Goat Peak Lookout

Not to be confused with Goat Peak which is by Chinook Pass, or Goat Lake on the Mountain Loop Hwy - the Goat Peak Lookout in Mazama (next to Goat Wall and Goat Creek) is an amazing landmark that up until yesterday had been lost to me within the goat named matrix of Washington destinations. 

It's always such a privilege to be invited along on a hike that you didn't have to plan, and so it was an easy "yes" to join the group of three other hiking enthusiasts (crazies) to venture over into Eastern Washington in search of sun...even if it meant setting my alarm on a Saturday for 5:30 am. 

 I did do a little reading before we left on this hike that I'd never heard of. One thing was clear - we should NOT expect to see a goat. Legend has it that they were all "slaughtered" in the 1920's, which of course became a hot topic of discussion (mostly dark humor, which I was thankful all of us shared an appreciation for) as we labored up the 2.5 miles to the 7,001 foot summit.

 The view at the top was worth all the effort, though not getting to go up into the lookout itself was a bit disappointing. (Maybe when it's actually manned?...Which sounds like still happens occasionally during fire season.) 

As much as the sweeping views of mountain peaks in all directions took up much camera time, the most photographed feature of the day turned out to be the outhouse on top. We contemplated posing for a shot inside - but considering the whole structure felt a sneeze away from going over the edge, we thought better of it. Dying on a plummeting toilet seat would be great fodder for some dark humor...but a bit too high a price to pay for a laugh, I'm afraid. (And speaking of outhouses, the one at the trailhead is quite exceptional, IMO. I'd highly recommend using it, and avoiding this thing ;))

There's only one ending to a day spent in Mazama (named after a type of goat, of course) and that is at the "town's" famous store. We couldn't help loading up with purchases of various items stamped with their classic goat trademark that celebrates the animal we never did see. Oh, and if the Taco Bahia truck is parked in the courtyard, don't miss out on the amazing fish taco's! Happy trails!!

Lake Ingalls Solitude

We had the lake completely to ourselves. If you are a hiker in Washington and have heard of Lake Ingalls, then you know what a shocking statement that is. Luck was on our side for sure, and in more ways than one. 

I had grand plans for this last trip before I had to return to work after the long Covid lock down. Why not go for something "big" and take advantage of being able to go midweek?  If I was going to tackle Lake Ingalls, then it made sense to hook it up with the end of Ingalls Creek (which I was unable to finish last time) and throw Long's Pass in there as well. A three for one loop sounded perfect. 

With my two girlfriends in tow, we made the turn onto Ingalls Way from the Esmeralda Basin Trail. I was excited to revisit this area, as it was where I did my very first solo backpack a decade prior. https://kellbell-whywouldanyonereadthis.blogspot.com/2011/09/my-first-two-nighter-alone-even.html

 

But right away everything felt different (amazing how 10 years can alter a place) and by the time we reached the sign directing you to Ingalls and away from Longs Pass, I realized I had things backwards in my head. The trail reports I had looked at took you up to Longs Pass and around counter clockwise, not clockwise as I imagined in my head. Though disappointed that we weren't going to see the amazing view I remembered of Mount Stuart at the top of the Longs Pass, I was thankful to clear the confusion in my mind.

 

My clear mind didn't last long, because within a mile from the left turn, the trail completely disappeared in the snow. Snow was expected, though this was much sooner than I anticipated. We were lucky there was one person ahead of us...though his declaration of "I don't know if I'm going the right way" was not a confidence booster.

Probably foolishly, we followed anyway, and thankfully the next thing we heard was, "I see the trail." And so it went for the next mile - a constant, stressful, "is this the trail?" search over many snow patches. Lady luck smiled again as Leigh opened her Garmin App in frustration (even though she had cancelled her subscription to her "In Reach") and found it actually still worked! 

[caption id="attachment_473" align="alignnone" width="1024"] Headlight Basin. A much steeper decline than it looks here![/caption]

It was a comfort to see we were indeed actually on the trail, until we reached Ingalls Pass to see the arrow point us over the edge into a vast expanse of snow. Getting down into Headlight Basin looked terrifying (where the camping spots are found) not to mention the sudden frigid temperature change that promised a miserable night. We could see the footprints to the left, skirting the basin and leading to the lake by way of a higher ridge line, but knowing that camping at the lake was not allowed, we were in a definite pickle. 

With another stroke of luck, we backtracked a little and found a perfect stealth spot - BARELY big enough for our three person tent. The rock face behind us gave some protection from the wind, and so we hunkered down for what we presumed would be a miserable evening. 

Except it wasn't. The wind died down, the stars came out, and we all felt quite cozy in our little cliff-side nest. Far from miserable - it was actually amazing. 

Not wanting to push lady luck too far, we ditched the loop idea in the morning, and did the mile and half to the lake without our big packs. Along the way, Mount Stuart was a constant presence, so any disappointment about not seeing him at Longs Pass completely disappeared. And leaving our heavy packs behind was such a good call, as Leigh slipped twice (even with her micro spikes on)...though thankfully she didn't end up sliding down too far. Melissa hopped across all the snow like a little bunny - with nothing but trail runners, gaiters, and poles - while I slogged along like a terrified oaf in my crampons. Different strokes for different folks, but we all made it to the lake and back to our tent safely. 

[video width="1920" height="1080" mp4="http://slowesthiker.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/20200618_111507.mp4"][/video]

From there you'd think it would be easy to just head back down the way we came.  And though we did find it easier...it was most definitely not easy. I can't emphasize enough how quickly you can lose a trail when it is partially covered in snow. So please, don't count on lady luck to get you to Lake Ingalls - come prepared - or wait until July... and then be prepared for the crowds.  Happy Trails!!

AND DON'T FORGET TO CHECK OUT MY BOOK ON AMAZON! LINK ON MAIN PAGE!!!

 

Mount Townsend Escapism

 

 "I can't believe the news today. Oh I can't close my eyes and make it go away." Of course, these U2 lyrics weren't written about the recent news, but the sorrow still rings true. And even though I can't make it go away, sometimes I do want to "close my eyes" by running away to be alone and surrounded by stillness - even if it's just for one night.

I had been eyeing Mount Townsend for a couple years. June is not a month with many options for escaping into the mountains (without an ice ax at least) so I was sort of saving it for the "perfect" time. With a weather forecast of party cloudy, and a world forecast that felt like doomsday, it seemed the right moment to cash in on Mount Townsend. 

The trail reports warned that this is a place to be avoided at all costs on weekends or holidays, so in addition to the other "perfect" conditions, I knew I needed to take advantage of what could be my only opportunity to go on a weekday. Feeling pleased to find just a few cars when I pulled into the parking lot after what felt like driving forever (the forest road alone will take you 45 minutes) I was not feeling so pleased to find that "party cloudy" was in fact "one giant all encompassing" cloud. Being this hike is ALL about the view at the top, I was sad to realize I had cashed in my one shot at Mount Townsend at the wrong time - but I was still happy to be alone and determined to make the most of it. 

 

With 3,000 feet of elevation in four miles, I was considering stopping at Windy Camp a mile short of the top...it's not like I'd be able to see anything anyway. Except I never found it. (I have since read you need to go left where a little sign is directing you to go right to follow the trail. I kind of figured that must be where it was at, but at this time, it is very obscured by snow.) Until the switchbacks stopped, I didn't even realize I had made it to the top, such was the state of the complete white out. I had read there were places you could put a tent on the ridge, but I could barely see 20 feet in front of me; so as soon as I spotted a do-able spot right next to the trail, I set camp. 

As I ate my dinner looking into the white, I hoped maybe I would wake up to something different. And though I couldn't savor beauty, I could savor the silence - which was eerily saturating. After hitting my sleeping bag early to get out of the cold, I decided I'd better pee one last time before I fell asleep. (If you are considering doing this as an overnight trip, be warned there is NO PRIVACY whatsoever. Thank God I was alone, because my butt would be out for all to see. Also, be aware you need to haul all your water up as well.) 

Tears came as soon as I unzipped my tent. Pictures can never capture what it feels like to be surrounded with such overwhelming beauty. It felt like I had hit the jackpot.

The four miles down the mountain took a third less time (three hours up, two down, for a total of eight miles) and today I have a body that hurts as much as my heart. It feels right and good, and I am incredibly grateful to Mount Townsend for all it gave me.