Lake Christine

The weather finally cleared from the downpour that had been pummelling Western Washington since I got there. I wanted to show Jacqueline Mt. Rainier, but because of the rains, the flood waters had closed the park. Thus my only choice was to go as near the park as I could. We were expecting to hang out with friends of ours who were up, Brad and Sharon, but since they had not called us, we took off on our own. With my mom's little Chevy Malibu, I was able to get us a considerable distance up the dirt road before deciding to park since we were hitting the snow line. We walked on from there assuming that it would not be long before we hit the trailhead. It was only about two miles on the road to the trailhead and then another couple miles or so up to the lake. So we really had our fun on the approach, throwing snowballs at each other and screwing around. It was fun to be around snow again as it really felt like winter was approaching. We walked up the road until it switched back up to the trailhead. Finally, we arrived at the trailhead and Jacqueline was happy to be wearing my mom's boots, which amazingly fit her well. We started up the trail which we were breaking the whole way. There were only a few inches of snow on the ground, but eventually it continued to grow until we were walking in nearly a foot of snow. It was not hard walking, though, as the trail was rather easy to find. We enjoyed a great view through the trees down into the valley below. Washington is such a fun state because you can be in winter in one area and look down below and there is fall. We continued hiking and before not too long, we were at the lake. We did not stay long because neither of us were in the mood to enjoy it. Jacqueline stayed a little while longer than me, but before too long we were ambling down the trail back to the road. The snow was coming down now and I was a bit worried about getting out on this road if we got into too much snow. But as we hit the snow line, it turned into just a drizzle. The only person that we ended up seeing was a state patrol out looking for hunters. He was pleasant especially since we were not carry any guns or deer carcass with us. We made it back to the car and I took it slowly down the windy dirt road, happy that we were able to enjoy our day.

Cape Alava

I helped my dad move out to the Olympic Peninsula near Port Angeles in Washington State during the first part of November. It was a long drive that took two days and included a flat tire on the freeway for me when I was driving my dad's truck. Once we had all of my dad's stuff moved in, we decided to go for a hike. We drove out past Neah Bay to Olympic National Park to do a hike out to Cape Alava. We figured that this would be a good hike considering it had been pouring down rain since we got to Washington. 

I figured it was a good thing to do to keep my mind off of missing Jacqueline who was currently in Michigan. The trail was wet, but not muddy, one of the perks of living in the state of Washington. A lot of the trail was planks and boardwalk because of the amount of water on this trail. My dad recalled his first backpacking trip, which was out here as a kid in the 1950s. It inspired a long list of trips through the backcountry of many states and countries. Today it was going to just be an easy roundtrip hike using the ocean coast as part of the trip.
Once we got to the ocean, the rain really was not letting up. We hiked up the beach a ways to look at the shelter they found in the 70s from the Makah, I believe. That was interesting and surprising that any sort of artifact could sustain with the weather in the Pacific Northwest. Well, we were definitely soaking wet and the tides were not cooperating with us much.
We had to decide whether we wanted to make it a long,wet, cold miserable day or just count our losses and head back the way that we came. We decided to head back the way that we came and let the ocean batter someone else with its waves on this day. Still, it was great being back in the lush green forests of the Pacific Northwest. The Washington coast is so original, with
many islands and interesting birds to gaze out upon.

What lies behind Bridge Mountain?

I was supposed to take a trip with Mark Nydell and camp up on the Southeast Slickrock area of Zion near Bridge Mountain. That did not work out. Mark had a job interview and had to bail on me. I decided to head out anyway and do it as a long day hike instead. I set out early and headed up Gifford Wash. It was a cool October day and Gifford usually has quite a bit of water in it. Attempting to keep my feet dry was going to be in vain unless I got out of the canyon earlier. 

I took a look at the slickrock that rose above me and thought that it would probably go. Bad idea and I knew it after not too long. Although beautiful views of such peaks as the East Temple were starting to open up to my eyes, the going was becoming ever so much more difficult. I was scrambling from ledge to ledge. At one place, I stood there for fifteen minutes kicking myself for getting into this kind of predicament. 

I had been out of Gifford Canyon before and thus knew that there was an easy way out. Oh well, I had to deal with it, so I got some momentum behind me and was able to pull myself up the nearly vertical face to a ledge that took me to the north around the peak I was on and then with a short scramble, to the top. The picture above is the East Temple from the top of the peak, a one of a kind view in the Park. I could also see my final destination, Bridge Mountain with the West Temple and the Towers of the Virgin behind it. 

From here, the way was still not easy. I had to go south, off the peak I was on and to the second canyon running east that would send me directly into Hepworth. I found the huge bowl that they were talking about. I had to do some interesting down climbing at places to get around obstacles. Soon, though, I was in the elusive Hepworth Canyon. I would estimate a dozen people at most each year get to see Hepworth Canyon. I was still off to explore, though. 

I walked down Hepworth to the back side of Bridge Mountain. There are three different options when looking at the gullies that come off of Bridge Mountain. I knew that the middle one took you into some fifth class climbing where a rope was needed. It was also the way out to see Bridge Mountain Arch. This is everyone's usual destination when coming to this point. I decided that I needed a partner to go out there, so I left that for another day. I did, however, scramble up the first gully I saw. It led me to some incredible views. I could see down onto the road that switchbacks up toward the tunnel above Pine Creek. I was able to get so many one of a kind pictures of Zion on a day like this. I had views of the cliffs that most people would never be
lucky enough to see. I went back down that gully and with still enough time, I decided to scramble around and see what the far gully had to offer. I was expecting to get cliffed out at some point. I didn't though. With just some third class scrambling, I was able to access the bowl right next to Bridge Mountain. The

views were incredible. I could see straight up Oak Creek, Springdale, Rockville, my house, the visitor center, etc... The whole main canyon area was right before me, just two thousand feet below me. I felt so lucky and I wanted to keep exploring. The top of Bridge Mountain seemed so close I could almost touch it. It was 4th class at best, so I knew that I would have to come back with a climbing partner if I wanted to attempt that. There was a canyon running west that basically met up with Hepworth. Looking at my watch and down into this spectacular, undisturbed, pristine country, I decided that this day required me to head back to the house at this point. I took one last picture of me with the Towers of the Virgin at my back and decided to head on down from there. This was a good idea, as I knew the going was not going to be easy. It went a lot faster knowing the way that I came. Soon I was back with the predicament of how to drop into Gifford Wash. With all the slickrock around me, who could tell. I ended up following a cairned trail, that dead ended. I picked my way down from there to a point where I had to make a decision. So I threw my pack on down, which happened to land in some water (sweet) and then managed to work my way down ending in a jump where I knew I could not get back up from where I came. Looking around the corner, it looked like I would not have to be a SAR victim on this day, thank goodness. I found my way into Gifford and from there it was a soggy walk home through the muddy quicksand of Gifford Wash. As a final side note, it was very fortunate that Mark backed out because the next day, the rains were torrential and it would have made for dangerous conditions in the area that I was scrambling around in Zion's pristine zone.