Heather Lake

Posted on March 10, 2015 by evejakubowski

Back to the very first hike I did in Washington! I did it with Pattra and our mothers back in August (pre-blog era) and today had the chance to repeat it on a sunny day. Given how close it is to Seattle and how short it is, I’m surprised it isn’t more popular. But let’s keep it a secret, because I like solitude at the lake. Hiked 3/10/2015 – maybe I found solitude because it’s a Tuesday.

Heather Lake

Distance: 4.6 miles
Elevation: 1024ft gain, 2400 highest point
Weather: 30’s and sunny to high 50’s and sunny
Commute from Seattle: just over an hour, like 1:15
Did I Trip: I nearly ate it like 20ft from the parking lot on the way back (so technically no)

Jonathan didn’t want to do anything too ambitious, so I let go of my dream of hiking Green Mountain or Goat Lake and suggested Heather Lake, a much closer, short hike that I’ve been meaning to revisit for a while now. And I’m glad that’s what we ended up doing.

Enormous tree stump! Over 6ft tall

The road has a few potholes, which are even more noticeable in his 1989 honda civic than in my old Accord. But the Heather Lake trailhead is close to the highway, and shortly we were hopping out of the car getting out stuff together. I forgot to start the Strava app, so this will have to go without a map.

The trail is straightforward. There were a few fallen trees and some slick rocks, but nothing unmanageable. What struck me was how much less green it was compared to August! “Duh,” you might be saying, but I had started to assume that Washington just never had winter. It was still damn green, don’t get me wrong. But in August, it was mind blowingly green and alive. Or maybe I was just more impressed back then because I was new, and now my standards have risen.

I did learn that there’s a name for things like the stump to the left that has trees growing out of it. “Nurse logs!” Any sort of log that’s giving life to new trees, and there were plenty of those on this hike. Most of which were huge, like over 6 feet tall and 8 feet wide huge.

Snack rock of choice

We were at the lake surprisingly soon, and decided to stop for a snack. Last time I was here, I went left to hte closest “beach” and stopped there. So this time, we went right. Turns out, the trail goes all the way around the lake! With plenty of offshoots to explore, rocks to climb, and views of the lake. We set up on a rock next to the water first, took a few pictures, and had snacks. When the sun slipped behind one of the peaks, the temperature dropped a good ten degrees and we had to get moving again.

Sliding on the ice

We walked around to the back of the lake. The shady side. The winter side! This half was frozen, enough that we could walk on it. I’ll never suggest that you try it, but I’m allowed to be young and reckless on occasion. We slid around, taking pictures and skating on our shoes and marveling at the air bubbles trapped in the ice. My inner 5 year old was having a freaking blast. Winter!! Or as close as you can get here. Should have brought my skates!

The cracks I made…

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end: half an hour later, with the sun coming out from behind the peak again, we were 20 feet from shore and heard that odd ringing noise that ice makes when a crack shoots through it. And again. And I looked down, and the crack was between my boots. Wait. Shit. GREAT. I froze. And then shuffled backwards. We figured that was a good sign to get back to land.

Another frozen area with rocks strewn everywhere

If you look closely at the picture of Jonathan sliding, you can see that the lower foot of the rocks is brown. I’m guessing this is the water line. As in, the water is usually a foot higher. Here’s a slightly better picture to show it.

Water level lower than usual, according to the rocks

All speculation, but it would explain all the still pools and lack of streams cascading down the mountain. It was far more wet in August, which I didn’t expect. To be fair, it was raining when we went back then, but that shouldn’t make that much of a difference with stream depth since it was a single rainy day, not a week of rain.

Fish!! In the center, just above the bigger rock in the foreground. Tough to see, but I tried.

There are a few campsites around the lake, and like I said, keep it a secret because it’s got to be an amazing place to camp. Just over an hour from Seattle, and two miles to be in the middle of the mountains near a gorgeous blue lake? Jeez. We had round 2 of snacks and sandwiches and headed back down the trail. We stopped to grab some water from a stream, but returned to the parking lot faster than we were on the way up. We spent probably two hours at the lake, making the round trip something like 4-5 hours.

Could be a summer pic but nope – March!

But I mean we had a winter lake and a summer lake both in one, so of course it took us a while. I could have freaking swam in the summer half, it was that warm.

Frost flowers!

Oh! Frost flowers!! I forgot about the frost flowers! Ahh! I’ve never seen anything like them in my life. I’ll try not to bombard you with pictures, but they were these unbelievably delicate ice formations that were maybe the size of a quarter at most. Somehow, petals and everything had formed. Incredible. I got a few pictures of some individuals, but they were everywhere in this one shady area. Very cool.

Guys, this is a great hike. Seriously, I’m amazed at how much I like it, because it’s short, simple, and close to Seattle, and that’s not usually my style. But if you need a quick excursion, or the knees are hurting, or you have kids to take along, you’ve got to check this one out. It’s like lake-22-lite, and more secret, especially this time of year.

However, hikers beware! Mosquito season has begun, apparently. I’ve been told that compared to summers in Maine, bugs out here aren’t a problem at all. But I’ll be the judge of that. Mosquitoes don’t really show any interest in me, but Jonathan dealt with a few on the hike down. And if they’re starting this early… ugh. The water levels in the lake were very low and the streams we passed were barely flowing, meaning lots of stagnant pools. Aka mosquito heaven. Have fun, folks. Get that cancer-causing 100% deet and go to town.

Sun hitting part of the lake

Bonus picture below: view from where I stood in August, except sunnier with more color. I was told there would be tons of snow melting around the lake in the spring (even the wta page has snow in the background) but not this year! Hopefully in a bit I’ll be able to scrounge a picture up from August so you can all see how different it is. I forget how amazing lakes are in the sunlight.

Unreal color, same place where I stood back in August

Boulder Lake/Olympic Hot Springs

Posted on March 1, 2015 by evejakubowski

With a week between hikes, I was itching to get out again. I spent a few hours agonizing over the fact that we were sacrificing a sunny day for a forest hike: guys, I turned into a hiking snob somewhere along the progression of this blog. Maybe I can trace my gradual adoption of hiker elitism through these posts. Either way, it needs to end now. So I reminded myself to just be thankful that I had friends who wanted to hike, and were willing to drive my (snobby)? ass all the way to the Olympics. 2/22/2015, a full day of driving, hiking, and hot-springing.

Carpets of moss

Distance: 10.2 miles to the lake, 13.5 if you explore the lake and go to the far hot springs
Elevation: 2800ft gain, 4300 highest point
Weather: 40’s and sunny
Commute from Seattle: 2:30ish with ferry, 3:30ish if you drive around
Did I Trip: No but someone almost dropped their leg (and beer) into a frozen lake

The ferry!! I didn’t know you could drive onto ferries. I had no conception of how this worked or that it was even possible until we were there. It’s expensive, but I don’t think I had ridden a ferry since going to Georges Island back in Boston a decade ago. So that was a neat start to the day, chilling on a ferry with hundreds of Chilly Hilly riders getting ready for their bike race.

Wide trail

The road the hot springs trailhead is easily passable, and drops you off about 2.5 miles from the springs. We decided to hit the springs on the way back. Obviously choice, I mean really. Who wants to hike to a frozen lake after getting out of hot springs? Boulder Lake is six miles down the trail, so we got started. The first part of the trail is down a wide, old road, with a few ditches and trees to climb around but nothing challenging, and very little elevation gain.

Moss

Moss EVERYWHERE. I mean everywhere. This is one of the greenest hikes I’ve been on, and it’s February. Does it look any different in the summer? Does it get greener? Is that possible? I don’t think it’s possible. Look at those carpets of moss. It gets green after the split to hot springs and Boulder Lake/Appleton Pass, and I started to come to terms with a sunny forest hike.

Relaxing in the sun by Boulder Lake

There are a few small creek crossings to manage, but nothing tricky. Elevation gain starts towards the last two miles of the hike, but by then you’re almost at the lake! Which was completely frozen over, but still gorgeous. Boulder Peak looms over the lake, and the only lousy part was that the sun was right behind it, meaning pictures were hard. Dammit. We set up snack time on a log that jutted over the water, and hung out for a half hour or so. There was a couple that had camped up by the lake, and I’ll admit I was as little jealous. I ran around taking pictures of everyone and everything, and desperately tried to get a time lapse without too much glare (I failed after many valiant attempts).

Emilie along the dirt trail

After some smores “snack mix” (more like dessert) and smoked salmon, we turned back to head to the hot springs! Woo! Just over three miles to get there, and the way back went much more quickly than the way up. We cut through a campsite to get to the springs, and started walking down the road where we saw steam and smelled sulfur – all I could think of was how much I wished I could eat eggs then and there. Don’t worry, you forget about the smell quickly!

We passed five or six before taking a larger pool that was off the road up a small path to the right. I was told more recently that there are some secret springs past that one(?) or somewhere around there, and another one inside a small cave, which I haven’t heard of. I know the Goldmeyer hot springs have some caves, but the Olympics? Secret cave hot spring would be awesome, I’ll have to do some more research.

Snow capped peak along the trail – Appleton maybe?

We got out of the springs around sunset, and it was completely dark by the time we got back to the car. Which had a note under the windshield wiper. Shit, did we get a ticket? No, it was for an espresso shop. Who advertises that at a trailhead? I guess.. I guess I’ll go stop by sometime? Turned out there was a note on the back, which I read with increasing volume as I started to comprehend what it said: “Hello – my family and I were hiking up to hot springs and found your key on the trail. I put it under your tire for you, no worries, nothing missing.”

Note from our favorite person of the day

My friend Andy (the driver) had thrown his backpack across a ditch at one point (only about 1.5 miles into the trail), broken a bottle inside it, and unpacked everything. We’re guessing that’s where his key had fallen out, and we had NO IDEA until we read the note on the car. Thank god, because finding it in the dark on a Sunday night would not have been ideal. You can have faith in people sometimes! We still have no idea who did it – I posted a trip report, but no one has mentioned it. And we can’t thank them enough. It was a great day, and thanks to that family, we could end it that way too.*

Here’s a link to the strava map, and a quick screenshot. The offshoot to the south is the hot springs. As a side note, if you have Strava, you can see slightly more detail (and follow me!)

Strava map

Can’t leave here without sharing the outhouse. It reminds me of Shrek. Unfortunately (forunately?), I did not get to explore the inside.

Classy outhouse

*Well we missed the ferry on the way back and had to drive down and around the Sound. But I slept through that and woke up one exit from my apartment, so who cares? Kidding, thanks for driving guys, and Lucy you are my new favorite road trip DJ.

Gothic Basin

Posted on February 24, 2015 by evejakubowski

You know when you have an incredible hike and you look back and sometimes can’t believe it worked out as well as it did? That was this one. I hope you guys like pictures, because there isn’t enough room on the internet for the ones I want to share. I seem to have one above-and-beyond hike a month, and this was it for February. In January it was Townsend, in December it was Glacier Vista, in November it was Hidden Lake Lookout, followed closely by Snoqualmie Peak. Well in February, it was Gothic freakin’ Basin! Hiked 2/15/2015.

Gothic Basin, with Foggy Lake beneath Gothic Peak (center/left) and Del Campo (right)

Distance: 9.6 miles (more because I spent time running in circles)
Elevation: 3700ft gain (we went to a small peak) almost all of which is in the last 3 miles
Weather: Sunny! 40’s and sunny
Commute from Seattle: 1:45
Did I Trip: No, which is a feat of pure determination
Side note: It’s a little hilarious that in October I thought I could run this whole trail

This is what pure joy looks like [taken by Surafel]

Waterfall after breaking out of the forest

I had the rental car for one more day, and had to put it to use, so I packed my things and drove out to Mountain Loop. I was debating between Dickerman and giving Gothic Basin a shot. Gothic Basin was a long shot. The last few trip reports didn’t make it to the basin, I didn’t have an axe, and I wasn’t sure how conditions would be at the top. But the Dickerman parking lot was packed. With cars. And people, and dogs. And I loved Dickerman, but I was more in the mood for a quiet hike than a trail with more traffic than Denny Way on a Friday afternoon. So I kept driving.

Gothic Basin doesn’t have a real parking lot anymore, so I parked in the Barlow Pass lot and trekked the 50ft down the road. Strenuous, I know. The first part of the hike is along an old road that was destroyed by rockslides/washouts, so it’s a flat mile with sneak views of Monte Cristo. It was sunny and foggy, and completely devoid of people. Perfect. I spent the first mile and half trying looking at tracks trying to figure out if there was anyone ahead of me. There were two cars near mine, so it was possible that I’d have company. Even when you can’t get to the basin, this hike is gorgeous.

Trekking through the snow, Monte Cristo in the back

The creek crossing went much more smoothly than last time. Was it because I had poles? Or because I learned? I still feel like an awkward goat when I’m using the poles, but at least I didn’t have to wade/crawl across it like back in October. After the creek, the switchbacks started. And my legs complained. But I wanted those views. Eventually I head a few voices – yes! Company! They caught up to me quickly, a family of three in shorts and T shirts. We leapfrogged for a bit, stopping to take pictures as views opened up. They didn’t have traction devices, but figured (like me) that they’d see how far they got. I thought I’d have to turn around at the first waterfall above 3500ft. Nope, snow free. Okay, the second waterfall. Nope, snow free! Seriously, it could be summer. Green, thriving trees, sunny blue skies, shorts and t shirts. Oh crap, snow patch. Maybe turn around at the fourth waterfall? Nope, solid snow bridge. So far so good.

Where I thought I'd turn around, about 4.4 miles in

Where I thought I’d turn around for real, about 4.4 miles in (first use of my sweet new Julbo Explorers)

Once the snow started, there were tons of tracks, and it wasn’t hard to follow the trail. Beautiful views, beautiful waterfalls, sunny blue skies, I was already content. We made it to just below the basin (about 4.3 or so miles in) before looking up at the steep ridge that separated us from the basin itself. I ran up the first slope to scout out what was beyond and see if it was doable with boots, but it only got steeper from there.

Game on, folks! Surafel in the lead

The family decided they were going to turn around, and began to head back. I had all day, and figured I’d at least poke around outside the basin before I left. I checked out a few other routes up to the basin, decided that while it was pretty feasible, I wasn’t comfortable doing it alone without an axe, and finally called it a day.

Ibrahima looking like a mountaineer, Monte Cristo on the left

Lucky for me, I ran into Surafel and Ibrahima on the way down who had traction devices and wanted to give it a shot. No fear from these two, and as soon as they said they were going to try, I was in. Let’s do it. I’m here, and if you guys are down, I’m down. We set off and headed up the first slope. What I thought was a two-slope process ended up being probably 45 minutes of traversing and climbing.

Ibrahima again

Someone before us had left tracks that had almost frozen into a staircase at points which helped, and the snowpack was firm and perfect for microspikes. I couldn’t resist turning around to snap some photos of Ibrahima behind me, though none quite captured the steepness or how awesome everything looked.

Left side of the basin (I actually don’t know what those two peaks are)

We finally crested the ridge overlooking the basin, and I couldn’t believe it. We had made it. We made it WE DID IT I had that rush of excitement where I don’t know what to do with myself. I had known we were going up, and I had known we were getting close, but nothing compares to the feeling you get when you turn a corner or gain a ridge and can suddenly see everything just laid out in front of you. I’m still amazed. I think this was better than the last time I was up there. I eagerly ran back and forth across our small summit taking photos in every direction and ooh-ing and wow-ing while Surafel and Ibrahima got settled in. Finally I remembered I had cookie butter(!) and tea that demanded consumption. And everything tastes better on top of the world.

I mean the view is okay.. I guess we can snack here (Del Campo in the background)

I mean the view is okay.. I guess I can snack here (Del Campo in the background) [taken by Surafel]

Astounding views (Monte Cristo center)

Del Campo is the huge peak to the right of Foggy Lake, and Gothic Peak is behind the lake. If you look north, you’re staring at the Monte Cristo range, Sloan, Sheep, and Pugh. Beyond those you can just barely see the tops of several other ranges, and I can only imagine how awesome everything looks from Gothic Peak or Del Campo, which I’d love to do this summer.I was told that both are tough scrambles, but doable without ropes. Sounds like I shouldn’t solo it, but I’ll get there.

Snack place of choice, looking away from the basin

After a half hour or so of pictures, time to head down. I was worried it’d be tougher than the way up, but with such a firm snowpack, it wasn’t bad at all. There were two other hikers we never crossed paths with who had full crampons, but I felt fine in the microspikes.

Having company on the way down a trail like that is always appreciated, because nothing drives me more crazy than never-ending switchbacks through a forest, even on a sunny day after a fantastic hike.

Descending [taken by Surafel]

We ran into some interesting groups. Some in tank tops and sneakers and no bags (3 miles up the trail at 2pm…), some who thought they were going to the Monte Cristo Ghost Town (also a solid 3 miles up the trail, past the steepest parts! damn!), and I have to wonder how they all did. But a small part of me likes being able to think that we were some of the few who made it to the basin that day.

Ibrahima and Surafel Descending

Strava map and elevation/mile stats here. The small circle is when I was trying to find alternate ways up to the basin, which ended up being further away than expected. On the way into the hike, if you look closely, I took a side trail, whereas I took the road on the way back.

Surafel descending with Pugh (left), Glacier (back center), Sheep (foreground), Monte Cristo (right)

Both work. The road felt faster, but maybe that’s because I had company. I took just over 7 hours round trip, but that was with a solid hour of bumming around at the top figuring out if it was worth trying before meeting Surafel and Ibrahima. According to Strava, it was over 4 hours of moving, so if you go straight up and straight down with no breaks, that’s an estimate. There are some tough miles in there, though – one has 1200+ ft of elevation gain. I knew it was steep, didn’t realize it was that steep! Like I said, hilarious that I thought it’d be a good trail run. I should mention all of the rocks and mini-scramble-hops you need to do once you’re out of the woods.

Surafel and Ibrahima, I can’t thank you enough! I hadn’t had a hike this spectacular since Mount Townsend back in January, and it’s a great feeling being able to look back and feel like I accomplished something. I had been trying not to get my hopes up that entire hike, because if I did, I’d be disappointed if I didn’t get to the basin and I’m trying to avoid my baby version of “peak fever.” But that just made the hike even more incredible. Happy hiking!

Screenshot of my Strava map

Bonus picture before you go! Because after this, it’s back to job apps, and eventually a late shift at REI. And let’s be real. This is way more fun.

Looking over the left side of the basin

Mount Forgotten (okay, just Forgotten Meadows)

Posted on February 21, 2015 by evejakubowski

Hiking all day ever day was a nice break from work (I learned that in Washington, you still don’t get overtime pay for shifts over 12 hours), so it was a perfect time for a mini vacation and a week of spoiling myself with a rental car. It’s amazing how you can have a vacation here without even leaving the state – that’s not something I really considered back in Illinois!. This hike was on Saturday, the 14th, and though forecasts called for clear skies, we got plenty of cloud action.

Waterfall joining Perry Creek

Distance: 10.5 miles
Elevation: 3700ft, 5350ft highest point (ish)
Weather: 40’s and everything
Commute from Seattle: 1:30-1:45ish
Did I trip: Crap, I don’t remember. Probably. One of us almost slipped into the creek?

We spent some time deliberating Friday night between Green Mountain, off the Siuattle River Road, Dickerman, and Forgotten. Dickerman I had done so I wasn’t too keen on it, though it would have been the safe choice. Green Mountain was a stretch: Dave was unfamiliar with hiking small mountains in snow, and I was unfamiliar with the area around it. So we ended up going to Mount Forgotten, in an area I know well. I’ll admit, I never expected to make it to the summit, but I figured it would be a good recon trip for future attempts on the peak. Avalanche conditions were moderate, and while I didn’t realize just how steep the saddle up to Forgotten was, I knew it’d be a tricky one. I also didn’t want to be stuck navigating off trail in thick clouds in several feet of snow if that was how the weather turned out.

Mt. Forgotten from the meadows

We parked in the Dickerman lot again, even though now I’m positive you can save a mile from the hike if you park by the road. I don’t have a good reason for skipping it. The highway was covered in those low fog clouds, but we figured we’d do Perry Creek/Forgotten Meadows anyway since at least the valley would have waterfalls and the like, whereas with Dickerman, you’re just doing steep switchbacks through forest for a while. I had previously made it about a mile past Perry Falls, but never beyond that, so this was also an opportunity to cover some new ground!

Peak peeking out from the clouds (ha)

Clouds moved in and out, we got stuck in a few minutes of rain here and there, but the trail was completely snow free. Not even a trace. It’s a fast hike up until the falls, and the only thing that slowed us down was that the clouds were occasionally giving us glimpses of a peak next to the Big Four (which were consistently covered by clouds) and I’m obsessive and had to us every opportunity to get a picture in case the clouds changed.

I did mark the washout where those zeolites were last time I did Perry Creek. It’s almost exactly 1.5 miles into the trail from the Dickerman parking lot, so go check those out! You can also scramble up (okay, more like hike over big rocks off trail, not quite a scramble) to a few waterfalls at the top, which looked neat.

Dave at the top of the falls

Perry Falls were much easier to pass this time, and we didn’t need to utilize the huge tree. After that, it’s two miles through forest! Every once in a while the fog turned into that sunlit fog that brightens everything. I got a picture of Dave next to the enormous tree that took out five switchbacks.

Huge blowdown, Dave for scale

This part of the hike was reminiscent of Dickerman in terms of difficulty, but with a much more open forest. After over a mile of that, the trees thinned, and we crested a ridge. Snow! Finally! We came to a small clearing overlooking the northwest side of the ridge. Dave looked unimpressed. “Is this the meadows…?” Fortunately, no, we still had a little under a half mile to go. The trail is lost at that point, so we followed the ridge through some trees and eventually to some footprints through snow. Oh, and we experienced three damn seasons within half an hour up there. Cloudy, then rainy, then snowy for a few minutes, and then some glimpses of sun. Yay, mountains!

We made it to the flat area just before you descend the ridge next to Forgotten, and met a couple there who had the same idea as us. They said the slope looked too dicey today, and if they weren’t doing it, neither were we. My logic taking people hiking is if I wouldn’t solo it, we aren’t doing it, unless the person I’m with has way more experience than me. If I’m not confident saving your ass, I’m probably not risking mine, unless it’s a safe opportunity to learn.

Mt. Forgotten showing its face

Rather than descend the slope, we climbed up a small peak (hill?) to the left of the meadows to see what views we could get. It was steep, but short, so no worries there. Except Dave didn’t have gaiters. Or poles. And neither of us had ice axes (again, I figured if there was a chance we needed to self arrest, we probably shouldn’t be risking it, so why bring them – same motto I follow solo). He got stuck at one point since he post-holed up to his waist, so I climbed back down to give him a pole and explain how to kick steps. To be fair, we skirted some tree wells, which wasn’t a great choice. Again, me making the mistake of being a follower and just staying behind the other couple we met instead of looking for a clearer route.

At the top of that small peak, we sat down for some snacks. I missed a hell of an opportunity for a time lapse, because guess what! Views opened up! Mt. Forgotten itself peaked out from behind clouds, and the valley beneath it even got some sun. We chatted with the couple about the route to Forgotten, best times to climb it, other peaks off Mountain Loop, and how the hell was the Mountain Loop Highway still open in February?

Dave’s first glissade!

After 20 minutes or so (maybe longer, I ate a lot) we picked a clearer route down, and rather than post-hole/plunge-step all the way, we made a glissade track. Which is always a blast. I could glissade all day, it brings me back to that five year old sense of excitement! We hiked back to the first clearing, I demanded tea, and we had a few more cloud/sun combo views before heading back through the forest.

Dave looking out across the valley

Fog moved back in until we were on the other side of the valley across the falls, when things got interesting. Peaks sneaking out again, some rays of sun, some rain, and my favorite: rainbows! Several of them! One was even a double rainbow. I don’t think I’d have even noticed them if I hadn’t been turning around every 10 feet to look back at the valley. Which made it harder to keep up with dave, who would literally be out of sight by the time I put the camera away and started hiking again. But the valley was prettier this time around with the clouds and rainbows, so I couldn’t help it.

Look closely – double rainbow!

We made it back to the car, and our GPS apps were drastically different. Elevation was about the same (just over a mile up!) but mine gave me 10.7 miles and Dave’s said something like 11.5. I know strava isn’t the most accurate, but I was surprised by that difference. Regardless, here’s a link to the map! Screenshot below.

But first, here’s another picture of a rainbow.

Just another rainbow

So I’d say overall, a good end to Dave’s PNW hiking. Pilchuk is tricky, but the others we did were easy. Like the ice caves, and Rattlesnake Ledge (group hike for the product testing I was doing) which didn’t warrant a blog entry, though it was a gorgeous day and I’d love to take kids to that hike. And at least now I’ve done it! It’s a classic that had been missing from my experience.

I’ll be back to do Forgotten when conditions are better. It’d be a great chance to camp at the meadows and then hit Forgotten and maybe a few others along the ridge over the next day or two. And it looks like views are phenomenal on a clear day. Dave only saw Baker and Glacier from the i90 bridge, never from a hike! But at least this vacation was like summer for him. The high in Evanston, IL the other day was 4 degrees. 4. I’ll chalk that up under the list of “things I don’t miss.”

Strava map (link above)

Mt. Pilchuck II and Big Four Ice Caves

Posted on February 17, 2015 by evejakubowski

So it’s true I was at Pilchuck just a month ago, but since Dave was here (did I point out that it’s the perfect excuse to rent a car for a week?), I figured it was a good staple hike to check out since it’s not too difficult but gives great views of both the Sound as well as the Cascades. Forecasts were all contradictory. Mountain weather (nwac) seems to be the most optimistic, while weather.com and weather.gov are much more… conservative. The drive there was through those medium altitude, thick clouds, and I had a feeling they weren’t going to clear up anytime soon. But we still gave it a shot! Hiked 2/12/2015.

View towards Glacier and Sloan from the lookout

Distance: 5.4 miles round trip
Elevation: 2300ft gain, 5230 highest point
Weather: 40’s and cloudy, much colder and windy at the lookout
Commute from Seattle: just over an hour
Did I Trip: I don’t think I did?

I was still a little worried about the washouts on the road as we drove up to the trailhead. Last time I was there, they were bad, and this time I was in a rental car with less clearance than my old accord. Good news was someone filled them in! Not all the way, but they at least filled in the deepest parts and marked the big rocks along the road. I imagine cars driving over it flattened it out as well, regardless it wasn’t a concern anymore. So we got to the top, parked, and off we went.

Whitehorse and Three Fingers before views disappeared

The neat thing about this hike is that the views start in the parking lot. Sure, you spend some time in the forest, but I like seeing Whitehorse and Three Fingers right off the bat. They were in full view when we got started. The trail through the forest was a bit wet, but no ice like back in January. Luckily this time I remembered my microspikes and wasn’t stuck lugging snowshoes up just in case.

Base of Rainier

When we first broke out of the forest (briefly) we could see just the base of Rainier, lit up yellow below the clouds. I didn’t even believe it was Rainier at first, until I realized what else could I possibly be looking at? We continued back into the forest, and I realized that despite being short and popular, Pilchuck is fairly technical. Lots of rocks, and surprisingly steep.

Pulley system?

At one point while hiking through a small boulder field there are some ruins(?) to the right of the trail – I took some pictures, but it looks like some old wires, a pulley system, and a huge concrete bunker-type concrete building (Dave had a better name for it).

Concrete structure

I have no idea what they could be for. I looked up some Pilchuck history on nwhikers.net, and it looks like they blasted off the top 10 feet of the mountain to build the lookout. To get materials up, they basically winched everything up by hand, so the pulleys could have been part of that? You can see traces of the blasting all over some of the rocks in that area, so it’s possible. But what the hell is the concrete structure for?

Dave on the ladder to the lookout

We didn’t hit snow until the last few hundred (vertical) feet of the trail. It wasn’t quite enough for microspikes. They could have been nice, but we weren’t moving too quickly, and I didn’t feel the need to stop and put them on so close to the lookout and with such a good path thanks to previous hikers. Soon enough, we came to the short scramble to the lookout. I put my poles behind me and started making my way up to the ladder. Damn, it was windy! I got to the balcony. I checked every corner for views. Snapped pics. And I ran to the door and ducked into the lookout. Time for layers! Oh wait, maybe a time lapse? Yeah, a time lapse. Ran outside, wrapped my camera around a trekking pole, and set it on the railing. That way if it fell, it’d only fall five feet instead of off the mountain.

Unfortunately, not as many views as last time. No Twin Sisters, no Baker, no Shuksan. Even Three Fingers had disappeared into the clouds. I don’t think Dave ever got to sneak a peek at Glacier, or Sloan.

Here’s the result of the timelapse:

View towards Seattle

Views towards Seattle were good, and it still feels like the mountains. Also, it was freezing. Back into the lookout! There were a few others in there with us. Two had a freaking feast of soups and sandwiches, while I sat there with my crappy tortillas and storebought hummus. And tea. Thank god for tea. Dave had some killer trail mix too, smores flavor(!) from QFC. We later returned to buy three more boxes. I got a few great recommendations for backpacking trips from one of the guys there, and after 30 minutes we turned around to go back down. I grabbed my camera and followed Dave, and we made pretty quick progress back to the trailhead.

Here’s a link to the strava map. And here’s a screenshot.

Mt. Pilchuck trail map

With a solid two hours of daylight left (rainy daylight, but still light) we figured we’d knock off the Big Four Ice Caves as well. It’s a very easy trail. Sections are either paved, covered in gravel, or built on bridges full with even dirt. Nothing tricky to negotiate. And a warning sign what felt like ever five feet for avalanche danger.

Dave looking at the cave

Distance: 2.2 miles round trip
Elevation: 200ft gain, 1900ft highest point
Weather: 40’s and rainy
Commute from Seattle: just under an hour and a half
Did I trip: Yes, we both did. We got complacent, dammit

Avalanche warnings!

It was a quick hike. The forest was pleasant, but we wanted to see the caves. It did look like there were traces of an old trail to the caves, so I’m curious how long ago they built the current one. You don’t get as many glimpses of the Big Four peaks as I expected, but when you break into the avalanche zone below them, you can see small waterfalls cascading down the ridges which was still pretty neat. We did hop off the trail to get closer to the cave, but didn’t go in. There are memorial plaques to a 12 year old who was killed by the caves when a part collapsed, which is definitely a dampener on mood but probably necessary considering how many people go inside to check it out.

Beautifully groomed trail

Even if it wasn’t a long, difficult hike, it was a classic that I needed to get off the list. I had been saving it for a cloudy day, and the time had come. One of the old headline pictures on the wta trail page showed several caves, so I have to wonder how it looks early in summer after a real winter with snow. Aka not what we’re getting right now. I can’t even believe the mountain loop highway is still open. I thought I’d be snowshoeing it by now!

Here’s a link to the strava map for the ice caves.

Big Four Ice Caves trail map

Wait! I got a sick panorama at the ice caves. Just found out I can turn the camera vertical and take them that way, and actually try to catch the height of the peaks. Check it out.

Panorama, baby

Mason Lake

Posted on February 13, 2015 by evejakubowski

After two weeks of no hikes for the first time since September, I’m finally back on track – at least temporarily. A friend is visiting from Chicago, I have a rental car for the week, five days off, and that means… hikes! Dave’s plane landed around noon on Wednesday, and I can’t put into words how happy I was driving a freshly rented car down i5 for the first time in weeks. Back to routine: day off, hop in the car, get to the trails. After a quick lunch we were headed out to Mason Lake/Bandera Mountain. We got to the trailhead in mid-afternoon, and I didn’t think we’d have time for Bandera, but I figured we’d make a decision at the junction depending on how long we took to get there. If the title of this post wasn’t a big enough spoiler alert, we ended up doing Mason Lake.

Distance: 6.5 miles round trip
Elevation: 2400ft gain, 4300 highest point
Weather: 40’s and cloudy
Commute from Seattle: an hour
Did I Trip: yes

Mason Lake from the outlet stream

I hadn’t been back to this trailhead since October, when I hiked Bandera. I didn’t expect it to be accessible in February, but that can be said for a lot of the hikes this winter. We brought along microspikes just in case, but didn’t expect much snow. I got my rental Subaru down the potholed road (lower clearance than my old Accord, somehow), and started out around 2:30.

River crossing

This is a well maintained, straightforward trail. Crossing the river was fun since someone had placed a few branches across it, complete with a tall one to use as a railing instead of rock-hopping. Eventually the wide trail narrows and steepens, and it starts to feel like a real hike and less like an old road. Views open up at the first switchback, and I started to realize how much I already take this for granted. While I was whining about hearing i90, Dave was taking pictures in every direction. Despite being cloudy, we could see half of Rainier, and most of the peaks in the i90 corridor. We could even see back to Seattle, which I don’t think I noticed last time. I must have been too busy looking at Rainier.

Looking back along the trail towards Rainier

We got to the junction of Bandera and Mason Lake after about an hour, glanced up at the steepness of the Bandera trail, and headed towards Mason Lake. I had never done Mason Lake, so that’s what I was hoping for anyway – perfect! Finally, a new hike. You continue across a slope facing i90, which I’m sure is a gorgeous meadow in spring and summer but in winter was just barren, brown grasses and rocks. Just before entering the woods again, there’s a small boulder field to the left of the trail. We stopped there to take a few pictures and scramble around, and found the Ira Spring memorial plaque, which was a neat surprise.

Greener than the entire state of Illinois right now

Continuing into the woods, I had another “holy shit it’s so green” moment surrounded by trees and moss. Like I said, Dave’s coming from Chicago, which is freezing and barren right now, and was basically happy to hike in a t shirt since this might as well be summer compared to where he was 24 hours earlier. Even crossing the exposed slope, there wasn’t much wind.

Cracks in the ice along Mason Lake

In fact, the windiest area was by far the lake, which we reached shortly after the trail junction. Mason Lake was mostly frozen over, with a few cracks running through the thawing ice. It’s crazy to think that just a few weeks ago, a couple guys camped out on top of the frozen lake. We crossed the outlet stream and followed the “lower trail” to the side of the lake to get some pictures from boulders on the shore. The “main trail” is the trail that connects many of the lakes in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness. I remember being excited when I realized Pratt was connected to Talapus and Ollalie and Rainbow and Island and even Melakwa which was connected to Tuskohatchie… well throw Mason into that mix with a few others, because the trails all interconnect. I’ll backpack that route somehow, and then scurry up Defiance to see as many as I can see.

Couldn’t resist

We turned around a little before 4:30 after taking a short break at the lake, and it was perfect timing. The way down went much more quickly, and we got back to the trailhead in just over an hour. Perfect timing, because the “hint of sun” that was peeking through the clouds had finally set. I’d say Dave had a pretty solid first few hours in the state of Washington. Even if it’s a six mile round trip off i90, there’s plenty out here that you just don’t get back in Illinois. I remember the first time I saw Rainier on a hike, I was running up Kendall Katwalk on a hike and glanced behind me after leaving the forest and seeing Rainier peaking out and absolutely losing my mind.

Here’s a quick map of the hike on Strava if you want to see the trail and topography. No surprises there, we never left the trail. Overall, great quick hike, and one of the few popular ones off i90 that I hadn’t checked out yet!

Screenshot of the map

Sourdough Mountain/Stetattle Ridge and some Bad News

Posted on February 4, 2015 by evejakubowski

Capital “B” capital “N” type Bad News. The blog will most likely be on hiatus for a while due to a lack of transportation. I was unfortunately rear-ended (sandwiched between two cars) on i-5 a few weeks ago. Sadly, I had been on my way to climb Mount Saint Helens. What I thought was a fender-bender ended up being two new bumpers, a new trunk, new side panels since the back of each was warped, and a new seatbelt, which apparently added up to a totaled car (sorry folks, I’m not exactly driving a benz out here). And the bastard who hit me drove off when he realized the extent of the damage. So here I am, shackled to the concrete jungle on account of some bum who is probably freely whizzing around in his bigass SUV with nary a scratch on his shiny, chrome grill.

Anyway, my priorities are out of line and last Friday I caved and rented a car to take advantage of the sunny weather. Really, it had to be sunny and gorgeous for the first two weeks that I had no car. But hey, I’ll put part of my retail paycheck into a rental if it means getting out on a great day once every week or two (to think I used to be out there 2-3 days a week, damn). What I forgot was that renting a car leaves me at their mercy: if they open at 8, I get a car at 8. I can return it first thing the next morning and have it count as one day, but I can’t pick it up the day before, use it the whole next day, and return it first thing and have that called one day if that makes sense. So I had to either leave after 8am or be back by 6pm. Okay, I’ll leave at 8am, that’s the safer choice.

So, 8:05 I stroll into the Enterprise a few blocks away and luckily they had a car ready to go, which apparently is rare. Sweet. And the woman who helped me was the daughter of my college chemistry professor back at Northwestern! She saw my last rental was in Evanston and we chatted. Ha, small world. Anyway, I’m sure I looked hilarious walking down the street with my ice axe, snowshoes, microspikes clipped to my day pack, the works. It was game time. I dropped everything in the trunk of a shiny new Hyundai Elantra and got behind the wheel and realized shit, there are no gears, how do you know if you’re in drive!? Does something on the dashboard light up if you’re in drive? What do I do with my left foot? Nothing? Oh, no, the light up letters are next to the stick, okay. No clutch, just… put it… in… reverse… and now drive… and… that’s it. Great, I was on my way. Aside from instinctively trying to downshift the first few times I came to a stop light (and every time I exited a highway), it was smooth sailing. No left-foot-braking over here.

Could be a summer trail

I arrived at the Sourdough “trailhead” around 11am, which was maybe four hours later than I’d have liked but hey, rentals. This was only the beginning of my problems. I found the sign for the trail, but where the hell was the trail? Someone had told me to “just start walking and you’ll intersect with it” so that’s what I did, until I was still bushwacking after 15 minutes and turned around. The trailhead is to the right of the building! A solid 100ft from the sign! After that wasted half hour, I was eager to get moving.

It was unbelievably warm and sunny, and I wondered if I’d even need the microspikes. Snowshoes were certainly overkill, but I wanted to put my new day pack through some rigorous activity. I’m product-testing a new pack for REI (which has been less fun than I expected now that I have no car) so I figured I’d keep the snowshoes.

Sneak peeks of views!

The trail was up. And then up some more. And again. Turn a corner, more up. Much of it looked like second-growth forest, and between the sun, the ridiculously warm weather, and the green, it could have been a summer hike. I expected to go off trail around 3800-4000ft, so I was keeping an eye on elevation gain and topographical features. You get sneak peaks of the surrounding mountains, and boy did it look spectacular. I couldn’t wait to get up to the Stetattle Ridge. Alas, after weeks of no hiking and sporadic running, I am not in marathon shape anymore! My ass is slow. And I lost the snowbaskets on my hiking poles. But it was great to just be out again, especially in an area I was so unfamiliar with. I had done hikes that got me close to North Cascades National Park, but I had never been within it! I didn’t know any of the surrounding peaks.

View from my tea spot

My unfamiliarity led to a classic rookie mistake. Rather than following the maps I had laid out of the winter route, I found a bunch of footprints and decided to give those a shot instead. They’re more likely to have experience with the area, right? We’ll just see where they go. Well I imagine that eventually they ended up at a saddle between Sourdough and the ridge I was aiming for, but I didn’t have the time to find out, and they got tricky to follow after a bit anyway. These guys had been post-holing alone a relatively steep slope through trees the entire way, I can’t even believe they made it as far as they did. When I hit my turnaround time, I headed back to the boundary between the national park and forest and sat on a log looking over a valley for snacks and some tea since I clearly wasn’t going to make it to the actual ridge without descending in darkness. Which I considered, but given my luck thus far, I probably shouldn’t push it.

Hiking in the day pack

Plus, my day pack was not impressing me. At all. In fact, it had gotten quite uncomfortable. Yes, I overpacked it by every definition of overpacking (the snowshoes were strapped onto the outside with an ace bandage because I was “resourceful” aka “too cheap to buy a real pack or bungee cords or cut my 50-yard-rope”) but I didn’t think it’d be that bad. It was probably the snowshoes that pushed it past its limits, since everything else fit inside. But the thin straps were digging into my shoulder and the hipbelt did nothing with the weight of the pack besides keep it from bouncing up and down when I hiked. The chest strap pulled the weight forward which was nice, but it was still centered on my shoulders, and I was starting to feel it. But it’s more versatile than the pack I’ve been using, at least, which doesn’t have any outside straps or hip belt or chest strap.

When I first stood up from my snack I was discouraged. Bummer to go all that way to not make it to the top, but you can’t win em’ all, and I’ve had some great hikes out here. The way down went much more quickly than the way up. Well, quickly at first, until I realized a song was popping into my head. “Ey yo Vanilla! Kick it one ti-” No. No! I did not come here for this! It was worse than hustling down Alta Mountain with “It’s Raining Men” in my head and that was pretty bad. Luckily I was down in about an hour and a half – if I had known, I’d have played around a big more at the top – and this fancy rental had an ipod jack (whoa) so I could listen to anything I damn well pleased. And clouds moved in as I was descending, so I don’t feel like I missed out on much. I managed to snap a pic of the day pack in use (okay, I could have tried harder) but I’ll have to take it on a few more excursions. I took it for a few runs in Seattle and it was actually fine for those, though I didn’t pack it with much at all. But this time, I was relieved to take it off back at the car. Though I couldn’t help but think it should have been my Accord waiting at the bottom.

I will definitely have to head back to the Stetattle ridge area if the weather clears up again, maybe in early spring. I’ve seen pictures of groups snow-camping up there, and it looks absolutely incredible. For now, it looks like we have a solid stretch of rain ahead of us, so maybe I will find some cute cafes to read in and have to live vicariously. Or I’ll be the chick arrested for bivvying in the arboretum.

Mount Townsend

Posted on January 27, 2015 by evejakubowski

If you’re looking at the Olympics from Seattle (for example, from my lovely roof deck), the rightmost peak of the Olympics is Mount Townsend. I didn’t realize this until the day after I climbed it, when I happened to be looking at a labeled picture of the skyline viewed from the city. This was a combination of Mount Townsend and also Welch’s Peaks, which are along the same ridge as the summit of Townsend.

Distance: 8.2 miles
Elevation: 3200ft gain, 6200 highest point
Weather: bizarre: foggy and 40’s on one side of the ridge, sunny and 40’s on the other side of the ridge
Commute from Seattle: 3 hours
Did I Trip: NO! Which is great, because I had people to impress

The group crossing a small slope

I made a spontaneous decision (as usual) to join a meet up group for the first time. I had never really attended a meetup event before, but this peak was tempting and the group seemed open to allowing me to tag along as a newbie. They’re all seasoned hiking/climbing veterans, and I was quite literally the impulsive kid along for the ride. Perfect learning opportunity.

I left Seattle around 6am, picked up Selena (another hiker), and we met Woody and Tanna at a WalMart and carpooled the rest of the way. On the way, I got stories of mishaps, rescues, slow inexperienced newcomers (hopefully not me), just a taste of what they’ve experienced before. I only had a small bag so I worried I looked underprepared, but I had everything I needed. The only piece I was worried about was my sunglasses, which were cheap freebies from the Cushe rep that he had dropped off at REI a week earlier. Glacier glasses were (and still are) in the mail.

Clouds moving in from the left (east)

When we started, the trail was completely free of snow and it was sunny. The road was also paved all the way to the trailhead(!) which made for easy going. I had never been to the Olympics before, and the forest felt completely different from the Cascades. For starters, rhodedendrons everywhere! We weren’t in the rainforest part of the Olympics since we were on the far east side. The first bit of the trail is through the woods, though eventually you have some short breaks on open slopes before turning back into the trees. There was a thick patch of clouds coming towards us, and we figured we’d get to the saddle and decide based on visibility whether we’d do the summit first or the lower Welch’s Peaks.

The best thing from the start about hiking with these three was the sheer amount of knowledge they had about our surroundings. Woody and Tanna had done this hike many times before and knew exactly where to go even with the trail completely covered in snow. They all had extensive avalanche experience, and were able to explain why we were crossing certain slopes, things to look for to evaluate conditions, weather patterns to consider. I had read much of the advice, but it’s completely different when you’re hearing it explained in the actual wilderness. I have “beginner’s bliss-” I haven’t had anything scary happen to me yet, so I’m generally oblivious of the possibilities, though I try to be aware of that fact.

There were slopes we crossed that were definitely avalanche terrain, and a few I’d never have crossed alone. I’m impulsive, but I’m a chicken. Okay, maybe I’ve been reading a few too many books about K2 lately. And just read an article about an avalanche on Granite Mountain. Which is one of the most popular hikes out here. Most of the slopes on our hike were small, and we didn’t even see a slide happen.

I couldn’t resist. Views behind me to the west, which was the clear side.

Once we got to the saddle (after many switchbacks) we figured we’d do Welch’s first. Townsend was in and out of fog, so we scrambled to the left to check out the lower areas first. The valley to the east was full of clouds, but to the west, it was completely clear. The clouds made it an unbelievably beautiful scene. I’m still not over how cool it looked.

Looking up at Woody at the top of one Welch’s Peak (almost)

We scrambled a short way before the boulder wells got too deep to deal with and we decided to head over to Townsend. Woody scouted out a route across a slope that we could traverse to avoid some more serious scrambling, and we followed his lead.

Risky picture, the clouds looked incredible from below just peeking over the peaks

In places, the slope was fresh powder on top of a sheet of ice. I was warned to kick steps very carefully, and I remember following Selena’s every step (Selena, if you’re reading this, thank you!!) and trying to kick in just as slowly and mindfully as she did. It was like being an eager five year old eagerly learning from the big kids. I’ve kicked steps often before, I have no idea why this time was different. Probably because I had people to learn from.

Selena coming up the ridge

Tanna pointed out that in general on a slope like that we should have ice axes just in case (it was exposed and a little steep) and Selena pointed out that in powder, the axe wouldn’t exactly help much. Luckily, some of our steps kicked down to shrubbery, which made it a bit easier, and soon enough we were on the ridge.

The ridge was gorgeous. I’ll have to go back there to run it in the summer. There’s a trail that goes along the entire ridge from the scramble to the summit and then beyond. Turning around and seeing the clouds on one half spilling onto the clear side was stunning. When we set up for snacks I had the brilliant idea (no idea how this didn’t occur to me months ago) of just taking a video and speeding it up once I was hope. Color wasn’t great because of glare and my point-n-shoot’s stark lack of adjustability, but it’s still pretty cool. And with that, I present to you my first time lapse!

Moon Cheese!

Moon Cheese was my snack of choice. Turns out REI just started carrying it, which means even more of my paycheck will be going back to my employers. REI: Recycled Employee Income. That’s the joke among us. And it’s too true. I had a ton of tea and several oat bars and a kind bar. I had enough food to last me a solid day or two up there. So I chowed down. At one point (I didn’t get a good lapse of this) the clouds moved in just enough to cover everything except for a small peak, and we could have been at 22,000ft. Looking past the snow and rocks out to clouds with a peak sticking out in the fog.

Baker poking up over the clouds

Oh, and the entire Sound was covered in fog, as were the Cascades. With the exception of Baker, which we could see just poking up over the top of the clouds. We spent maybe 45 minutes just admiring views from the summit before heading back down.

Sun streaming through trees and fog

Back down into the fog, which had enveloped that side of the ridge. We went from being above the clouds in a blue sky, sunny day to what felt like a different world.

small snowdrifts

Cloudy with no sun, still a pretty hike, but not as stunning as it had been with views. But like I said, the clouds along the ridge felt like a one-time experience, and descending in clouds was a fair trade. We got back to the car quickly, piled in, and headed back to Seattle with a short stop for tea and ice cream (or milkshakes, or quesadillas, or whatever you so desired) on the way.

Topo map of the hike

Oh! In addition to the time lapse, I also have… our first topographical map of the trail! What! I tested a running app, Strava, that allegedly worked in the mountains. Success! It wasn’t 100% accurate (we compared it to Selena and Tanna’s GPSes) but hey, it’s close enough for my purposes. It was off by about 200ft of elevation and .1 miles, but the path is fairly consistent considering how relatively infrequently it tracks your coordinates. Here you go! More info about elevation is here. Unfortunately you cannot download it or zoom in (I just discovered that) but you get an idea.

This was an unbelievable trip. I hadn’t gone on a completely new hike in a while, and it was refreshing to feel adventurous again instead of repeating the same hikes I had already done. I can’t thank the Peaks group enough – it was a perfect first introduction, and I hope they schedule more that I can go to. It’s great fun hiking with people who know so much more than I do. It makes me realize how much there is to learn, which, if anything, just fuels the desire to get out there even more. So if you’re reading this, thanks guys!

Perry Creek

Posted on January 21, 2015 by evejakubowski

Another “drive to the highway and make a game time decision hike,” though this time it was unintentional. I intended to get to Goat Lake to go for a trail run since I was sick of city streets and stop lights and pedestrians but wanted something a little more remote than cougar/tiger mountains. As it turned out, just because a road is “open” does not mean it’s clear, and my car couldn’t make it to Goat Lake. It couldn’t make it past the Gothic Basin/Barlow Pass area, where the mountain loop highway turns to gravel and a foot of ice and snow. So I turned around and went to check out Perry Creek, the back up run. Anyway, as usual on a Wednesday, I had to be back in Seattle by 2, so my time was limited. Hiked/run 1/14/2015.

Distance: 10.5 miles round trip (if you make it to the meadows – to the falls and back is only 6.5 miles)
Elevation: 3400ft gain, 5250 highest point (again, if you get to the meadows.. you know where this is going)
Weather: 30’s and sunny
Commute from Seattle: 1:30 if roads are clear
Did I Trip: ~~Some close calls, but no~~ Actually yes, into a river, dammit

I left Seattle around 6am. Too chicken to start a trail alone in the dark, I was hoping to get there just as sunrise was starting to lighten everything up. By the time I got there, the sun had officially risen. “If roads are clear” means two things: traffic and snow/ice. I took the road salting back in the midwest and northeast for granted. Out here, even a small layer of frost can make roads slippery. I wasn’t worried until I crossed several sets of errant tracks that all looked like spin-outs, and that’s when I slowed down and bit just to play it safe. So it took me a big longer than 1:30 to get there, especially because I passed the trailhead hoping to make it to Goat Lake but had to reevaluate my plan.

Big Four just after sunrise

I will say, pink o’clock in the mountains is gorgeous. Even just driving down the highway, when I turned around to head back west towards Perry Creek, I caught a glimpse of Three Fingers lit up pink by the sun. I almost pulled over to snap a picture, but I figured I’ll have chances to snow camp and watch sunrise later this winter. When I got to the Perry Creek/Mt Dickerman trailhead, I was the only car. It was just after 8am by that point, so I was eager to get moving.

The first mile of the trail is very flat and can actually be avoided by parking near a blocked-off dirt road that led to the old Perry Creek trailhead. Wanting to get in a run, I figured I’d keep the mile.

This much green, even in January!

I forget that the lower forests here are so damn green. It was like running through summer. The moss and evergreens are still alive and well, despite sub-freezing temperatures.

Eventually the new path intersects with the old ravel road, equally flat, that takes you to the old trailhead. Usually this would be unimportant and unimpressive, but some bum (trust me I ran through a dozen more harsh words) had left a nice pile of feces and toilet paper smack in the middle of the road. How can you be that disgusting? Does it take that much effort to go ten steps away into the bushes, or bury it, or carry it out? Leave no trace, folks! We want to use this trail too, and I prefer my trails poop-free. Bear scat, cougar crap, okay, but human shit and trash? Someone made a conscious decision to leave it there. Ugh.

Perry Creek down below

Okay, passed that, and made it to the official trail. A few more steps through forest, and I popped out onto the east side of a valley. Cool! Bad news? Shady. Didn’t think of that. More bad news? Shade = no sun to melt the frost, and it turns out frosty leaves and rocks are even more slippery than wet leaves and rocks. Time to start hiking instead of running. Which was disappointing, because a mostly-dead-shady-valley isn’t very gorgeous. I also expected to be right next to Perry Creek, but it turns out you’re quite far above it. But hey, I was out there, and that’s all I wanted. Looking behind me, Big Four Mountain was in view with the moon just over it. Unrelated question: why the hell is it “big four” when there are five peaks? I counted several times to make sure I wasn’t crazy.

I hit some patchy snow starting about three miles into the trail, including a small avalanche that looked like it had been from a week ago. Nowhere was there enough snow or ice for microspikes. It was an annoying in-between, where it was slippery but not thick enough for spikes to bite.

The top of Perry Falls. It continues down another 20ish vertical feet

I had been hoping to make it to Forgotten Meadows, but unfortunately, time was short, and I had planned badly. It would have been very possible to run 10.5 miles on a beautiful sunny summer day, but I didn’t factor in frost or elevation gain, most of which happens in the last two miles. Perry Falls was surprisingly beautiful, with its deep turquoise pool down below. It’s too bad I couldn’t get closer.

Snowy/icy log crossing

I had read a previous trip report about the river crossing that suggested a snowy log further upstream, which I found easily and hopped across.

Large downed tree across trail

And that’s where the hike became real. Up, up, up, switchback after switchback. There was a huge tree down that had knocked out four or five switchbacks. Sounds like it had been there for a while judging by past trip reports, and people had been cutting most of the trail. I could follow a few pieces of the trail, but eventually the tree was too big to climb over and I had to cut them as well and just go straight up. It’s too bad I was solo, because “person for scale” would have helped. I didn’t even have my poles with me to use for scale since I don’t usually bring them on trail runs.

I finally reached the sunshine after about an hour and a half from the start. Crossing the creek leads you up the west side of the valley, where the sun actually reaches, and stepping into it was gorgeous. Despite knowing I had to turn around in ten minutes, I figured I’d enjoy the sun for a bit before descending back into the shade. Looking back at the map, I realized I was probably only half a mile from the meadows. Bad timing.

One of the many waterfalls across the valley

The way back went much more quickly than the way up. If I had known, I’d probably have made it to the meadows. I did manage to trip into the creek as I was crossing it and filled my boots with water like a pro. Knowing goretex boots wouldn’t just “dry” as I walked, I stopped to dump out some of the water and put my trust in my wool socks. I could run back nearly the whole way from this point as much of the frost had melted, with the exception of some patchy snow and rock chutes. Turned out the last part of the trail was in the sun (once you exit the valley), so I had a nice conclusion to my morning escapade.

Back into the sun!

The coolest part of the hike was the detour I took on the way in. About two miles into the trail there was a drainage chute. I’m not sure what else to call it – it looked like a steep old dried-up creek bed that had a few waterfalls at the top. Thinking it might be an offshoot of the trail, I started climbing up it (not sure if it even qualifies as a scramble) and figured I’d go for five minutes, see what was up there, and turn around.

Zeolites!

Five minutes wasn’t enough for me to make it to the falls, but I found something much cooler. Zeolites! Right where I was going to turn around, I looked down and spotted a rock (small boulder?) with several pockets of crystals in it, ranging from just a centimeter in diameter to three inches. Holy shit. I had never seen anything like it out in the wilderness. I had seen the polished rocks and geodes my dad used to hide for me in the yard when I was little, and these were like that except truly natural. I had no idea what they were – I thought geodes, but couldn’t imagine finding those around here, so I took a few pictures hoping I’d find someone to ask. On the way back down the washout, I found several more, some that were just off the trail. I hustled home to post a trip report and see if anyone would have information.

Old drainage chute I hiked up

I didn’t expect many responses, but one poster noticed it and sent it off to his geologist buddy, who replied! I’m obviously late writing this blog post, so I’ll explain the guess that Dave and Randy (thanks guys!) had. Apparently, they’re formed when pockets of gas become trapped in basalt lava as it cools. The white crystals are zeolites, which grow inside those pockets when mineral-rich water seeps through the rock. It’s neat stuff, and those rocks turned what would have been a very average hike into a morning I was excited to talk about. Hopefully there will be a few others out there who think it’s just as cool.

I’ll definitely be going back. For a few reasons. I’d love to check out those rocks again and see if I can find more. I also gotta make it to the Forgotten Meadows. Mt Forgotten might be feasible with the right people and equipment given the low snow accumulation this year, so it can be a scouting trip for that as well. Regardless, the views from the meadows look amazing on a clear day, and I bet they look even better with some snow. We’ll see what happens!

Mt. Pilchuck

Posted on January 17, 2015 by evejakubowski

Looking out my window at the dreary rain, I figure it’s a good time to chat about last week’s Wednesday hike. 1/7/2015. First I have to vow to remember the second “c” in “Pilchuck.” My first inversion day!

Trail along a talus slope just above the trees, inversion fog in the background

Distance: 5.4 miles round trip
Elevation: 2300ft gain, 5300 highest point
Weather: 60’s(!) and sunny(!!!!!)
Commute from Seattle: Just over an hour
Did I Trip: Yes, faceplant into snow.

So, what’s an inversion day? I’m still not sure of the science behind it (read several articles but none sounded particularly strong) but what it results in is lower temperatures down low, and higher temperatures up high. Usually, the higher you go, the lower the temperature. What’s neat is that those low temperatures keep fog trapped at lower elevations. That means you can climb above it. Actually, here’s an amazing pic of the Grand Canyon on a rare inversion day. Pilchuk was a bit too far away from the lowlands to feel like I was touching it (Snoqualmie Peak probably would have been perfect) but it was still pretty amazing.

I left Seattle around 7:30 in the morning. It was cloudy in the city, and I couldn’t see the Space Needle from my breakfast window, so I picked a short easy hike. Big Four Ice Caves was the goal. 2 miles, flat, see some ice caves, minimal views besides the actual Big Four Mountain, good for a cloudy lazy day. But as I was driving down i5, I started going through some of the coolest patchy fog I’ve ever been in. Unfortunately my camera skills while driving are sub par (is that good or bad?) so I have no examples, but it went from 10 foot visibility to misty to fog illuminated pink by sunrise surrounding green trees to fog lit up whitish yellow once the sun had risen. And by the time I got to the Mountain Loop Highway, it was clear.

Okay, regroup. Can’t waste a clear day on a two mile hike. Gotta be at work by 2, it’s already 9, it’s an hour drive at least to get back. Game time decision: Mt. Pilchuck. If my car can make it. And I’ll haul ass, I swear. If not, I’ll turn around and do the ice caves, since it’s so short I’ll have plenty of time. And I took that right turn, and headed up to Mt. Pilchuck.

Good news: road was completely melted out. Some rough washouts that I’d definitely recommend high clearance vehicles for, but we made it. Bad news: I forgot my microspikes. The trail was supposed to be icy and snow covered at the top Cool. I had snowshoes in the trunk, so I lashed them to my backpack with a nasty dirty ace bandage that I got after my knee incident at Annette Lake a few months ago and got moving. I had just under three hours to make it up and down. Doesn’t sound too bad, until you consider 1) not having traction on ice and snow 2) post-holing in snow 3) I’m relatively out of shape (don’t say anything).

Fog covering the towns below looking towards the Sound

Ice was avoidable on most of the trail in the woods. Last time I was here, I was racing Emma, Emilie, and Andy to the top to beat sunset, which we were dying to see. We made it just in time, and I do think it was one of the best sunsets I had ever seen. We’ll see if I ever have a day to take a stroll up Pilchuck. I passed a few people who had microspikes (jealous) and briefly said hi before continuing up.

Glacier (center) Sloan (right)

Once you hit the snow, peaks stark making their presence known through gaps in trees. Eventually you’re crossing some small talus fields and views take over. Looking back towards Seattle. Over the Puget Sound. The first time I hiked Pilchuck I looked at the sound, turned to Emilie, and said “Is that Lake Washington?!” By now I know at least a few. Glacier Peak, Baker, Shuksan, Twin Sisters, they’re all out. A surprisingly convenient viewpoint for so many peaks in the Cascades, so close to Seattle.

Twin Sisters, Baker, Shuksan, something, El Dorado(?)

Left to right: Twin Sisters, Baker, Shuksan, Bacon; Whitehorse and three Fingers closer (Thanks Luke!)

I started post-holing around the time the views opened up. On a regular, slow-moseying day, it might not have been an issue. But I didn’t have time for maneuvering, so I strapped on the snowshoes and continued on my merry way. I passed a young couple in casual shoes taking a break, hoping they were close to the top. Not quite yet, my friends. Someone once told me “20 minutes!” around that point and it took me another hour. That was this past summer, with an over-stuffed 60L backpack. I was a bit faster now. I was recognizing landmarks, too.

Thin rock – taller than me and just a few inches thick

The weirdly skinny rock. The bamboo pole. The steps where Andy picked blueberries last time while Emma and Emilie and I jog-hiked to try and make sunset. And finally, the turn where you reach some boulders to scramble over in order to get to the summit. Which, turns out, is quite awkward in snowshoes. The two guys at the lookout heard me coming. Dragging my spikey snowshoes up the ladder and across the clear wooden lookout deck. Taking them off would take a few minutes I might not have if I wanted to safely get to work on time. It’s like wearing flippers on a pool deck, but more goofy and less fun. And louder. I looked down at these guys’ feet and what were they wearing? Vans. Freaking vans. And there I was in snowshoes. Hilarious contrast. Oh, and pouring sweat (don’t let that happen in winter folks), because for every 500 feet I gained in altitude it warmed up 10 degrees. I was down to base layers and even that was too much – I should have worn shorts and a t shirt.

Looking out over the Sound, Olympics on the left in the distance

I clomped over to the side of the lookout that gazed over the Sound, and for once, that view was more stunning than the mountains behind me. Most of the snow had melted, and the peaks didn’t look as imposing as they usually do. But the fog over the Sound, Rainier peaking out over the clouds, the Olympics in the distance, those were breathtaking. I handed my camera to one of the Vans kids and asked if he could snap a quick picture, and he nailed it. I thanked him and turned around to head back down, after spending probably five minutes up there. Oh, I did take a quick trip in to the lookout – it has maps of the peaks in every direction, and I had to know what the hell was poking up next to Baker. It had never occurred to me that there was another significant mountain in that direction. Twin Sisters! The south twin is just over 7,000ft, the north is around 6600ft, and there are several glaciers on the northeast slopes. That’s another idea I’ve had to come to terms with living out here. The fact that there are glaciers even on lower peaks. I always assumed it was something reserved for enormously tall mountains, not something I’d have to consider hiking to Three Fingers or scrambling Mt. Stuart.

Rainier over the clouds

I also learned that going down a ladder in snowshoes is awkward and difficult. But after that eight foot ladder, I high-tailed it down. I ran into the same couple I passed on the way up (almost there, for real!) and then into the two ladies I had passed first, who told me it had been below freezing at the trailhead and was mid 60’s near the top! They confirmed that it was an inversion day. Fantastic. I kept up my quick pace, made it back to shallow snow, took off the snowshoes, face planted, carried on. Back through the woods. Finally ran into a group of guys on their way up – “how much longer to the parking lot?” I asked. “Eh, maybe… 10 minutes? You’re pretty close.” Holy shit. That meant it had not even been an hour since I was at the top. Thrilled (I won’t be late to work! If I don’t hit traffic…) I assumed they had miscalculated. A few steps later, I saw a familiar looking shaggy white dog: it was Merritt, from when I hiked Mt. Dickerman back in December! I stopped to say hi to her owner and wish him a good hike. Turned out the group of guys had been right: ten minutes later, I was at the parking lot. Made it down in just over an hour.

I tossed everything in the car and drove home. No traffic, just in time for work. Oh, and “work” was taking someone’s dog for an hour run. Dinner was extra delicious that night.

Have Tent, Will Travel

Trail running, mountaineering, and the occasional wipeout

Author Archives: evejakubowski

Heather Lake

Boulder Lake/Olympic Hot Springs

Gothic Basin

Mount Forgotten (okay, just Forgotten Meadows)

Mt. Pilchuck II and Big Four Ice Caves

Mason Lake

Sourdough Mountain/Stetattle Ridge and some Bad News

Mount Townsend

Perry Creek

Mt. Pilchuck