We Need a LIttle Help from Our Friends...and E-Bikes

 

Rain, rain and more rain. Such is life here in the Pacific Northwest in late fall. I'm trying not to be depressed - I'm telling myself to embrace the different seasons for what they are. It isn't working. 

I actually can't remember the last time I felt this low. I go into more depth about that on my spiritual blog, but that's not what we are talking about here. This is about hiking...the depression antidote. 

And also friends, the other depression antidote. I'm SO SO VERY fortunate to have friends who are ready to say "yes"...yes I understand your sadness, yes I want to hang out with you, yes I will brave the rain with you, yes I'll bring some booze and a cheese ball. 

Heidi is our hiking Martha Stewart

 

FYI : the San Juan ferries do not allow you to make your own mimosas in their galley UNLESS you buy THEIR booze. Also none of the five shops that rent bikes in Friday Harbor are open in November, even though Google will tell you they are. These were just a couple road bumps in the plan; nothin' much to worry about when you have friends who are ready to roll with the punches.  

Thankfully Suzie's Mopeds answers their phone - so even though they are not at the store, they will get there and hook you up. (Or you could avoid all this hassle by ordering online the day before so they know to be there.) Be aware you will find that most of their stuff has been retired for the season...except exactly three e-bikes. Hooray! We were back in business!

Because we walked onto the ferry (no car) we would not be getting to the planned Mount Finlayson hike without the help of Suzie. (Actually her name was Anna...SO nice! I highly recommend.) I'm also certain we would not have gotten there without the help of the magic "E" part of the e-bike either. If you thought I was a slow hiker, you should see me bike! Thank you throttle!

It's 8 miles to the Mount Finlayson trailhead, but we whizzed right by it because it is marked as Jakle's Lagoon. No worries; we wanted to see the Cattle Point Lighthouse anyway, which is downhill another mile. Then back up that big hill (again, thank you magic E) to start the 4 mile loop hike.

I'm so glad I bit the bullet and paid for AllTrails this year. I've been thankful to have it many times, and this was no exception. Not that this is a complicated or difficult trail - it just has a few intersecting paths that seem confusing...especially if you have indulged in some mimosas. 

It would have been nice to have more daylight to explore the island. I really wanted to revisit English Camp; but we will have to save that for another day. I know I have friends that will be ready and waiting. Happy "depression busting" trails (and friends!)

Sammy was glad I didn't forget him this time!

Pushing Our Luck on Ptarmigan Ridge

 

Sammy is mad at me. Second time in a row I forgot to take him. I left my thermos of hot chocolate on the counter as well; but more importantly, I forgot to put my headlamp in my day pack. "No worries," I thought, "there's no way I'll need it." Tempting fate is a bad habit of mine. 

Debbie and I were not getting an early start, so I really wasn't expecting to get too many miles in. Though this being another "must do" hike, I was hoping to see as much of Ptarmigan Ridge as possible. I got a small taste of it on my very first backpack on Chain Lakes Loop 14 years ago, so it holds some nostalgia for me. Spending the night at another climber's camp would be AMAZING, but I knew it wasn't in the cards. Today was just about spending some time with one of my very best friends, so if we needed to turn around before getting to the end, that was totally fine. 

Expecting to find a parking spot in the Artist Point lot at 11am is a foolhardy plan. We kept circling anyway. Then, seeing that there was actually plenty of space at the end of a row where the traffic cone had been set, my rule follower friend suggested that the cone could be moved over just a smidge. Being a "is it a rule, or a suggestion" type of person, I was all about it. Then I put my "expired in September" forest road parking pass up (don't yell at me - I'll buy another one soon) and we were off to see how far we could get. 

It's been YEARS since I hiked with Debbie. (Stories here, here. here, here, here, here, and here. We've had some good times.) Therefore, I had forgotten what a go-getter she is. Apparently she had forgotten too - because she confessed on the drive there she was worried she was going to hold me back...me being such a pro now and all. OH BROTHER! 

I may hike a lot, but I'm not good at it. I'm slow, I'm clumsy (proof is coming later in story) I'm direction-ally challenged and worst of all, I take risks I shouldn't. My only "skills" are I'm stupid enough to love the suffering and I can easily sacrifice hygiene. 

Can you see the Ptarmigan? He's right on trail!

Anyway, you guessed it, I could barely keep up with Debbie. She kept going, and going, and going. This trail is particularly addicting...so we both couldn't help to continually say "just a little further." I kept checking my AllTrails app - and dang, we were actually getting close to the end. But the thing is, the AllTrails end point is "The Portals East"...a place we had no business going to. This is from the Washington Trail Association:

"At 4.5 miles and 5970 feet is a plateau suitable for camping, and what maps show as the end of the trail. Beyond the plateau, a primitive boot trail continues up the rocky hill to East Peak (also known as The Portals East)...The up-close views are outstanding, but the path requires route-finding skills and possibly mountaineering experience (depending on snow conditions). Each hiker must decide where their stopping point is, before returning the way they came."

So close...and yet so far away

We had actually made it to the end; except the trail was still beckoning us up further. "We need to turn around," I scolded, "neither of us have headlamps and it's almost 3:30." 

"You're right," Debbie agreed, "but just look up there...it's like it's the top of the world." (Video) Seeing those stars in her eyes - how could I say no? We may not have had headlamps, but we did have micro spikes. And it's going to be much faster going back. When is it dark? Around 7pm? Okay...just a little further.

Heading up!

Of course, once you're on top of the world, you can see there is still another top of the world "just a little further." We got to it at 3:41. Except you know it; another top of the world was still in sight. But even though we may be stupid, we're not complete idiots...we knew it was time to turn around.

It's hard to see with the snow, but in the middle is an awesome camp site surrounded by rock...I knew we should have brought my tent! ;)

We would have made it back before dark just fine if not for my fall. I've fallen MANY times during my "pro" hiking career, but I think this one hurt the worst. The adrenaline rush caused me to feel a little nauseous, and then VERY dizzy. It took a good 10 minutes of laying there before I could get up. But luckily, I could get up - and most importantly, I could still hike reasonably fast. An injury would have been "a situation," as Debbie put it. 

It was sobering. You can only push your luck so far before it catches up to you. It really is time to break my tempting fate ways. I would really prefer to not ever have to deal with "a situation" - but I know I need to be better prepared to face one need be. 

As it was, luck was still on my side, and we got to the car JUST as darkness fell. (With no ticket!) For future hikes I promise to buy another headlamp that always stays in my day pack. Happy "prepared for when luck runs out" trails!

It's pretty dang dark at 7:20!

And to whoever made this cute little guy - thank you! He made our night :)

 

Hidden Lake Lookout at Last

Those four miles were some of the most stressful of my life. At the end I was shaking, sweating and cursing. And I hadn't even started hiking yet.

Yeah, I'm not talking about the four miles up to lookout, though they were hard as well. I'm talking about FS 1540. It wouldn't have been so bad if I didn't have a giant Hummer type vehicle with all it's bright as hell headlights blazing in my rear view while it drove up my ass the entire way up. I suppose I could have squeezed over in a spot or two to let him pass, but I was too afraid he'd get the last parking spot. So I drove WAY too fast instead...though still not fast enough for him, apparently. But we both made it up none the less, and even with a few parking spots left to spare. 

To avoid all this anxiety, you really should plan on getting to the Hidden Lake trailhead earlier than 9am. (And don't even bother if you don't have a moderately high clearance vehicle. That road is seriously bad.) This is one of the most popular hikes in the North Cascades - #9 in my "Classic Hikes in Washington" book that I mentioned last post. I was saving it all these years, contemplating trying to actually stay in the lookout. An overnight in a lookout is a big bucket list item for me, as it is for many hikers. Including Rachel Lakoduk. 

When she went missing over five years ago, I don't think I've ever been so emotional over someone's disappearance. It was all so overwhelmingly tragic. Therefore, Hidden Lake Trail got put on further hold as it felt like hollowed ground to me. But in case you didn't know, she was miraculously found in 2021 - two whole years after her heartbreaking death. (Article here.) 

And so I felt ready to finally cross this one off the list, even without a lookout stay. I'm actually really thankfully I let go of that idea, because WOW...that last boulder scramble to the top is something else. And you really need to have your full backpack with you if your intention is to stay; because chances are it'll be full and you'll have to climb back down and find somewhere else to lay your head. And it won't be at Hidden Lake unless you have a coveted permit - thus staying a Hidden Lake Lookout is a complected and risky endeavor. 

If you zoom in hard, you can see the lookout precariously perked atop...yikes

Day hiking it is hard enough. The instructions in my book were to expect to be hiking for 8 hours, which I foolishly thought I could beat, even with my slow speed. It took me exactly 8 hours, and I spent very little time in the lookout. (Though I did spent a bit of time picking berries - SO many next to the trail!) So I guess I'm not exactly the "slowesthiker" (another way to find this blog) but just your very average hiker. But I'm an alive hiker, and for that I'm very grateful. Happy "and also mixed with sadness" trails.

Heliotrope Ridge the Second Time Around

 

Heliotrope Ridge is hike #1 in "100 Classic Hikes in Washington." I've had that book for a dozen years at least. When I first started backpacking, it was pretty much my go to for planning. I would joke it was my "Sears catalog for hiking" (you have to be pretty old to appreciate that reference) because I spent so much time looking through it - circling, underlining and dreaming. 

So of course I day hiked it years ago, but I never wrote about it back then because I knew I had to go back. The glacier overlook was great and all...but what about this mysterious "climbers route" veering off from the main trail? I'm no climber; but I am curious. And if the trail is going up, I know that's where it gets good. 

Good, and hard. Which is why it's taken me so long to go back. And also because the road has been washed out for years. But once I saw the road was back in commission, I knew it was time.

Even with so many years and miles of experience under my belt, I still felt a little intimidated by this adventure. Thankfully the first couple miles are very straight forward and well trodden, so the only thing to worry about there is over crowding.  So even though this trail is known for it's stream crossings, which can be pretty intense early season, you can always count on having company.

It's just past the 2 mile mark and the sign saying "climbers trail" where things change. I always feel a little out of my element when I'm on another sport enthusiast's turf. But I saw not another soul that day once I made the turn.

It's really not that far to get to the first climbers camp - maybe a mile at most. But I'm glad I waited until late season when my legs are feeling strong, because it really is a push. And just before you get to Hogsback, the trail pretty much disappears. I think there has been a washout of sorts there, because it's very hard to see. I made my way around the side, while my AllTrails kept telling me I was a dufus. 

Once I crested the top, I saw my first tent area and knew I had made it. Looking up even further I saw a tent, and was glad I wasn't alone. There really wasn't a trail, so I wandered around looking for a bigger site that would fit my Durston tent.

This is where I made a really stupid, mindless mistake. I went to cross a very small stream, and stepped right on the wet, flat rock bottom. It was a miracle I didn't go down hard. (Thank you trekking poles!) I'm getting to an age where falling like that is a real worry; I get wrecked just using my gardening pruner too aggressively! (Literally...like a few days before. My shoulder would not have survived a forceful impact. I shudder thinking about it.)

Anyway, I found a great spot and enjoyed my first night solo in almost a year. For those of you who have tried a solo backpack and feel like something is wrong with you because you were terrified and couldn't sleep, let me assure you that you are 100% normal. It took me SO LONG to be comfortable with it; but I honestly love it so much now and totally think it was worth all the suffering. 

In the morning I left my tent and went wandering upwards to see how far I could get. Once I got to the upper level, I saw that the one tent I could see was actually part of a large group, and I was really grateful they were all gone and most likely half way up to the summit already so I didn't have to feel like the outsider roaming through their camp. 

With thoughts of my near fall the day before on my mind, I turned around when the trail got to steep and scrambley. Best not to push my luck, as I climber I am not. I felt like I was going extra, extra slow on the way down, but surprisingly I was back at my car in just two hours. Another hour of driving (count on that forest road taking a full half hour at least - it's a doozy!) and I was at the North Fork Brewery at exactly noon as they opened their doors. Happy "worth coming back to" trails!

Glacier National Park's Highline Trail Bonus Hike

 

Heidi was amped to hike. As I mentioned in my last post, she did not go with us on our Bowman-Kintla loop because of injury. She had trained her knee right into a stress fracture when preparing for her Mount Rainier summit attempt. (She got within a couple miles but then the weather said no. Ugh, she's had a tough year.) But after several weeks of rest, her doctor said she could hike three miles if they weren't too challenging.

Heidi had sent me info on the Highline Trail with a Google screenshot saying it was a PNT alternative route because we needed lots of substitute plans in case our walk up permits fell through. It's a 12 mile point to point, which was great because I was never going to get my last 40 miles in doing up and backs with only four full days to hike. (Being I can only count those miles one way towards my 500 mile goal.) 

See the cable for people with Acrophobia? You're not going far if you need it.

You can't always trust Google, because after doing the Highline I'm pretty certain it has nothing to do with the Pacific Northwest Trail. And that's fine, because we got the loop done. It may not have gotten me ALL the way to 40, but SO close at 35.8 miles. I suppose I could have walked 4.2 miles on the road that is still considered PNT miles to be completely official, but who in their right mind would choose a road and miss out on this...

Though we did almost miss out anyway. There's a new system at Glacier National Park that requires you to have a reservation to drive on the Going to the Sun road...the only way to said hike. But like all reservations in this extremely popular park, they are near impossible to get. SO lots of folks beat the system by going through the gate before 6 am when the reservations start. Us included.

Granite Park Chalet is right on trail! You can only hike to it.

Except because there is this surge of cars going up to Logan's Pass (which is the highest elevation you can drive to, has a massive visitor center and is also where the hike starts) the parking lot is guaranteed full at 7 am. So that means we needed to get there at 6:30, which means we needed to leave before sunrise at 5:30 and NO later.

Our morning selfie at Hole in the Wall camp. BRRRR

Janet uses a nalgene that says "BUT FIRST COFFEE" (above) and it is a motto she lives by. But this was a "drive first" day, so Janet was not a happy camper. Consequently, she was even grumpier when we asked if she could change a flat tire when we discovered that was our situation before even turning out of our KOA campground.

Janet gets er done! Plus I think she might make a great break dancer ;)

BUT SHE STEPPED UP! I wouldn't say Heidi and I are helpless women by any stretch...but this is not our realm. I really thought the day was shot, and I saw utter disappointment in Heidi's eyes. But because we had the extra time set aside for finding a parking spot, Heidi threw out our only hope option by saying "if one of you can change this tire in 30 minutes, we can still make it through the gate." 

Heidi IS a happy camper

Janet grumbled, "I can do it if one of you can figure out the jack," and then it was ON. We were like a NASCAR pit crew! I guarded the bolts like a mother hen until head surgeon Janet threw out her hand and ordered, "BOLT!" I'm pretty sure it was done in 15.

So we had enough time to make the gate, but not enough to find a parking spot. Thankfully we fit into an "unofficial" spot on the road, but I think they are really cracking down on that because we got a warning. Though even a ticket would have been worth seeing the light in Heidi's eyes as she got to hike her first few miles in weeks.

Time for Heidi (and little Sunni) to turn around :(

And a group shot of Rocky, Sammy and Sunni too

Poor Heidi did NOT want to stop hiking - we practically had to threaten to tell her doctor if she didn't turn around. So we took our group pic and she went back to get the car to drive down to the "Loop Trailhead" and wait for us. We were thankful for her, and sad for her, and also totally sure she'd be back to do it herself someday. I hope everyone reading this finds a friend like her. Happy "teamwork makes the dream work" trails!

To see video of this deer licking Janet's pack click here