow.  We walked through the basin and down a few of the last switchbacks, when we hit the group of three we had met at the trailhead.  The were planning an overnight; I was a tad jealous.  We wished them safe travels and continued down the trail.

As we walked down in the twilight, the clouds were lifting off the ridges that form the Royal Creek Valley.  I even saw a sliver or two of blue sky.  It was a gorgeous afternoon, including the break for snow cones on the side of the trail.  We used flavored beverages to make a snow slushy, it was delicious.  We continued our walk and were down in the forest as it was getting dark.  We stopped around 5:30pm to find our headlamps.  As we were a few minutes from the trailhead, I heard a strange sound and got Erin's attention.  She did not know what it was either, and it was a little scary.  I thought it sounded like something breathing or snoring, after we got out Erin was worried it was a person.  I was convinced it it was a person they would have said something as we were there talking about the noise.  We will never know, and it ended the hike with a scary, sad note.  I hope I did not leave someone in the woods.

Orchid: The views that opened up on the way down and the snow cones.

Onion: The noise we heard near the end of the trail.

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Google Map

Week 62 Nov. 6 - Hurricane Hill up the Little River down to the Elwha

Total Distance: Approximately 15 miles
Elevation Gain: Approximately 5100 ft. (with 5300 ft down)
Time: 10:30 am - 6:00 pm
Weather: Cool, windy, mostly cloudy. A glorious sun-break in the meadows to the west of Hurricane Hill around 3:30 pm.

So I was back on Hurricane Hill this week (for avid blog readers, I have now been here 3 times in 2011). There is no particular reason for my affinity for this place, but I do have some important history here. Sixty-four weeks ago, two weeks before I started my 52 hikes, I was here for the first time. I was learning how to use a GPS and look for marmots. I was going into the backcountry to help the Olympic National Park collect data on the Olympic Marmot. I was dealing with some personal, emotional issues at the time (the same issues that sparked the hiking commitment a few weeks later). My friend who teaches biology needed a partner for a marmot study he had signed up for earlier that spring. A buddy of his couldn't make it, and we had talked about hiking together for a while. I knew the wilderness would help with what I was dealing with. I was not able to commit until last minute, so the park had planned to send us along with a park employee. After we met her in the front-country and gave her the chance to back out, she declined. Instead she wanted to go, since this was the last job she was going to do for the park. She was leaving for the east coast that next weekend. A friend of hers, who was free, worked in the park, and who was obviously going to miss her friend, also came along.

So there we were, a group of four, brought together by friendship, marmots, and a love of the woods. The four of us became good friends on our way to Dodger Point. And as cool people tend to meander in and out of your life, I knew these two women were the kind of people I wanted to keep in touch with. We have chatted via Facebook and met up as people have been passing through, but this last Thursday was the first time all four of us got together. Sitting around chatting, we tried to plan a reunion hike for this weekend. My friend and colleague was already busy with cross-country and previous plans, and the east coast park employee was heading back east on Sunday. So that left me and the other park employee, Erin. She lives in Port Angeles, and there was a hike up to Hurricane Hill I have been wanting to do since I saw it on the map in July. There is a trail that goes up 5300 ft over 6 miles from the Elwha river to the top of Hurricane Hill. One section gains 4900 ft in 4.5 miles. That hurts my thighs just thinking about it. She said she was down, and she had ideas for making the hike more interesting.

We knew we had to get an early start, since I had a two hour drive, and "falling back" was going to bring darkness in earlier. I was up and out the door at 6 am. I was in PA (Port Angeles) at 8:15. I needed groceries, and we had planned to meet at 9 am. Thankfully, my sister called and I was able to catch up with her and buy groceries. I was at my friends around 9:15am. She thought it might be a better hike to go up the Little River valley to Hurricane Hill and come down the trail to the Elwha. Excited to be out with my friend and to cover some big distance and elevation change, I was easily convinced. We stashed a car near the Elwha Ranger Station, off the Whiskey Bend Road. We then drove back to her place, where a friend of hers (and now mine) took us to the trailhead on the Little River.

We started walking at approximately 10:30 am. By 10:50, we were 1.1 miles along the trail, hitting the National Park boundary. The trail along the river was a nice stroll, gaining elevation slowly. The trail hugged the Little River and crossed over several times. We had to do a little trail finding and rock jumping, but it wasn't too difficult. After about an hour and a half, the trail started gaining elevation quickly. As we climbed, the treetops above started showing little dustings of snow. We kept moving up, and more snow was visible on the surrounding trees and the ferns near the trail. Soon even the trail was covered in snow, nothing that required snowshoes, but snow none-the-less. We took a little break on our way up. It was lightly snowing, and we were hitting deeper, more consistent snow.

We started walking up, and the animal tracks started to reveal themselves. I saw deer and possibly elk tracks then snowshoe hare tracks. And shortly after we came across a real treat, some big cat prints. It was either a cougar, or it was the biggest bobcat ever. The trail was snowed over and we were the only human prints, but we were following the cougar up the trail for about an hour. When the cougar tracks finally went off the trail we were only a few minutes from getting to Hurricane Ridge. As we got to the ridge, I recognized the hill to the south, the hill I first went to the top of during a whiteout on snowshoes in January, returned to on snowshoes in April, and now hiking to in snow in November. I love returning to a place I've been to before, especially with different friends and at different times of the year.

We had a nice, long break at the trail junction near the top of the hill. The wind was howling, and my hands were freezing by the time we left. We started hiking down at 3:15 pm. As we began walking west along a ridge, the clouds began lifting, and the sun came out. We hit the meadows to the west at the perfect time. The sunshine was a rich, warm color, and the valleys below were hidden with low clouds. The peaks were shining with fresh snow and the sky above was soft, brilliant blue. We disturbed a few deer grazing in the meadow, and we were greeted by a Clark's Nutcracker too. Apparently this is a rare bird in this area with an awful call. We were graced with his presence, and he kept his silence.

Soon we were in the forest, and it felt like we would be at the car shortly. We walked and walked as the sun faded to the west. It was dark around 5 pm, and by 5:30 pm I could no longer see. We took our last break to find our headlamps and to hydrate. We were at the car by 6.

Orchid: Big distance, big elevation gain, great pace, wonderful friend.

Onion: Cold hands.

Picture:

Google Map