A June Lake Snowshoe

Barely 2 miles from the trail head, I had to ask.

"Did you check the trail reports?"

The reason I asked was that we were almost to the snow park and there was no snow.

"The last report was from 2 weeks ago and the gal complained about all the snowmobiles out on the road."

That was another sign we might be in trouble - I had yet to see a truck hauling snowmobiles. Our snowshoe might just turn into a hike.

We pulled into the parking lot to find that yes there was snow, but it was crappy snow. It hadn't snowed for several days so there were bare spots in the trees and tree debris on top of what snow there was.

It wasn't an auspicious start to our adventure, but we'd make the most of it. We always do.

The "we" here was me, my Sissy, a friend of ours, and an intern at Sissy's company. The intern wanted to get out and about as much as possible before he headed home to New York. What better way to see the state than a snowshoe through the wilderness on the backside of our volcano.

Clouds hung low through most of the day so we weren't able to see the crater rim. But anything could happen, right? We set off down the snow covered road avoiding the few snowmobiles enjoying each others' company and sharing stories.

About a mile along the road, is the turn off to the lake. Snowmobiles aren't allowed on the trail and since there weren't that many, we didn't leave any hectic traffic jams behind.

Heading up through the woods, I realized I am in far worse shape than I imagined myself to be. This should be an easy jaunt yet here I was dragging behind and huffing and puffing. I have a lot of work to do to get into shape for climbing Mt St Helens.

It didn't take long for the rain to start and I have to say it - I hate snowshoeing in the rain. It's miserable. I'd rather have blowing snow than rain. Ugh. We soldiered on and in no time we were at the lake. A pretty sort of a lake especially in the snow with snags and a waterfall on the far side. In the summer, this place serves well as a starting point for the Loowit trail - the 30+ mile hike around the volcano. In the snow it's an enchanted land of snow queens and fairies. At least in my fantasy.

We shared a big tree near the edge of the lake that served well to shelter us from the rain and ate our lunch before heading back to the car in the rain.

It may be a long drive, but I do enjoy snowshoeing to June Lake. I just wish the rain could have waited a little longer.

Waking up Early

The alarm cut through my dreams, a hot knife against my unconscious meanderings.

I looked blearily at my alarm and wondered why I would ever think the tinkled chimed and bird sounds would make a pleasant awakening.

Snooze.

No sooner had I closed my eyes than the alarm clattered in to my dreams like an unwelcome drunken guest.

Snooze!

But I laid in my bed staring at the ceiling debating whether I really wanted to get up and drive for 2 1/2 hours for the possibility of a sunrise.

After several minutes I decided no, I would sleep in, turned off my alarm, and snuggled deeply into my blankets. Then my hand was over the edge of the bed, picking up the pants I had deposited there the night before. First one leg, then the next. My shirt, shoes, hat, camera bag and I was out the door with car keys in hand.

Without thinking, I adjusted myself for the drive and sped off down the dark roadways. My only thought as I progressed was not to speed too much, the highways are lonely at 4:30 on a Sunday morning and I didn't want a ticket. A little over an hour later I was topping off the gas tank and grabbing a gas station coffee to keep myself company.

The air was filled with water, a fog that thickened and dispersed as I drove past farms and trees and finally started climbing towards the volcano. In Seattle we call Mt Rainier The Mountain, Mt St Helens The Volcano.

I was hoping to get sunrise from the Castle Lake Overlook, looking southeast at the volcano, color behind the snowy flanks and crater. But I would have to get above the fog.

Elevation marker 1,000 feet - fog. Keep going,
Elevation marker 2,000 feet - light fog, can see clouds, but no breaks in the clouds. Keep going.
Elevation marker 3,000 feet - clouds, and there are breaks in the clouds, maybe - no stars. Keep going.

As I rounded a corner there in front of me shone a sliver of the moon, shining like a beacon for me to follow. No stars, but there was the moon. This was going to be a good drive. I pulled into the overlook just after 6:30 as the sky was lightening on the horizon, and the clouds began to subtly blush.

Compose, shutter, compose, shutter, compose, shutter until the color faded. I listened to the coyotes howl in the distance.

I drove onto the Coldwater Visitor Center on the ridge overlooking Coldwater Lake. The Visitor Center is open limited hours on weekends during the winter. My destination was the bench below the Visitor Center with a view of the volcano peeking out from behind a ridge. Elk meandered through the meadow below me and the clouds blushed again. I played again with compositions before the color faded.  I watched as a lenticular cloud built up around the crater rim, looking like a clouded comb-over. I moved along.

Heading back down the highway, I stopped at the Elk Rock Overlook as the clouds behind the volcano began to yellow from the morning sun and the volcano's comb-over smoothed itself into a wig.

Waking up early, mystery and loveliness happen in the infant hours of the day.

June Lake Snowshoe

The forecast was for snow in the mountains. Lots of snow. Lots & lots of snow. So when my sister asked if I wanted to go snowshoeing with her & friends I thought SNOWGASM! Damn right I wanted to go.

Her plan was to meet mid-morning in Cougar then consolidate into 1 car for the trip to Marble Mountain SnoPark. But plans never work out and we met in the Lone Pine Resort late morning. The staff at Lone Pine were so sweet to let me sit in the cafe and filled me with coffee until she arrived. But we quickly got ourselves situated and we were heading up to the snopark with all the snowmobilers.

The first part of the trail meanders through the forest near the road. We could hear snowmobilers racing up and down the road - they sounded like they were having fun. But so were we, the heavy snows the previous day weighed down the trees making the scenery seem like a magical land.

One of number started having trouble in the deep snow in her snowshoes - they were too big for her to maneuver around and she kept falling. I recommended that we trade shoes since mine are lighter and smaller - after all the bigger shoes would help me clear the trail on the way to the lake. She was far happier in the smaller shoes and didn't fall as often.

After leaving the road, the trail starts to climb. It's only about 500 feet of gain but in snow it can be a bit harder. Even with the late start, we weren't in a hurry so took our time - resting when necessary, making snow angels, and admiring how the snow clung to barren tree limbs.

We finally made it to the lake, a little pond at the base of cliffs normally not much to write home about, but with the snow and ice and the waterfall, we were transfixed my the beauty. We barely noticed the flank of the volcano leading up into the clouds behind us. We tromped around the meadow a bit sinking to our knees in the soft snow before heading back to the car.

If you want to go on the snowshoe, follow ski trail 245 from the upper parking lot at the Marble Mountain snopark off of forest road 90. The trail is 5 miles round trip with about a 500 foot elevation gain. Plan plenty of time to explore the meadow around the lake. Sadly we had to cut our exploration short since we did get a late start. Dress in layers and take plenty of extra food & water - you will need extra in the cold.

Dust Storms and Blowing Snow

Boundary Trail, 3/20/10, 8.5 miles, 800 elevation

Helen Thayer wrote in her account of Walking the Gobi about the endless wind carrying sand and rocks into every crack and crevice. I could almost sympathize after a hike along the Boundary Trail from the Hummocks to the Loowit Viewpoint on a particularly windy March day.

The volcanic landscape of Mt St Helens lends itself to this type of a comparison as life has barely taken root in the ash and pumice on the wind-swept slopes. As the winds whip around the tree-bare hills, it picks the tiny and not so tiny particles left from the last eruption 30 years ago.

The trail leads you through hummocks, mounds of ash and earth from inside the volcano deposited when the mountain blew out the north flanks. Then up the hill to Loowit Viewpoint - an perfectly unobstructed view. However the hiker will have magnificent views all along the trail. Along the way you will also find evidence of the forest's past when lumber was the primary industry - now industry belongs to tourism. From the Loowit Viewpoint, you can continue on the Boundary trail east into the Cascades.

Go before the Johnston Ridge Observatory is open in May and you are fairly guaranteed solitude.

Around the Volcano

MSH Road Trip, 9/26/-9/27/09

I had been needing to collect a few images from a few of my favorite places in Washington for a project at work. This late in the season, heading to the North Cascades was out of the question - access would be limited. My next choice, Mt St Helens would be perfect for such a weekend. Although as we were heading out, what kind of weekend we weren't sure of for clouds obscured the hoped for clear autumn skies.

We rolled into Silver Lake in the late morning only to have the mountain view I was wanting hidden behind a layer of grey. Disappointed and losing faith in the weather, we quickly adjusted our plans and moved to the south side of the mountain not really expecting much. However, the farther we drove south, the clearer the skies became and when we swung around to the south side of the volcano blue skies with small wisps of clouds framed Mt St Helens. I was elated.

I wanted to stop at the Lahar Viewpoint and Ape Canyon. The trail through Ape Canyon had been closed since the 2006 floods but with diligent crews, some of them finishing up as I hiked, the trail re-opened with a bit of fanfare that same day. We later rested at Lahar Viewpoint and had lunch. Olympia & Zillah sniffing the elk tracks or begging some chips from us. We drove away from this area, happy with the images collected. Our next stops would be along the road to Windy Ridge.

I had not planned on being here in the afternoon as the sun would be in the wrong place for the best light. But I made do with what I had - grabbing a few shots here and there. Finally the sun began to set but the hoped for glorious sky would not be happening. The clouds that hovered to the west blocked much of the light show. We camped near Windy Ridge that night in hopes the sunrise would give us something better. The color may not have been the best, but the wildlife but on a concert for us. Elk just a few hundred feet away bugled and whistled. Beyond them in the valley could be heard coyotes and owls. Michael & I stood alone on the viewpoint soaking up the experience.

On our way home, we decided to drive a road neither of us had been on and found a pretty lake that the Forest Service is allowing to rehabilitate itself from the 1980 eruption. Later we passed a waterfall tucked away from the road. Its waters tumbling down the slope to a deep crystal pool. One last stop at Mt Rainier's Grove of the Patriarchs rounded out our whirlwind tour of Washington's most active volcano.

Attack of the Grasshoppers

Harry's Ridge, 8/16/08, 7 miles, 1000 elevation

Summer (in the eyes of most of the nation) arrived this weekend. I, on the other hand, had been enjoying the cooler temps of the typical northwest summer. But as the temps rose this past week, my ability to function as a normal human being decreased. I'm a Seattle girl - I don't like hot - and anything above 80 is hot. The temps at Mt St Helens were in the mid-90s.

But I wanted to go on this CHS hike, my buddy Steve raved about the beauty on Coldwater Peak. So I packed extra liquids and a couple of neck-coolers and my ventilated sun hat and met the rest of the group at Johnston Ridge. By the time we traversed Devil's Elbow, my body was feeling the heat, and without any shade I knew it would only get worse. Michael noticed it before I did, it's a good thing he watches me closely in hot weather and cold. He's saved my temps on more than one occasion when I thought I was doing fine. While standing in a small grove of willows trying to rest in whatever shade we could get, he had me drink some electrolytes and put on a neck -cooler. It helped for a little while.

Again we were in the direct sun, climbing up a small hill that I just had no ability to climb. Each footstep was harder to make until I had to rest on a bridge while the others in the group continued on. I drank more after the urge to vomit subsided and then followed the group up the hill. But still, each step was a task my body wouldn't cooperate committing. We finally found shade beneath a tree for lunch as the group ate lunch on the ridge above Spirit Lake with Mt St Helens looking on and Mt Adams a hill on the horizon.

After a discussion with Steve, Michael & I said good-bye to the rest of the group. Continuing on, for me, would prove harmful if not deadly. We watched them as they rapidly ascended the next hill - a steeper, more barren climb. I wanted so much to continue on, but knew in reality that with this heat there was no way I could. Michael & I turned back to wait for them at the trail-head. As the day wore on and the temperature increased, I could feel my body try to shut down. Frequent rests to suck down more liquid and allow my body to readjust along with the sheer determination to power through to the car are the only things that got me there.

The rest of the group came out about an hour or so after we made it out. They never did reach Coldwater Peak - they all voted to leave the hike for a day with a more mellow disposition. And where does the title come from you ask? On our way back, each step sent a cloud of grasshoppers leaping through the air. Michael at one point said, "It is really telling of a place where the only living creatures are a plague of locusts."

There's a Butt-Load of Snow Out There!

Mt St Helens, 3/4/08

WOW! Michael & I went down to Mt St Helens to investigate the conditions for our climb next week. Needless to say, the climb is canceled because there is just too much snow. We didn't even get out of the car to look around. We drove up the road through cut banks of snow still 5 feet high to the turn around point 3 miles away from the trailhead, turned around and drove back out.

But before we went home, we stopped by the Hulda Klager lilac gardens in woodland and the Cedar Creek grist mill and just played tourist for a while.

Spring to Winter to Spring Again

Mt St Helens - Road Trip, Spring 2008, 3/23/08

Of all the times I have gone to Mt St Helens, stopping to walk along the lake trail at Silver Lake along the Mt St Helens highway seemed to be put off for another day. Since I had 9 days and a free schedule, why not make today the day to walk along the nature trail at the Silver Lake Visitor Center.

The sun filtered through the clouds as Olympia started out along the boardwalk leading out into the lake. Purple leaves of waterlilies were just beginning to spread out on the lake's surface, they will turn a yellow-green by the end of spring when the blooms speckle the lake. A few ducks drifted along beyond the rushes. Fishermen, too, drifted in their boat. Ever present was Mt St Helens on the horizon.

I was informed by the staff that the road was now open all the way to Coldwater. We drove back through the seasons our way up - from early spring and sprouting foliage around Silver Lake to winter and several feet of snow around Coldwater Lake. Olympia was thrilled to see the snow. She rooted and rolled in the snow, a smile stretching from ear to ear. Anyone who believes that dogs can't smile has never seen Olympia playing in the snow.

On the way back down the mountain, we stopped by the the Forest Learning Center to look down into the Toutle River Valley and the resident elk herd. I could see the elk, small tan ovals the size of grains of rice against the chartreuse lichen, far below. Olympia did her own type of seeing - with her nose. She pressed her nose firmly against the fence, nostrils wiggling, sniffing the breezes for a hint of just where these fantastic beasts were hiding.

Our day was far from over, but our adventure up Mt St Helens was over for today.

500 feet and a half mile

Mt St Helens 5/12/07 11 miles

There we were at the crest of the last big climb up Mt St Helens, Michael’s leg had just given out on him as well as his will to continue. It had been pure will on his part to get him up the last 1500 vertical feet: 20 steps and stop, 20 steps and stop. We had left our packs down around 6000 feet about 2000 feet from the top of the 8300 foot volcano. But that didn’t seem to help Michael’s pace. I knew there was something wrong, but he wasn’t letting on and he had a plan on how to make it to the top – leave our packs and continue on. Once we had crested the hill however, Michael stopped and couldn’t move on.

He finally told me what had been bothering him for the last 2000 feet or so – he had pulled a muscle behind his knee and every step was misery for him. No wonder he could only go a few steps before stopping. I stood at the crest of this last very steep slope listening to Michael as he outlined our options, not really paying too much attention. I already knew what we would have to do. We would need to turn back. I couldn’t ask him to go on and I wasn’t about to finish without him although the crater rim was just up there. I knew I could make it, but why go on without the person who had gotten me this far?

Turning back, however was fear inducing for me. I had hoped for a “practice” glissade before attempting to slide down this oh so steep hill. We started to sidestep down the hill but every muscle in my body tensed up with fear. If I did fall, I would be in a world of hurt and that is what I was most fearful of, falling. I had never trusted the snow – it is a devious substance hiding dangers underneath its apparent solid surface. To this day, I don’t understand how people can be so cavalier on the snow, traipsing along without a seeming care in the world. Me? No, I have to wonder if my next step is a step to disaster. Which is part of the reason I wanted to go on this adventure, to work on my self-confidence in the snow. I love to snowshoe. Skiing still needs work. But to walk in the snow, I would need some practice.

We finally sat down to take off our crampons (one of the best investments we’ve made – my new snow security blankets) and scuttled over to the glissade track. If you’ve never glissaded before, let me tell you. Sliding down a snowy mountain on your butt is probably the second best thing to mountain climbing after the wonderfully unobstructed views. OK, then there’s the absolute thrill that you just did something adventurous, something fun, something crazy.

"Dry" Run

Mt St Helens 4/28/07 5 miles

In preparation for our climb in May, Michael and I decided to hike as far as we were allowed on Mt St Helens to get a feel of where we'd be heading in a few weeks - it would be our "dry" run. I emphasize dry because within a few yards of the trail head for the winter climbing route we ran into snow. Well, duh, this is the winter climbing route. Normally, people who want to climb to the crater of Mt St Helens head to the climber's bivouac and then the Monitor Ridge route. In the winter, climbers start at the Marble Mountain sno-park trail head and add another mile to their climb each way.

We were a bit apprehensive before climbing out of our car and heading up the trail after the climbers heading to the top. We appraised the climbers' gear - everything from daypacks to skis - and their fitness level - everything from Joe Average to Adonis. OK, we thought, this gives us no idea how other people are preparing for the climb. Sure we had the list from the Forest Service web-site but we wanted to see what people actually brought along with us. As a fall-back we decided to follow the recommended list from the Forest Service for our climb in two weeks. Better to be over-prepared than under, I always say.

We climbed to treeline about 2 1/2 miles in and found a nice perch to sit and have lunch as we watched the climbers make their way up the mountain. The climbing ranger had mentioned it before she skied off down the hill. I thought, skis would be nice to have - too bad I'm such a klutz on them as I watched her gently glide away.

We watched for some time, as the line of ant-like climbers made their way up the snow, the clouds drifting apart every now and then to expose the crater rim. Must have been a beautiful sight from the rim - I could imagine the crater below and stretching off north, the Cascades and Puget Sound and at the center of the scene rose Mt Rainier. I was still somewhat apprehensive, remembering my failed attempt several years ago. But the thought of seeing for myself that fabulous view made me want to try all the more.

Micheal was there to evaluate the trail and happily he came back with a healthy prognosis - we could do this. All we need to do is take our time, play it safe and we'd have one more accomplishment under our belts. Come back in a few weeks to find out how we did.

Mt Si

4/7/07 8 miles

I have, for the past 10 or so years, avoided with all possible strength hiking Mt Si. I've gone up Little Si, Mt Teneriffe, Green Mtn and Rattlesnake Mtn. But to Mt Si, I gave a resounding NO. Why is that? Because everyone has done her. I referred to Si as the town ho - everyone has been on top of her so why should I? But in our quest to climb Mt St Helens in May, I made the ultimate sacrifice. I suggested climbing Mt Si.

Mt Si is used by climbers as an early season training hike. 4 miles of up followed by 4 miles of down can take it toll on you leg muscle and is considered prime hiking for conditioning your legs and lungs for larger more intensive climbs. It is not unheard of for climbers who have their hopes set on the summit of Mt Rainier or Denali in the summer, to be blasting up Mt Si in April. But there are also the casual hikers, those wanting a nice view at lunch and have heard Mt Si is a good place for that. And when I say casual hikers, I'm talking about the people who wake up in Seattle on a sunny Saturday and say, "Wow, what a beautiful day. Let's go on a hike." Which isn't to say that's a bad thing, a little spontaneous foray into the natural world is a wonderful thing for the body and soul. But what that creates is a superhighway of hikers. And if you are looking for a bit of solitude, Mt Si and it's superhighway is not where you want to be.

After my solo road trip to the southwest, this superhighway quickly became a irritant. I started grumbling almost immediately about how many people passed us, both going up and coming down. "See?" I would say. "This is why I hate this hike." At one point I even mentioned being afraid of catching some sort of hiking venereal disease. But who was I kidding? I already have the worst kind of hiking venereal disease out there (and whole hardily plan to infect as many people as possible) - Wilderness Obsessionitis. Yep, I am not happy unless I get to pee behind a tree then crawl into my sleeping bag with just the wild critters for neighbors.

In the end, I enjoyed my lunch with a view, worked my calf muscles into a knot, and felt a little more confident to climb Mt St Helens later. I won't search out Mt Si for much more enjoyment than that, but training - she serves her purpose. All I needed to do was get off my pretentious high horse and admit that once in a while something that the rest of the huddled masses enjoys can't be all that bad.