Looking for a Sign

Cowiche Mountain, 4/11/10, 6 miles, 1100 elevation

Sometimes it's a good idea to scout out an unfamiliar trail prior to leading a group of hikers into the vast wilderness. Never mind that my good friend told me that following the trail would be no problem as it is well signed. Ignore the fact that we were hiking in the steppe plateau near Yakima. Who can get lost? Me, it seems.

All seemed to start out all right. We found our way to the trailhead, but things began to go wrong almost from the start. The well-signed trail was not as well-signed as I would have hoped. We came to a junction and the only sign I saw was to the left so we followed that sign. We did get to see a Barred Owl high in a tree as we walked and a little later a coyote running through the scrub.

But we noticed a problem as we came to another junction - there were no signs. The trail heading left petered out as it reached the brush - the trail right was wide and looked well traveled. However, 1/4 mile into it this trail also disappeared. We backtracked but could not find where we lost the trail. The mountain top could be seen in the distance so we started cutting through the sage cross country, oblivious to private property.

At some point, while reading the terrain, we spotted other hikers coming down the mountain. A decision was made to head in their direction and hopefully pick up the trail from there. Sure enough, after crossing one last ravine and traversing the mountainside a while, we came across the trail with cairns and signs.

The wind picked up as we ate lunch and soon we were heading back down the hill on the same trail. I had to find out where we lost our way. Approaching one gated fence, we found a sign handily placed behind a bush. Soon we came to the junction with the wide trail and the petered out trail. Sure enough, the trail that "disappeared" was the trail we should have followed, yet there were no signs pointing the way. Finally coming to the 1st junction, we spotted another sign in the direction we should have followed.

But what is adventure without a little exploration?

The Grey Wolf

Lower Grey Wolf River, 4/10/10, 7 miles, 600 elevation

I have always had a pull to the Olympic Peninsula. Ever since I was a child, my family's vacations in the rich dark forests were looked upon by me as an escape from everything that troubled a young child's mind. So when the opportunity to change the destination of our CHS hike because of poor scheduling on our part (note to self: read the tide tables PRIOR to scheduling the trip), I jumped at the chance to explore an area I had not yet explored - the Grey Wolf River.

Deep in the Buckhorn Wilderness flows the Grey Wolf River, not well known but no less beautiful than the more well known rivers of the Olympic peninsula. Protected by the thick forest in the rainshadow of the Olympics rushes over rocks and meanders around thick bends. In the spring, runoff from melting snows up high swells the waters to a raucous noise. But as we were hiking early in a late snow year, the river was a quiet companion whispering of its journey to the sea.

The trail is generally flat with a few hills to climb over but always the moss and fern covered forest floor awaits you as you descend back to the river's side. Sun sparkled through the heavy trees and you wonder with the thickness of moss, ferns and tree if this is truly a rainshadow forest. In comparison to the rainforests of the Hoh & Quinault there can be no doubt. Yet a comparison to even forests along the western Cascades, the lush life belies the thought.

We stopped at river's edge for lunch just prior to the washout before turning back towards home. And the life of the Olympics still thrives in my soul.

April Snows bring . . . ?

Big Creek Loop, 4/3/10, 4.5 miles, 600 elevation

Our plans were made in February - an unseasonably warm February where we hiked trails normally closed until April or May. Our excitement in getting to destinations early in the season was uncontained as we planned the hikes for this year's Conditioning Hike Series. Even so, Big Creek Loop is hikable in the early season - one of the reasons I enjoy the hike on the SE side of the Olympic Peninsula. The forest is filled with the new green of spring. But not this year. No, this year brought us snow - a lot of it.

Our merry little group started out at the Big Creek campground in a spotty dusting of snow, telling stories and getting to know each other, stopping to identify fox prints in the snow. A slight rain began to fall on us as we started our climb through the trees. It wasn't long before the rain showers turned into snow showers. Soon, it was just plain snowing and accumulating on the trail, ferns & trees.

Knowing I had a few newer hikers on the trip, I asked if anyone was uncomfortable. There waas still time to turn back, but this being a loop everyone opted to continue on. One of the features I love about this trail is that there are several different streams to cross as well as Big Creek. Big Creek is at the apex of the climb then the trail follows the other side of the drainage back down to the campground. By the time we crossed the bridge over Big Creek, we were hiking through 8 inches of snow - almost perfect for snowshoes.

I had hoped for lunch at a little bench tucked in the trees next to the creek. But the snow wasn't relenting so we traveled a little further until I could not postpone lunch any longer - my hikers needed to eat. So we huddled together under Alder swaying with the wind. Adding insult to injury, the wind knocked chunks of snow off the trees with well-aimed precision, splattering on our heads and down our jackets.

Soon we were down to the land of rain showers and a dusting of snow - ready to see what the rest of the season brings us.

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.

Spring in Cowiche

Cowiche Canyon, 3/13/10, 8 miles, 450 elevation

Spring in Washington brings images of grey skies and cold rain, but there is another Washington, a dry side, a warm side, a sunnier side on the other side of the mountains. Great hiking can be found here east of the Cascades when the weather hasn't calmed down on the "wet" side.

Outside of Yakima is a Conservation area known as Cowiche Canyon - an old railroad that once lead from the Cowiche area to Ellensburg and Wenatchee. After the railroad was no longer in need, the canyon became neglected until the Cowiche Canyon Conservancy decided to preserve the area.

A walk in the canyon along the creek that carved it's way through the volcanic rock, reveals a long geologic history when this landscape was created by the tumult of eruptions. Basalt in various stages of erosion makes up the walls of the canyon reminds me slightly of canyon in the southwest. The sandstone and basalt appear to have similar erosion patterns.

While the canyon floor was devoid of flowers this early in the season there were remnants of last year's floral display. A short hike to the rim of the canyon, reveals an amazing carpet of color: Grass Widows, Prairie Violets and Yellow Bells glimmering in the sun.

All it takes is a little willingness to drive a little farther and you'll enjoy a little bit of the joys of hiking the shoulder season.

To learn more about the Conservancy, go to their website: http://cowichecanyon.org/.

There be Ghost Towns here!

Melmont & Manly Moore, 2/28/10, 10 miles, 100 elevation

Tucked away in the dense rainforest northwest of Mt Rainier hides a pice of Washington history un-noticed by the outdoor enthusiasts rushing to the many trails and camp sites closer to and inside the park. A history reflected in the names given to features and settlements in the area: Carbon River, Carbon Glacier, Carbonado. A history that supplied the nation with fuel at the turn of the 20th century. A history of a vibrant life, ending so suddenly remnants are still seen if one knows where to look and takes the time to slow down for a glance.

The towns of Melmont, Fairfax, and Manly Moore were once thriving coal mine towns serviced by a railroad and train arriving once a week. After more pure coal was found and mined elsewhere in the country, the town structures were dismantled and the railroad tracks pulled up. But even now, a walk along the old railroad bed will turn up treasures telling of a history not long in our past yet almost forgotten.

The foundation of the old Melmont schoolhouse still overlooks the level meadows where the town once resided. An old work trucks rests in the embrace of a vine maple where it was abandoned so long ago - moss and fern replacing the paint and hinges. A shack still stands along the trail and stories tell of explosives being kept there. And here and there along the way evidence of a once rich coal mining area spills from the hillsides.

I LOVE my Yak-Tracks

Bearhead Mountain, 2/21/10, 3 miles, 1000 elevation

The invitation read "Join me on a strenuous hike up the winter route of Bearhead Mountain." Sounded like my kind of a hike. That the invitation came from my buddy Dave who hiked up to Camp Muir with me last summer, I knew I'd be in for an adventure. Two other friends met us in Orting for breakfast before we started the drive out to the trailhead. Dave proved to be an excellent tour guide as he pointed out features and remnants of towns along the road.

We reached snow just short of the trailhead but Dave just pushed right through to the parking area. We had originally thought we wouldn't need our snowshoes at first, but with the freezing temperatures ice lined the trail instead of secure snow. It didn't take us long of slipping and sliding before we called a truce and put on the snowshoes. From then our way became easier and we sped along to our first short break, Twin Lake. Yes that is singular.

From Twin Lake our climb began. The summer route is a moderate 4.5 mile climb. The winter route shortens this by 2 miles as we climb right up the spine of her back. We followed a cross-country route through the trees, using our bark-y friends to help us along. We came upon an open area and rapidly crossed to the next forested area to continue our climb. At some point through the trees, I looked up the hill ahead of me and froze. I would have to come down that in these conditions?

I love walking in my snowshoes and find them very comfortable in most conditions. However, on steep icy slopes, my confidence in my snowshoes falter. At this point one of our companions slipped and fell grabbing onto a sapling to stop her slide. I knew I wasn't going any further. Dave came back down to help me find a place to sit and wait for the group to return and I settled in for a cold stay. The sun hadn't yet reached my little stump and a breeze started blowing up over the ridge. I put on as many layers as I could and started to pace. Once my toes got cold I started swinging my feet and jumping up & down. Amazingly, my hands never got cold - my new double layer ragg wool mittens were working marvelously. Probably the best 12.00 I ever spent.

Finally Dave & the other returned making sure I knew I had made a good decision - the conditions only got worse above. But I still had to try to maneuver down steep slopes with my snowshoes. Dave recommended I put on my Yak Traks to see if they helped. All I can say is, they certainly did. Another wonderful investment for my outdoor life. We made fast time down the hill and I never slipped once. We gain stopped at Twin Lake for a few photo ops before making our way back out to the parking area - I in my Yak Traks and the rest in their snowshoes.