Archive for the Category »Hike-a-thon «

Aug
30

I’ve been pretty exhausted, and my backpacking trip plans have been withering and dying as I don’t want to do a solo trip, so for today’s last hike of the -a-thon, I convinced Jason to come with me to Cougar Mountain. Again. 🙂

We did our standard four mile loop, getting Neo some exercise so he can be “a good dog is a tired dog”.

It was also fairly uneventful, aside from the way down.

We ran into two balloons, tied to a box, underneath a tree. They were pirate balloons! (Oh no! Forest pirates. Argh matey, walk the limb!) A little sign noted it was for someone’s birthday, and sure enough, it wasn’t long until we started seeing little kids (oh, five or six? I’m bad at estimating kids’ ages) running up the trail, adorned with plastic pirate swords and belts. Occasionally we’d see an eye patch or vest, too. And lots of parents walking along side them. Now that’s how to have a fun birthday treasure hunt, argh!

Aug
26

This time, we made it to the top. It was a pretty warm day, and we ran into a lot of people in both directions, but slow and steady got us there! Not really anything particularly fascinating to report other than a summit register at the top. Really? A summit register at the top of West Tiger 3?? Oookaaaayyy…

Aug
21

Thursday, Neo and I hit West Tiger Mountain 3. Hoping to avoid reroute induced missteps like last time, we headed straight up West Tiger 3 trail. And up it felt. I was lagging, Neo was ok but not springy, and I turned around a little over a mile in. It got us out, which was good. And I had a very good nap that afternoon.

Sometimes, the hiking doesn’t work. That’s ok.

Aug
18

At a very slightly earlier time, we all made it out of our tents, and eventually around the breakfast … well, logs. While the fish continued to jump up over the lake to catch their breakfasts, we nearly emptied our packs of food, all the lighter for the march out.

The trip out being mostly down hill, we made excellent time at first, reaching the fork for our home of the previous night very quickly. We maintained the quick pace for a while, as we started decending down into the valley. The dappled sunlight proved to be tricky, however, as Steve took a hard fall over a root hidden in the shadows, slamming his chin into the ground and eating a mouthful of dirt. Once he felt he was ready to continue on, and the pace picked back up, the nausea that I almost felt coming on really did assert itself. When we stopped a bit later, I tried having a bit of a snack, in case it was a blood sugar issue, but not long thereafter, I was throwing up on the trail. I tried to shout out to Sue to let her know I was still behind (as I let the group know I wasn’t feeling well), but it’s amazing how much breath you don’t have when you’re throwing up. I slowed down significantly, but there was nothing for it but to keep going.

A Blurry Last Day

A Blurry Last Day

It hit me one more time, at an overlook where everyone stopped for a break, and there really was nothing left in my stomach, but it was still unhappy. At this point, in order to make this more doable, Sue traded me out some plain water for the Nuun (an electrolyte replacement water additive that I’ve had many times in the past) watered I had which would no stay in my stomach, Steve took my remaining water and tent to get about nine pounds out of my pack, and Bill took up rear guard, to make sure I was ok. All that remains in my memory is keeping one foot in front of the other and counting my breath. At one point, everyone regrouped, Bill took the car keys, trading positions to be in front, but eventually, we all met back at the car.

Twisp Restaurant Refuel

Twisp Restaurant Refuel

Twisp Restaurant Refuel

Twisp Restaurant Refuel

After a bit of initial cleanup and first aid on blisters and scrapes, we packed back in, and Bill drove us up to Twisp for lunch at the Twisp River Brew Pub. Fortunately, I was feeling well enough to think about food, and the waitress talked to the chef to turn what is ordinarily a madras curry into something gluten and dairy free, but also nice and easy on my stomach. Real food tasted wonderful. The others partook in the home brewed offerings the pub had.

There were just two more stops on the way home, or gas and for ice cream. And so, we ended back at the park an ride where we started, five hatchbacks lined up with hatches open, redistributing gear, giving our final hugs, and heading home.

Aug
17

And so it is the third night. I write to you again from inside a tent, in order to avoid the bugs, after a game of Farkle.

Bird Watching in the Morning

Bird Watching in the Morning

The morning began leisurely again, some time around eight. Breakfast ensued, in a somewhat piecemeal manner amongst the five of us, but it was accomplished yummily, and with a plethora of birds to entertain us. (My breakfast was lentils an eggs, with chipotle seasoning. Yum!)

Ware the Gills!  Bad Mushroom!

'Ware the Gills! Bad Mushroom!

The tents had to dried a bit after the night on the meadow, but we eventually dried everything off, packed up, and started down the brook that we had camped along. I got to take the lead down the meadow, as I was part of the team that wen exploring yesterday. It felt like a quiz; Steve said it was. Fortunately, there was only one spot where I was distinctly uncertain which way we had gone. But there were mushrooms to explore on the path (we learned about amanitas), and a lot of wildflowers to “ahhh” over.

A Bee, Getting Loaded on an Aster

A Bee, Getting Loaded on an Aster

And so we eventually made the main trail again.  It wasn’t a very long distance to our turnoff, but as there were so many things to examine along the trail, it certainly took some time to traverse.  Fortunately, we didn’t have far to go until Angel’s Staircase – 1000ft in 1.6 miles, with most of the elevation gain being in the last mile.

Starting up Towards Angels Staircase

Starting up Towards Angel's Staircase

The ascent started through wide open meadows, showing us yet more blooming flowers, and began heading up hill, up switchbacks, up some distinctly steeper terrain. It was a lot of switchbacks, along the side of a mountain, with trees (and flowers amongst the trees), which left the visibility to the goal a little lacking. I found that particular climb a bit sloggish, though the views were great over the valley we were ascending above, and I could see Jeanne and Bill below me on some of the switchbakcs. About two thirds of the way up, I could finally see Sue ahead of me (Steve already long gone, doing his best “mountain goat climb” impression). Once I could see her, and start to see the end of the climb, it felt a little faster. I wasn’t any easier terrain – it was still steep and was now all somewhat unstable rock – but the goal was in sight.

Trying to Identify the Mountains - So Many Mountains!

Trying to Identify the Mountains - So Many Mountains!

It wasn’t too long until all five of us stood atop a little plateau, over a pass, looking down at the meadow of our campsite, the path we followed skirting the valley, and the base of the mountain we had just climbed. And looking up at the length of the rugged North Cascades, and the comparatively rolling Central Cascades. The view from 8000ft enabled Sue and Steve to definitively identify Rainier and Glacier Peak in the distance, and speculatively identify Mount Stewart and the range sheltering the Enchantments, where we all backpacked two years ago.

Savasana on the Pass

Savasana on the Pass

The updraft off the valley was chilly (to me, anyway), but the sun came out to warm us. A leisurely lunch and rest followed the wonder of the views, and we took the time to take a number of pictures, including ones of me doing yoga poses at the top of the pass.

Eventually, we carried on, skirting just below the ridge from the pass we came over, affording us views to another valley we were not heading into, which held a cirque with a lake surprisingly high up the valley walls. It wasn’t very far to another pass into the valley we were descending to, overlooking Eastern Washington. We had a vey steep descent here, which felt surprisingly stable, given I had left my trekking poles at home. Most of the way down the valley, we had views of our first (and potentially day’s) stop, Cooney Lake.

Surprise! A Lake Half Way Up the Mountains Side

Surprise! A Lake Half Way Up the Mountain's Side

Cooney Lake

Cooney Lake

While there had been discussion over where to go for the evening’s camp, all we had agreed on was making a decision at Cooney Lake. We walked over to the far side of the lake, to a rocky outcropping that Bill had camped on previously. Before making any decisions, Steve tested out the temperature of the water, and Bill joined him. As Jeanne let me borrow her pack towel, I jumped in too, or at least had planned to, before stepping in to the lake to find out it was rather quite chilly indeed. Of course, the bright purple Crocs, bright pink kinesio tape on the knees, and matching green underwear/swimsuit was a hit for the “trail fashion” fans.

Cooney Lake Swimming Hole

Cooney Lake Swimming Hole

After coming out if the water, though, we really did have to figure out where we were going to camp. Much discussion ensued. Much indecision ensued. Much weighing of one factor and another ensued. Many opinions ensued; more opinions than we had people, or choices. Fortunately, Bill made an executive decision, echoing the prevailing sentiment at the moment (as I recall it) to continue on to Martin Lakes. After all, the locals raved about Upper Martin Lake.

So we carried on, losing a fair amount of elevation gain, traveling a fairly nice path under to loosely canopied forest. There were occasional streams to cross, and gentle breeze to cool us off. Once we made the intersection to head up to Martin Lakes, however, the ascent began again.

Martin Lake, the Second

Martin Lake, the Second

About a half mile of steady uphill later, we found ourselves at the first Martin Lake. I had been in the lead and was oblivious to missing a fork in the trail, heading to a horse camp – a very large, spacious horse camp with a large fire place. But I was able to find the group again, retracing my steps and heading down the other path. And so we found the highly recommended Martin Lake. It was under-inspiring, to say the least. But we had heard that the second Martin Lake (there appears to be a chain of four of them) was better. And so we continued. The second lake was not an improvement. So where to camp?

Heading to Martin Lake, the Third

Heading to Martin Lake, the Third

Out of curiosity, a few of us wanted to explore the slightly higher lake, to see if maybe there was something worth while. As Sue was not interested in more elevation gain, and was interested in the many birds around the lake edge, she stayed behind with our packs as the rest of us headed farther ahead – along a tiny trail, having mislaid the larger one, until Bill bushwhacked his way back up to it. Eventually, we came out onto a large meadow, with slight valleys off to either side, and a suspicious rise just off to the left of the trail. Bill crossed overland to it and let out an exclamation. I headed over, and here right in front of us, surrounded by steep walls of wildflowers, was a crater of a lake, dark water shadowed by the mountain rising up from the banks.

Reflection in the Third Martin Lake

Reflection in the Third Martin Lake

The Crater Like Martin Lake, the Third

The Crater Like Martin Lake, the Third

Unfortunately, the ground all around this gorgeous, and – in my limited experience – unique lake was a rocky, lumpy, gangly meadow, with no real good place to pitch a tent. And though I could hear the outlet to the lake, we had not found any good source of water. Steve asked a few questions about the horse camp I had seen earlier, and we cane to a partial group consensus to head back down that way. We picked up Sue and our packs on the way down, but found an even nicer camp before getting all the way to the end of the lake, and stopped right there.

Dinner at the Last Camp

Dinner at the Last Camp

We unloaded, bug blocked since the mosquitoes were making their best showing of the trip, and pumped a whole bunch of water before preemptively putting up the tents and then making dinner. Much discussion over the quantity and preparation of dinner followed, and I’ll bet that never before had the preparation of a Mountain High meal required a cook and two sous chefs. It was apparently quite tasty and cooked just right, however. (I had lentils, chicken, and a veggie spice mix that was awesome!)

After dinner was put away, and the evening ablutions completely, all five of us squeezed into my tent to play Farkle(tm – apparently). It’s a fun, dice based game that is something of a cross between poker and Yahtzee. The game kept us up later than any other night so far. Bringing me to – an hour later, the end of this trip report, on more visit to the trees, and then some shuteye.

Aug
16

Nearly eight o’clock now, and I’m back in my tent, a babbling brook off to the side (oh… bladder, ignore the running water), gorgeous sunset over the meadow with a view out the tent door, and snug sleeping bag around me. The marmots are whistling in the distance, and my compatriots are out enjoying the views. (I really do just get that cold that quickly, and the sun is approximately ten minutes from gone.)

Camp in the Meadows

Camp in the Meadows

After the brief snooze in the flowers, we set up camp and did a little exploring. The meadow is off of officially marked trails, but we need to return to those trails for tomorrow. Since we weren’t entirely sure exactly where to meet the trail (we know where we are, and we know where the trail is, but the path between the two was less certain.

So Steve, Jeanne, and I headed out, past the spot where Sue and Bill turned around, continuing their mushroom hunt. (They were collecting large rosey bollettes, if I remember correctly.) We continued down a barely marked path, which occasionally disappeared, and occasionally showed clear signs of motorcycle tracks. Eventually, still not quite finding the path, Steve decided to head to the saddle that the trail crossed. Before we had to climb the entire distance to the saddle, however, we crossed the main trail, and headed the other direction, away from the saddle, trying to find where the run from the stream we are camped next to crossed the man trail. Eventually, much farther along than we expected (and brief discussion about the relative placement of stream crossings over the trail and estimated location of camp), we found a spur trail that led up to the horse camp not far below our camp. As that spur trail meets the main trail significantly south of where we want to go (and is not only longer, but loses us more elevation that we will have to recover going over the saddle), we will be going overland tomorrow.

Upon our return, it was time to get down to the business of dinner. My brilliant idea to leave my stove behind (which, since it’s a JetBoil, means leaving my pot behind) has complicated our cooking routine, as we have to avoid contaminating one of the pots with gluten. But this has been successful so far, and has taught me to bring a pot next time. Bill made the mushrooms that had been picked, and Indian food, while I had the dehydrated kielbasa and amaranth in fire roasted tomatoes that I had previously dehydrated. And, of course, shared chocolate for dinner.

Cleanup followed, and I opted for anti-social but warm, so am now in my tent, avoiding the mosquitoes.

Aug
16

This trip report, or at leas this portion of this trip report, is brought to you from the middle of a meadow field filled with wildflowers, fed my a meandering creek. (Which, I might add, is giving life to the mosquitoes buzzing around me, but no one else.)

It was a very long night – filled with sleep and only two pee breaks. A leisurely breakfast ensued, taking care of various packing and checking on a leaking ThermaRest. But two hours later, we were on the chilly trail, with overcast, puffy clouds occasionally letting the sun filter through.

Bikers, of all Kinds, at the Top of Horse Head Pass

We went up over Horse Head pass, meeting a few motorcyclists at the top. It was definitely a slog to get there, but not a terribly long one. As we chatted with the motorcyclists, two mountain bikers came to join us and took a short break as well, and we watched as they and the motorcyclists took off.

Posing Marmot

Posing Marmot

And so we headed down towards Boiling Lake, down the other side of the pass, with yet more zigzagging. A few turns later, we had a powwow to figure out what path we were going to be taking towards Angel’s Staircase, either around the lake in a longer, more level path, or a reopened sheep’s trail over another saddle. All along that section of decent towards Boiling Lake there were a bevy of
marmots, some looking for food and checking us out, and others mating.

A Rare Picnic Table

A Rare Picnic Table

After finding the path to the saddle, we found a fabulous horse camp, complete with extremely wobbly picnic table, and had a leisurely lunch with the sun breaking through just as we finished. (The sun was not to last long.). That particular ascent up the sheep path was definitely a steady climb, mostly right up the hill, but the saddle we were heading towards was visible the whole way.

Gorgeous Meadows Deserve a Admiration Pause

Gorgeous Meadows Deserve a Admiration Pause

Babbling Brook in a Field of Wildflowers

Babbling Brook in a Field of Wildflowers

We found the gorgeous meadows on the other side of the saddle, fields of flowers just before the minor path met back up with the major ones. A babbling brook, which really looks and sounds just like a babbling brook should, comes though much of this meadow. Another bevy of marmots was wandering through this field, some posing, some galloping through the field.

A Break on the Meadow

A Break on the Meadow

We had another powwow about where to camp, with many options available to us, and the majority of the group wanting to camp on the meadow overlooking the North Cascades. The water, and the possibility of climbing Martins Peak, seemed to settle this issue. Of course, the inertia of already being on the ground helped. There has been enough inertia at this point that the peak isn’t going to happen, and instead we’re setting up tents, in case of weather. Thus ends the 3:20pm update, frozen fingers causing significant typos.

Aug
15
Warm in my Sleeping Bag

Warm in my Sleeping Bag

Tonight, I come to you from inside my down bag (ohgoditssowarmandcozy), approximately 10 feet from Upper Eagle Lake.

It was an early star this morning, after a late night last night finishing packing and cleaning the house. 6:40am had me arriving a little bit late to the park and ride where Bill, Sue, Steve, and Jeanne all piled their stuff in the back of the Outback, and themselves into the seats. I forget how much other stuff people bring, but every thing fit just fine.

It’s a nearly four hour drive to the trail head, and we stopped at Pioneer for coffee/tea in Cle Elum, and Anjou Bakery just east of Wenatchee (or north, I wasn’t navigating, just driving).

The usual trail head preparation ensued, sharing tent portions, and finalizing everything. I got to leave my stove and second water filter behind, as it was covered by the other folks (2 stoves and 3 water filters were deemed enough).

Customary Trail Head Shot

Customary Trail Head Shot

The trail was a long, long (ok, 6 miles) of steady, but not too steep, elevation gain. We took it nice and slow, Jeanne preferring a leisurely pace, and I enjoy that as well. The weather was great – a touch cool, and overcast – letting us feel quite comfortable.

Mule Caravan

Mule Caravan

The trail in is open to horses, and we came across a pack line of mules, all loaded down with gear, the driver promising a train of horses carrying boy scouts. While we ran in to a few more horses, mostly heading out from Martin Lake. We also had two motorcyclists pass us while we stopped for a snack and some snack tending. And, I can’t not mention, a guy who had completed his 11th of the 100 highest peaks in Washington. But it was mostly a fairly empty trail.

We stopped at a ridge above a lake, got a little map and compass lesson from Steve, our resident guide, and determined we were above Lower Eagle Lake and looking at two peaks, 48something and 48somethingelse).

Campsite Meadow at Upper Eagle Lake

Campsite Meadow at Upper Eagle Lake

Another mile got us to Upper Eagle Lake, and our camp way out at the end of the trail spur. We are at a beautiful spot immediately off the lake, with a fire pit, though we are too lazy to tend to a real fire, and two lovely camp tent spots. Us three girls have taken over my three-woman tent.

We had a leisurely dinner, provided by Jeanne. (Of course, difficult person that I am, I have all my own gluten free food. Tonight was chicken soup and a chocolate pudding that was just freezer bag cooked, so was more like really thick hot chocolate, but still really good.

A Chilly Dinner in a Lovely Spot

A Chilly Dinner in a Lovely Spot

Dinner was a fairly chilly event, as the warmth left along with the sun. Jeanne and I took the lead in heading to bed, so after the bear bags were hung (or appropriately tied up, in the case of my Rrsack), we all made our way into our sleeping bags. ( But not before Sue found the elusive, marked, but hidden “toilet”!)

And so I lay here in my sleeping bag, listening to the gurgling of the lake on the rocks which make up its shore, and the wind overhead. (Hoping that I will be sufficiently warm in the night, and wishing that the body’s response to being cold was not making you pee – three times in the middle of the chilly night.)

Aug
14

While everyone I know has been very supportive of my participation in Hike-a-thon, you can bet that most people ask: “Why?”  Of course, with insufficient time to condition before August, I had to ask myself the same question.

The biggest reason: I love to hike, and this is a commitment to do it, over all the other little things that might otherwise keep me from hitting the trail.  Not a noble reason, or an altruistic reason, but it’s the commitment to the WTA and to my sponsors to complete hike-a-thon that can be that ‘push’ that helps get me out there.

Of course, I’m quite happy to support the WTA and use Hike-a-thon as a way to spread the word about the WTA, and what they offer and what they do.  I’ve practiced my three sentence speech on “what is the WTA?” a number of times now, and it just keeps getting easier.  Hopefully, one day, I won’t have to give it. 😉

Category: Hike-a-thon  Tags:  One Comment
Aug
11

I had planned to take Neo up to West Tiger 3 today, via the shorter route.  But the intersection of Nook and Section Line appears to have changed, and the summit went unvisited by the two of us.  Instead, we got a little bit of elevation climb on both directions, and Neo got a lot of time off leash, pressed in by the brush on either side of us, and doing his job of scouting.  The cool, damp weather kept us both happy as well.

Trails like this are nice, because we had the space to ourselves and the room to practice some training (‘drops’, a recall or two, and going in and out of a controlled walk).  He did great.  He even pulled over and let me hook him up again when an unleashed dog came past.

And the tired, one day from one year old, puppy slept most of the rest of the day.

Unfortunately, this was my only mid-week hike, as there’s a backpacking trip over the weekend to prepare for!