I love hiking in the Buckhorn Wilderness. Located in the northeast corner of the Olympic peninsula, it has a lot to offer hikers of all abilities. I never grow tired of exploring the trails there. The Gray Wolf River trail was once 18 miles in distance, until a flood in the 1990's washed out the bridge that spanned a high, narrow canyon. The trail has subsequently been cut in half and the upper portion has almost faded into obscurity. The Lower Gray Wolf River trail is moderately hiked, and absolutely gorgeous. I, myself, have hiked to its abrupt end twice. I have stood on the canyon wall nearby the previous location of the bridge footings, gazing across and trying to pick up the trail on the other side with my eyes.
I'm still mending a cracked rib from a recent fall so wanted to hike a trail that would push me a little but not too much. The Slab Camp Creek trail fit the bill perfectly. It was also a good opportunity for my co-worker Alyson to hit the trail with me, and to provide Zillah with a much needed romp. Hiking partner Evie and her granddog, Jax, joined us as well. With a glorious sunrise drive north along the Hood Canal and a weather forecast in our favor, it was shaping up to be a fantastic day. I can't think of a more glorious way to while away the time than walking through the forest with friends.
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| Dense forest surrounded the trail |
If you are seeking solitude, then this is the trail for you. In fact, you may be the only people in the forest, as were we. The only other car at the trailhead was out on another trail with the same terminus. Once we located our trail, we set off on our adventure. The trail quietly and steadily marches you downhill into a beautiful and deeply forested canyon. The forest here was so dense that I'm sure it coined the phrase "You can't see the forest for all the trees". The understory was thick with salal, devils club and ferns. A thick carpet of moss covered the forest floor. The air smelled of nourishing peat and bore the wet, mossy perfume of a forest preparing itself for winter. I couldn't help but stop and draw a deep breath. I could almost feel my blood pressure lower a few points as I exhaled. Peace.
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| Alyson travels down into the canyon |
Once on the canyon floor, we crossed a few streams then regained a bit of our elevation. As we came to a junction, we turned left onto a trail less travelled while the main trail headed west towards Deer Park, which lay beyond the National Park boundary. We were now on the upper portion of the Gray Wolf River trail, which hugged the wall and carried us back down into the canyon. Here the Gray Wolf River thunders through a narrow gorge, carving into the canyon wall with the force of its waters. Zillah stayed right at my heel as we worked our way down the trail. We pushed through brush where it grew over the trail. We had to navigate a washout and uprooted tree. In places the trail was so scant it was nothing more than a boot path. The river below us filled the forest with its modest voice. Later in the year, when the water level has risen, his voice will be more resounding.
Once on the canyon floor we witnessed the river's force and determined resistance. Where the canyon had closed in, constricting the river into an anorexic channel, it had undercut the canyon wall and carved itself a massive overhang. The colors of the river were amazing, ranging from dark grey to turquoise. We wandered along, not far from its banks, for a short while before the trail started to climb again, towards its terminus - the location of the former bridge. The end of the line for us, however, was a landslide that took a sizeable portion of trail with it. I looked up and across, my eyes scanning for the trail on the other side. Once I picked it out, I was satisfied as my quest had been fulfilled.
Once on the canyon floor we witnessed the river's force and determined resistance. Where the canyon had closed in, constricting the river into an anorexic channel, it had undercut the canyon wall and carved itself a massive overhang. The colors of the river were amazing, ranging from dark grey to turquoise. We wandered along, not far from its banks, for a short while before the trail started to climb again, towards its terminus - the location of the former bridge. The end of the line for us, however, was a landslide that took a sizeable portion of trail with it. I looked up and across, my eyes scanning for the trail on the other side. Once I picked it out, I was satisfied as my quest had been fulfilled.
Our trip back to the trailhead was serenely quiet and peaceful. A storm was brewing; not only could we feel it, but the birds could as well. They were all tucked away under cover in their nests. A brave chipmunk scampered across the trail and up a tree, enticing the dogs to a quick game of chase. Both were quickly called off the 'hunt' and obediently returned to our sides. Evie's hamstring injury flared up with about 2 miles left to go until we reached the trailhead. An occasional drop of rain hit our heads, which motivated us to continue on. I have to commend Evie on her ability to hike through the pain and maintain her pace up the trail.
The skies continued to darken, so we quickly loaded the dogs and packs into the car in an effort to beat the impending storm. Just as we engaged the transmission to 'Drive', the skies let loose. The rain that fell came down in buckets - enough so that we had to stop the car because the wipers couldn't keep up. Seemingly out of nowhere, a half dozen deer appeared in front of us, racing into the dense tree cover we had just left. The squall passed quickly enough and we proceeded down the road, which was now channeled with streamlets of ground water. We praised our good fortune and the many blessings of the day as we returned to civilization. I feel doubly blessed that I am able to experience these adventures with such wonderful friends and Zillah at my side.
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| Ever-vigilant Zillah |
Hike 47:52
Distance: 7 miles
Elevation gain: 1100'
Highest point: 2540'
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