I hiked a lot. There were nice trees. The views were great. I had fun.
Peace out.
I know, I know. Some of these reviews look a lot like ones you’ve already read. Its hard to convey just how beautiful it is out here in the wild. But I’m trying.
The road in question is the road to the Cascade Pass trailhead. Like 21 miles’ worth of mostly gravel. Seemingly every couple of miles was some warning sign about the road itself, echoing the “Certain Death-1 (mile)” road sign in Monty Python and the Holy Grail. In addition to the gravel, the road had dozens of New Orleans-style, tire-busting potholes. But once you get there, there’s spectacular views of glaciers on the surrounding mountain peaks from just the parking lot.
Today was a bit cooler than the last couple of days, but equally as sunny. After the usual breakfast and morning puttering, I managed to make it to the trailhead around 12:30. Other than the fact that the road never stopped, it was a beautiful drive, going through a lot of moss-covered trees similar to Hoh, filtering sunlight on the road in an interesting way. The road crossed at least 10 mountain streams, flowing into the Cascade River below.
This trail had about three parts. The first was switchbacks through dense forest. The trail was narrower than previous trails, but the incline wasn’t quite as bad as yesterday. Yesterday was more climbing than hiking, today was the other way around. Switchbacks normally are unwelcome, as you generally are seeing the same sights, just from a different height. The alternative of course is going straight up, and that’s just not going to happen for me. These weren’t so bad, as you go further in each direction than average. Lots of stream crossings too, though not as difficult as yesterday. The switchbacks get you to a point actually above some of the surrounding glaciers. The second part is after you clear the forest, the trail flattens out, but goes over a big rock field. This has you walking over fist-sized rocks, making it hard to keep your footing. There’s no more trees, but there is some scrub cedar. This leads to the Cascade Pass, a 1,700’ elevation from the trailhead. The third part was the “Sahale Arm” of the trail, which goes just about straight up. That’s not exaggerating. Its about a 2,100’ elevation in a 2 mile distance over the same kinds of rocks, leaving me dying for breath at that elevation. But I made it to the peak, and could see the Sahale Glacier in the distance. Going down is worse than coming up, and I nearly wiped out three or four times. The whole hike took four hours. Naturally, I see people all along the trail about 150 years older than me appearing to have no trouble whatsoever, so it makes me wonder what my problem is getting up and down this mountain. I decide that the only way they can go that high is by taking three times longer than me to get there. I’m still working on an explanation why 10 year olds and people pushing strollers are finishing 5K and 10K runs before I do.
My mind tends to wander on these hikes. For example, in the open space where I can see the surrounding mountains, I have fleeting thoughts of myself as Captain Von Trapp in the Sound of Music, leading the family to safety from the Nazis at the end of the movie (if that just spoiled the ending for you, you really need to get up to catch up with the rest of us). Then I think that in reality I’d be more like that nimrod Friedrich, who tried to act real tough at first then ran into Maria’s room scared of the thunder (and then frolicked like a forest sprite in his nightgown during the ensuing number). I think a contrarian view of that movie is pretty compelling. Here Captain von Trapp had his house running very efficiently, without the usual kid racket, and was dating the totally hot and rich Baroness who didn't ask for any sort of long-term understanding, and then this butch proto-nun comes along, apparently just back from the Kerrville Folk Festival, and ruins it for everyone. Quiet days around the house replaced with yapping kids jumping up and down and breaking out in song every five seconds (and puppet shows). No more rich, hot Baroness. No one showing up to dinner on time. And having to replace all the damn drapes. Worse, the Captain, who had been harsh at the beginning, may as well be wearing a skirt by the end of the movie (although the part where he insults Rolf the Nazi-in-training when he takes his gun away was pretty cool). This guy commanded a warship in the Imperial Navy? Captain Crunch thinks that guy’s a loser. Then I snap out of it, generally after I trip over a tree root, which was happening pretty often near the end of the hike.
Peace out.
I know, I know. Some of these reviews look a lot like ones you’ve already read. Its hard to convey just how beautiful it is out here in the wild. But I’m trying.
The road in question is the road to the Cascade Pass trailhead. Like 21 miles’ worth of mostly gravel. Seemingly every couple of miles was some warning sign about the road itself, echoing the “Certain Death-1 (mile)” road sign in Monty Python and the Holy Grail. In addition to the gravel, the road had dozens of New Orleans-style, tire-busting potholes. But once you get there, there’s spectacular views of glaciers on the surrounding mountain peaks from just the parking lot.
Today was a bit cooler than the last couple of days, but equally as sunny. After the usual breakfast and morning puttering, I managed to make it to the trailhead around 12:30. Other than the fact that the road never stopped, it was a beautiful drive, going through a lot of moss-covered trees similar to Hoh, filtering sunlight on the road in an interesting way. The road crossed at least 10 mountain streams, flowing into the Cascade River below.
This trail had about three parts. The first was switchbacks through dense forest. The trail was narrower than previous trails, but the incline wasn’t quite as bad as yesterday. Yesterday was more climbing than hiking, today was the other way around. Switchbacks normally are unwelcome, as you generally are seeing the same sights, just from a different height. The alternative of course is going straight up, and that’s just not going to happen for me. These weren’t so bad, as you go further in each direction than average. Lots of stream crossings too, though not as difficult as yesterday. The switchbacks get you to a point actually above some of the surrounding glaciers. The second part is after you clear the forest, the trail flattens out, but goes over a big rock field. This has you walking over fist-sized rocks, making it hard to keep your footing. There’s no more trees, but there is some scrub cedar. This leads to the Cascade Pass, a 1,700’ elevation from the trailhead. The third part was the “Sahale Arm” of the trail, which goes just about straight up. That’s not exaggerating. Its about a 2,100’ elevation in a 2 mile distance over the same kinds of rocks, leaving me dying for breath at that elevation. But I made it to the peak, and could see the Sahale Glacier in the distance. Going down is worse than coming up, and I nearly wiped out three or four times. The whole hike took four hours. Naturally, I see people all along the trail about 150 years older than me appearing to have no trouble whatsoever, so it makes me wonder what my problem is getting up and down this mountain. I decide that the only way they can go that high is by taking three times longer than me to get there. I’m still working on an explanation why 10 year olds and people pushing strollers are finishing 5K and 10K runs before I do.
My mind tends to wander on these hikes. For example, in the open space where I can see the surrounding mountains, I have fleeting thoughts of myself as Captain Von Trapp in the Sound of Music, leading the family to safety from the Nazis at the end of the movie (if that just spoiled the ending for you, you really need to get up to catch up with the rest of us). Then I think that in reality I’d be more like that nimrod Friedrich, who tried to act real tough at first then ran into Maria’s room scared of the thunder (and then frolicked like a forest sprite in his nightgown during the ensuing number). I think a contrarian view of that movie is pretty compelling. Here Captain von Trapp had his house running very efficiently, without the usual kid racket, and was dating the totally hot and rich Baroness who didn't ask for any sort of long-term understanding, and then this butch proto-nun comes along, apparently just back from the Kerrville Folk Festival, and ruins it for everyone. Quiet days around the house replaced with yapping kids jumping up and down and breaking out in song every five seconds (and puppet shows). No more rich, hot Baroness. No one showing up to dinner on time. And having to replace all the damn drapes. Worse, the Captain, who had been harsh at the beginning, may as well be wearing a skirt by the end of the movie (although the part where he insults Rolf the Nazi-in-training when he takes his gun away was pretty cool). This guy commanded a warship in the Imperial Navy? Captain Crunch thinks that guy’s a loser. Then I snap out of it, generally after I trip over a tree root, which was happening pretty often near the end of the hike.
I need to add a bunch of photos to Flickr, but have run out of time. I'll try to get to it next week.
Tomorrow-going to Seattle.
Tomorrow-going to Seattle.
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