Artist Point Snowshoe

Posted on January 13, 2015 by evejakubowski

I just realized this was my first hike/snowshoe since the beginning of the new year! And what a way to bring it in. 1/6/2015. I’ve been slacking on the hikes because I’ve had so many days at work (retail paychecks are… not generous) but I managed to squeeze in a few. Apparently I’m lucky that this is my first winter here – plenty of nice days and not too much rain. Even as I sit here a week later, we’re talking sunny, blue skies and incredible sunsets.

Anyway, Artist Point!

Lee traversing a knoll with Shuksan in the background

Distance: 5.5 miles round trip
Elevation: 1200ft gain, 5200ft highest point
Weather: 40’s and overcast
Commute from Seattle: Almost 3 hours
Did I Trip: Yes, I post-holed and tripped over a treetop that was buried beneath the snow. Elegantly (not)

So this was my day off, if you ignore the clinics we had to go to at 8am. Lee and I had plans to hike afterwards, and I was thinking we’d do something short out by Snoqualmie. Checking the weather during clinics, it was supposed to be clear, and I just couldn’t bear wasting a clear day on freaking i90. Luckily, we were both free all day, and Lee was game to do anything. We stopped at a cute little scooby-doo-van-coffee-shop near the REI parking lot (Carabiner Coffee) and we were on our way. The plan was to drive north on i5 and see how the views were. If it was cloudy, we’d head to something off Rt 2 or Mountain Loop. If Baker was out… well, we’d go to Baker.

I’m glad I’m at this point with my Cascades knowledge. I can pick a highway and just immediately know 10 hikes and how accessible they’ll be and whether they’ll be worth it on a given day. Spring/summer are going to be amazing knowing what I know now. So we’re 30 miles up i5 when we turn a corner, and… [cue angelic music] BAM. BAKER. LEE! LEE WE’RE GOING TO BAKER! She was down to listen to my impulsive decision, and we readjusted our seats ready for another two hours in the car.

Shuksan over Picture Lake

It wasn’t “sunny” per se, just the type of clouds where they’re high enough that you can still see the peaks. And that’s all I’ll ask for up here. We pulled into the Heather Meadows parking lot (the same lot we camped in before Yellow Aster Butte) around noon, after stopping to ask for directions since we had no cell service and realized we had no idea to park. We drove past Picture Lake, and when Shuksan came into view I made us pull over to take a picture. Unlike last time I was here, we could actually see the top of Shuksan! So technically, this was my first time up close and personal with the mountain that I’ll be climbing in August.

We hopped out of the car and started organizing our stuff. Snowshoes, gaiters, waterproof pants, gloves, Lee’s new GoPro. We ran into a couple dragging their kid around on a sled, and a few snowboarders that quickly disappeared. We strapped on our snowshoes and headed south towards the ridge, starting out on the path to the left of the bathroom.

Avalanche debris wiped out some trail markers

At first the trail follows the road, which is clear in the summer but buried in snow by this time of year. It was very well groomed, which made snowshoeing easy. The road splits after 10 minutes or so, and we went in completely the wrong direction at first – until we hit a bunch of avalanche debris and turned around. I wasn’t sure we’d even make it to Artist Point until we got back to the fork in the road, and realized we should have gone right, not left. Left led to some slopes marked with a skull and crossbones on the map – avalanche territory! Right leads to the border of the ski area. Once you cross the border, you’re in the backcountry, and responsible for yourselves.

Looking at Shuksan over some avy debris in the backcountry

Once off the groomed road, we stayed on some old tracks that also followed the trip reports we had pulled up from wta.org. Yay, consistency! Usually everyone and their mom does this snowshoe on a bright day, but being a Tuesday, we only saw 5 or 6 others total. Which is what I like. Solitude.

At first it was relatively flat, but there were a few sections that skirted avalanche slopes. Slopes that had already avalanched once or twice, but the path at the bottom was wide enough that most of the flows hadn’t reached across. We knew the avalanche forecast was low risk, so we continued on, but kept our distance when possible and went quickly when we were worried. Later on, we met a group of three who said they had personally triggered several of the avalanches we had seen. That’s how avalanches work – out here on the lower slopes, it’s rare to have a random one. The majority are human-triggered.

The summer bathroom!

Eventually the path caught up with the road again, and followed it as it switched back up the ridge. This was another area where we’d keep as close to the edge (ironically) as possible in case the slope next to us decided to shed some snow. For all of our efforts, we did not see a single avalanche in action. Once the road is done switchbacking, you trek across a field to where there is a bathroom! Or at least, in the summer there’s a bathroom. This time of year, we could only see the peak of the roof, and this has been a low snow year.

Me and Lee in front of Shuksan

We had the other group of snowshoers snag a quick photo of us with Shuksan in the background. “SHE SAID IT! Did you hear it that’s how you say it!” The three of them didn’t know how to say “Shuksan.” Lee was equally new – “Wait, where’s Baker?” Oh, it’s just the other huge mountain that’s not Shuksan. Easy to miss! (…not) We decided to head farther along the ridge to a higher knoll to see if we could get a good glimpse of the sky behind Mt. Baker. Poor Baker gets no love from me. Even if it’s taller than Shuksan (10,781ft vs 9,131ft) I just think Shuksan is such a gorgeous mountain. But this time, we could glimpse that the sky behind Baker was lit up yellow even through the clouds, and we had to take a look.

Sun peeking through behind Baker

We got up to the third knoll quickly considering that even in snowshoes we were sinking 18 inches deep in snow. Thank god for gaiters. And there, with Shuksan to one side and Baker to the other, we had tea and snacks. Oat bars, chocolate, honey, passionfruit tea… I wasn’t even hungry but eating felt like the right thing to do. I was in heaven. Especially considering that just an hour and a half prior, I had been worried we wouldn’t even make it to the ridge and get to see Baker.

Snowshoe yoga

Post-snacks we did some snowshoe yoga, and started to head back down. We had to beat sunset. But I swear, someday I’m going to go back there and camp on that knoll looking at Baker and Shuksan, and I’ll get an awesome picture of my tent glowing beneath the Milky Way, which is spectacular from that area.

Heading back down, avy slope on the left, safety on the right…almost

Okay, when you aren’t looking at Baker and Shuksan, you still have a beautiful view of lower snow-capped peaks.

The non-Shuksan-Baker views as the sun set behind us. Still good!

Really, every direction is phenomenal. As sad as I was to leave, I was thrilled that we had managed to get there. I had been waiting to do this snowshoe for ages – it’s short, easy, and unbelievably scenic. I’m used to my favorite hikes being very remote and difficult, but this is definitely up there. As long as you find a day without crowds, it’ll be incredible. I don’t think I’d have enjoyed it nearly as much if I had been there on a crowded weekend, but this timing was perfect. You can see the ski resort for the first two miles of the hike as well, so you’re very close to civilization. But once you come over the ridge and it disappears from view, it’s easy to pretend you’re in the middle of the wilderness. The other aspect of this snowshoe that was great is that it was a perfect opportunity for us to navigate easy avalanche terrain. The slopes along the path are obvious, you’re close to other people, and it’s easy to avoid the dangerous zones while still feeling like you’re being edgy. Perfect for learners to run around trying to pick out which slopes would be risky and which wouldn’t and debating why.

Lee laying in defeat after her backwards slow-mo fall

Oh, did I mention Lee fell on her ass? Backwards down a snow drift. Her excuse is that walking backwards in snowshoes is hard. Okay, it’s true, but that doesn’t make it more graceful. At least she had a scenic backdrop.

The pic just before Lee fell

I was originally aiming to get a photo of her in front of Shuksan (I don’t know, do you think I have enough pictures of Shuksan? Maybe just a few more) before she tripped. I guess I’ll include the photo, why not.

Anyway, next time you see me talking about this snowshoe, it better be because I snow-camped there. And you’ll get another 20 pictures of Shuksan. Wait until I’m actually ON Shuksan. Oh god. Get ready.

One more – trekking towards Shuksan on one of the road’s switchbacks

Paradise Inn: Glacier Vista

Posted on January 8, 2015 by evejakubowski

A sunny day at Rainier National Park! I had been there two weeks ago, but we were completely socked in by clouds. You’d never have even known the mountain was right there if you weren’t familiar with the area. Tough to estimate distance/elevation accurately since we took a roundabout route along the Skyline Ridge path to begin with, but I’ll put the specific Glacier Vista stats anyway. Hiked 12/30/2014.

Mt. Rainier from Glacier Vista

Distance: 3 miles (we did more like 5 or 6)
Elevation: 700ft gain, 6300 highest point
Weather: 20’s and sunny (though 11 degrees when we got started!)
Commute from Seattle: 2:30, plus tire chains and a park entrance fee
Did I trip: No! Ha!

Getting started!

Originally we wanted to get to Paradise Inn for sunrise, but then we realized (oops) the park doesn’t even open until 9am. So we left Seattle before 7am and got into the park at 9:07. Somehow, other cars beat us. They checked for chains, we paid, and we were on our way. We didn’t need the chains until about 6 miles in, but given the past few weeks, chains have become second nature. It’s almost hilarious that I asked the tire place “Can I return these if I never use them?” because they’re a staple of Rainier National Park in winter, not to mention getting un-stuck on icy gravel mountain roads. I completely understand why the parks and national forests around here require them November through April.

Jean and Jonathan looking over a valley by Skyline Ridge

Anyway, once chains were on, we continued up to Paradise. Rainier was already gorgeous, and the day was perfectly clear. I thought I would recognize the trails from when I was there this past summer, but everything looked very different covered in snow. And the snowshoeing routes don’t necessarily follow the summer trails. Anyway, we put on snowshoes quickly because it was so damn cold. Jean had brought three pairs of sunglasses, which is good because Jonathan and I had brought zero. Jonathan had some issues getting his snowshoes adjusted, and I started jogging up and down the trail in mine because I already couldn’t feel my toes. I was wearing wool liners and wool socks, but I’ve been using my hiking boots to snowshoe: no insulation! It wasn’t a problem until that morning. Turned out, it was 11 degrees when we got started. As long as I kept moving, the wool did its job.

Snowy/hailing day for comparison

There were a few prints in the snow, but you could roam wherever you wanted. I put up a photo of Jean and Lee on the day we snowshoed through snow and hail for comparison – they’re trekking just north of the picture where Jean and Jonathan are looking out over the valley by Skyline Ridge. You can barely even tell there’s a valley beyond the hill to the right in the foggy picture. Both times, we had a set of fresh prints to follow as well as our map – nothing came of it on the cloudy day, but on this sunny morning, we soon came upon a group of parents and kids sledding! One dad must have seen our faces light up, because he asked if we wanted a turn with the sled. Turns out, you’re never too old to love sledding. We each took a run, and it was almost as good as glissading down Rainier this past summer only to wipe out at my guide’s feet back in August.

Sheer joy

Anyway, definitely bringing sleds next time. Jean got some for Christmas, we have to put them to use. Then they offered us candy. Sledding and candy? Okay. A few other kids were digging a snow cave in a snowbank, which was totally cool. The things you can do when the snow is 6 feet deep are endless. It’s like a huge playground for adults (and kids) with okay, just a little bit of avalanche danger. There’s a suggestion of a trail, but it’s up to you how much you follow it.

Made it up the short slope between the turn off from Skyline to Panorama and were greeted with a wide open snow field

We continued on across a small bridge, and hiked up to a lower ridge to see how Skyline looked. And it looked steep, and far away. So we turned out sights left. Towards Panorama Point. Which I will achieve someday.

There were tons of people switchbacking up to Panorama Point, but we were worried about avalanches and stayed away from the slope.

Avalanche debris

A skiier had triggered one earlier, and you could see the debris. We snowshoed along some smaller knolls, which we soon found out was Glacier Vista. We met a few hikers from Portalnd, Oregon who were familiar with avalanche terrain. I asked how high the avalanche risk was on the slope everyone was climbing to get to Panorama Point – he laughed, and said “on a day like today?! Nothing’s going to happen on that slope” as I stood there thinking god dammit. Next time, when I know more about avalanche evaluation.

View south from Glacier Vista, Adams and Hood in the distance

But the views from Glacier Vista were still pretty incredible – Mt Hood, Adams, St Helens. Not to mention the rolling hills of snow or the sun lighting everything in view or the glaciers on Rainier itself. Looking at Rainier, I’m amazed I ever climbed it.

Jonathan dwarfed by Rainier

We sat at the final knoll of Glacier Vista and had tea, some awesome trail mix Jean had made (with rice krispies and chocolate covered peanuts! who knew rice krispies were so good in trail mix) and maple-bacon chocolate. Jonathan took some time lapses with his camera, and I’m pumped to see how those turned out. I spent my break dropped rice krispie trail mix everywhere like a clumsy child. After a solid 30 or 40 minutes, we decided to pack up and head back. We had to be out of the Paradise area by 4:30 since the gates at Longmire closed at 5 for the night, and we didn’t want to be stuck. What I didn’t mention was that my toes had been MIA for maybe 15 minutes, and I needed to get moving to warm them up again. I had foot warmers just in case, but that would involve taking off my boots, which didn’t sound ideal when I knew moving would help and the car was not even 30 minutes away. The rest of my gear was spot on. Now that I’m stocked up on puffy layers and a good outer shell (beta AR folks out there?!), winter hiking has been pretty straightforward.

Soon to be alpenglow, the sun is setting

As we snowshoed back down the Glacier Vista trail (much shorter than the way we had taken to get there) the sun started making everything look yellow. Alpenglow was coming! We got back to the parking lot and snapped a few last minute pictures. Or at least I did. As the driver, I could not take photos from the car. Meanwhile, Jonathan was hanging out the back window as I drove as slowly as possible without pissing off the jeep behind us so he and Jean could get some pictures of the mountain, which was lit up all pinkish orange. I’ve only seen alpenglow a few times in my life, and this was incredible. Check out Jean’s pictures of it – sadly, I have none.

Rainier in the beginning of sunset

Being the Pacific Northwest, where nice polite drivers live, no one honked at us. Unfortunately, we did drive past a Jeep that got stuck in a very deep ditch, so even if you’ve got high clearance and four wheel drive, be careful! Don’t take those turns too tightly. As for me, I patted my trust Honda Accord, took the chains off a few miles later, and continued being awesome.

A full day in the snow! Finally feeling like winter, unlike in the city, where everyone freaks if it’s below 40. “Optional winter” out here is nice. And winter in the mountains is far more attractive than winter in gray, concrete Chicago. Sorry, my Chicagoland friends! Some sadistic part of me misses the subzero temps, but… I’ll stick with single digit nights in the mountains.

Mountain selfie

McClellan Butte

Posted on January 1, 2015 by evejakubowski

After a long break for the holidays, we’re back! This hike is from two weeks ago (I know I know, I’m behind) and I’m finally getting around to it. 12/17/2014, to be exact. Emilie and I had been aiming to go on a hike for some time, and since the forecast was lousy, we were going to repeat Talapus and Ollalie Lakes. Half an hour down i90, we realized the clouds weren’t bad, it didn’t look like rain, so the hell with it – we’d do McClellan Butte.

Distance: 9 miles round trip
Elevation: 3700ft gain (5170 highest point)
Weather: 30’s and cloudy
Commute from Seattle: 45 minutes (no traffic)
Did I Trip: It could have been intentional because I was aiming to sit anyway

Scramble to the top of McClellan Butte (with a taunting hint of blue sky)

Green, dry trail. Could be a summer hike

So like I said, we were on our way down i90 and made a game-time decision to hike McClellan since despite the clouds, every peak was in view. Emilie warned me that she had been sore after the last time she did it, but being the stubborn elitist bum I am, I didn’t think much of it at the time. I knew the parking lot was close to the highway, so it’d be easy to get to, and the ground was clear and dry. Unfortunately, we missed the parking lot (the turn off to the right looked narrow, so I didn’t believe it) and drove an unnecessary 4 miles(!) out and back on a potholed gravel road before finally finding it. We packed our bags, grabbed our trekking poles for old lady knees, and off we were.

Fresh snow!

We were both in trail runners, so for once I didn’t look like a lone idiot. My ankle was still swollen and wouldn’t cooperate with my hiking boots, so goretex Wildhorses it was. I tossed microspikes in my bag just in case. The first mile of the trail was dry, simple dirt. A gradual elevation gain. You cross a few old gravel roads as you switchback up the side of the mountain, which connect to Annette Lake and the Ashael Curtis trail. It was about a mile in that the switchbacks started to get steep. We were crunched on time already, so I knew we had to maintain a good pace. We hit snow starting around maybe 3000ft, and it got deeper as we went. Not deep enough for snowshoes, fortunately, but enough to make it ten times more beautiful than usual.

Avalanche debris across the trail

There were no fresh footprints ahead of us, but the trail is obvious. There were a few avalanche chutes to get past (one with avalanche debris!) but nothing threatening that day. This was actually the first time in my life that I’ve seen avalanche debris up close. We saw plenty when climbing Rainier, but on a much larger scale, which made it harder to process. Over the past few weeks, I’ve seen several like this mini one, and I’m sure there will be more to come throughout the winter.

Snack break

We stopped for a snack break. Oat bars, candy, some tea. Emilie had been making fun of one of our friends who once forgot to bring water on a hike, and I realized…. I forgot to bring water. Shit. I had like 3/4 a liter of tea and that was it. So I started melting fresh snow into each cup of tea to try and make it last longer. Win win, it cooled the tea down too. Also, gaiters and waterproof pants have secondary uses – seats. I stacked them all up so I wouldn’t just be sitting on snow. I know, I’m pretty resourceful.

Views were starting to open up

I checked my watch. Okay, we had about an hour to make it to the top. How far in were we? We guessed 2.5 miles, so we’d have to be fast. But I hadn’t put in this much effort to turn around, especially now that views were starting to open up. We put the snacks away and continued, coming up with back up plans in case we didn’t have enough time. Drop Emilie on the side of the highway. No, that’s mean. Maybe the Issaquah Park n’ Ride. Borrow a shirt so I could go straight to work. Hike faster. Run the last few miles once we were back on dry ground. Okay, so we had some options.

Trail starting to flatten out

By the way, the middle two miles of this hike are up, up, up. The majority of the elevation gain is within those two miles, the two on either end are relatively flat. So we were rushing, and mourning how out of shape we were. Or at least I was. The trail finally started to flatten out, and we knew we only had about a mile left until the top.

Remember how I had mentioned there were no fresh footprints in front of us? Well suddenly there were. Just after I took the picture to the right, footprints appeared. What? There aren’t ghosts on McClellan Butte. Ghosts float anyway, so that’s a moot point. Where the hell did they come from? We got excited at the prospect of mystery company. Looked like two sets of prints, so there was some bad-ass duo out there who took a rogue path up the side of McClellan. They were only going forward, so we knew they were ahead of us, and we’d have to run into them eventually. Assuming they followed the same path back.

Stairway to heaven?

Soon, we could see the peak in view. The frost on the trees was neat, so I made Emilie stop while I tried to snap a pic.

Frost “growing” on the tiny branches

Not sure how to use my point-and-shoot for close up photos, I ended up using the “food” setting. Other options were “portrait,” “low light portrait,” “fireworks,” “toys,” and “landscape.” Thanks, SONY.

Once we turned the corner a few feet from the peak, we saw the two ghost climbers. They had taken an improvised route up the mountain, one that was shorter than our trek but much steeper. Ice axes in hand, they waved to us, and we walked over to say hi and see if we could scramble up to the top, the real summit.

Emilie and I in front of the icy scramble

Unfortunately, the scramble was completely iced over with several firm inches of ice. Even with full crampons, I’d have been concerned. The photo to the left is taken at an angle that (I swear) makes it look less steep than it actually is. Anyway, I’ll be going back in the summer someday for a trail run/hike and I’ll get to the real top.

View looking west-ish from just below the scramble

Chatting with the two hardcore hikers, we got some history about McClellan. There were old metal pegs sticking out of the rock as well as some thick cables. Turns out there used to be a light at the very top (it’s the highest peak in the North Bend area, I believe) to guide airplanes. There were also lights on Mt. Catherine and Bandera(?) for the same reason. I love getting bits of history about the mountains. And it’s even better coming from another person.

View looking south-ish from just below the scramble

The two hikers headed back down the way they came, and we spent a few more minutes snacking until I check my phone. Shit! I was on track to be late to work. We threw on microspikes to help with traction on the way down, and started hauling ass. We agreed to jog the last mile or so if necessary, and Emilie would have someone meet us at the Park n’ Ride so I wouldn’t have to drive all the way to her house. By some miracle, we made it down in under two hours, without jogging! I had been resigned to my fate, but now there was hope. With no traffic, I made it to work with enough time to both eat AND shower. Which was great, because if I had to choose, I don’t know which I’d have chosen. Either way, I probably wouldn’t be very popular at work that night.

This hike ended up far surpassing my expectations. My attitude going in was “oh, it’s in North Bend, how hard can it be” and the answer is it’s a butt kicker. I was sore the next day. But on top of that, the views were great, the snow was great, we lucked out with the weather, and hiking with friends is always a plus. Especially on trails with mindless switchbacks. When it’s warm out again (or maybe sooner, if I’m impatient) I’ll go up there and loop around from McClellan to Annette Lake and the Ashael Curtis trail. Eventually, I’m going to have to explore all the connections instead of following one trail.

One more from the top

Lake Twentytwo

Posted on December 20, 2014 by evejakubowski

Lake Twentytwo is another mega popular hike for everyone in the entire state of Washington. The last time I was there, we got kicked out of the parking lot because it was full and cars that had parked alongside the road were being ticketed and towed. So I figured okay, on a rainy Friday in mid December, I should be able to find a spot. Or have the whole parking lot to myself.

Distance: 5.4 miles, round trip
Elevation: 1350ft gain, 2400 highest point
Weather: 30’s and rainy
Commute from Seattle: just over an hour
Did I Trip: Nope

Well I ended up having to share the parking lot with four other cars. I can deal with that. There had been a big wind storm the night before, and we weren’t sure what to expect on the trail. Driving to the trailhead we had passed trucks cleaning up the downed trees (we had to drive under a few) across the highway, so we figured there would be some damage on the trail. The parking lot is just a few feet off the highway, so we knew gravel roads weren’t a concern. It was raining when we started, but just a light drizzle. My Arc’teryx rain jacket (beta AR) had arrived, and I was excited to test it out.

Crawling beneath the first of many downed trees

The wind storm had been a big deal. Sounds like California had it the worst, but we had gusts measured up to 77mph in urban areas, nevermind out in the mountains. Six stories of scaffolding blew over in Ballard! As for trails, there were definitely some blow downs. Trees that fell over and splintered into millions of pieces. The air smelled like freshly cut wood when you got close to one, and sometimes it just looked like the trail disappeared until my brain registered that it was covered by tree debris. You could climb over/under all of them, but the trail is going to need some serious work. I know the Seattle Mountain Running Group told all their runners to get the saws out Friday morning and meet up to give back to the community since we spend so much time on the trails. I pictured a bunch of trail runners jogging along trails with chain saws to take care of stuff like this. I’m sure that’s what happened.

Double waterfall

In addition to the downed trees, there were tons of waterfalls along the trail! I hadn’t expected them, so it was a pleasant surprise. Honestly I had pretty low expectations for this hike. Which is what I always do with short, popular hikes. The best views are typically on the longer, more remote hikes, so I never get hopes up for the “mainstream” treks. Setting those low expectations means I’ll never be disappointed, and my logic with these hikes is that it’s just good to get out and get some fresh air. There weren’t many places to take decent pictures of the waterfalls since they were all off-trail, but it was neat climbing down to look at them and hearing them the whole time. There was one point where you cross one on a bridge, and Jonathan took a long-exposure picture which will hopefully come out well. Things I wish my camera could do.

Old growth in the fog

The forest in the area is an old growth forest. This hike is very close to Heather Lake, the first hike I did in Washington with my roommate and our mothers. It was a rainy day, and the forest looked amazing in the clouds .So I expected similar foliage, but Heather Lake seemed older and greener. That could be a side effect of seasons, since I was at Heather Lake back in August. Either way, both are fantastic cloudy day hikes, since fog and rain just enhance the experience when you’re surrounded by enormous trees and carpets of moss.

Trees growing out of the slope

Eventually you come out of the forest and spend some time switchbacking up a more exposed slope. It had a few trees here and there growing crookedly out of the rock. I imagine there would be views on a clearer day, but we didn’t get much. But despite it being winter, and the trees having no leaves, the moss on the trees was still brilliantly green. Hang on, let me zoom in on that branch on the right of the photo:

Ferns growing with moss on a tree branch

Those are ferns. There were ferns growing out of the moss that was growing on the tree branch. You can’t tell, but the ferns were almost a foot long. Where I come from, everything is gray and dead by December. There aren’t plants growing from other plants and being so green. Everything out here is so damn healthy.

Lake Twentytwo framed by trees

Finally we reached the lake! We had some tea (seriously, hot tea in a thermos is a game-changer for any winter hike) and snacks under a tree, and then went to see if we could hike around the lake and take some good pictures. Jonathan brought his go pro so we toyed with that for a bit, tying it to a selfie-stick to get a few pictures. The clouds were pretty low when we got there so we couldn’t see the peaks, but like I said, sometimes that just adds to the scenery.

There’s a boardwalk that wraps around the entire lake. Mt Pilchuk rises opposite where the trail meets the lake for the first time, and there were tons of thin waterfalls cascading down the rocks. I wonder if anyone goes rock climbing up there. We followed the boardwalk to the opposite side of the lake, under the sheer rock face. I’d love to see this covered in snow. According to wta.org, it does get snowy enough sometimes to risk avalanches, especially along that back side beneath Pilchuk.

Me looking towards the trail over the lake

We hung out at the top while Jonathan took a time lapse of the clouds with his ‘real’ camera. Thank god I had bought mittens and brought tea, or I’d have been freezing. I ran a bit for a few photos which helped keep warm too. Oh, and how have I not mentioned the arc’teryx jacket yet? It was phenomenal. I was so dry. So dry and so happy. It definitely keeps you a bit warmer too. It pretty much creates an entire micro-climate around your body since (as much as they say it’s breathable) it holds almost everything in. It’s most breathable on a dry cold day, and while it was a bit chilly during our hike, it was probably a bit too wet for much moisture to escape efficiently.

After maybe a little over an hour at the lake, we turned around to head back down. Lake Twentytwo was much prettier than I thought, and I can see why it’s so popular. The wta takes great care of the trail, too. Nearly the entire thing was constructed by hand to make drainage efficient and avoid washouts and make it as level as possible. Definitely a good hike for the casual hiker, or families with younger kids. I bet it’s gorgeous in the summer.

Trail wrapping around the side of the lake

Trail wrapping around the side of Lake Twentytwo

Franklin Falls

Posted on December 15, 2014 by evejakubowski

After sitting in the apartment from Wednesday until the following Monday, I was going a little bit stir crazy. My left ankle was still swollen like an egg, my right foot was still achey, but to hell with it, I’m going hiking. So I picked an easy hike. More of a walk than a hike. With almost no elevation or anything to worry about, and only two miles long. Hiked 12/8/2014, here is Franklin Falls, folks!

Distance: 2 miles round trip
Elevation: 400ft gain (didn’t even notice)
Weather: 40’s and rainy
Commute from Seattle: 1 hour
Did I Trip: I wiped out in the parking lot.
Trail to the falls

I had just picked up my car from the mechanic. With my newly recovered freedom, I had to get out to the mountains. Franklin Falls was a hike to a waterfall (never would have guessed) and I expected a quick easy hour long hike. Getting out there was straightforward, but I forgot one thing: snow takes longer to melt in shade. And being in the bottom of a valley beneath i-90 means lots of shade. So the road that I expected to be clear was covered in ice. I parked a short walk from the trail head (my car didn’t have great traction) and walked the rest of the way. Once I was at the parking lot, I promptly wiped out. Was it worth putting on microspikes for the two mile hike? Ugh, I guess so.

River toward the beginning

There were no other cars when I got started, so I didn’t expect company. The river was surprisingly pretty, and I was glad to get fresh air. Despite the semi-limp I still had. I wore my trusty goretex wildhorses again since I couldn’t get my ankle into my hiking boots. Microspikes are not very comfortable on low-profile running shoes, as it turns out. And the trail was probably 60% straight ice, 40% completely clear, so I looked pretty awkward on some stretches.

Anyway, at the start of the trail, there are a bunch of log cabins. I still don’t know what they’re for. I know the Denny Campground is right nearby, so I’m guessing they’re part of that. The nice part. They were very cute if you ignore the fact that the entire trail and campground is directly beneath i90.

Small waterfall along the hike

There are several places where you can get down right next to the water, and I figured since the hike was so short, I might as well check out all of them. There are a few mini-waterfalls, and the river is consistently a great shade of light green.

Franklin Falls

After around 30 minutes (I took it easy) I reached the falls. It honestly went by more quickly than I expected, but I guess I’m used to doing longer hikes. Just going a mile felt so short. The trail down to the fall was covered in ice. Like ice that was several inches thick. I had microspikes so I wasn’t concerned, but I imagine it’d have been slippery without them. What you can’t tell from the photo of the waterfall is that it is literally right beneath i-90. You can see the bridge above the falls when you reach the end. But like I said, I just needed to get out of the city.

On the way back out, I ran into a few hikers all taking dogs for walks. A few were in hiking boots, others were in casual shoes. I looked hilariously over-prepared for a two mile hike along i-90. Someone even called me out on my microspikes. Whatever, sir, at least I could get down to the waterfall. You have fun walking down that ice.

Pool of water at the bottom of some slickrock

The hike out passed by quickly too. Refreshing, but not too much of a commitment. A long drive for just 2 miles, but I’d say it was worth it. By the time I got back to the parking lot the ice was more slush than ice, and a jetta had successfully made it to the trailhead. I walked back to my car, which was a trendsetter. Lots of cars parked behind it, so either people assumed I knew what I was doing or they had troubles on the ice too. I will have everyone know that just a few days later, my car went farther than a pick up truck (both with chains) going along icy mountain roads, which unfortunately will not get its own blog post because we had to bail on the hike and camp on the side of the road since no one wanted to hike the icy road. As for me, I’m ignoring winter for as long as possible.

Mt. Dickerman

Posted on December 11, 2014 by evejakubowski

Honestly, Dickerman has been on my list for months, and I had expected to save Dickerman for next summer. Usually the road to the trailhead is closed starting in mid November. But we’ve had such a dry season so far, and I had seen a few recent trip reports saying the road and trail were both fine if you didn’t mind tromping through snow at the top. So here’s Mt. Dickerman, the last sunny day in a streak of good weather! Hiked 12/3/2014.

View from the top: Glacier Peak and Sloan

Distance: 8.2 miles round trip
Elevation: 3950ft gain, 5760ft highest point
Weather: high 30’s/low 40’s and sunny
Commute from Seattle: Just under two hours
Did I Trip: I slid a bit and landed on my ass but no faceplants

So like I mentioned, it was the last day of truly sunny weather predicted for the next week or so, and I couldn’t pass that up. The trailhead is right off the road, so I knew if the road was clear I’d have no worried about ice. So I packed my hiking bag with some bars, caffeinated gu, aspirin (I was still quite sore) and headed out. I had a feeling this would be a tough hike. Marathon Sunday, struggle hike Monday, 9 hours on my feet at work Tuesday, and then this. So I prepared for it. But I didn’t realize just how tired I was.

Fallen trees criss-crossing over the trail

Averaging almost 1000ft/mile, it was already a steep hike. Getting there wasn’t an issue at all, and I knew I was tired, but figured I could take it slow and I’d be fine. The first two or so miles are just through woods. Steep switchbacks through woods. Really just a mind-numbing number of switchbacks. So I spaced out and plugged along, taking occasional water breaks (I was using my REI pack instead of my camelback – the trail running hydration pack has been retired for the season now that I need to carry more). I was disappointed to see that that there was no light dusting of snow like at Snow Lake. The trial to Dickerman is on the southern side of the mountain, and the light snow had melted. A couple icy stretches along the path, but nothing too tricky.

Trail finally flattens out

After a solid hour and a half of switchbacks, I finally broke into a flat area, maybe the meadow that the trip description talks about. I have no idea, because it was covered in 18 inches of snow. Woo! That’s the great thing about Seattle. Winter is optional. If you want it, you can go find it in the mountains.

Boot path next to icy stream

There was a well packed boot path next to a frozen river, and on the way up, I took the boot path. Microspikes were in my pack, and I could not be bothered to get them out. At this point, I was still only getting sneak-peeks of views across rt 2, and nothing more. But I knew I was getting closer with every step.

Looking up at the peak

At one point, I looked ahead of the trail to an opening where you could see Dickerman’s peak. Shit, I shouldn’t have looked. I was still at least a mile away. Past the meadow, the slope opened up. Still relatively flat, but soon you came to the base of the steepest section. I’m sure in the summer there’s a trail to follow, but in shoulder season, it was “pick your favorite set of tracks and follow those.” I wasn’t about to blaze my own, since the top foot-and-a-half of snow was pretty loose and annoying to trudge through.

Dog across the flats looking down a steep slope we just hiked

As I was stepping up someone’s well-packed tracks, which were basically stairs, a dog caught up to me and bounded ahead. Her owner called her once I had reached the top of the first steep slope, and she ran back to wait for him. I couldn’t resist taking a picture across the flat meadow. She looked like she was built for snow, and was thrilled to be out there. She was having a much easier time of this than I was. I was starting to realize that I was tired. Who would have guessed? My legs were not up to a one-foot-gain-for-every-two-feet-traveled climb.

Baker on the left, Shuksan on the right

Finally made it to the top. With some encouragement from the dog who stood ahead of me mocking my slow progress. I sat on the lower of two peaks since there was a couple on the high one, and drank in the views. At first, I was so tired I couldn’t appreciate any of it. I knew it was beautiful, but I just wasn’t into it. I looked at the first peak in front of me and thought “Oh, Glacier, I thought it’d be closer…” before I turned to the right and saw the real Glacier Peak, smack in front of me. I had been looking at Mt Baker.

Three Fingers on the left, others I can’t recall

So Baker, Shuksan, Glacier, Sloan, Forgotten, Three Fingers.. guys, I’m getting better at the peaks! Slowly but surely. I threw on my extra layers, took a bunch of pictures, had some snacks. Like Espresso gu. I’m not used to stopping at the top for long, especially when I’m alone. But I must have spent 20 minutes up there. After a while I headed over to the higher peak to have someone snap a picture of me before I headed back down.

View to the south with ski tracks on the left

The way down was brutal. I put on microspikes to help with traction, since at this point I was tired and getting clumsy. There were some ski tracks along the slopes, and some spots were it looked like someone had glissaded, but putting on goretex pants just to slide 20ft didn’t seem worth it.

I stopped to chat with some happy hikers on the way up, though at this point i was already mid afternoon and light would be fading fast. I have to wonder if they made it or not. It’s a great hike, but honestly, I don’t think it’s a halfway-hike. If you can’t make it to the views, just going up switchbacks in the woods wouldn’t be worth it to me. But I’m a view finder.

Crooked 10-second-timer selfie looking south

I did manage to get what could have been a great 10-second-timer selfie if the horizon hadn’t been so damn crooked. Walking down this stretch was just so gorgeous I had to try to capture it. Wispy clouds, sunshine, mountains in the background.. I thought I hated winter. But winter in a place like this? I look at these pictures and I just think guys, I freaking live here. I can just DO this! I can just drive for 90 minutes and be somewhere this incredible. At the top, I met a girl from Minnesota (I mentioned I went to school in the midwest), and someone asked the two of us if we’d every move back to the midwest – we looked at each other, back at Glacier Peak, laughed, and said “how could you move away from something like this?!”

Trail along a ridge through some trees

Once I broke back into the trees, I remembered the lovely number of switchbacks I’d have on the way down. Crap. I should have counted. Ugh. There were some pretty stretches before the forest got dense, and I did snap a picture of some neat ice crystals. Taken with the “food” setting on my camera, because it was the only one that would focus on close objects. Once I hit the forest, I kept my eye out for the two criss-crossing trees I had passed earlier, knowing they marked about 20 minutes from the parking lot. IT TOOK FOREVER. My feet hurt, my hamstrings were tight, my left ankle bone kept slamming against the side of my boot (which had never happened before – maybe I was walking weirdly because of the marathon soreness) and I was wiped. The marathon had caught up to me. Used to having boundless energy, I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. More gu. Okay, carry on.

Southeast view from a knoll maybe half a mile from the top

The sun slipped behind the mountain to the south around 3:30, and it suddenly felt like twilight. Funny to think that the hikers 2000ft above me were still in the sun. I finally got to the criss-crossing trees, and then caught a glimpse of rt 2. Yay! So close! I basically ran the last 400 meters or so and collapsed in my car. Thank you, car. I took off my hiking boots and gaiters and put on my goretex Wildhorses to spare my left foot and right ankle any more pain. Thank god I left those in my trunk. Jeez. It hurt to use the clutch, but whatever, gotta get home. Oh, and the “check engine” light had come on. I was a mess. The drive home was uneventful, and I spent the next few days hobbling around on a bum ankle and a bum foot. Time to invest in different boots.

It’s funny, because uploading the photos, I was floored by how amazing everything was. Which, like I said, I knew when I was up there. It was just hard to appreciate at the time when my brain was foggy with soreness and exhaustion. It was like coming down from Rainier, knowing I was on a massive mountain in one of the most beautiful places, yet too preoccupied with wanting to rest to truly appreciate where I was. I had some moments of clarity on Dickerman, but I’d love to go back fresh. I’m sure I’ll be back in summer. I bet the slopes and meadow get some great wildflowers. Overall, incredible hike if you can tolerate the beginning switchbacks. Bring a chatty friend!

Snow Lake

Posted on December 7, 2014 by evejakubowski

A casual, 24-hour-post-marathon hike. This was the first hike I did in Washington ever (back in August) and it was shocking back then. The fact that within an hour of Seattle, I could be on a hike to a beautiful alpine lake was incredible. And look at me now – I’ve been on hikes far more remote and beautiful and strenuous. But the day after a marathon, I figured I should stay close and keep it simple. Jean came along with me, and was beyond patient when I stumbled and whined and couldn’t bend over to pick up my hiking poles when I dropped them. Hiked 12/1/2014.

Distance: 7.2 miles round trip
Elevation: 1800ft gain (4400 highest point)
Weather: 30’s and sunny
Commute from Seattle: 50 minutes
Did I Trip: No, and thank god, because I don’t know if I’d have gotten up if I did

We got to the Alpental parking lot a little late. It took me a while to get up, hobble around my apartment making tea and whatnot, and realize that I’d definitely regret sitting around the house all day on one of the few crisp sunny days Seattle gets this time of the year. So I texted Jean. Hey, you know what, I’m down to go for a hike. Let’s check out Snow Lake. I had rented snowshoes hoping to test them out for the first time in my life, so she tossed hers in the car and we headed out.

For starters, my hiking boots were heaven for my feet. I think it was the utter lack of flexility after running the race in a low profile shoe (Saucony Kinvaras, what up) but my feet have never been so happy. It was short lived, though. Unsuprisingly. Can’t have happy feet during a hike the day after a race. That’s too much to ask. But I could drive, and we made it to the parking lot despite trip reports warning of a slick, frozen road. Yes, there were two inches of ice on the road, but they had tossed sand all over it and there were tracks all over it, and we had no issues.

We got out of the car, and checked out the trail. Not too much snow, but we thought we’d throw on the snowshoes and just go for it. After all, the most recent trip report had said no snowshoes necessary for the first half mile, but that they were great after that. So we did. Jean had to help me get mine on (yeah I know I’m like a five year old) because I wasn’t flexible enough to stay bent over for more than a few seconds without every muscle in my legs screaming in agony. Freakin marathon tightness.

We got on our way, and I was surprised to learn that snowshoes aren’t exactly connected to the heel of your shoe. They just flop around a bit. Weird. And I felt a bit like I was waddling to prevent them from clacking against each other. But I got used to them quickly. Until we ran into a hiker on his way down (already! it was like 11am) who told us we definitely wouldn’t need them for the whole trail. Cool. I’m just not meant to snowshoe, I guess, considering this was the second failed attempt. So we took them off and stashed them behind a fallen tree. And half buried them in snow so no one would find them. And put on microspikes and continued on our way.

There were plenty of ice patches, plenty of rocky patches, and plenty of deeper snow patches. I’d say microspikes were the right choice. And gaiters! Oh god, was I happy with my gaiters. It’s great being able to blast through snow without getting any in your boots. A freedom I didn’t know I had. There were a few areas where you could see icicles hanging off of rocks. No part where they’d fall directly on the trail, though.

This trail does turn into a very avalanche-prone trek in the winter months, and I could absolutely see why. That’s why I figured I should go back when there’s just a little bit of snow, pre-avy danger but post summer crowds. Seriously, last time I was there, everyone and their mother and kids was there. It was amazing having it mostly to ourselves. I also can’t put into words how much I love fresh snow. When it just dusts the tops of the trees. There’s nothing better. This was probably the first time I had seen that since Silver Peak a month ago, and I was glad to get it again.

The great thing about Snow Lake is that views just keep getting better. I don’t think I realized it in the summer, maybe because of the crowds or maybe it was just “an average valley” without the snow. But on Monday, I kept turning around to take pictures as we gradually climbed. The snow muffled the sound of i90, and it was easy to forget that we were right off a highway. Perpendicular to it, at least, unlike Granite Mountain where you parallel it for the first three miles of your hike.

We had prepared for a mid-teens hike, but it ended up being around freezing (maybe mid 30’s towards the end) for most of the hike. Not warm enough for a ton of melt, but enough that I didn’t need half of the 800 layers I had brought. Definitely didn’t need the two pairs of pants I was wearing. Being in the sun made a huge difference – we did take a break in the shade for a bit, and I threw on some extra layers.

Turning around just before we reached the ridge line, we saw the entire valley laid out in front of us. Damn, that dusting of snow. It was beautiful. The Alpental parking lot and resort are down in the valley if you look closely.

After crossing the ridge, there was a small side path to a rock overlooking Snow Lake. That was the shady spot we decided to take a break, and have some snacks. I had eaten cheez-its throughout the marathon the day before, and brought the rest on the hike. By some miracle, Jean had cheez its too, though she brought the white cheddar ones. So we had some good variety. We snacked, took some pics (gray jays were harassing us, but they’re so round and cute) and eventually decided to head down to the lake. I stood up, and nearly fell over. My feet were not happy campers. The first few steps were agony, but once moving, everything loosened up.

Five minutes later, Jean realized she was missing her iPhone. Which was white. You know what else is white? Snow. Good. We turned around to retrace our steps, hoping it fell out at the rock we say on and not in the fresh puffy snow where it would probably just disappear into the fluff and never be found. And that’s where it ended up being. I didn’t go up to the rock. Getting down with my pathetic legs was enough of a struggle the first time (I almost went face-first), I wasn’t doing it again. But I heard a celebratory hoot from Jean, and assumed she had success. Woo!

We finally made it down to the lake. Okay, it was probably like another half mile, but for me it felt like it took forever. We found another rock that stuck out over the lake – I think in August, people were jumping off it into the water. We sat down to have cheez-it snack, part II. Took an obligatory REI pack pic, too.

The middle of the lake was frozen over, but it was too fresh to have accumulated snow. The neat part about that is that you could see all of the cracks crossing the ice where it had split while melting and re-freezing. We spent a while just looking out over the lake enjoying the sun. I will admit I think I singlehandedly ate at least half a box of cheez its while Jean munched on a cliff bar.

Eventually, I knew I had to fight the sore legs and get up, because technically we were only halfway there. You still have to hike all the way back down. It’s like mountain climbing. Don’t get complacent when you reach the summit. Going up is optional, going down is mandatory. Suck it up Eve, you have to walk out of here, Jean’s not gonna give you a piggyback and you can’t crawl. Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but you get the point. It was slow going. We did run into a girl wearing casual boots. As in one in heels, no waterproofing, open ankles, no traction, yeah. She made it to the lake which was impressive. If that had been me, I’d have called a helicopter to get me out a mile into the hike. “Nothing like Snow Lake to bring out the casually unprepared,” as one commenter on my trip report wrote.

There were a few creek crossings that got a little icy. The first was only a mile or so into the trail, where we ran into some dads with their young kids who decided to turn around since the kids were already tired and crossing 15 feet of ice didn’t seem ideal with a bunch of 2-5 year olds. The other memorable one was the one to the right, where you had to hop across some rocks since the ice wasn’t thick enough to stand on. Stop it, I know what you’re thinking. “Oh that looks easy.” Okay, you run 26 miles and then try jumping from one leg 3 feet to the other leg and landing steadily. This was my Everest. I pawed around like a cat does before attempting a jump it knows it probably won’t make. But I made it. And with that, I knew it would be smooth (ish) sailing to the bottom.

The end of the hike went by surprisingly quickly, or maybe I blocked it from memory. Or maybe it was overshadowed by the last obstacle we had to conquer. Oh yeah, we had stashed snowshoes! Wouldn’t it be funny if they were gone? Ha, ha, right. We got to the stash site and Jean looks up at me after I joked and says “…they aren’t here.” No way, maybe they’re just more buried than before. We poked around the snow, dug a little, nope. Nothing. Nada. They were gone. Seriously?! The world is just telling me that I should give up trying to snowshoe. We got back to the car hoping someone just brought them down to the trailhead, but no luck. We asked other hikers if they had seen anyone with snowshoes, nope. We filed a police report and posted all over the wta trail reports, but nothing turned up. I called REI that night, embarrassed and ashamed that I had made such a stupid decision and asked how much I’d have to pay. $140, which was half of what I expected, but not ideal.

Now since I’m writing this blog post six days later, you get a conclusion: we found the snowshoes! Someone picked them up thinking he was doing us a favor, assuming we had lost them, or forgotten them. Ugh. No. Sir, stashing is a way of life. But at least they’re back, and I dodged a $140 bullet. You’d think my lesson would be “don’t stash things!” but it’s more like “stash them better” or “leave a note.”

Anyway, back to Snow Lake. Great hike, even more amazing in snow if you can find a time during the shoulder season to do it! There is a snowshoe route you can take in heavier snow that’s a little longer, but there’s still significant avalanche danger until you’re at the ridge, so make sure you’re familiar with the terrain and avy danger evaluation. There’s also Avalanche Mountain nearby and Chair Peak which are both great in winter (again, with experience). Nothing like a crisp, sunny day in the Cascades in winter!

Annette Lake 2

Posted on December 4, 2014 by evejakubowski

Annette Lake? Sound familiar? That’s right, it’s my first repeat hike. Oh god, have I run out of hikes that quickly? Nah, but snow/rain conditions and some friends called for a close lake hike, and Annette was the winner. And I’m glad I went back, because I think it was prettier this time around. Hiked 11/26/2014.

Distance: 7.5 miles round trip
Elevation: 1400ft gain
40’s and rainy/cloudy
Commute from Seattle: 50 minutes
Did I Trip: No, but Jonathan fell in a river so we didn’t all escape unscathed

This was the fateful trail run where I took a flying wipe out off the trail and banged up my knees, leaving me out of commission for a while back in October. Why does reminiscing on that make me miss trail running? Fortunately, this time I didn’t have to hobble-jog the last two miles bleeding from the leg. Instead, it was a much more casual stroll through the woods, with plenty of pictures and snack breaks.

We had gotten a ton of rain lately, so the rivers were absolutely overflowing. Parts of the trail had turned to creeks, and some river crossings were trickier than others. We all had waterproof boots for the most part, and Jean had a hiking umbrella that protected her from rain. Which I found hilarious. It was useful though, it doubled as a walking stick when she needed it crossing some creeks. Okay, that’s still hilarious.

The biggest river was the first one we crossed, which had the bridge. Last time I was here, it was maybe half the size it is now. It was pretty awesome standing over it watching the water come crashing down. We could hear it as soon as we got out of the car, but since you pass it so early in the hike, the sound fades away as you get closed to Annette Lake.

Overall, the Annette Lake trail is pretty straightforward. There’s a “road” crossing (old gravel road), but that’s just about the only intersection on the trail. Elevation gain is slow and steady, which is why I chose it for running in early October. Tougher to run now with snow everywhere, but it was fantastic when the trail was clear. There are a few open talus slopes that will definitely be dangerous when the snow builds up, but since we’ve had such a dry season so far, no worries here. When we arrived, we had been worried there would be snow (the last trip report on wta.org had said snow covered the entire trail) but the rain had melted most of it. Some of us threw microspikes on towards the top where it was snowier, but they weren’t necessary.

Shoulder season is the season to see Annette Lake frozen over! There was a thin sheet of ice covering the top, which made the lake look way more turquoise than it had been last time I was there. I also didn’t spend nearly enough time exploring last time I was here – I snapped a few pics of the lake and turned around immediately. When you reach the lake, if you head to the left, there’s a wide open section for campsites with great places to have snacks and take pictures. We ran into another set of hikers with their adorable dog. We should have gotten her in some of the pictures. She looked thrilled to be on a hike. We asked if she ever hiked in dog booties, and they said she had refused to walk and then ripped them off immediately when they tried.

It’s funny looking at the more recent trip reports (11/29) and seeing that Annette Lake was covered in a foot of snow just three days after we were there. I am of the opinion that everything looks best with a dusting of snow on the trees, so I’m sure I’ll do this again as a snowshoe. Speaking of which, that was the original intent. I had rented snowshoes and everything. If only I had waited three days.

We lucked out with the weather on this one. The forecast was for something like 70% rain, and we ended up only getting some drizzle in the beginning of the hike, and clouds for the rest. Sun is too much to ask for in late November out here, so we settled for overcast. I’m glad the weather didn’t scare anyone off – I was worried I’d have another solo hike after no one wanted to get wet. I underestimated my companions. A little rain never hurt anyone, and it’s a lake hike, so it’s not like we’d be missing out on views.

Everyone brought food! Except for me. Well I had some GU, but that’s usually all I pack along with my 2L of water in my hydration pack. And naturally no one wanted GU, even if they were salted caramel and rootbeer(!) flavored. I guess it’s a lingering habit from trail running season. Snacks on hikes were a new thing to me that I’m slowly getting used to. But I will admit that bread and hummus taste way better on a hike than sitting on my couch.

I have to upgrade my hiking pack as well. I’ve been using my trail running Nathan hydration pack as a daypack, but all that fits in it is water, some gu/powerbars, and maybe microspikes in the back pocket, or a hat/gloves. Small things like that. I can strap an outer layer to the bungees on the back, but I think it’s time for a real day hiking pack. I’ll test the REI canvas pack on the next few and see how that is, but I think I’ll need something more legitimate. Something that can carry more emergency items in case I ever get stuck in snow. Jon had a great one that I might have to research – fully waterproof. Damn. He’s over there to the right doing photographer things. And did I mentioned Jean and Jared were perfectly matching? Precious.

And then there’s me, running around in my neon rainbow of a running/hiking outfit. Actually I tested my waterproof pants on this hike (Novara, so technically cycling but I got them for $10 at the REI garage sale), and those are just navy blue. They have a huge reflective stripe down each side, but no one will notice that on a day hike. And now that I’m wearing hiking boots and not my beloved Peregrines, I’m a little more toned down. I didn’t get to put them through any rigorous testing since it ended up being dry and I didn’t want to sit in a river.

Overall, great cloudy day hike. Jean and Jared have a few more pictures if you want to check those out. I still have yet to see Annette Lake in the sun, but it’s so accessible from Seattle and appropriate for everyone that I’m sure I’ll be back. I’ve heard it’s a good snowshoe, too, so as long as you’re aware of avalanche conditions and appropriately careful, you can check this one out in the dead of winter.

Granite Mountain

Posted on December 1, 2014 by evejakubowski

Another well-known hike just off i90, Granite Mountain had been on the list for a while. It gains almost 1000ft per mile in elevation (meaning great views) and the trailhead is literally less than a mile from the highway, making it easily accessible with great views and a lookout at the top. Unless you hike it on a crappy day, which is exactly what we did. 11/20/2014, 30% chance of rain, close enough to sunny (ha!) that we decided to go for it.

Distance: 8.6 miles round trip
Elevation: 3800ft gain, highest point is 5630
Weather: 40’s and rainy
Commute from Seattle: 45 minutes
Did I Trip: No

Before I get started, Jean also has a great blog called jandjnorthbound (started when she hiked the PCT) if you want her side of things. Hopefully she isn’t making fun of me over there for the six layers I wore on this hike or the fact that all I brought for snacks were almonds and some GU.

Starting out, the trail was covered with the lightest dusting of snow. Just enough to stick, but not really enough to say it snowed. The beginning of Granite Mountain is the same trail as the Pratt Lake trail, which I found boring but runnable last time I was there. This time I had company, so no running. But I had conversation to distract me from the first hour or so, which is just through forest. Did I mention it was raining? It was pretty gross out, but the rain let up after about an hour, which is about all I can ask for in the Pacific Northwest. We decided the hike might end up being “Type II fun.” Not always fun while you’re doing it, but you look back and think yeah, that was pretty good, I’m glad that happened!

Once you break out of the forest, you’re hiking along a slope, and I imagine have some pretty good views on a clear day. The trail can be rocky in places with big steps to get over, but poles were helpful and we weren’t in any sort of rush. The trail eventually flattens out a bit as it swings towards the lookout. I have to wonder if you can see the lookout from the lower trail when it’s not completely socked in by clouds. There were so many points when we thought we had to be close, but ended up hiking another half hour. Anyway, as the trail flattened out, the snow began!

We’re guessing that while it was raining on us down below, it must have been snowing at the top, because it was all perfectly fresh. Just a couple inches, no footprints or anything, so we got to break the trail. It was tricky to find, but there were small giveaways every few minutes like steps and bridges. Somehow we managed to stay on it. Visibility wasn’t much more than 100 feet – no views in any direction, and since we hadn’t hiked Granite Mountain before, we had no idea how far up the lookout would be.

We finally decided to take a break and have snacks since we weren’t sure how far away we were from the top. So we put our things down and whipped out the bars and almonds and gazed into the white void. I turned to Jean and mentioned it’d be ironic if we were, you know, two minutes from the lookout and just had no idea because we couldn’t see anything. After some food we felt refreshed, and carried on. Two minutes later, we were at the lookout! Hooray!

Except it was locked. I shook the door until Jean saw the padlock on it. God. Dammit. All I wanted was a place to sit and snack! And the last lookout I had been to (Hidden Lake) was stocked with games, books, a bed, all sorts of lovely things. Yet here we were, locked out. With ~~amazing~~ no views (left). So… we had more snacks, and then headed back down.

Going down was a little easier because our own footprints were there. We never put on microspikes or any traction devices. When we got out of the clouds and were back on the snow-free slope, we noticed that a lake of fog had rolled in across i90, and just the peaks of some small mountains were peeking out above it.

I don’t want to quite call it “Type II fun” because it wasn’t that bad, but we know we’ll have to go back someday when the sky is clear and we’ll have more impressive things to look at. But I think that being in the snow is always a good time.One thing I’ve noticed is that I’ve always loved fresh, pristine white snow – in cities, like Chicago and Boston, that snow turns brown so quickly. Out here, you’re in the mountains. That snow stays white for quite a while! Even on cloudy days, that crisp white snow is awesome. I meant to make a small snowman, but I forgot. Next time. Hopefully he’ll have some nice views too.

When we started, I was thinking that this might be one of the last “<20% change of precipitation” days before winter officially hit. I’ve been told that if chances of rain are low, you should just go. So we did! Fresh air and a workout, can’t complain about that. And hey, most of the hike ended up being dry after a rainy start, which is pretty good. Wonder when they’ll open the lookout again.

Hidden Lake Lookout

Posted on November 26, 2014 by evejakubowski

This was the best hike I’ve had in ages. What I intended to be a five-hour excursion turned into a full day adventure. Not to say the other hikes haven’t been great, it’s just that this was so beyond incredible. I’ll start you out with a mediocre picture. 11/18/2014.

Distance: 8 miles round trip (10 if you scramble to the true summit)
Elevation: 3300ft gain/6900 highest point (at lookout) 3600/7200 at summit
Weather: 30’s and mostly cloudy, but high altitude clouds
Commute from Seattle: 2:30 if there’s no traffic
Did I Trip: Slipped, tripped, postholed, you name it

Starting out, I wasn’t sure I was making the right decision. Forecast was supposed to be okay, but the Snoqualmie guru the day before had predicted clouds, and it looked like he was going to be right. But I headed out anyway. The first obstacle: road to the trailhead. Good god. I should have taken a picture just to show what my heroic Accord handled. “Handled” is generous – I bottomed out only once, on an exceptionally steep narrow rutted rocky washboard uphill section where I was worried if I stopped, the hill start might prove risky. Yes, that’s just about every negative word used to describe gravel road besides potholes. Is it possible to be too rocky and steep for potholes? That was the road to this trailhead. Second obstacle: gas gauge suddenly flipped from half a tank to around 1/8th of a tank. Okay, mid-mountain-road-drive wasn’t the time to worry about it. Get to the top and worry later.

The sign for the trailhead was a welcome relief. The parking lot had two other cars, both high clearance all wheel drive. Damn it, this hike better be great after the four miles of abuse my suspension just took. Especially if I’m going to run out of gas halfway down a terrible mountain road on the way back. AAA won’t be too happy about that. I loaded up my trail running pack and headed off.

Trail is unsuspecting at first. Flat and almost gravelly, it turns into forest quickly, where you have to cross some pretty icy bridges. No microspikes just yet. After about a mile you pop out into a creek drainage valley, and after crossing a creek, you start to switchback up through meadows. Or what would be meadows, if everything wasn’t dead like it is in late November. As you get higher, Baker comes into view. Great! So at least I saw Baker. But nothing breathtaking, still not sure I made the right choice coming up there.

And soon I started to rescind that thought. Ice forced me to throw on microspikes, and I caught up to a trail of yaktrax prints. Great, others were up there somewhere! After what felt like an hour of switchbacks, I finally got to a more level area, where there was a few inches of fresh snow covering everything. Beautiful. Except for where I noticed a pee arrow (I met the proud artist later) pointing off to the side of the trail. Cool, I’ll just ignore that. The trail cuts along an open slope, and eventually El Dorado comes into view, followed by Shuksan, which I was psyched to see. Though I will admit, it’s prettier from the other direction.

The trail continued through some snow fields, alongside some boulders. It was a neat glimpse of how deep the snow already was, despite it being a relatively dry season so far.

Eventually, I crested the ridge, and the lookout loomed over me, several hundred feet up what looked like a rocky scramble. How the hell was I supposed to get up there? Jesus! Zoom in on that picture to the right, you can just barely see it on the higher peak. I followed the yaktrax, they had been pretty dependable and everything was clear so I wasn’t worried. I hiked up to a saddle between the real summit and the lookout, and ran into a hiker named David. He was headed to the lookout as well, but claimed it was a scramble. Eager for adventure (and stupidity as usual), I put aside my poles and followed him.

There’s something about sitting on a rock jutting out above an incredible view that just makes it a more raw experience than standing on a trail. Halfway up, David seemed pretty wiped so we took a break and looked out over the lake (picture to the left). There were a few points where I looked at the boulders above my head and doubted my climbing abilities, but those years of pull ups paid off. Motivation to start lifting again, seriously. We finally flopped over the summit to where David’s buddy Michael (the urine artist) was waiting with two others he had just met: Jeff and Brian, the owners of the yaktrax I had been following.

I dropped my poles, gloves, and bag while they snacked and ran to check out the lookout. Luxury, by lookout measures. Books, games, a stove, extra food, even a freaking full size bed. I’ll be up there watching sunrise someday. Preferably in a bivvy by the rocks or a hammock set up on the rafters, but I’ll be there.

I went back over to the other four, and Jeff and Brian had decided to go scramble to the real summit across the ridge. The panorama above this post looks straight at the real summit. That’s the ridge we followed to get there. They asked if I wanted to go, and at this point, I couldn’t come up with a good reason to say no besides being imposing, and so I figured I’d tag along. I expected it to take us maybe half an hour ish, and then I’d be on my way down.

Half an hour.. right. We followed Michael’s tracks (he had already been over there) but that didn’t save us from plenty of post-holing. Every time I turned around, Jeff was thigh deep in snow. Which may have been due to my mediocre trailbreaking skills, sorry Jeff! But after trudging through the snow and scrambling over boulders, we were at the true peak. Amazingly, we were looking down on the lookout (pic to the right) in the distance, framed by three fingers and another mountain, which I can’t believe I forgot. Here’s a close up of the lookout:

Did I mention how awesome the clouds were? They were high enough that we could still see everything, even as far as Rainier, and they lit up beautifully in the sunset. We spent a few minutes taking pictures at the top (Brian, if you’ve made it this far, you have a great eye for pics – thanks for taking a few of me!) and then decided it was time to head back. Jeff was wearing mesh running shoes, and I was already cold enough in my goretex hiking boots (which were full of snow) thank god I hadn’t worn my trail running shoes. The two of them did have gaiters, which I was sorely missing. As a side comment, wool socks are great. That snow melted and left me sloshing around, but at least it got warm and stayed warm as it melted.

On the way down, which went quickly, we got some glimpses of the sun. There’s a pic of the sun reflecting off snow on a nearby peak. I saw alpine glow (the way the sunset hits the snow and turns everything golden) for the first time in my life, and somehow did not take a picture. Even on Rainier we went to bed before sun set, so I missed it then.

By the time we got back to the forest, Jeff and Brian’s yaktrax were completely trashed. Broken springs sticking up in every direction. Microspikes were totally fine – I guess I’ll admit they’re worth the $60. But taking off the microspikes meant we were almost back, and the sun was behind the mountains. We finished up the hike with headlamps (which I did not have), and I got into my car and realized I wasn’t done just yet: I had to survive the road again, and then find gas. I was the first one to leave the parking lot, but the other two cars caught up to me before the end of the gravel road. I thought I was making good time, too. I stopped at the first gas station I saw, and was rewarded with a “tenth-of-a-gallon-per-minute speed” pump. Five gallons later, I gave up, knowing it was enough to get home (the gas gauge jumped back up to 3/4 of a tank), and headed back to Seattle. Back to the city, back to work the next morning (okay, work isn’t that bad), back to rain and sidewalks and being woken up by the bus stop beneath my bedroom window.

10/10 day. I could relive it all over again. Scrambling to the peak was the perfect unexpected side trip that made it more than my average solo hike, not to mention I had company for more than half the time I was out there, which makes the hike back down that much more enjoyable. Especially when I turned around to see Jeff, Brian, and David all sliding on their asses down some ice on the trail. Hey, whatever works.

Have Tent, Will Travel

Trail running, mountaineering, and the occasional wipeout

Author Archives: evejakubowski

Artist Point Snowshoe

Paradise Inn: Glacier Vista

McClellan Butte

Lake Twentytwo

Franklin Falls

Mt. Dickerman

Snow Lake

Annette Lake 2

Granite Mountain

Hidden Lake Lookout