Fletcher Canyon

April 23, 2016

Today was my birthday. I turned 55 years old. I had to check an age bracket box this morning that put me in the oldest group ... 55 and over. Does this mean I'm old? I don't feel old. Well, not most days. I can remember my mother and grandmother at this age and, to my child's eye, they certainly seemed old. Of course, I didn't grow up during the depression. I haven't had to survive epidemics such as influenza, polio, measles and smallpox. By the time I was born, there were vaccines for such diseases. I was blessed to have been born in an era where children can expect to far outlive their ancestors. Perhaps turning 55 means I am 'coming of age' and that there are wonderful, bright adventures awaiting me on the horizon.

To celebrate my birthday in my own unique way, I decided to solo hike a trail that caught my eye a few weeks ago - Fletcher Canyon. Just the name sounded cool. So, after finishing our environmental stewardship at Kalaloch, Zillah and I headed to the Quinault Rainforest for our next adventure.

And adventure it was.

The Fletcher Canyon trail is a seldom-hiked trail in a remote area of the Colonel Bob Wilderness that is slowly fading into obscurity. It was originally a four mile connector to one of the routes up Colonel Bob Peak, but the last two-mile section has long since been abandoned and subsequently overtaken by a dense forest. To quote Craig Romano in his book Day Hiking the Olympic Peninsula ... "even Sasquatch now avoids it." 

Our adventure started out at the trailhead where an impressively huge boulder welcomes you into the canyon. The trail starts out somewhat steep and rough in places. There are some sizeable downed trees that the trail ekes around - they have been there long enough that the exposed roots have been smoothed by hikers hands and the elements. We found ourselves hiking through mature huckleberry, salmonberry, salal and a variety of ferns, as well as juvenile cedar, hemlock & vine maple ... all of which encroached closer onto the trail as we climbed until we were pushing ourselves through in places. As we climbed, the terrain grew rougher, the trail steeper, and the forest thicker. I found myself on hands and knees passing under trees that were too big to go over or around. 

      

A more 'civilized' section of trail where the forest begins to thicken

All along the way we could hear Fletcher Creek as it tumbled over multiple sets of rapids. I spied at least one waterfall, but was unable to get close enough to for a good view or any good photos. I would need a camera with a telephoto lens and x-ray filter, I think. What teasing snippets of creek I could see, however, were beautiful. The trail continued to carry us, not only deeper into the forest, but deeper into a canyon. Fletcher Canyon isn't a narrow chute of a canyon and it's easy to forget you're in a canyon at all. You're reminded of the fact as you draw near the end of the trail - I looked to my left at a long, tall wall of granite. I actually had to stand there a moment to take it all in. To take a photo would have done it no justice - you'll just have to endure the rugged terrain of the trail to experience it yourself. I will tell you this much - the forest and canyon were so dense that my gps lost me for about half a mile...    

 

Occasionally we came to places where we were uncertain in which direction to proceed. I would choose one path, and Zillah another. I'd ask her where she was going, that the trail went "this way", then go on my way, figuring she'd catch up. Instead, she would sit and wait for me to realize that her nose was better at route finding than mine, then excitedly bound up the trail once I dead-ended and returned. Towards the end of our journey, however, even Zillah's nose was unable to discern where we were to go. We were face-to-face with a sizeable boulder with no visible way around. It was here that we decided to turn around, giving up our quest for the elusive foot-log that crosses the creek. As we turned around, I started laughing. This is the trail that I not only just came up, but must now navigate down... Oh, and to add to the fun, it had started raining. Hard.

By the time we made it back down the trail we were both soaked. I was pretty much covered in mud from climbing/sliding under trees on the return trip. We were tired. Zillah tried climbing into the trunk of the Mustang. My knees were sore and quads quaking. We were both very ready to go home, but only for the day. 

You can be assured that I will return to find that foot log/bridge, as I am convinced that the view of the canyon and creek from there will be spectacular. Although I still find myself struggling with the tougher trails, I am enjoying this coming of age thing. 55 is going to be an incredible year with milestones to be reached, adventures to be had, and a myth of 'age' to be dispelled.

Hike 19 of 52.
Distance hiked: 4.25 miles

Elevation gained: 1100 ft

Max elevation achieved: 1450 ft

 

   

Kalaloch Beach 4

April 23, 2016

Each year for the past 12 or so, with a few exceptions, I volunteer as part of the Coastal Coalition and Washington Coastsavers. Together, on Earth Day weekend, we walk sections of our coastline, removing marine debris. Since this usually also coincides with my birthday, I get to celebrate by spending time in my beloved outdoors, giving back to nature.

This year I chose Beach 4 at Kalaloch for my section of coastline. I love the beaches at Kalaloch, from South beach up to Ruby, they make up the stretch of coastline running 20 miles south of Forks down to the Quinault reservation. Of this stretch, Beaches 3, 4 and 5 (and Ruby, of course) are my favorites and I have dedicated more than a decade to cleaning them.

The trail to access Beach 4 is about a half mile long, steep and beautiful through the windswept coastal forest. You can hear the surf crashing onto a beach of sand and small pebbles, and you can smell the salt in the air. Ah, but the first sight of the ocean through the trees always takes my breath away. From that first peek, I have only a few more steps before I cross a footbridge made primarily of driftwood, then clamor down a large boulder then I am there - on the beach. My grandmother's spirit lives there and I can almost feel her reach out to hold my hand for one of our strolls. 

Zillah playing on the driftwood logs

Beach 4 offers large driftwood logs to climb on, sand and pebble beach (the amount of sand is dependent on how low the tide is) and ... best of all ... Tide Pools! Zillah romped back and forth on the beach for a bit, then we climbed on the driftwood. This is where the bulk of the trash hides, so I picked up as we wandered from log to log. The draw of the tide pools grew stronger as we made our way down the beach, so we left the driftwood and headed in their direction. This wasn't Zillah's first cleanup and I think she is catching on to the 'game' of the event ... she would come across some debris and pick it up, joyfully tossing it in the air then running to me and dropping it at my feet, tail wagging. Of course, I was probably supposed to throw it for her, but she didn't seem too disappointed when I would tuck it into our bag, content instead to romp further down the beach in search of another 'toy' to play with.

Tide pools, for those who have never had the opportunity to explore them, are little marine universes trapped in the rocks between tides. You can see small fishes, crabs, sea stars, anemonies, sea cucumbers ... they are amazing. My mother and grandmother introduced us girls to the communities that exist in tide pools when we were young. I resisted the urge to poke the anemonies and watch them curl up in defense. Instead, I watched in wonder as they fed in full 'bloom'. It was mesmerizing. Until "Sploosh!" ... Zillah would jump in and disturb the whole thing. Oh well. We were there to pick up trash, not play in tide pools. Back up to the driftwood we headed, where we met up with a small group who was also cleaning beach 4.

 

 

Yellow Sea Anemone

 

Large tide pool at Kalaloch Beach 4

We joined this group for the remainder of the day. Together we walked about a mile of the beach, picking up debris along the way. There were a few water bottles, lots of Styrofoam bits, some sections of rope, and crab pots. Oh, how I hate those cursed crab pots. A commercial boat lost his entire load and we've been pulling them off the beaches for over a decade. I kid you not ... over a decade! We found six this year, but were only able to dig two of them out of the sand. They aren't lightweight, so we loaded our trash bags on top of them and started back down the beach.

You have to realize that cleaning the beaches isn't like highway litter duty. You don't just fill your bag and leave it for someone else to pick up. You actually have to haul it back up to the roadside. So it was that we lugged two heavy crab pots, a bundle of rope and our bags of trash back up the steep trail to the parking area. Our job for the day was done. We were a bit weary from the exertion, but felt good about what we accomplished.

Hike 18 of 52.
Distance: approx. 4 miles.

Notch Pass

April 16, 2016

On the Hood Canal side of the Olympics, a series of ridges and small peaks form the Quilcene Range and hem in the wilderness areas to the west. Two of these ridges come together and overlap, creating a small pass, or 'Notch'. Long ago this was part of the Native trade/hunting trail system that connected the Quilcene tribes to the interior, as well as their coastal trading partners. The history behind the trail earned it a place on my hiking bucket list.

The Notch Pass trail starts off fairly steep and stays that way until you crest the Quilcene Ridge, climbing 1700 feet in two miles. It never seems to matter how many trails I hike, I always huff and puff my way up, stopping periodically to catch my breath. Eventually we reached the top of the ridge and made our way over. We then give back some of that elevation as we ventured down the trail into the area where the two ridges meet and overlap, the 'Notch'. As soon as we hit the notch, we knew we had arrived somewhere special. The temperature dropped noticeably, lighting diffused and the 'feel' of the air itself changed. The ambient sounds all but ceased; there was no birdsong, no rustle of the wind in the canopy above ... just the hush of absolute silence. Even our footsteps were muted by the softer trail. The area around us was littered with small trees; damage from past windstorms, however few stumps were visible - they almost appeared as toothpicks dropped from the heavens. The entire landscape reminded me of a scene from the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Eerie yet beautiful.

Evie enjoys lunch on the banks of the Quilcene

Once we passed through the notch, the nature of the forest changed; we hiked on a bed of Hemlock cones through salal, Oregon grape and emerging sword ferns. The trail continued downhill, crossing two forest roads, then we had to go up and over another small ridge before reaching our destination - the Quilcene River and Bark Shanty Shelter. There was a boyscout troop at the campsite/shelter, so we went a hundred yards or so downriver to a nice, sunny spot where we dined. All to soon it was time to pack up and start our return journey.

The Notch Pass trail has the distinction of being a trail that is uphill both ways. Everyone in our group did great on the climb back towards the trailhead. We reclaimed the 1300' of elevation we gave back on our descent, our muscles groaning with the exertion. We marveled again at the area of the Notch, then began our steep downward trek back down towards the trailhead where our cars awaited us. By the time we hit the trailhead, everyone's knees and quads had been reduced to rubber. Even so, tired smiles erupted as spirits rejoiced at another great, strenuous hike was successfully accomplished. Our little hiking group rocks!


Myke, Andrea, Bill, Me, Evie & Dan

Hike 16 of 52
Distance: 8.6 miles
Total Elevation gain: 3,000'
Max Elevation achieved: 2,500'

 

Big Creek Revisited

April 17, 2016


I awoke feeling energized after the previous day's hike. The sun was shining, the morning doves were cooing their morning greetings. As I enjoyed my morning fruit/protein smoothie on the front porch, I was going through my mental checklist of things that I needed to accomplish; mow the lawn, do laundry, change/wash bedding, vacuum/sweep/mop, layout the patio space ... the list was lengthy. A few of my friends were going kayaking, but the recently discovered theft of my kayak was keeping me home. I saw myself facing two decisions - stay home wallowing in self-pity but getting my chores accomplished, or go hiking. Believe it or not, I actually struggled with the choice for a few minutes. The irresponsible wanderlust side of me won out in the end, so I laced up my hiking boots, kenneled the dachshunds, loaded Zillah in the car and headed for the mountains. Destination - a revisit of the Big Creek Loop trail, which is about 30 minutes from my house. There were a couple side spur trails I wanted to explore...

The Big Creek trail is a 5-mile loop with a consistent elevation gain of 900'. After the strenuous workout on the previous day's journey over Notch Pass, I was looking forward to a more moderate hike. I recommend this trail to be hiked clockwise, however, due to a bridge closure at the trailhead, we were forced to take it in reverse, which was fine. Zillah never expresses much of an opinion on such things, so up the trail we went.

This trail never ceases to disappoint the senses. Birds serenaded us most of our trip. You are never out of earshot of running water. The trees encountered on one half of the trail are different than on the other half. Benches have been constructed along the way to give pause, either to rest a moment, or simply sit and enjoy the quiet - although this is a fairly popular trail so you won't exactly be alone on the trail. You will cross four gorgeous creeks on this trail as well; Skinwood (with it's troll), Branch, Parallel (which runs perpendicular), and Big Creek.

Skinwood Creek

 

 

Big Creek

 

Branch Creek

When we came to the junction with the spur trail to the Ellinor Overlook, I unwittedly made the turn up the trail which, I'd like to point out, lures you in with the innocent look of a moderate trail. Don't fall victim to it's ruse like I did. In the next mile you will climb 1400 feet. One steep switchback after another we trudged, until we finally made it to the overlook. It was beautiful, I have to admit. The view of Mount Rainer is one of the better I've seen in quite some time, and you are able to see almost all of Lake Cushman. We couldn't see Ellinor from there, but the trail did continue on up the hillside, so perhaps another trip. As it was, Zillah and I were both fairly exhausted and I hadn't packed enough water for this intense a climb,  so we headed back down.

We took our time hiking out, partly because we were tired, and partly because I frankly didn't want to go home and deal with the real world. This visit to the forest was exactly what I needed - it helped to ease my mind, and cleanse some of the bitterness, sorrow and anger from my heart. Sometimes all we need is a little alone time amongst the trees to soothe our souls. 

Hike 17:52
Distance: 7.5 miles
Elevation gain: 2300'

 

  

Mount Walker

April 9, 2016

The trail up Mount Walker is a short, very direct route to the summit, where there are two viewpoints - one to the north and Mount Baker, the other to the south and Mount Rainier. With 2,000 feet elevation gain in just about two miles, this is an excellent conditioning route and you are guaranteed a good workout. For this reason, Mount Walker is a popular trail and sees a lot of use. We arrived at the trailhead early to avoid the crowds and our reward was having the summit to ourselves, shared only with a few chickadees and a handful of Gray Jays (Camp Robbers) who flew in hoping for breakfast.



Calypso Orchid



The road was still closed, so our trek started at the gate, which added roughly 1/2 mile to our journey. Our ascent began as soon as we hit the trailhead; the Mount Walker trail gets right down to business with a steady climb and the 20% grade doesn't let up until you reach the top. There are plenty of opportunities to enjoy the beauty of the surrounding forest as you stop to catch your breath. Wild rhododendrons grow here and were just beginning to bud, promising color for June's hikers. We were treated along the way to blooming trillium, smooth yellow violets, and a few beautiful calypso orchids. I love the springtime in the forest!





The unrelenting climb finally ended as we made the summit. The views here were of the Olympics, with the morning sun reflecting off a snowcapped Mount Constance and neighbors, the northern ends of Hood Canal and Puget Sound, with Mount Baker rising out of the clouds in the distance. We rested here a moment, then followed the road to the south viewpoint. Here we looked across Bremerton, Hood Canal, Puget Sound and Seattle, with Mount Rainier standing sentry. Both views are beautiful, but my personal preference is that from the northern point. Knowing that I will be backpacking in July in the area I was seeing in the distance, there in the shadow of Mount Constance, brought about a renewed sense of excitement.

Mount Constance as viewed from Mount Walker

We enjoyed lunch at the southern viewpoint, where we were joined by a view Camp Robbers hoping for a handout. When they realized we weren't going to share, they flew off. It was about that time that we, ourselves, decided to take flight and begin our return trek down the mountain. We snapped our group shot, packed up our gear and hit the trail.

As grueling as the climb up is, the descent is worse. On the way up your thighs, calves and lungs get a thorough workout. On the way down the knees, hips and quads take high impact abuse. By the time we reached the 'sanity' of the road, our legs were talking revolt. In the past I have struggled a great deal with the downs. I won't say I didn't struggle this trip, but I definitely feel a smidge of improvement over this same time last year. 

As a note, from late spring through autumn you can actually drive up to enjoy the views, if you are unable to make the trek up by foot.

Our group; Jeanne, Me, Bill, Dan, Myke & Evie

Hike 15:52
Distance: 5 miles
Elevation Gain: 2,000'
Max Elevation Achieved: 2,804'

Rocky Brook Falls

April 3, 2016

What defines a trail? If we look it up in the dictionary we will find:

Trail (noun): a beaten path through rough country such as a forest or moor.

Okay. By that definition, the trail to Rocky Brook Falls is indeed a trail. But, is it a hike? Not really, as a hike is defined as a "long walk in the country or wilderness" and the trail out to Rocky Brook Falls is anything but long. Nevertheless, I have chosen to include it in this blog because it really shouldn't be overlooked, no matter how long or short a walk it is.

Rocky Brook Falls is located just a short 10-minute drive from the trails at Dosewallips State Park, and is probably one of the Olympic Peninsula's best kept secrets. The trail, round trip, is roughly 1/4 mile. You read that correctly, one-quarter mile. 400 yards. Round trip! The terrain is rough near the falls as there are boulders strewn about everywhere - it is, after all, a waterfall. Up to that point, however, it is a leisurely stroll.

The brook itself is beautiful. It tumbles over rocks and boulders like a child skipping down a trail, babbling and singing as it goes. The trail follows it along about half way, then pulls away for a minute as it wraps around the cliff wall. Then, as you pop around the corner to rejoin the brook ... bam! ... You come face-to-face with one of the prettiest horsetail waterfalls in the area. Best payout for minimal effort EVER!

I love sharing this waterfall with friends and watching their faces when they first see it. It truly is a wonder to experience.

Hike 14 of 52 (yes, I'm counting it towards my goal!)
Distance: .25 miles

Dosewallips; Steam Donkey / Maple Valley Trails

April 3, 2016


Dosewallips State Park is beautifully situated on the east side of the Olympics, where the Dosewallips River meets Hood Canal. There is a sizeable campground here, where you are likely to encounter elk during the quiet morning/evening hours during the off-peak season. As in many areas of the Olympics, a logging operation was run here in the early 20th century. The campground is situated in the old homestead sites. Also located here is a 5-mile network of trails that offer visitors the peaceful serenity of the forest. It was these trails that Evie and I decided to hike on a bright and sunny Sunday afternoon.

We parked our cars and started our journey along the river. The trail here is called "Maple Valley" and it climbs 400' up the hill from the river into the forest. Benches are placed along the way for reflecting and enjoying the tranquility. The maples for which the trail was named were only beginning to bud, but all around us stately cedar, fir and hemlock stood in quiet repose. Along the way we would encounter evidence of the days when this area was logged; stumps of the grand old growth trees that once stood now played nursemaid to new trees, the roots of the younger trees looking like alien tentacles as they wrap around the nourishing stump towards the ground.

We intersected with the "Steam Donkey Loop" so took that trail. This section of trail was named for the steam locomotives that would haul the trees down the hillside to the water, where they were formed into rafts then taken by tugboat to the sawmill in Seabeck, or loaded on ships. If you take your time and look, you will see remnants of the old rail bed. A wise parent would brush up on the local history and share stories with their children as they investigate the findings. For instance, the rails back then were hand forged and hauled up the hill by mules - really cool stuff.

The trails here, as they loop and intersect one another, offer one amazing sight after another. There are footbridges, a beautiful creek, a few small waterfalls, a pretty little pond, and a tree that actually survived a lightning strike. And all within a five-mile stretch of trail with 400' of elevation gain. Kids can try to count how many different birdsongs they hear, try to identify the different types of ferns that line the trail, dip their toes into Phantom Creek and throw rocks in the river. For us adult-types, there is the blessed state of calm found only in the forest.

 

I can't think of a better way to spend a Sunday afternoon. Of course, on my way home I stopped at Hoodsport Coffee Company for a scoop of my favorite Lemon Lavender Ice Cream...

Hike 13 of 52.

Distance hiked: 5 miles
Elevation gain: 400'
Max Elevation achieved: 425'

 

Mount Zion

April 2, 2016

Close to a decade ago I climbed to the summit of Mount Zion for the first time. It was summer and I thought I might very well die on the trail up. Then, before I knew it, we were at the top and all thoughts of a trail-induced death vanished. I have made the trek up a half dozen times since. As it was my first summit, it also became my grandson's first summit, as well as a handful of friends.

The trail up Mount Zion isn't overly steep, but climbs steadily and consistently uphill, covering 1300 feet in just over 2-1/4 miles. It's just steep enough to suck the air out of your lungs and give your thighs a good workout. Due to the popularity of nearby Mount Walker, Mount Zion is somewhat overlooked, which meant we would pretty much have the trail to ourselves for the majority of our hike. This fact added to the intermediate grade of the climb was precisely why we ventured out on this trail.

Our adventure began on the drive up through the thick low-lying cloud cover. After a few miles of poor visibility (nothing like trying to dodge invisible potholes) we finally emerged out of the clouds into skies that were clear and blue. The morning sun lit the surrounding landscape and promised us a spectacular hike. We parked at the trailhead, donned our packs and began our trek. If you hike this trail in late-May/mid-June, you will be hiking through a cathedral of pink wild rhododendrons; alas, we were too early for the show. Instead, we were blessed with peek-a-boo views of snow-covered Mount Townsend and Mount Hamilton to the southwest, as well as other peaks too numerous to name here (I couldn't name them all anyhow...).

This trail doesn't possess many switchbacks, instead it leads you rather directly to the summit. We hiked through second growth forest (a fire burned through here decades ago), huckleberries, salal and wild rhodies. After a few pauses to catch our breath, we made it to the top. The summit itself was once home to a fire lookout, which was removed in 1975. It's evident why they built one there - the easterly view from Mount Zion looks across Puget Sound (which was heavily cloaked in clouds) to the Cascades. To the west, before the trees took over, you could once see across the northern portion of the Olympics. Sadly, I didn't get any good photos of the view to share.

There was a wee bit of snow left on the summit, in which the youngest of our group and our canine companions played. For many of the group this was their first mountain summit - as it was mine a decade prior. Zion holds a special place in my heart and I love sharing her. As we immersed ourselves in the moment, and the view, we ate our lunches. Eventually it was time to pack up and head back down. The downward journey is always harder on the joints than the trip up, and the Mount Zion trail was no exception. By the time we reached the cars our knees were voicing their displeasure at the abuse.

If you are in reasonable condition and would like to hike to the top of a mountain, I highly recommend Mount Zion and encourage you to make the trip to Quilcene. It's worth the effort. This is, and always will be, one of my favorite trails.

 

Our Summit Group;
(Clockwise) Lauren, Bill, Annalise, Lelani, Andrea, Evie, me



Zillah & me at the Mount Zion summit

Hike 12 of 52

Distance: 4.2 miles
Elevation gain; 1,300'

Max Elevation Achieved; 4,274'