Upper Dungeness River

11/26/2016


The Upper Dungeness River Trail has become an almost magical place for me. Something unique and enchanting can be experienced along the trail with each passing season. To wander the trail alongside the river feels ethereal, almost whimsical and at times dreamlike. I have watched the river change in color and intensity, its personality transforming with the seasons, and experienced the forest as it has cycled through its own seasonal transformations.

Upper Dungeness River in winter

The original plan for the long Thanksgiving weekend had been a three-day pack trip along the Upper Dungeness River to Camp Handy. With the issuance of a winter storm warning for the mountains, we decided to swap our backpacks for daypacks instead. Our merry little band today consisted of myself, Evie, Cupcake, and dogs Zillah & Jax. I love hiking with my granddaughter. She carries with her the jubilance and enthusiasm of a seven-year old, and a sense of adventure that mirrors my own. She sees things through glittery, rose-colored glasses and could probably put a positive spin on biting the head off a beetle. She's just that awesome. This trip, however, would test her mettle.


Our adventure started out on a cold, dreary and overcast Saturday. There were only two other vehicles in a normally full parking lot, which meant we would almost have the forest to ourselves. We layered our raincoats over our fleece, grabbed gloves, leashed up the dogs and headed up the trail. We hadn't gone far before we encountered the first of many streamlets that would need to be crossed. By the time we had crossed a half dozen of them, Cupcake's feet were wet. Water-resistant boots only work in water that's not deeper than your boots are tall. By now a steady drizzle had begun and we were glad we had raingear. Before long the trail became a rapidly flowing stream of water that was a few inches deep in places. We splashed our way up the trail, skirting the water off-trail where necessary. The dogs, meanwhile, had been let off-leash and were romping up and down the trail, staying within easy recall distance and having a great time. 

Cupcake & Zillah at the river's edge

We were about 1/3 of the way up the trail when we encountered the first of the snow. At first it was just on the sides of the trail. Soon it was heavy enough that it mixed with all the water on the trail, meaning we were now sloshing through a few inches of slush. I was worried that Cupcake's feet were going to get too cold as they were already wet. When I suggested we turn around, Cupcake asked if we could please try pushing on to the shelter at Camp Handy. By the time we reached the bridge crossing the river, we were walking on compact snow and I could tell Cupcake was starting to get cold. We forged forward another 1/4 mile, but now daylight and the worsening rain became an issue. Evie and I made the decision to turn around for safety. We found a log where we could sit for some hot cocoa and a quick snack before heading back down.




Cupcake straddling the water rushing down the trail

Evie makes her way across the snow-covered footbridge

As we began our return trip, the rain turned into a light snow. Cupcake found it magical to be hiking along in it. We reached the car as the last of the day's light faded into evening and the snow began falling in earnest. The road that was clear on our trip up wore a sheet of snow for our trip down.

I have never been more proud of my granddaughter than I was this day. From her coat down she was soaked to the skin. Her wool socks were so wet that I wrung them out. I stripped her down and put her into dry clothes, layered on some warm coats and wrapped her shivering little body in blankets. Not once did Cupcake complain about being cold. Nary a whimper nor protest was heard. She toughed it out like the trail princess she is. On a trail as magical as this one, she could have slain a dragon...

Hike 55
Distance: 6.2 miles
Elevation gain, 600'