Dead Horse State Park

Well, we made the long drive back down to Norwood in time for school to get going once again. Time for the summer tan and the days of spending time with wife and baby to diminish to instead spend the time drilling mathematics into the minds of those who would rather talk about the Hangover. But we were lucky enough to have my mom and Carl come down to visit us during that first week. They were able to hang out with Jacqueline and Zyla during the day and then me in the evening. We got the fine idea to take a trip to Moab on the weekend. Carl wanted to go check out Dead Horse State Park. They drove their trailer out to our house and this would cut off part of their drive. It was a 2-3 hour drive for us, which was not much of a big deal after the long trip we had just been through. Mom and Carl left early, but they only beat us by just a bit. Once we had settled into our campsite, we decided to go for a walk. Carl drove out to Dead Horse Point, while Mom, Jacqueline, Zyla and I decided to take the trail that would take us past Shafer Overlook and Meander Overlook. The trail took off right from the campground which made it easy. The trail bounced back and forth from viewpoints, to desert, to slickrock. It was not too bad of a trail being mostly flat since it was on the edge of a huge abyss. We skipped over going out to Big Horn Overlook because the ladies were not feeling it. Zyla was doing great and was awake for much of the hike looking around. She was really fitting into the Bjorn a lot better now so that she could look around and drool all over it. The best view of the whole hike was Meander Overlook where we could see the Colorado down below taking a big trip around a butte with a nice fin of rock on top of it. We continued the rest of the hike which took us out to the point. The view there was awesome with cliffs and you could see the entire La Sal Range. We hung out there for a bit, but honestly it was rather windy out there and we headed back to camp. We had some good food and played some games together. Mainly we looked at the cute baby and enjoyed the time together. Once the sun was getting ready to go down, we decided to drive to the point and see the sunset. Unfortunately, Jacqueline and Zyla were not able to go with us because it was getting too close to the little ones bedtime. This was going to be a brand new experience for Zyla as it was the first time camping out. We figured this would be a good place because the temperature would be warm at night. We decided to put her in her changing box with pillows around it in the front seat of the Xterra and see how it goes. The sunset by the way was great. It was almost like we got there a little late because it was tough to get a good picture. We left there and Mom and I walked back to hang out with Jacqueline. Carl went to the interpretive program which was less then exciting. We slept great that night and Zyla did better than even at home. It left us with promise that we would have a hiker/camper/backpacker on our hands. We ate breakfast with everyone, then went our seperate ways preparing for the long school year ahead in Norwood.

Zyla's First Mountain

We were feeling a bit tired and the goal of going for a good hike did not come to fruition. Instead we chose a casual drive up to Deer Park, which was right up the road that my dad lived on. I wanted to take a drive up there for a while and it was the first time I had been up there since my cousin Ian and I camped up there when I moved back to Washington state in 2000. I remembered the drive as being narrow and scary. I remembered correctly as Jacqueline was a bit nervous of us driving the Subaru up there. We made it fine and it was a beautiful day. The afternoon clouds were slowly lifting and we were able to enjoy the view. We drove all the way up to the Blue Mountain trailhead. We went on a short 1/2 mile walk that took us to the top of the mountain. It was Zyla's first mountain ascent so I made sure to let her stand on the summit even if she was held tightly in the Baby Bjorn. The hike was short but packed a lot of vistas in a short walk. We even got a bonus with some jeweled dew collected on the plants that were near the mountain top. A good survival weapon in the summertime when Washington does actually dry out quite a bit. I wished we had gotten up the energy to do a descently long hike on this day, but as a consolation prize, it was still nice to take the easy way out and get the benefits without the cause for too hard of work.

Hole in the Wall

Back in Port Angeles, we took a day to relax and play some pickleball, then it was out again the next day. We drove the hour and a half out to Rialto Beach to take Zyla to the Pacific Ocean. Dad came with us and got to deal with all the fun of having a little baby. As soon as we got there, Jacqueline had to feed Zyla so we went out to the beach. This was not one of the nicer days in Washington, but we were going to make due. It was in the mid-60s and a little bit breezy. We walked some driftwood logs to get that out of our system since I wouldn't be doing it with the baby. We got the ladies when they were done feeding and once again I got to carry the little one. I enjoyed doing this, though, it was definitely more of a workout then normal. She seemed pretty happy in her Bjorn and we were off to hike down the beach. We had no itinerary, but knew that Hole in the Wall was only a mile and a half away. This was a new experience for Jacqueline also as she had never been to a Northwest beach as far as I knew. I always think back to the Henry Weinhard's commercial where a bunch of guys are sitting by a big driftwood log. They see a lady walking far away very bundled up. They throw a beach ball her way as the wind takes it for a ride. Then the announcer says, "Nothing like a Northwest beach to keep the Henry's cold." It is a perfect example of what it was like. We had fun walking around near the driftwood, through the sand, avoiding the waves and sometime getting hit by them when my oblivious wife was not paying attention and I would run into her. There was quite a large number of people out from various different recreation interests. There were campers, backpackers, casual hikers like us, and people who looked like they had not hiked in many years. It was cool for Jacqueline to see all the durable rock that stood out in the ocean waters. I am still impressed that years of the waves pounding on these rocks still have not taken them down. Well we made it to Hole in the Wall. We could not go farther because the tide was in making it only possible to go farther if we went up and around. That was not going to happen with the little baby attached to me. The way back was much cooler. We were now walking into the wind and it seemed the temperature dropped about ten degrees. Jacqueline forgot to bring much of Zyla's gear with us, so she was hungry and probably in need of a diaper change. By the end of the hike back she got fussy which made her parents concern. But back in the warm car and a good feeding put her in a better mood for the long ride home. We were happy that we got to bring Zyla to the Pacific Ocean even if it was a little bit too cold for her to take a dip in the water on this day. There would be plenty of time for her in the future, though.

Over and Out - Day Five and Six

As we awoke, it was time to leave Marmot Lake. It had been a great camping site with many beautiful views from our awesome campsite. We got a good early start and for the morning it was all downhill. The route was taking us down the Duckabush to where we would hit a trail junction at the Upper Duckabush camp. Along the way, we kept running into the same couple from Seattle. They were hiking faster than us, so first they passed us and then we ran into them at a stream crossing. We had to ford the river and almost went in when there was a hole we did not know was there. Along the way we saw some nice waterfalls pouring into the Duck giving it its large amount of flow that would quickly pour into Hood Canal. That was the unfortunate and well I guess fortunate part too about the Olympics is that a lot of that fresh water was just dumped almost immediately back into the larger bodies of water whether it be the Pacific, the Strait, or Hood Canal. Oh well, we got to enjoy it from where we were. We hit the cut-off for the Upper Duckabush camp where we ran into that couple again and wished them a good rest of their trip. From here it was uphill for to First Divide. It was our last uphill of the trip and near the top, I have to admit I threw on the iPod for a little extra motivation. Dad and I had not been chatting much on the uphill anyway, so this gave me an opportunity to not think about how tiring it was. It worked well as the pass came quickly. We took lunch up there and talked to another group. They had been out even longer than we had, but seemed to be taking their sweet time. It was now all downhill from here. We enjoyed our mountain views for the last time as we knew from here on out, we would just have big trees to look at. The flowers were out here in the alpine environment and I was surprised at how many I could remember. Not nearly as many as Dad of course, because he was an expert in a way that I did not have the discipline to become. That is why it is nice that I chose hiking partners like him and Jacqueline, who can get into that stuff so they can continue to educate me. We were now following the Skokomish River out and it must not have been too impressive to us because there are no pictures of it. On day 5, we just followed it to Nine Stream. O'neil's party had been very creative naming creeks with numbers. Below us was Seven Stream and Six Ridge. The big event at camp this night was to finish out the cribbage tourney. It went down to the last game and we ended up in a tie. We could not leave it that way, so we had a best of three playoff. I was skunked first game, thus ending it right there. That was frustrating. I went down to the river to throw rocks at things for a while to get out my frustration. I also finished my book on this night. I did not entirely finish it, but 700 pages of 6 point font on the Penal system in Australia had finally taken its toll. The next morning we finished out the hike. It was a little drizzly in parts, but nothing bad. I had hiked the trail when I went up to Six Ridge eight years ago, so this was not entirely new. It did not look too familiar, though, as I remember crossing the bridge, but not much more. We were out before 11am and I was relieved to not have the backpack on my back for a while. All in all it was a very successful trip. We did not do as many sidetrips as I had hoped or see as many wild animals, but the flowers, mountains, and streams were incredible. Also the companionship was great as it is so nice for my dad and I to have a common interest like backpacking where we can get out and truly enjoy the world together. Back at Dad's home waiting for me was my beautiful wife, lovely daughter, and many games of pickleball to played.

Marmot Lake

Gettin' going has its perks as we caught a bear on its breakfast run as we were on the trail up to O'neil Pass. He was not a big bear and also did not look much like a scary bear as we crossed the trail below him. Today the trail was full of patchy snow with still beautiful views to be had. It would take us over across one high drainage and then another all the time hitting the patchy snow in the middle. We had talked about taking the short cut route into Lake Lacrosse that would bring us over to Marmot Lake, but with the snow as plentiful as it was, I would imagine that it would not be a short cut. So we followed the trail and ran into a group below the pass. They told us that there was plentiful snow on the other side of the pass also. We hit O'neil Pass at lunch time and ran into the exact same group that we saw at Lacrosse Pass. We took their picture up there and I swear we asked them to take ours, but their seems to be no record of that picture remaining. So we found ourselves a dry spot and ate some lunch. Those bagel sandwiches were tasting real good at this point in the trip as the packs started to get lighter, but our reserves started to deplete also. From the pass it was a short drop into Marmot Lake where we freed ourselves from the snow. We were the first ones there, so had our pick of the campsites. We both were a little bit choosy, but finally decided on one with an excellent view. We set up the tent, relaxed for a bit, and then took our one and only side trip hike of the trip. There were two lakes above Marmot Lake and I was bound and determined to see both. It was so much easier hiking without those heavy packs on that going uphill really did not seem like as much work. At the junction, Dad decided to go to Hart Lake and I would go to Lake Lacrosse, but meet him at Hart Lake. I tried to hike as fast as I could so that he did not have to wait long. The trail was intermittently hidden by snow, but I picked the best route I could because I could see the lake from far away. When I got there, I could not cross over to the lake because of the large stream in the way. So I went to one side and called it good. I could see the pack of the Irish guy that we kept running into. He said that he was going to camp up there. I hustled down the trail to Hart Lake. It was a longer hike then I was expecting as the trail took us up around the sides of the cliffs. When I got there, I saw the lake was much like Lake Lacrosse, more ice and snow then actual water showing. Dad was sitting high on a knoll overlooking the lake. I went up to meet him, threw some rocks in the lake and called it good. We hiked back down to camp where I summoned up the energy to take a dip in the icy lake. When you have four days of nastiness growing all over you, a dip in the lake, no matter how cold it is, was a pretty good option. I waded out and did get underwater. I attempted to make it out to the little island, but I lost the courage once the water went over my head. I did not want to get too chilly. Of course, as soon as I got out of the lake the big thunderstorm clouds started to roll in. We had been blessed with some good weather on this trip, but knew this storm was coming. We could see lightning striking the tall peaks around us and the big gray rain clouds pouring on opposite summits like Mt. Duckabush. Finally the storm hit us and we dove into the tiny tent. Dad has had the same tent for 20 years and it did not take long for the condensation to build up. I suggest he buys a new one because Jacqueline and I were in Tasmania with the rain just ripping down and we did not know it until we got out in the morning. The rain stayed for about 15 minutes and then we continued to watch the clouds and lightning. We enjoyed the evening with our excellent view. Ranger Cliff showed back up who we met at Honeymoon Meadows. He was a good guy with an excellent job. We talked with a couple of other groups who were also backpacking and were camping near us. But mostly we just did the normal of playing some cribbage and reading our books. The cribbage match was very close and was set up for a showdown for all the marbles the following night. Until then we had just one more day in the high Olympics and we enjoyed the evening.

Above Enchanted Valley - Day 3

We got another early start and were gone from our site before the Rangers were up. Our goal today was to take it easy. After talking to the park service folks, we learned that there was a good campsite along White Creek. We were pretty interested in occupying that. Until then, the hike took us uphill once again to our second pass of the trip, Anderson Pass. Both Dad and I had been to Anderson Pass before. Actually Dad had been on every trail in the Olympics so it was more like revisiting his old haunts rather than something entirely new. I was getting excited though, because it was bringing back a bunch of fond memories for me of my November trip into Enchanted Valley way back in 2001. My friend Larson and I had made it all the way to Anderson Pass, battling snowy conditions on a nice November day. On this day we were approaching it from the other side, going up the Dose until we hit the headwaters of the Quinault. We passed a ranger cabin along the way, ran into some other hikers, and saw the first bear of the trip. I was the only one who saw him as he quickly hopped behind a bush after I spotted him. We lost the people here as they stayed to try to track him down again. We topped out at the pass and began our descent down the Quinault. I kept trying to spot the trail on the south side of the cliffs. I remembered pieces of the trail we were now on, but most of it looked different nine years later without snow on it. The views were awesome as we could see down into Enchanted Valley and could see all the peaks rising up above the valley. One of these included West Peak, where my dad broke his neck back in 1980 when his climbing partner whom he was roped to fell and pulled him off the mountain. There were others also with Mt. Anderson highlighting some gorgeous massifs. Chimney peak was a local favorite with its almost reddish appearance. It just showed that we had to come back some time when we did not have to make such a rushed trip out of it. Eventually we hit the trail junction that would take us up toward O'neil Pass. White Creek was a short uphill climb from here, but we were unfortunately dismayed to find out when we got there that there was but two campsites and they were both occupied by most likely the same group. It was still only 11:30am, though, so it was not like we were burning daylight to find a campsite. Dad just wanted to have a day to recharge and the longer that we drug that out, the less chance that that would actually happen. So we sat down and ate some lunch while we looked at the map. It did not seem like there was going to be much opportunity on the trail ahead as it slowly climbed on one side of the mountainside. I was a little bummed because from White Creek, there seemed to be quite a bit of exploring opportunity if we continued to follow the creek upstream. Where we would end up would probably not have much hope for side trips. We continued hiking and after less than an hour, we found ourselves a little nook off the trail behind some big trees with a large flat space between two snowfields with an ample water source. All this added up to a good campsite where we could chill out and enjoy the rest of the day. We had still put in six miles and gained 2200 feet in elevation. We played some cards, listened to some podcasts, but mostly spent a lot of time reading our books. I was sucked in to the life of a 19th century prisoner in Van Diemen's Land living in Macquerie Harbor. Let me tell you, I am glad that I was not born in England in the late 18th, early 19th century and then shipped to Australia because from all the stories of the penal colony, it was not much fun. I could have picked something more upbeat like Neanderthals, but I am a nonfiction kind of guy. In the evening, the light got very good and we were able to snap some great photos looking back toward Mt. Anderson. The people who were camping at White Creek wandered by also, I believe completely oblivious to our presence on the other side of the trail. We had a good evening and I think we were able to get recharged for the next day.

Over to the Dose - Day 2

We awoke a little before 7 and were on the trail before eight. Today would involve the continuation of following the Duckabush over to the junction, then going up 4000 feet in elevation, then going down until we hit the Dosewallips at Honeymoon Meadows after 13 miles of hiking. It was a slow climb up the Duck through the forest occasionally getting good views of the river as it plunged through some narrow canyons including some small cataracts. Dad was betting on getting by with his one water bottle on the trip, but he ran into trouble as we were approaching the junction with Lacrosse Pass trail. We ran out of streams even in the Olympics during summer. So once we hit the junction, Dad had to keep going on the hike and get some water. I just chilled out and waited for the climb. I was feeling pretty good today despite the soreness in my clavicles from the heavy backpack. The climb was steep with a plethora of switchbacks. Dad's plan to attack it was to keep track of elevation and take a break every 500 feet. That seemed to go well with both of us happy to take some breaks. It was a good idea to get some water, because it was rather dry. We had a little bit of wet near the bottom, but the rest was just a forest of fir. We climbed and climbed and eventually popped out above the big trees and got an impressive view. We could see Mt. Steel and O'Neil Peak. We also could see First Divide which would be the last pass to go over. But at 2:30pm, we still had not made it to the top of Lacrosse Pass. We saw a group of people right near the top of the Pass. We talked to them about the trail and snow conditions. They were only the second group we saw all day. We saw another guy near the junction and he seemed like he had his stuff together. This group seemed strong being about six people all doing fairly well. A little before 3pm we found our way to the top of the pass . It was nice for both of us to chill out and relax for a bit. I threw on the sunglasses because there sure was a lot of snow. We even pulled out the ice axes. The crampons stayed in the pack as the snow was nice and soft. We had thought about climbing one of the peaks when we were sitting in the comfort of my dad's home in Port Angeles. Once we were up at the pass, we looked over to White Mountain and said, yeah right. The snow conditions were not great, but it was more the shear work of going to the top of a peak after we had put in the effort to get to the top of the pass. Luckily we had some footprints to follow off the pass and make our way down. We still had a good 4-5 miles to travel down the hill to get to our destination. When we were above the thick trees, we were dealing with snow and I would say that the ice axes were actually helpful. Once we got back in the thick trees, the snow melted away and we could just pound our way down the hill. As we were getting close to pulling into camp around 5pm, we ran into a river with no bridge. So we had to take off the shoes and throw on the sandles. As we crossed, we realized that we were now at the campsite near Honeymoon Meadows. We took a look around and realized that we were going to be camping near some park service people. Dad knew one of them and we talked to them a bunch. They shared some info on the routes that we were going on since they both went different ways, but had good info. Mainly it was that up high we were going to get some snow. We settled in for the evening and actually had a few bugs on this night. It did not bother us as we got some cribbage in and played some golf too. We could now relax and enjoy the fruits of our labor; a nice comfortable campsite in a beautiful place. Of course there was work to do like making dinner and pumping water, but it was nice to do it without a heavy pack on the back.

Up the Duck - Day 1

I was completely stoked for the outdoor adventure of the summer. My dad and I had been planning a backpack for a couple of months. We were hoping to do the Bailey Range traverse, but snow conditions in Early August forced us to come up with another plan. We chose a five day trip starting up the Duckabush, over to Dosewallips, and then coming out in Staircase. It was an ambitious project that would take us 6 days over 60 miles. We first had to deal with the vehicles. We drove out to Staircase and left a car, then went over to the trailhead for the Duckabush. We started out the hike in the Brothers Wilderness. It would be about four miles before we got into Olympic National Park. Throwing on the backpack for the first time was like wooh, this thing is a lot heavier than a daypack. With food and gear for six days including ice axe and crampons for the snow, we were in for a heavy haul. On this day we had two minor obstacles, first the Little Hump, then the Big Hump. The hiking was good especially since it was like a giant fruit salad. Huckleberries, salmon berries, blackberries, thimbleberries, blueberries were all on the menu today. Also we would catch glimpses of the river that was flowing by at a swift pace. Since Dad was now at the ripe old age of 60, we took the hike at a more relaxed pace. We made sure to stop every hour and take a short break. I did not say it, but I was always relieved when these breaks came around because the pack was a lot lighter when it was sitting on the ground next to me rather than on my back. As far as the humps went, Little Hump was no big deal and we rolled right by it. We saw our only party actually hiking near the top. Big Hump was more work and was made more troublesome by the fact that I was a bit overdressed wearing long pants and a long sleeve shirt. I was sweating like crazy, but just had to go with it on this day by rolling up the shirt sleeves. The trail up until Big Hump looked like it was most likely an old road cut, but I could see why they could not continue their road as it ran into issues with the steep rock that we needed to climb to go up Big Hump. We made it, though and soon were entering the park. We passed the first campsite which was named Five Mile. You can guess why it was named that. From there, the forest showed the signs of forest fire. Dad soon remembered that last year the Duck was closed for some time because of forest fire, which we could tell since it looked pretty fresh. Our hike took us near the river, above the river, away from the river, and eventually back to the river where we wandered into our camp for the night Tenmile at about 5pm. Once again, take a wild guess why it was named that. We had climbed 1500 feet over 10 miles. When we rolled in there was another party camped there. They were a larger party with a few adults and a few kids and about four tents. We went over and talked to them initially. They were not particularly friendly, but we learned that this was their second day out already. I found us a campsite on the other side of the big, open wooded area behind a big dead log. We proceeded to get about camp business of getting dinner cooked, water pumped, and a nightly cribbage competition. As we were playing cribbage, someone from the group came over to let us know that they did not want to be unneighborly, but down the trail aways there were some good campsites with fire rings. Dad's response to that was to say that we do not need a fire ring. The guy was like okay, but we figured out later that they were trying to be unneighborly. It was odd because usually in the wilderness, people are so friendly, but we determined they must have had internal combustion within the group causing them to have problems with each other and thus deflecting those to try to get rid of us. It was silly, though, because the river was so loud in camp we could not hear them and I am sure they could not hear us. We relaxed for the evening as I read my novel about the prison system in colonial Australia. Heavy reading, while Dad chose a science fiction novel about Neanderthals. We settled into the tent for a good sleep preparing to get up and hike another ten miles the next day.