Russet Lake and Overlord Mountain (BC)

Posted on August 2, 2024 by evejakubowski

In stark contrast to flowers, this is where we started our journey

Yep, you heard me. I finally left the country. I had done Watersprite Lake as a ski trip years ago (never wrote about it) and entered North Cascades National Park from BC years ago too, but this was my first summer endeavor, and let’s just say I can’t believe it took me 10 years being out here in the PNW to go venture across the border in the summer.

Let me set the scene. Sarah and I were wild-fired out of our original plan. We were driving back from a sunset hike the weekend prior, it was like 2 in the morning, every trip she proposes is something I’ve already done, I’m looking for novelty, and suddenly she says “well what about BC?” I’ve done practically nothing in BC. BC might as well stand for [I] Barely Care [because there’s so much to do in Washington] [and also the idea of an entire country of peaks is overwhelming so I avoid it because it causes anxiety]. She pulled up their national park website to see what camping permits existed. “Well, there’s…. one permit for Friday, and that’s the only permit in any park in BC until…. September.” “What’s it for?” “Russet Lake? Do you know it?” “Nope. Take it.” And then and there, she grabbed us the last remaining permit for campsites in BC all summer, and I guess we had plans. i5 was a dark desolate corridor save for two women cheering in a bright yellow SUV.

One of the few variations in the approach trail

I looked up Russet Lake on caltopo, and saw the dotted trail to Overlord Mountain. If a trail is on Caltopo that usually means it’s decently popular and well traveled. Trip reports for both Russet Lake and Overlord were underwhelming. Russet lake looked like it was just in a barren rocky basin, there was a hut right next to it which bothers me even though I know it’s amazing, and Overlord looked like a choss pile of a walk up, and there were no wildflowers to be seen. And the hike started at a ski resort. Whistler. Yuck. Spoiler: I was oh, so, so, so wrong.

Distance: 21mi including Overlord (something like that)
Elevation gain: 8500ft including overlord. 5500 for Russet lake if you do it backwards. Like 3500 if you do it as recommended.
Weather: 60’s and sunny
Commute from seattle: 5.5hrs? Oof.
Did I Trip: NO SIR

We rolled up to Whistler after one of the most casual starts I’ve ever had to any trip ever. Sarah was extremely patient with me during my hellacious work week when my socialization window was like 8:54-9:02pm, but I was 100% committed to taking Friday off and made it happen. Whistler was PACKED. Thumping music, mountain bikes everywhere, full face helmets on everyone, turns out it was CrankFest. We parked in a day lot and I paid for what I thought was 24hrs. I was jealous of anyone and everyone and felt like a dork with a backpack in the middle of the cool kids. We got in line for the gondola thinking we’d save ourselves mileage and elevation. $104??? For one trip up the gondola?! We laughed and started walking, looking for the Singing Pass trail. Yes, up through the mtb festival. It was signed, but I still felt SO out of place. Finally we were in the trees and not walking on an exposed road, though the “trail” was definitely still mostly a road. But that was nice because we could walk and talk easily. The trail gradually narrowed into a trail. We found a surprise outhouse maybe 3 miles in. We were perplexed by the zipline, thinking it was bikers, no, drones, no, zipline?! We walked below the peak-to-peak gondola. We admired the shades of green in the forest, and how perfectly graded the trail was, and how badly I wanted to be above treelike, and how boring this would be on the way out. At one point I realized why parking had been so cheap. It was free from 5pm to 8am. AKA I only paid for an hour, and would have to re-up in the morning, because it was a day lot, not an overnight lot. Well, shit. Worst case we pay the ticket I guess.

Finally we hit wildflowers. And then more wildflowers. Heaven. Two hikers came down from the upper route (called Musical Bumps) that the gondola takes you to. “Are there more wildflowers that way?” we asked. “Eh, more like this” they shrugged. Well… they sound underwhelmed, but we’re stoked, so I guess we’re hiking out that way tomorrow. We carried on into subalpine, wildflowers and heather and massive glaciated peaks in the distance. Does everybody who has hiked this trail just suck at taking photos? Are you trying to keep it a secret? They must be trying to keep it a secret.

A short 2mi from the intersection with Musical Bumps and we stumbled upon one of the most dense paintbrush meadows I have ever seen in my life just before the lake. I mean the prior weekend was dense but I barely had time to frolic, this was just insane with bright yellow paintbrush that had yellow streaks and flowers of every color sprinkled in between. We dropped down to the lake knowing it was almost dark, and struggled to find a decent campsite. There’s a great one near the toilet but we missed it (and didn’t want to listen to people pooping all night). There’s a rack to hang bear bags, but we just buried our food in rocks in the boulder patch instead. Sarah asked “did you think we’d get here in daylight?” I laughed. “NOPE.” “Me neither. Funny we were both thinking that but neither of us said it out loud.” I was so happy with our timing. I had a scone for dinner and fell asleep pretty quickly, though I wouldn’t say I slept well.

We were up around 7 the next morning, which is LATE for me (and even later for Sarah). Sarah had a leisurely breakfast and set up painting, I decided to “zip” up Overlord Mountain. Which I sorely underestimated. Prior trip reports said to expect 6-7hrs round trip from Russet Lake, but my famous last words were “it’s like 3.5k gain and 3mi, how long could it possibly take?” as I pranced off into the distance leaving Sarah to her art. I wasted time trying to traverse high rather than drop down to mellower terrain on the traverse from camp to Whirlwind’s ridge. I paid for the full day of parking with the shockingly strong cell service I had. When I saw the ridge to Whirlwind across a small valley I had an “oh shit, that’s where I’m going?” moment, but it comes up quickly and it’s not as steep as it looks. There’s also a trail nearly the entire way starting at the base of this ridge, which expedited things after my cross-country bumbling for the prior mile. There was a little tarn that I bet is beautiful when it’s melted out, and crystal clear streams gushing through the rocks off of the base of the glacier.

On top of the first ridge, peaks started growing in the distance as I gained elevation. I nearly broke out into the Canadian national anthem I was so astounded by the beauty. I was making slow but steady progress, less than 2mi to Overlord but I knew the last mile would be the trickiest terrain. Whirlwind was really just a long slog, I snapped a few pics at the top before dropping down to the first of two saddles between Whirlwind and Overlord. I was waiting for the 3rd class scramble sections. After the first saddle, I hiked up and over another knoll, knowing that Refuse peak (something like that) was between me and Overlord. Refuse pinnacle? I can’t be bothered to look it up. Either way, it was almost entirely class 2, I maybe had to use a hand to balance once. But the ridge is fun, with huge views in every direction. After Refuse Pinnacle, it’s a walk on this really cool shale that sounds like walking on glass, like tinkling music (tinkling sounds like pee but you know the sound I mean), and then a long slog of a talus field with some snow patches to the top. O Canada kept morphing into the US national anthem in my head, and honestly I can’t think of worse songs to have stuck in your head. There is a climber’s trail the entire way from Whirlwind to Overlord. It’s sparse in parts but if you are used to boot paths you’ll find it.

Looking up at Overlord (left) from Refuse Pinnacle

The summit was broad and welcoming, I had some quick snacks and chatted with two other climber who were ahead of me before quickly turning around to head back down knowing Sarah was waiting for me. I had taken just over 2hrs to the summit, and was hoping to be back in 3.5hrs total. The way down went quickly at first, until I was just past Refuse Pinnacle and saw all of the other parties on the way up. I stopped to chat with each one (uphill has right of way so… yeah) and reassure some folks who were worried about the scrambley part. Finally past the people, I realized how much of a delay that had been and texted Sarah that I wasn’t going to be back until 12:40 despite an ETA of 12. I desperately hoped I was underpromising/could overdeliver and be back way before that.

Looking down on the Overlord glacier from the top

If you zoom in there is a blue dot, that’s another party headed up (Overlord summit behind the knoll)

Halfway up the saddle I turned around and saw the other parties. One woman waved to me and whooped which made me so goofy happy. I was DRAGGING. Coming over the knoll and realizing there was another 300ft of gain to the top of Whirlwind was crushing. But once on top of Whirlwind it was soft enough I could start jogging, and I knocked out the remaining 2mi in around 30min, getting back to camp at 12:15ish right as Sarah texted something politely conveying “I’m bored, hurry up, I’m ready to leave.” I packed up my stuff as quickly as possible and we were off to the paintbrush meadow. 6-7hrs round trip from camp my ass. Good to know I can still knock that out. I question my fitness constantly these days (which most people who know me are probably rolling their eyes at).

I cannot in good faith recommend going up Cowboy Ridge above Russet Lake where the meadow is because it is impossible to do without stepping on wildflowers. They are EVERYWHERE. There is no trail up there but the flowers are absolutely astounding, and I hear the lakes on the other end of the ridge are great for swimming, and the end of the ridge has a good view of the Overlord glacier. We did not have enough time to hike the full right, which is okay with me given the impact it’d have had on flowers 😦 Guilt quickly kicked in for me and we zipped back to the trail after just a few photos.

SARAH’S PAINTING omfg I freaked out when I Saw it. Will link to her site once it’s up. She did that at camp!!

We retraced yesterday’s steps to the junction between Musical Bumps and the Singing Pass trail, and started up Musical Bumps. Let me be clear: we were doing this whole trip backwards. You’re supposed to take the gondola up to the top, then hike DOWN musical bumps to the lake, then hike DOWN the trail from Singing Pass back to Whistler. But we were banking on nobody checking for gondola passes because we’re cheap. And we were also banking on the gondola being open until 5.

The wildflowers continued to be absolutely phenomenal going though Musical Bumps. We are NOT fast hikers when flowers are involved. We probably looked like two off kilter toddlers chasing butterflies. I started collecting beta from passing hikers because we didn’t entirely know the way to the gondola, and my phone was dying, which meant no navigation soon. My legs were also DYING after knocking out Overlord and now this. Flat was fine, downhill was fine, uphill was tough. Getting the gondola was going to be tough at our speed. I made a joke to a passing hiker. “Yeah we’re trying to catch the last gondola out of here, gotta go!!” They lit up. “The gondola’s running until 8! There’s dinner at the restaurant so they’re keeping it open late!” Sarah and I burst out laughing. YEs!!!!! How was this working out so well in our favor? Spirits newly lifted knowing we could take our time, we plodded on through all of the gondola-carried tourists hiking with tiny day packs, envying their light loads (maybe that was just me).

It truly just kept going. Insane numbers of meadows.

Even within ski resort boundaries the terrain is gorgeous. I wasn’t as annoyed by the lifts as I expected. That last mile to the gondola though was one of the slowest of my life. It just. Kept. Going. Every time I thought we had to have gone a half mile we hadn’t. I was soooo happy to finally get to the lodge. We popped into the bathroom, sought out concessions (specifically Diet Coke, which we did not succeed in finding), and got in line for the gondola. 5min later, we were in a gondola, high fiving because nobody had checked for a pass.

Nearly back at the car, I said out loud “this HAS to result in a ticket right? I mean everything else has gone so perfectly… there’s definitely going to be a ticket on the windshield.” NO TICKET. We dropped our packs, chugged some diet cokes from the village, and headed back to Squamish to get ready for a day of dragging.

I cannot recommend Russet Lake enough, or Overlord behind it. Two extremely beautiful objectives, well maintained trails, incredibly accommodating campsites (the hut I think is $50 per night?). I am truly shocked I had never looked into any of this. I got exactly the novelty and adventure that I had been missing, with great company, and a trip that way surpassed expectations. Definitely hope to be spending more time in BC in the future.

Has anyone seen the movie Nope because that weird cloud is in like a dozen of my pictures from Overlord

Davis Peak (Salmon La Sac)

Posted on July 1, 2024 by evejakubowski

Holy cow what a surprise. Davis had been low on my to do list for years, looked like a good workout but nothing very aspirational. WOW was I wrong. Nobody told me this is a wildflower paradise! I stumbled into a fairytale! And almost entirely by chance.

Distance: 10mi
Elevation gain: a nice clean 4000 (6400ft highest point)
Weather: 60’s and everything
Commute from Seattle: 2hrs eastbound, 3hrs westbound as i90 gets more crowded
Did I Trip: no

I left Seattle very lazily around 7:30, maybe 8am. I stopped in Roslyn for bakery treats and a second earl grey tea. I wondered why I didn’t do more casual weekends staying in a small town and enjoying breakfast and doing day hikes in the area. My objective was Paddy Go Easy Pass, a more casual 6mi jaunt, an excuse to get out of the house. It was raining in Seattle, cloudy and raining all through the pass. Roslyn was sunny, but the mountains north looked socked in. I could see Davis fully, but every other ridge was socked in as I drove north on Salmon La Sac road.

I turned off the paved road onto the dirt road. Oh boy. I was still 30+min from the trailhead, and driving on the one road condition my car cannot handle (barring sheer ice). Washboard. Even in 4WD the tires spin, the car crabs, and I’m left steering into fishtails as if I were on sheer ice, except with shaking and rattling and a general feeling that the car is about to fall apart beneath my legs. Oh, and my fresh earl grey? Yeah that was immediately all over the center console. I nearly threw a fit. The Davis trailhead was the next trailhead I’d pass, and I pulled over and said eff it, I’m doing Davis. Not driving another 30min of this shit just to potentially be socked in anyway.

Ready to start a rampage with no plan (fortunately I did have a map, somehow) I stomped off towards the trailhead. You have to walk down a road more! You turn off the main road, head downhill, pull over in a small lot, then walk down the road further to a campsite where the trail starts. There is a sign so you won’t be completely lost. You cross the big river on a bridge, and then… heads up, you don’t see water again until you’re back at the bridge on your way down. Bring plenty.

Wildflowers haven’t regrown much here yet

The trail is like 1000 short uphill switchbacks forever. My grouchiness dissipated as I had to focus on trucking uphill. However, the scenery changes every mile or so, keeping you interested. Open forest (I took no pics of that), then burn zone but with tall bushes, then BOOM DISNEY PRINCESS WILDFLOWERS I was bewildered! I had NO idea this was even a wildflower objective. I giggled at one switchback realizing it meant I’d get to go right back through an enormous field of flowers. I was in disbelief. A friend pointed out years ago that part of an awesome hike/climb/anything is being surprised by the scenery, and how that makes a 7/10 trail a 11/10 because you didn’t see it coming. This definitely fell into that.

Forest and flowers eventually gave way to a more open recovering burn where not much regrowth has happened yet. A few baby lupines, not much else. But this section was followed by a rocky right with some short grasses and a smattering of more wildflowers!

After a few minutes on the ridge, the trail drops down into the forest to the right. If you start heading up a steep rocky “trail” trying to maintain views you’re probably off route. There are branches blocking this trail, but I thought they might genuinely just be blow downs given it’s early season. Nope, they were intentional. Fortunately I figured this out before wasting too much time, refound the trail, and headed into the forest trying not to be too disappointed I was about to lose views. And I hate to say it – if I had not heard voices below me, I have no idea how long it’d have taken me to realize I was definitely off trail. The WTA descriptions clearly mentions this, I just… didn’t read it thoroughly.

If you get this view, turn around because you missed a turn

The forest basin section goes quickly, and soon enough you’re switchbacking up another knoll, breaking out at a lookout site ALSO ridden with wildflowers! Two women asked if I wanted them to take my picture, I said no thanks and plowed ahead before realizing wait I should offer to take their pic (of course they said yes). I explained I was just so in the zone I was not thinking socially. They laughed. “We’ve all been there.”

More awesome meadows next to the lookout site

Trail to the true summit follows the left ramp

The last half mile to the true summit crawls along a ridge line with almost a scrambly feel. The actual summit probably has spectacular views on a clear day, but all the big peaks were shrouded in clouds. You finally get a view of some lakes. It is the Alpine Lakes Wilderness but 99.9% of this hike had NO LAKES. I had an amazing lemon jam pot, didn’t even know what that pastry was when I bought it but WOW is it delicious. Shout out to Red Bird Cafe.

Oh theeeere are the lakes. And where the views should be.

The way down was uneventful. The wildflowers blew my mind all over again. I watched rain squalls threaten to come over but only got drizzled on once. It was really like Davis was in a patch of dry and occasionally blue sky, and everything in every direction was getting rain. It couldn’t be perfect though, I sat in dead stopped traffic on i90 for like 35min. WA’s highways can’t handle weekend traffic, i90 and 2 are both shitshows. I swore after this that for the rest of the summer I’d only do hikes north via i5 or highway 20, no more i90/highway 2. We’ll see how long that lasts.

Wildflowers with Hawkins in the background, where I just was earlier this month!

Expectations vs Reality: Backcountry Skiing

Posted on February 18, 2024 by evejakubowski

Expectation: Pow on the Coleman Deming (expectation = met)
Reality: Two of your friends were left wallowing behind down below, and actually you bailed on climbing ice on Colfax

Reality: yeeting your skis across creeks

You see the drone videos following a skier through a tight couloir. Or maybe it’s a GoPro on one of those sticks that erases itself like how you can’t see your nose. Or maybe it’s a professional skier following them WHILE FILMING because they can. Maybe there’s dubstep or reggae or even classical music in the background. The youtube compilations to music that makes you want to escape and hurt your heart when you’re sitting on the couch on a dreary Tuesday living the best life of a mushroom because that’s what living in Seattle is like, being a mushroom. The images in ads, in outdoor magazines, on the walls of REI and Patagonia and Arc’Teryx stores, and of course, all of the Facebook and Instagram posts that your friends are making with perfect snow conditions and great views and no suffering and no bails ever and it’s never rainy on their trips for some reason. Maybe your coworkers know when you’re stressed because they catch you staring forlornly at your desktop background, a rotating selection of the best shots of your top trips of all time. Maybe they think they’re default backgrounds or lock screens and that’s why they haven’t said anything (that’s what I tell myself).

Well let’s levelset here. Backcountry skiing is like 90% type II fun, 8% variable conditions, and 2% the best skiing and adventure you could possibly find. In fact, let me break that down into a more detailed visual based on the type of snow you can expect.

Note % of time spend in actual pow. Hot n heavy = unskiied mashed potatoes and ice could be further broken down into above/below treeline.

Okay, moving on to gear. Don’t pitch me on a she-wee, there are still many layers of harness/clothing to get through and nonzero risk involved. And if you’re a coffee aficionado, I wish you luck. You all know the feeling when you are finally geared up head to toe and NOW is when your body decides it actually does need to pee.

Pros of bibs: no snow up your back if you wipe out
Cons of bibs: Bodily fluids stay in the bibs

Now that you have your gear situated and are (proactively) entirely depleted of bodily fluids, let’s get to the trip.

No, wait. By “having your gear situated” I mean… how confident are you, really? What if your binding breaks? Did you forget skins? Your boot could snap at the top of a couloir leaving you in walk mode for the whole ski down. You could drop a pole in a river. Snow could be sticking to your skins or even your skis if you’re lazy about waxing either and/or both (guilty). Multiply those risks by however many people you’re with.

Ok, I think we’re clear on the gear issues and the fact your downhill ratio will be higher (but not in a good way) if you suck at skiing like I did for years. So what are you going to be thinking about during this trip? What other skills do you need to hone?

On a great trip, you’ll spent about 85% of the time going uphill and 15% of the time going downhill. This is why I’d generally recommend learning to ski at a resort, because if you go straight to the backcountry like some of us, you’ll spent more like 50% of your time going downhill, and not in the enjoyable way you want. But assuming the 85/15 up/down (which honestly might be generous on the down) here’s where you’ll probably expend your mental energy.

I used to be hot headed and gung ho but now I spend more time in the 17% ready for beer

“Good thing it’s not bushwhack related because there’d be a #DIV/0 error” -Brad

Reality: friends are useless except for pics

F-bombs per capita per hour is fascinating because it covers both extreme ends of the success spectrum, the “ah fuck we’re fucking fucked” but also “this is the freshest fucking powder I have ever fucked with fuck yeah and even the satisfied “fuck yeah” with a fist bump at the end. There aren’t many in between, though, so the more calm you are, the fewer f bombs.

Then you have the excuses to take breaks and try to cope. A few ideas, if you need something to say that isn’t “I need to catch my breath” or “I need to scream into a jacket for a sec:”

“I need a snack/water”
“I need to take a few pictures”
“I need to check the map”
“Oh shit I forgot to put my phone in airplane mode”
“Wow look at that ice formation, that’s cool”
“Wow weird how the snow changes right here”
“Did you hear that” “Hear what” “No nothing”

Speaking of map checks, this is a terrible habit I have when I start to drag. Checking the map over and over aka watching my own progress 2 meters at a time because I can’t figure out how to put alpine quest into freedom units.

If I check 10 times a minute you know I’m dying

Did you see the tumblr a decade ago called “reasons my son is crying”? It’s a stream of photos of some guy’s toddler crying about ridiculous things (ex. “I told him he couldn’t eat the dog treats.”) I thought I should include a list of reasons you might find yourself crying on an adventure.

1. You postholed hip deep/fell into a tree well for the 3758295th time
2. You are still. so. far. away.
3. Your bougie gifted chocolate-bar-on-a-stick is actually a block of hot chocolate powder encased in chocolate and not the delicious consolidated chocolate snack that you expected
4. You forgot a key piece of gear (crampons? skins? ski strap? water?)
5. The pass is snow and ice and driving sucks and you’re 15mi but somehow still 2hrs away from Taco Time

These are suspiciously similar to the list of reasons to laugh:

1. Your friend postholed hip deep/fell into a tree well for the 3758295th time
2. You’re so far away that it’s actually hilarious you ever thought this was possible
3. Your friend is in tears over their unexpected hot chocolate powder (not the pow we were hoping for, right?)
4. Your friend was a dumbass and didn’t bring skins or water
5. I’m sorry but Taco Time desperation is never funny. Get out.

If you have good friends, they’re going to do their best to interfere too. Sneaking rocks in your pack. Poking you while you try to do the rip-skin-without-removing-ski trick to knock you over. Telling you yeah you should totally ski that way only to watch you crash land off a surprise jump. Slowly undoing the straps on your pack. Seeing how long until you notice there’s a bonus branch hanging from your pack. Reminding you of your freshly ripped pants as you ski past the children sledding at Paradise and a mother gasps at your boldness.

What if we don’t even get to snow (spoiler: we didn’t)

And then there are the things folks don’t glorify on social media: The pine needles that cascade from your body when you finally get home and clog the shower. Starting at 1am. Sleeping in a Winco parking lot on the way back, or spooning their car tire next to the highway. The rainy days where you get soaked to the bone. The days where something spooks everyone (rockfall, avalanches, lizard brain protesting, ghost stories, fearless goats, aggressive mice). The days where someone (never me, no, never) fucked up navigation and you get off route and ran out of time, bonus points if other groups follow your tracks. Being told you totally have alpine cider at the tent so you stay mentally strong, only for your friend to confess at the tent that there is, in fact, no apple cider to be made. Sunburns. Disgusting clothing. Nosebleeds. Injuries. Mystery bruises. Blisters. Heat rashes. Dehydration. Resisting dropping that obnoxious guy in a crevasse and leaving him behind. Climbing hangovers!! I bet everyone who does this has been hungover because of dehydration on a Monday. Don’t ask me hard questions on Mondays, folks.

No green runs in the backcountry… even if it’s a green run

I mean they’re right, even on the worst days* (semi-rad)

Despite all of that, this helpful graphic from semi-rad keeps me motivated:

Amount of woo could be broken down further based on location, expectations, snowpack, number of people that I don’t want to hang out with taking all the lines, level of social starvation over the past 4 weeks, and whether my employer’s stock is doing anything interesting. But in general, skiing ice/scoured tree runs/luge tracks in the rain sure beats sitting at a desk, and usuallyl beats sitting at home wondering if you should have gone skiing, which, coincidentally, is what I’m doing right now. ~~I hope it’s terrible out there.~~

Pow day if we had gotten high enough (we didn’t)

*I’m waiting until I’m senior enough at my job to have the balls to just set the semi-rad graph to my out-of-office auto response in outlook. I’m not there yet but someday. Mark my words.

It used to be a running joke that if you weren’t getting shut down 30% of the time in the Cascades you weren’t trying hard enough or chasing the right objectives. I realized a few years ago I never saw inversions anymore, and it’s probably because I didn’t attempt anything with a forecast of “partly sunny” aka socked in, but possible to get above the clouds (rare). The element of surprise is half of the reward of a trip. Surprise pow is always better than expected pow. Surprise views are always better than expected views. Surprise inversions are a freaking dream. You’ll never get them if you stop trying. Easy to say from the comfort of my couch.

At the end of the day, the suffering just makes those amazing days that much better. You pay your dues with some slogging in questionable conditions, rack up some karma, get really good at skiing crappy conditions, and eventually you really do land that waist deep powder day or that bluebird spring corn and raging endorphins oversaturate your vision and the views knock you over as soon as you crest the final ridge or the summit and then you get to giggle like kids the whole way down. And that’s what we’re chasing.

p.s. thank you to everyone who let me use pics of them wallowing and eating shit as part of this post. I am fortunate to have friends who still hang out with me despite me spending years saving up albums of wipeouts and misery and I expect nothing less in return.

You gotta keep trying… so you can get this

Yellow Mules MTB

Posted on February 18, 2024 by evejakubowski

Photos do not do justice to the density or vibrance of the flowers

I know, it’s like I wrote one thing and now the floodgates are open and I can’t stop and maybe last summer wasn’t as much of a flop as I thought. Here’s another highlight of the year, a wild bike ride with barely any reviews on Trailforks that was easily, hands down, the best bike ride I’ve ever done and probably ever will do. I spent the few days before being SO anxious because I had never ridden anything of this caliber, especially after chickening out on some banked turns on a blue run the day prior. I’m happy to say I only walked like 10ft on the way down. Which probably means this should be a green trail if it weren’t for the distance and elevation gain but you know. Let me enjoy the moment okay?

Distance: 20mi for the whole lollipop loop
Elevation: ~4,000ft gain, ~9,500 highest point
Weather: 70’s and sunny
Commute from Seattle: Long, it’s outside of Big Sky MT
Did I Trip: Actually, genuinely, no

This loop is utterly spectacular. Ride it counterclockwise/backwards (climb 2nd yellow mule first, then go down 1st yellow mule). Go when the flowers are out. Bring a ton of water. Ok here we go.

Rich people watering hillsides improving views

It starts on a super popular hiking trail that’s basically paved. I was so worried about the distance and duration of this ride I went straight to the granny gear when we started climbing, ready to sandbag. In fact I titled my Strava record “bears hear my granny gear coming.” The trail cris-crosses some actual roads in the first few miles, reassuring me if I totally died (or, bears) there’d be an easy escape. Those soon disappeared though, and the trail started started feeling like true wilderness despite glimpses across valleys of construction for ski resorts and whatever the Yellowstone Club does with their land that us plebs will never see. And as usual my body started to perk up after the first mile or so.

CAUGHT WALKING HIS BIKE FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER

The climbing is pretty consistent on the way up (second yellow mule) but the views get better and better as you do. We stopped for a snack around an hour in, I was feeling great but Max not so much. I even caught him walking his bike, a sight never before seen to our usual biking crew. The trail was through sparse forests and mini meadows full of wildflowers, and as we got further out and higher up the trees gave way to more and more wildflowers.

I. Love. Wildflowers. Like, on par with prime larches and waist deep powder and smooth clean warm waves and a really good hand crack and a tickly 4-3 suspension in a song I’ve been enjoying. So the pace slows as the photos ramp up, which is good because suddenly Max is getting sick on the side of the trail.

Our experiences diverged as he trended towards miserable and I was in my personal heaven surrounded by rainbows and color and full of endorphins. We took a few breaks as he pushed through whatever was going on with his body, electrolytes/elevation/exhaustion we’ll never know. At this point it made more sense to get to the top ridge and bike the easier downhill rather than bike down what we had climbed up, so we carried on. And the meadows were getting more and more spectacular so not to sound like an unsympathetic sociopath or anything but I was flipping back and forth between being concerned and unadulterated bliss drinking in our surroundings. I will never complain about flopping down for a break in a meadow that looks like something out of a fantasy animation. I’m honestly not sure what I’d have done in his situation. I wouldn’t want to call SAR but not sure I’d have the guts to get through it either. You never know til you’re faced with it I guess, fortunately Max is a tough one. Suffering is a skill.

And we aren’t even at the ridiculous meadows yet

There are WAY worse places to be miserable

Looking back at Lost Peak which now has an 80 person gondola going to the summit which is insane

They’re STILL GOING THERE ARE STILL SO MANY FLOWERS

We reached the ATV trail at the top of the ridge and took a break near a post (needed some landmark) where Max ran out of water. We hadn’t really passed any streams on the way up, and assumed there wouldn’t be any on the way down, and there certainly wasn’t any on the top of this massive mellow rolling ridge. I had already given him most of mine since I am a camel living in a perpetual state of dehydration, so at this point I grabbed both our camelbacks and took off cross country.

I figured there had to be some tiny snow patches lingering from winter on the northern slopes that would have some runoff at best or snow I could melt at worst. I apologized to every wildflower I trampled and suddenly came across our oasis, a 15×15′ snow patch with a tiny river trickling off its foot. I dug out a bit of a river and waited for the silt to settle and filled the bladders as best I could, jogging back up to Max through the disorienting featureless rolling grassy hills. Max is a crusher on the downhill sections so we knew as soon as we were done with the climbing he’d be fine getting back to the car and I’d be the one we had to worry about.

Water scouting mission successful, We hung out for a few minutes before biking the ridge to our turn off onto First Yellow Mule, where I immediately got off my bike and walked the first switchback downhill through a flood of “ah shit fun’s over” and “what have I gotten myself into” anxiety. I am not a strong downhill biker. I’m great at climbing, I got the endurance game down pat, but I’m a chicken going downhill especially after going OTB last year (did not inspire confidence). Max, on the other hand, was probably like “thank god” “fuck yeah” “fun’s just beginning.” Fortunately for both of us, the rest of the downhill was insane blissful cruising. Max had to wait but not THAT long since I was surprisingly comfortable on everything, probably because there were no drops or tight switchbacks. Again, maybe it’s a green trail if not for the distance and elevation. Shh.

crap, fun’s over, turns out I have to actually bike downhill

The main difficulty is that trail is extremely narrow and rutted, so it made sense to hop out of it and just bike raw ground for much of the descent. Which is terrible, there really should be some trail maintenance to prevent that, but the deep rut is nearly unbikeable. It’s extremely jarring trying to control a bike in a several-inch-deep single rut at speed. I will happily volunteer to help if someone tells me who to talk to. But ignoring that part, wow. Single track flowy downhill with barely any turns through ridiculous seas of wildflowers. I barely took photos because it was just too fast and fun. I have never biked anything like it and couldn’t believe it wasn’t more popular, but maybe Big Sky attracts more park type mountain bikers than cross country. I was legitimately disappointed when we got back to the intersection that would put us back on the popular/maintained hiker trail. I had lived a lifetime up on those mule trails and wasn’t ready for civilization yet.

I still look back on this ride like it’s a dream I didn’t actually experience in real life. Did it really happen if you didn’t suffer at all? No type ii fun? And it didn’t even take us that long, under five hours so it was pretty much a half day trip given how quickly we were able to bike down despite all the breaks on the way up

. If it wasn’t for the pics I’d be thinking I glorified it in my head, I can’t believe there are barely any reviews on trailforks.. It was one of those trips where everything lines up too perfectly for a 10/10 experience. I know Max probably downgraded that to like 6/10 but I was on top of the world, ready to quit my job and just bike the wildflower-riddled west for a few weeks. Of course that didn’t happen, instead I worked from a dark hotel room all day the next day and had my recently re-discovered soul sucked back out of my body again immediately. But wow did that trip set the bar high for biking. And a huge thanks to Max for powering through the distress, I’m not sure I’d have been able to do that myself. Glad we were able to redeem some of the day on the way down!

Have Tent, Will Travel

Trail running, mountaineering, and the occasional wipeout

Tag Archives: outdoors

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