Mount Pilchuck

June 19, 2016

Some trails will always be dear to my heart, and the trail to the retired fire lookout atop Mount Pilchuck is one of them. It's not a long trail, feeling longer than it really is. Although not rated as difficult, it's just difficult enough to make it challenging. On a clear day, the views are spectacular. It also holds the distinction of being the first trail I ever helped maintain with the Washington Trails Association - we replanted sections where folks had gone off-trail and destroyed a few delicate areas. When an alpine area is damaged, in this case from human over-use, it can take decades (or as much as hundreds) of years to restore itself. The WTA will work with local forestry agencies, botanists and volunteers to help nature out and speed that process up a little. I was, and remain, proud to have been part of that process.

Our intention, this Father's Day, was to hit the trail early to more or less have it to ourselves for a bit. However, due to a slight snafu with ferry schedules, we weren't actually on the trail until almost 9:00. By then the parking lot was 1/4 full. Although the weather the previous day had been for snow at the summit, the forecast for this day was mostly sunny skies. With great excitement and anticipation we hoisted our packs on our backs and started up the trail, Zillah at the lead. This dog loves to hike and I've only known her to show reluctance about a hiking adventure once; her exuberance today was almost infectious.

The trail starts out moderately, with large rocks making an almost immediate appearance, a mere hint at what lay in wait on the trail ahead. The snows higher up were melting, sending a steady stream of water down the trail. In places we were hiking through water about an inch deep, in others through thick mud. We splashed, squished and 'schlucked' our way up the trail, through a lush forest. Varied Thrush whistled their greetings, welcoming us to their home. The air was crisp and the sky looked promising. All around us buzzed annoying gnats, enjoying the cool, moist air under the trees.

The trail grew difficult to follow as we came to the first boulder field. So many hikers had taken small side trips off-trail that we followed the wrong course; instead of heading over the top of the field, we took a lower route. Zillah was let off-leash so neither of us would risk harming the other should one of us slip. As we were stopped trying to re-find our route, we caught sight of hikers on their return trip down the trail ... way above us. It was then we realized our mistake and turned around. I lost my footing on a wet moss & lichen covered boulder and down I went. I landed smack on my butt, hitting my forearm on the boulder with the impact. After an emphatic "Ow!", I laughed as I thought to myself "That one's gonna leave a nice looking bruise." I regained my footing and made my way to where the rest of our group, who had made their way back to the trail, was waiting, worriedly watching my progress.

From that point, the trail gets steeper, rockier, and more challenging ... and, thankfully, bug free. This trail sees so much use that any gravel hauled in by the WTA has long-since been swallowed up by the trail. The manmade steps, once filled with gravel, were now hollowed out frames for exposed boulders and mud. Alongside the trail lay the remains of an old tramway, a glimpse into a bygone era and a nice distraction from our steady climb. We continued up through subsequent boulder fields, stepping up, over and around boulder after boulder. Interspersed between the boulder fields were snowfields. They were rapidly melting so had become a slushy, slick and wet mess, worsened by the number of people traversing them (many in running shoes).

Pilchuck boulder fields (photos by Evie Osburn)

As we climbed, the clouds gave us altering views of the surrounding landscape. We had periods where we were hiking through wispy, mist-like clouds, casting an eeriness to the trail. The clouds would build and thicken, then break apart, bathing the slopes in sunlight. The breeze would swirl around us, carrying the clouds back in and cloaking us again in their cover.

We finally made it to the summit. The lookout is perched atop some large boulders. To access it you have to scramble up the boulders, then climb a ladder. There were dozens of people trying to navigate the boulders, both up and down at the same time, with no heed for anyone's safety. We split our group of four in half - two went up first while the other two ate lunch with Zillah, then we swapped.

Evie makes the final ascent

The clouds were determined to stick around for our stay, obscuring our view of the Cascade Range. They also ensured the temperature stayed in the crisp range of 40-42 degrees. Every so often the clouds would move aside just enough to give us a teasing peek of the view they were hiding. We didn't stay up there long, as there were more hikers showing up by the dozens. We decided to leave before it got dangerous due to over-crowding, especially since more dogs were showing up as well. Zillah is well-behaved and has good trail manners, but such is not always the case with other dogs we encounter.


On our trip back down the mountain I slipped on the slick snow and again landed on my derriere. There was no way I was getting on my feet without risking a dangerous slide into the trees, so I took advantage of my sitting position and slid to where I could safely stand upright. Talk about fun! Sadly, that was the end of my fun for the descent. My knees, quads and hips didn't want to hold my weight with each step down I needed to take - I found myself supporting myself on my trekking poles and lowering myself down over each boulder. It was slow-going, painful and frustrating. I don't understand why I appear to grow weaker with each hike instead of stronger. Nobody else in our group seemed  to have any difficulty. I have an appointment to discuss my concerns with my doctor.


Everything that goes up must come down, and that includes little old ladies who hike at a snail's pace. After what seemed a small eternity we found ourselves back in the bug-cloud, which meant we were close to the car. I inhaled a few gnats for the extra protein, huntress that I am, and finished my hike with a half-hearted 'Rocky' jog off the trail. It was a long day but, my own frustrations aside, a good day. It saddened me to see the area we replanted a few years ago, which was lush and healthy this time last year, destroyed again. Visitors to the historic lookout have defaced it with graffiti. The erosion of the trail due to the sheer number of people who hike it was alarming. I was able to notice a difference since I last hiked it a year ago. The trail to Mount Pilchuck holds a special place in my heart, and always will, but I love it too much to return. I don't want to contribute to its demise. Perhaps I can return as part of another work party to rebuild her.

Me & Evie at the Lookout

Hike 29:52
Distance: 5.4 miles
Elevation gain: 2300'
Max elevation achieved: 5,327 ft.