Tolmie Peak

September 11, 2016

My sweet mother, whom everybody loved, has been gone from this earth for over 25 years. She was a kind, loving and generous woman who truly loved fishing, farming, and the outdoors - values she instilled in her daughters. Today would have been her 85th birthday. Each year my sister, Heidi, and I try to do something to commemorate the day and honor her memory. Sometimes we go together, which would have thrilled Mom, other times we celebrate the day separately. This year we chose a trail to hike together that she would have enjoyed - the trail to Tolmie Peak Lookout.

For me the adventure began on the road. The last 11 miles is all gravel and heavily washboarded, with occasional smatterings of potholes thrown in for good measure. My rear-wheel drive Mustang with sport suspension isn't exactly the best vehicle for such roads ... unless you enjoy the excitement of fish-tailing, and glissading uncontrollably across the surface, then eating the leather wrapped steering wheel as you hit an unseen pothole. I was attempting to apply ChapStick to my lips as I hit one particularly rough section. Had I been applying lipstick, the result would have looked like I was a victim in a low budget slasher movie. The mental image had me laughing the remainder of the drive to the trailhead.   

  

Tolmie Peak a popular trail located on the northwest side of Mount Rainier. The trailhead shares parking with Spray Park and Mowich Lake, which are also very popular, so it was good that we arrived early. By the time we came off the trail, the cars lined the road as far as I could see in both directions. We packed our last minute items into our packs, made some final adjustments and set off down the trail.

Just a few dozen yards down the trail I got my first peek at Mowich Lake. I had visited here a few years prior but under very different circumstances, and I remember very little of the lake. The trail descriptions don't prepare you for the wow factor. The sun had burned through the fog and was glistening off the lake's surface, a myriad of tiny prisms dancing in the light. Snow still covered the taller peaks behind the lake and the air had that feel of autumn. I took a few minutes to enjoy the view while chatting with some Sierra Club members who were performing trail maintenance on that section of the trail. Meanwhile my sister jogged back up to her car for a backup camera battery. It's always good to be prepared - especially when you're a photographer. 

We continued down the trail through a pretty forest, descending the majority of the way. The further down the trail we proceeded, the denser the forest grew. Eventually we started climbing and came to a junction that gave us the choice of Eunice Lake/Tolmie Peak, or Ipsut Pass. Neither of us had ever been to Ipsut Pass and it was only 1/4 mile up the trail, so we decided to take a quick detour. We popped around what looked like a large boulder (but tuned out to be a chunk of mountain) and were stopped in our tracks. Again, wow. The terrain dropped away from us quickly, the trail hugging the cliff wall to our left as it wended its way down into an absolutely gorgeous valley. Everything below was a beautiful emerald green. The clouds were beginning to move in, with swirling wisps wrapping themselves in and around the trees. It was breathtaking. We stood there at the top of the pass and drank in as much beauty as we could, then started back down to the junction to resume our journey. 

Breathtaking Ipsut Pass

Before long we had climbed out of the lowland forest and into a sub-alpine forest where the trees grow shorter and less densely. Between the clusters of trees were alpine meadows, just beginning to cloak themselves in their autumn colors. The brown-gray cliff face and ridgeline of Tolmie Peak jutted up imposingly in front of us; our destination, the old fire lookout, standing sentry at the top. And, sitting as a centerpiece to all of this, was the deep blue surface of Eunice Lake. We wandered along the shoreline, enjoying the serenity she exudes. Mom would have loved it here. She would have enjoyed fishing from the shore, whether there were fish biting or not. Guaranteed, had they been biting, 'fish eye basketball' would have been the entertainment for the evening.

Eunice Lake as viewed from the lookout

Eunice Lake was but a pit stop on our day's journey. We still had a mile, with 600 feet of elevation, to go before reaching the fire lookout. Although not nearly as steep as my summer hikes have been, I found myself struggling with this last push to the top. I started to get discouraged, but reminded myself that I was still recovering from a fall down a mountain. At least, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. The clouds continued to move in as we climbed, pretty much ensuring we would not be getting the 'in your face' view of Mount Rainer that this lookout is known for. We reached the lookout with only nominal effort. Once there, we found a spot to sit where we ate lunch and celebrated Mom. Although not jaw-dropping, the view was still remarkable. The actual summit of Tolmie Peak sat to our left and was accessible via a small spur trail. Due to my recent fall, we opted not to summit today. The clouds swirled about in front of us, amazing us with their dance-like movements. It was inexplicably poetic and planted a seed for future writing.

Tolmie Peak Summit

Our return trip down the mountain went quickly and without incident. We skillfully navigated the road and stopped to share a dinner together before parting ways. Our mom had two girls who bickered and fought through the majority of their childhood. It would have thrilled her to see us together as friends. It would have benn, I think, her birthday wish.

In loving memory of Patricia Pfeifer.

Heidi on the shore of Eunice Lake

Hike 46 of 52.

Distance: 7.5 miles

Elevation gain: 1100'
Highest elevation achieved: 5,900 ft

Point of Arches

September 4, 2016

Foggy morning at Point of the Arches

A good portion of our second day at Shi Shi Beach was spent hiking out to Point of the Arches. It's not a long hike out there, but we wanted to take our time and really enjoy the day. We were running low on fuel for our stove, so Kevin volunteered to hike back to the cars and grab an extra canister while the girls spent a day on the beach. Thus, after a trail breakfast of freeze-dried eggs & bacon (with extra bacon), Cupcake, Evie and I started our beach adventure. Shi Shi Beach is located in one of a series of coves located on the upper northwest Olympic peninsula. It is hemmed in on both ends by sea stacks; the southern tip is also home to some great arches ... hence the name 'Point of Arches'. We had already explored the north end, so today we were headed south. It was a foggy morning and stayed gray all day, but we didn't mind. This area is beautiful no matter what the weather is like.


Overnight the tide had come in high, leaving behind the sort of litter you actually want to see on the beach; kelp, shells and ocean-smoothed stones. We slowly hiked down the beach doing a bit of beachcombing on our way - Cupcake found a few shells to add to her fledgling collection at home and I picked up a few of the nearly perfect white stones that I covet. We noted the various campsites set up along the beach and decided we had the best camp of all because our tents weren't filled with sand (or hopping with humongous sand fleas). We watched seagull parents walk their adolescent chicks down to the water for a lesson in feeding. It was fun watching them race in and out with the tide, searching for delectable morsels and testing their newfound flight skills.  


The previous night had been a rough one for Cupcake, due in part to the absolute dark in the woods and in part to the loud roar of the surf. She, I learned, is afraid of the dark and has frequent nightmares. We talked, the two of us, about the nature of waves. We discussed the 'whys' and 'hows' of tides and waves, and about the safety of our campsite in the trees. All along the way she tested the water-repellency of her hiking boots, which, I'd like to point out are only effective up to the ankle. At that point, we tested the insulating quality of good wool socks. This we learned when crossing Petroleum Creek - the only fresh water source on the beach. 

Cupcake braves the sea cave

1.5 miles later we made it to the Point of Arches where we explored a sea cave and more tidal pools. The anemones seemed bigger at this end, the starfish were more numerous, and the rocks were covered in huge clusters of mussels. The plant life in the pools differed as well. We carefully made our way over a few of the rocks, doing our best not to step on exposed anemones. The tide, however, was coming in pretty fast so we didn't venture out very far towards the arches. They will be there to explore on another visit when the low tide is more significant.  

 

 

On the hike back towards our camp I took off Cupcake's boots, draped them around her neck and pulled up her pant legs. I wanted her to be able to enjoy walking in the water without me constantly scolding her to get out of it. The trip, after all, was supposed to fun. Once she had her shoes off, she walked a little in the water but then realized that digging her toes in the sand was just as fun. She liked the way it felt on the bottoms of her feet, so would go down to the water, then play in the wet sand a bit, then goof around in the dry sand, and so on. It brought back memories of my own childhood, playing on the beach with my mother and grandmother.

Surfers had hit the water while we were savoring our time on the beach. We sat and watched them for awhile, resting and enjoying each other's company. Cupcake, ever observant, was laughing at the seals, who would pop their heads up and watch the surfers. We tried to guess what the seals were thinking... "What are those silly humans doing now?", "When are they going home?", "Ha ha. Look at him fall."

While out on the beach we met up with some other campers who'd had better luck scavenging dry firewood and they offered to bring some up to our camp. By the time we returned from the stinky potty, they had a small flame going for us, which Kevin grew into a wonderfully warming (and feet/sock drying) fire. We fixed s'mores, then heated water for our dinners. The wind was starting to kick up a bit, blowing in a bit of a chill, so we were very thankful for Kevin's wonderful fire, and for the kindness of the young couple that supplied us the dry wood.

The clouds never really cleared up, so there was no sunset. As Cupcake very astutely pointed out, you can't have a sunset if you don't have a sun. We got changed into our warm fleece jammies and crawled into our sleeping bags, while Evie and Kevin enjoyed some time alone by the fire. She and I talked a bit more about waves, and I read a few pages to her until she fell asleep. I'm happy to say, there were no fears about the waves coming to get us, no issues with the darkness, critters in the woods, or the sounds of the wind in the trees. There was just one happy little girl sleeping soundly with her Nana.

My lil hiker, Cupcake

Hike 45 of 52
Distance: 3 miles
Elevation Gain: 0 feet
Highest Elevation Achieved: 0 feet (unless you count climbing on rocks!)


 

Shi Shi Beach

September 3 / 5, 2016

Back in June my granddaughter, 'Cupcake', asked to go backpacking with me. During every visit I would hear "Nana, I want to hike with you." She's six, so I knew my summer schedule would be too difficult for her. Keeping her request in mind, Evie and I worked together to plan a fun, interesting and easy overnight trip for Labor Day weekend, then cleared it with my daughter. Evie's husband, Kevin, even joined us. Much to everyone's excitement, after weeks of planning, the weekend finally arrived and we set off for our three day adventure.

A drier portion of the trail
to Shi Shi Beach

After a long drive, a 'forever' drive if you're six, we arrived at the trailhead with all the required permits in hand. Cupcake donned her pack like a pro and set off down the trail, trekking poles in hand. The trail began in a second growth forest of cedars located on the Makah reservation. It was interesting to see where patches of bark had been cultivated for use in making traditional headwear. When you hike with a youngster, your eyes are opened to amazing discoveries that, as adults, we miss; every twisted tree trunk, mushroom, and beetle was enthusiastically pointed out. Salmonberries and young alder 'reached out' to high-five us. A branch touched her head to feel her pretty hair because, you know, trees have leaves not hair.


The trail to Shi Shi Beach is heavily travelled, hosting as many as 300 people a day during the summer. It is well-known for its muddy patches that never really dry up, due to the close proximity to the cool, wet coastal air. We strode through and around these patches without incident until we reached the muckiest one, at which point Evie started laughing. The mud had pulled her shoe partially off, so she could now say she'd had her 'sole sucked' at Shi Shi!

Just as Cupcake was beginning to tire under the weight of her pack, we arrived at the toughest part of the trail - a 160-foot cliff face. Just beyond the trees you can see the ocean and hear its waves crashing ashore. The trail here is very steep, occasionally muddy, and riddled with large rocks and exposed roots. Fortunately there are a series of ropes affixed to trees to aid hikers in their climb to/from the beach. We were prepared to help Cupcake down this section of trail, but she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and bravely started her climb down. The girl is a hiking machine! I was so proud of her. 

"Stinky, stinky, stinky!"

At the bottom of the trail was a nice campsite, tucked up against the cliff wall in the trees. We opted to setup our camp here rather than on the beach as originally planned. We greeted the beach with a quick "Hello" then busied ourselves with setting up camp while Cupcake explored a little. We located the backcountry toilet, which was just a few minutes down the trail through the trees. Kevin and Cupcake gathered some firewood which, unfortunately, was too damp from the recent rains to give us an effective fire. Kevin gave it his best effort and built us enough of a fire to warm our hotdogs for dinner. After eating, we hit the beach to explore.

I love the ocean at low tide, when it gifts us with tide pools. They are amazing little ecosystems that give us a glimpse into life at the bottom of the ocean. Everyone had fun tickling sea anemones to make them curl up within themselves, watching hermit crabs lumber around in their mobile homes, spying bullheads hiding beneath the kelp, and searching for other sea life. We saw only a few starfish, but those we saw were healthy specimens, which made me happy. The past few years have seen our local starfish suffering from a disease that is 'melting' them. Seals rested on a distant rock, waiting for the incoming tide. A squeal of delight would erupt every time Cupcake discovered something new, much of which adults 'miss' or take for granted. There is nothing like seeing the world through a child's eye to make us young again. She learned to watch where she put her feet (not easy for a young child) so not to harm any exposed anemones, barnacles or mussels. I, of course, took advantage of this time to teach her some early eco-responsibility and naturalist lessons ... which she absorbed like a sponge. 

 

 


As the light began to fade, we sat on the driftwood near our camp and watched an amazing sunset. It had been a long day, so we all turned into bed, snuggling into our cozy sleeping bags for a good night's sleep. Our first night was a bit rough, but one that cemented my relationship with my granddaughter as one of love and trust. I will forever remember the waves of Shi Shi as the binds that will forever tie us together.  

 

Two days later, after an amazing weekend of fun, learning and exploration, we headed back up the cliff wall and down the trail towards home. Kevin, Evie and I watched Cupcake transform and grow up a little this trip. As we found peace and relaxation, she found confidence, fun, and ... well, I think we can sum her weekend up with this quote ... "Nana, I even have sand in my butt-crack."

Cupcake at Shi Shi Beach

Hike 44 of 52
Distance: 4 miles
Elevation gain: 200'
Max Elevation achieved: 200'      

 

Mount St Helens

August 20, 2016
The route to the crater rim of Mount St Helens is 5 miles in length, but this year's trek began 7 months and 250 miles ago. It was actually decided a year ago that I would be making the journey for a third time, when my sister fell ill just a few days before last year's scheduled trip. Her own Mt St Helens story began 18 years ago, and I was determined to help her see it through to the end. In January of this year I resumed my conditioning in preparation for another trip to the top. With my physical limitations, I have known all along that this would likely be my final trip to her summit - my body really struggles to meet the demands of Mt St Helens. But meet them it does.

Our group awoke pre-dawn, attached permits to their packs and hit the trail long before the sun began to peek over the horizon. Most of us had headlamps to maneuver through the mountain forest easier. If you have never hiked in the dark, you need to try it just once - headlamps cast an eerie light on the forest, illuminating only the path in front of you, casting shadows into the obscurity of the blackness. We hiked in absolute silence, the chattering of our excited group the only sound breaking through the darkness. We reached the tree line in time to watch the sun rise over Mt Adams in the distance as planned. We sat on the boulders at gateway to the Climber's Route, bathed in the early morning sunlight, and ate breakfast.



Sunrise with Mt Adams in the distance



Evie strikes a pose among the boulders

Having fueled ourselves, it was time to get down to business and start our climb. The route to the top can be broken down into three distinct and vastly differing sections. We had already completed the forested section. We now faced an imposing 2-mile boulder field that is beyond description and to which photos do no justice. It's really a series of boulder-riddled ridges, some running up the mountain, other's running perpendicular, or horizontally across the mountain. They are made up of boulders ranging in size from basketballs to Volkswagen Beetles. Some are granite, others are igneous (or volcanic) in nature, still others are shale. Most are covered in loose 'scree' (sand and gravel). As soon as you crest one ridge, you see another, and another, in front of you. Up, over and around the boulders we scrambled, the group breaking up into smaller groups travelling at different rates. There is no actual trail through the boulder field, just a series of marker posts set into rock cairns - you have to make your way from marker to marker as best you can. The crater rim is often visible, but never seems to get closer. The boulder field is my own personal hell.  

One of the sections of boulder field. Look closely for the trail marker!

Heidi surveys the scree field

After successfully navigating the boulder field, you are now facing the third and final section of the route - a scree field that is over a mile long. I affectionately refer to it as a vertical beach ... and purgatory. The last half mile ascends roughly 1,000' in elevation, which means you are climbing at a 45 degree angle, through scree that is a foot deep in places. For every step forward you take, you slide part way back again. You are over 7,500' above sea level here, so your lungs are screaming for oxygen. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears, working double time to keep up with the demand, which was made worse by the direct summer sun. Your calves start burning, as do your quads. You stop to wipe the sweat from your eyes and look up only to realize you've made it about half a city block. Still, we pushed on. 30 steps. Rest. 20 steps. Rest. 10 Steps. Rest. 25 Steps. Rest. Look up ... "Are you kidding me????" We 'lost' a member of our group here. She looked up at one point and said ... "Nope, I don't think so. This is stupid." She turned around and waited for us at the boulders.

For those who persevere and survive the trials of the mountain, the most beautiful reward awaits you at the top. The vast crater opens up before you, its walls dropping sharply to the bottom. From your vantage point on the southernmost edge of the rim, you look down at the ever-growing dome. In a few decades it will be visible from the south. Looking across the crater and dome you see the 'breach' where the mountain actually blew out her entire northern wall when she erupted. Beyond the breach is the renewed Spirit Lake, which evaporated during the 1980 eruption, and, rising beyond that on the horizon, Mount Rainier. Turn your back to the crater and you have Mount Hood to the southwest, and Mount Adams to the southeast.

View from the top. (photo by HIWalker Photo)

We celebrated our victories and ate a quick lunch. The blistering sun was getting hot and the day was only half done - we still had the return trip to make. My favorite part of the way down is the step-slide process to descending the scree field. What took forever to go up, took about 20 minutes to go down. Then, however, comes that cursed boulder field. I can't bear weight on my right hand, and my quads/hip flexor issues come into play. I have to slowly pick my way down over the boulders, which, I'd like to remind you, are covered in loose scree. Try picturing coming down steep stairs covered in marbles and you'll get the idea. The sun had reached the hottest part of the day and beat down on us unrelentlessly; its heat radiating back up at us from the boulders.

We were a little over half way through the boulder field when it happened. I stepped onto a boulder and slid on the scree. This had been ongoing throughout our descent, so I didn't think anything of it. I just hopped down onto the next boulder ... which was also covered in scree. From here things progressed quickly. I slid uncontrollably off that second boulder and started a stumbling course down the mountain. Somewhere along the way I went airborne, then landed on my forearms, skidding down the rocks until my slide was stopped abruptly by sliding headfirst into a rock. I had just fallen 10 feet down the mountain. I saw stars, literally, but thankfully wasn't knocked out, and sat myself up on a nearby rock. The resulting gash in my head bled profusely, as head wounds do. I immediately applied pressure until my sister was able to reach me. Fortunately we both carry first aid kits, and I had the foresight to pack 'VetWrap'. Heidi was able to stop the bleeding and bandage up my head, then cleaned out the rest of my wounds, which were numerous but not serious. She checked for signs of a concussion and had me take a few deep drinks of water to hydrate while we waited for the rest of our group to catch up. We radioed ahead to camp that I had fallen and was walking myself out. Stan took my pack from me so I could focus on getting myself down the remaining three miles to camp.     

Once back at camp I was able to be cleaned up more and checked out more closely. Our camp Angels had a fabulous hot meal ready for us, so everyone ate and rehydrated while sharing stories about their own adventure on the mountain. Nobody stayed up very late as we were all exhausted. I, for one, was never happier to see my sleeping bag. I crawled in and quietly gave thanks that I wasn't more seriously injured, that my sister was prepared for providing wilderness first aid, and for this glorious life I live. I may have walked off the mountain with a handful of injuries, but I walked off the mountain, and for that I am extremely thankful. My injuries included a minor concussion, a couple pulled muscles, a cracked rib and multiple abrasions and bruises. 

For my sister, this trip culminated an 18-year journey with six failed attempts. I was so happy to have been a wee part of her story.  Seeing the smile on her face when she finally reached the crater rim was worth every ounce of pain. 

Heidi and I (with Trail Turtle) at the summit

     

  

Hike 43 of 52.

Distance: 10 miles

Elevation gain: 4500'

Highest elevation achieved: 8,327'

Ptarmigan Trail

August 19, 2016


We began arriving at the Climber's Bivouac on the south side of Mount Saint Helens around noon. By the time the last of us arrived, we would number 15. As each of us arrived, we pitched our tents and began setting up our camp. From our site you could see our destination, the crater rim of Mt St Helens, just over the tops of the trees. Seeing it so close brought about feelings of wonder, excitement, nervousness and confidence. Of the 15 who would be climbing to the summit, only Stan and I were returning from last year.

As we sat in camp, the conversation stayed light but kept returning to the dominant topic - tomorrow's climb. Heads kept turning towards the trailhead, the call of the mountain distracting us all. I finally threw the group a bone ... "You want to go see it? The boulder field? It's just two miles up that trail. I need to check trail conditions anyway, since we'll be hiking it in the dark." I had two takers - Evie and Mark. So, leaving the rest of the group behind in camp, up the Ptarmigan Trail we went.

The south side of Mt St Helens was left relatively undamaged when she erupted in 1980; the bulk of the damage happened when her north wall blew out. The Ptarmigan Trail is an easy hike through the peaceful forest on the south side, gaining only 1,000 feet in two miles. It begins at the bivouac and two miles later intersects the Loowit Trail, which encircles the entire mountain. Just another half mile past that junction, it connects with the Monitor Ridge Trail, which is the climber's route to the crater rim. Climbing permits are necessary past that point.

The trail was in good condition, although I noted areas of considerable erosion since my trip the previous year. Some trail maintenance is going to be necessary in a few years, but we didn't encounter anything difficult or significant this year.

We hiked up to the tree line, which is the point where we caught our first glimpse of my nemesis - the boulder field. The reactions of Evie and Mark were at opposite ends of the spectrum ... Evie looked up there with reverence and maybe just a pinch of trepidation. She had, after all, heard my many stories about the field that lay just beyond. Mark, on the other hand, was beyond excited. I think he jumping up and down like a little boy at the ice cream counter inside! Through this year of preparation he has fallen in love with scrambling and mountaineering, and the sight of that wall of boulders set his heart a-flutter. As for me, I acknowledged the spirit of the mountain and prayed a quiet prayer that we would all have a successful and safe climb.
Giving them time to take in the view, I made note of the time it took us to hike to that point, added in the element of total darkness, and determined our morning start time. We then returned to the others in camp.

There was a certain comfort in hiking the Ptarmigan Trail to the tree line. It renewed my confidence and resolution. It quieted the fear and doubt in my heart, filling it with peace instead. That night I climbed into my sleeping bag and slept deeply, fully ready to face Mt St Helens for the third time.


Hike 42 of 52
Distance: 4 miles
Elevation gain: 1000'
Highest elevation achieved: 4,700 ft.