Breaking in Bonnie

Royal Creek 7/14-7/15/07 7 miles

My friend Bonnie has been listening for years as I regale her with my exploits in the woods. We had been hiking together, but Bonnie was ready for the next step - she wanted to go on an over-night expedition. So I planned a trip to Royal Lake on the Olympic Peninsula. It is 7-mile trip in to the lake - a respectable distance for me and a place I had been eyeing for several months. I also figured Bonnie, who is in good shape would also be able to manage.

On Saturday morning, I picked her up and we made our way to the trailhead. We started off strongly as we head up the Dungeness River, stopping to admire the rushing water as it roared down the valley. We began feeling our packs soon after the junction with the Royal Lake trail. A few rocks next to a sliver of a stream gave us an inviting welcome for a rest and a snack. But our way was becoming slower as the moss under the trees became more dense and covered everything in a thick green carpet.

As we passed 3500' marked with a sign warning campers not to use fires beyond this point (stoves only), I became a little worried that Bonnie might not make it all the way, we still had a bit of a climb to get to the lake. And after we met up with hikers heading back out with the news that wee had probably another 4 miles to go, I made the decision that the next suitable campsite we came across would be our home for the evening. Soon, we found a spot located a little downhill from the trail and not far from the creek as it splashed over rocks and around fallen trees.

Someone previously had used the area, if not as a camp but as a toilet and had left their toilet paper littered behind a tree. I will in a later blog expound on the Leave No Trace principles. I would have loved to give that lecture to whoever left the TP blooms. Bonnie couldn't resist and quickly busied herself burying the mess. As she was doing that, I noticed a fly convention a few yards from our tent. I had to investigate, because I would hate to find out if wee set up camp in an area frequented by bears. But what greeted me was something even more disturbing - an aborted animal fetus.

Before you ask, no, I did not take a picture of it. I just couldn't make myself. For the rest of the trip though, Bonnie and I referred to this little spot as the aborted fetus campsite. Nothing bothered us that night as we laid in the tent reading, and at least for me, it was a restful slumber. Sadly Bonnie was on a slope and kept sliding into the wall of the tent. The next morning, I lounged out by the creek while Bonnie caught up on a little more sleep. But soon it was time to pack up and head back home.

It's amazing how hiking out is generally easier and quicker than hiking in. We were out in almost no time. We didn't make it to our destination, but Bonnie had a good taste of backpacking and is starting to plan her own excursions into the woods.