Ozette Triangle at Last

You know what they say...if first you don't succeed; try, try again. It's a great motto--but unfortunately for me it's more like, "when your plans have failed before, you will try again...but be prepared to be paranoid the entire time that something will go terribly wrong".
(the story of my first failed attempt http://kellbell-whywouldanyonereadthis.blogspot.com/2012/12/plan-b.html)

Nevertheless, we got onto the ferry just fine--the last one of the day. (No second chance if we were late, so that worried me, for sure) We found where we would be staying the night just fine. Our alarms went off to get us up in time. But despite all these details going just fine, there were a few circumstances that were out of our control that made us off schedule by over an hour. 

One of these 'circumstances' was that we missed the turn and ended up in Forks. (Yes, being dorks is something that is out of our control) I wouldn't say that any of us are Twilight fans, but that doesn't mean we were going to miss a photo opportunity.

We are making fangs like we're vampires. This would classify us as "super dorks"

By the time we got to the trailhead, it was 1:00 pm. This would give us a little over 4 hours to do a 9 mile hike before it started to get dark. Can you blame me for being paranoid?  I mean, if we were going to commit to doing this hike, we had no time for anything to go wrong.

We did try to be well prepared, though, and packed extra layers of clothes and our headlamps in case it did get dark on us. Although, Debbie decided it wasn't necessary to bring her emergency fire starting kit she got for Christmas and left it at home. (Which of course made me think this was going to be the one time we would need one) She also forgot her 'yak trax' that we specifically bought for this hike. (They're to put on your shoes to give you traction--thanks to the suggestion of the hikers on the NWhikers forum) Can you believe she said it was because I had rubbed off on her? She was razzing me, of course; but I'm afraid she's right, because it's something she would normally never do. She came to the rescue though by figuring out we could each wear one, and it worked well enough to keep us safe on the very slippery boards.

When we got to the ocean (the 'legit' ocean, as my daughter called it, because it was our first time on Washington shore that wasn't in the Puget Sound) I had a moment of panic. The trail started going to the right. I knew we had to go left...or did I? This was a simple equation--it's a triangle. We went right at the start, now we go left. But there was no sign, and the trail was going right. There was no time to make a mistake, and no time to be following a trail we shouldn't be on. But everyone wanted to see where the trail went; so we followed it, and thankfully it wasn't far and ended at some campsites. So we turned around and went to the left...but I'll confess that for the rest of the time, I was 1% worried we were going the wrong way and would end up staying the night with no fire or tent.

The other 99% of me was blown away by the beauty of this hike. I couldn't get over how amazing the giant rock formations in the ocean were; it was hard to walk because I couldn't take my eyes off them. So much so, that I'm afraid I would have missed the most astonishing part of this wonderful adventure if it weren't for my daughter. What the rest of us thought was just a big rock up from the shore turned out to be something else entirely. Suddenly Amber shouts, "Holy shit...it's a whale!!!" (Normally I'm not a mother that condones swearing, but if ever there was a time, this was it)

We were totally excited, and very saddened at the same time. What a majestic creature; (over 20 feet long!) it almost felt wrong to stand around it's dead body and take pictures. But how could we not capture this moment--it was a once in a lifetime occurrence.

Nature is beautiful and severe; and the dead whale would not be the only thing to prove it.

Harsh to come across yet another corpse...beautiful to watch the eagles that were feasting flying around us so close.

Another episode of panic came to me when we were going around a point of land on the beach because the only other option was to climb an extremely difficult (not to mention unsafe) looking rope to go up and over. (This is why you want to go during low tide) It really hit me, as I looked out at the water, how much I didn't know about how fast the tide could come in, or what situation that would put us in if we didn't get to the trail that heads back in a timely manner. Debbie and Mi Sun looked as if they were lollygagging, (I was ahead for a change) so I yelled back at them (with conviction) to "HURRY UP". When they caught up, Debbie let me know (with conviction) that instead of lollygagging, they were simply trying not to twist an ankle on the extremely slippery algae covered rocks. Oops...sorry Deb.

Debbie providing some much needed comic relief

So it was with great comfort that we finally came upon the marker to the last leg of the hike. (and just as the sun was starting to set) 

This is right when the rainbow came out--can you believe it? I don't want to be corny, but it really was a moment for me.

Rainbows are such a symbol of hope...no matter how bad things look at times, there is always beauty in the world. And this hike really captured all of that in my mind; from worry to relief, from anxiety to astonishment, from not knowing how things will turn out, to experiencing wonder...it was all there.

It did get dark on the way out, but it was all good. Because of the boards, it's pretty impossible to lose your way. (Even for me ;)) When we reached the car, I declared it was one of the best days of my life. I understood that as much as everyone else enjoyed it, they couldn't quite put it in that high of a category. I also understood that it was because of all my fear, and the feeling that the weight of the success or failure of the day was on my shoulders, that gave me such emotion over it. Just like we are not able to fully appreciate what is beautiful without having the contrast of knowing what is ugly, sometimes it is our failures (or even the fear of them) that gives greater depth and richness to our victories.

P.S. Hiking lesson #26--packing extra clothes is unhelpful if you don't have a waterproof backpack; unless you're in need of extra wet clothes.

For Barefoot Jake

As the year drew to a close, I was looking back over my hikes and fondly reminiscing, when I noticed a comment left by a 'barefoot Jake'. It's not like I didn't see it when he first left it (it's always fun when a stranger leaves a comment...it makes me feel like I actually have fans!) but this time I noticed it in a way that made me think, "hummm, I wonder who this barefoot Jake is?" So, I clicked on his name, and it brought me to a page that told me a whole lot about barefoot Jake.

Every time I meet or read about other hikers, I am humbled. It's not like I think of myself as any sort of great outdoorsman...but when I run across a real outdoorsman, it still makes me feel like a poser. Go to his web page, and you'll see what I mean. http://www.barefootjake.com/

So anyway, on the day of New Year's Eve, the computer I had just bought off of Craigslist went belly up. I understand that buying something off of Craigslist is always going to be a bit of a crap-shoot...and I understand that a normal reaction is to be upset and disappointed when making a poor decision and wasting your money (even when you knew you were taking a risk)...and I also understand that my reaction was not exactly normal, because I went totally sideways. I'd have to do a lot of explaining about my upbringing and issues to help you appreciate this, but I'll spare you that. (your welcome ;))

I called the guy I bought the computer from, and he was nice enough to let me take it back so he could possibly fix it. On my way there, I started thinking about barefoot Jake and what he wrote about coming back to 'real life' after 30+ days hiking in the Olympic National Park:

  "Experiencing a huge shock to the system.  I find myself starring out windows watching it pour down rain.  Reflecting back to the most fulfilling year of my life.  

  Looking through 100's of pictures that I snapped along the way.  Wishing I was walking through fields of wildflowers.  With every breath; smelling wilderness in my lungs."

And I thought to myself, "Real life sucks". ;) But it occurred to me, that even though my life has in it things like computers breaking down and afternoons spent driving around mall parking lots, (another story, but NEVER try to return anything the weekend after Christmas--I know, it should have been a no-brainer) those things are not my real life. Life is blessedly so much more than computers and shopping malls; I just need to remember that. And what better way to remind myself than to go on a hike!

You don't need to strap on a backpack and plan to spend weeks on the trail to let wilderness fill your lungs; sometimes you can just pull your car over. And so, since I was making yet another trip to Anacortes, why not go back and finish some of the hike I did last week? Part of the trail went right up to the road (I found it when I followed one of the rabbit paths I talked about) and so that is where I literally did just pull the car over and start.

I realized after I posted my "Deception Pass Headlands - Rosario Head - Lighthouse Point" hike (called "Plan B") that I never actually did the Lighthouse Point part. When I looked more carefully at the map picture I took, I saw that I only did Lottie Point. There's a sign on the trail that points to Lighthouse Point that confused me the first time, because it is directed down to the beach. (I thought it must have been askew) But this time I went down to the beach and found the trail picks back up after just a little bit of shore walking.

I need to explain here that barefoot Jake had on his website that he was giving away a pair of 'minimalist' shoes to the person who posted the best picture of their bare feet. (Hopefully he doesn't have a fetish ;)) Who doesn't like a good contest? I had a lot of fun composing various shots of my feet--I even scrambled down to the shore to take one with this cool looking cave.

This is when I realized I really had to pee. I'm one of those people who really hates to pee outdoors; I'm just super paranoid someone will walk by. Guys don't get this, because they don't have to squat. But getting caught squatting is humiliating--it seems that way to me anyway. But I figured this was the perfect spot--it's off the trail and completely protected. You'll never guess what happened as soon as I had my pants down...a speedy boat (too fast for me even to think about getting my jeans back up) came roaring by (close, too!) with about 6 grown men on it. What's a girl to do but just smile and wave? I got some loud hoops and hollers--what can I say, sometimes you just gotta go with it.

Turns out there is a lighthouse...just not a very romantic one

When I got back to my car, I was completely over that stupid computer. Though, I wonder if Jake would be offended if he chooses my picture, and I end up selling the shoes so I can put the money towards getting me a computer that actually works. Just kidding, Jake...if I win, I promise to wear the shoes proudly and remember the lessons about appreciating what life really is.

Plan B

Ferries suck. I can't imagine having to rely on them on a daily basis. I guess that means I will never live on an island. (Hawaii excluded, of course ;)) I already had one hike almost ruined because of how unpredictable ferry travel can be, (Mount Constitution) and I was pretty proud of how we "improvised" and worked around the four hour ferry wait. (NOT in the plans) But when your plan is to take a 7:30pm ferry to Port Townsend to spend the night so you can get up at 6:00am to drive 3 hours to the coast on a rare day the tides are favorable and do a 9 mile hike before it gets dark...and the ferry shuts down...well, that pretty much means you don't have a plan anymore.

I won't lie, I was really bummed. I had been planning this trip for weeks, and my daughter and her best friend had adjusted their schedules to be able to come with me. It didn't matter that the weather was going to be horrible--that just added to the sense of adventure! I bought a new raincoat, and special traction devices for our feet; it was going to be a do or die operation. So when we pulled up to the little ticket booth with my prepaid reservation in hand, my mind was not prepared to comprehend the teller's not so friendly greeting of "We're done". 

"But, I have a reservation...you were going to email me if there was a change in the schedule." (Can you hear the desperation in my voice? Yes, I was pathetic.) "The winds are too high. We are done for the night." (Can you hear the "If I have to explain this to one more person, I'm going to bang my head against this window" annoyance in her voice?) When your plans have been crushed, I guess you hope to be treated more gently--but who can blame her. It was a sucky night for everybody. 

On the day we would have been coming home and heading back through Anacortes, I had planned on meeting up with someone selling a computer on Craigslist who lived in the area. Now that I had to make a special trip to Anacortes to do this, I decided I would do a different (though far less epic) hike. The weather was still quite sour, but at least I would have a chance to try out my new raincoat.

Picture complete darkness to you left

On my first hike of this year, I explained how Anacortes gets 6 inches less rainfall per year, and this day was no exception. On the drive over I took this picture out my window, although it doesn't really capture how drastically different the skies over each area were. I guess my raincoat test would have to wait.

I was glad to have my raincoat with me though, because the daypack full of extra clothes and water and luminary devises I had so carefully packed was left sitting by my front door. (Seriously, Kelly?--smack head) It's a good thing I had my Santa hat on, because it was also all I had.

I knew I didn't have to worry too much about being so ill prepared--this hike is never more than a quarter mile away from hwy 20. (Not exactly your wilderness adventure.) Plus it had such helpful and informative signage.

Can I just say, "No shit?"

If your considering doing the "Deception Pass Headlands - Rosario Head - Lighthouse Point" hike, let me try to explain it clearly, because the descriptions I found were a bit confusing. These are two separate hikes that go in opposite directions. Neither hike is very long; the WTA page says 5 miles, but I'm assuming that includes doing one and then hiking back to do the other. I picked Lighthouse Point (no lighthouse, btw) because I was running out of daylight and didn't have time for both. (Due to the fact that after I bought the computer I left without the powercord and had to go back. Do you see a pattern here?)

I was being sarcastic about the signs; (in case you didn't catch that ;)) they are pretty confusing and I ended up on a lot of rabbit paths. (I wonder if the 5 miles includes them as well?) I plan on going back in the summer to do Rosario Head and some other hikes in the area. I took several pictures of the giant map in the parking lot so hopefully next time I'll know what I'm doing. (Maybe I'll even remember my backpack?)

I haven't given up hope on my original plan; (it's the Ozette Triangle, if your wondering) in fact there is a couple weekends next month that look promising. Hopefully the ferry gods will be smiling. :)

 

Lake Ann (Mount Baker Hwy)

It hurts to say it...but this is most likely my last backpacking trip of the year. Maybe even my last hike until spring. The weather has turned, no question, and I just don't do snow. I might need to reconsider though, and look into snowshoes; because I'm really going to miss being out there. Feeling "one with nature"...it's so cliche', but it really does start to get in your blood. A friend described it as "feeding the soul, like nothing else can", and I really get it. I think on one level or another, everybody does.

This friend (ok, it's Rick--Melissa's husband) was saying this when I was picking up my loaner gear and asking him about Sahale Arm. (A hike he's already done, and the one I was planning on doing as the last hurrah of the year.) It's heralded as such a quintessential hike; I couldn't help but be drawn to it. But there are so many reasons why it wasn't practical; the biggest one being Debbie was counting on me to bring her on a hike she would enjoy...and 3600 feet in elevation gain on anyone's 2nd time backpacking is most likely not going to be a good time.

Lake Ann is just 8 miles round trip and only 1900 feet elevation gain. The part of me that wants to be all hard core just doesn't feel like this is worthy of an overnight trip--I think that's why I had such a hard time switching. I'm so thankful for the part of me that argues, "And what's the point if you have a crappy time?" Feeding the soul is not about clocking in miles--that would be called feeding the ego. I have a lot of thoughts about the ego, and this is not the place for it...but I do believe that when my life becomes about impressing others, I can kiss joy goodbye.

So it was off to Lake Ann, with a quick stop at REI to pick up my first real piece of my very own equipment--a headlamp. (Oh wait, I did just buy new boots...but that doesn't count because I never borrowed shoes) Thank God Debbie was with me, because of course I was going for the cheapest one they had. She pointed out 100 lumens vs 20 lumens was probably worth another $18 bucks. I think I even have a better one now than Rick has!  Ha, ha--I win! (Hey, I never said I didn't have an ego ;))

I also tried to buy my own bear bin, but they were out. We tried to stop at the ranger station to get one--they were closed. Ugh, this meant we were supposed to hang the food. I need some instruction on how to do this, because it's a lot harder than it sounds. I consoled myself (and Debbie) by saying I didn't think there were many bears in that area. Did I know what I was talking about? Of course not.

Barely out of the car and WOW

Just the drive to the trail head is a feast for the soul; if you've ever driven to Artist's Point you know what I'm talking about. It was a perfect day, and no picture can capture the vibrancy of the fall colors. (Even so, we kept trying!)


This hike starts by going down, until you end up in the most delightful valley. We kept saying how we felt we were in some rich person's backyard; the trail maintenance is exceptional, to the point of looking quite landscaped at times.

Debbie is saying, "Seems like this should lead
 to someone's barbecue, huh?"

This is where we ran across the hunters--coming off the mountain with bear heads and skins in their packs. (Debbie just had to ask.) I believe they said they shot three, and would come back later to retrieve the meat. (I'm sure they could have taught us a thing or two on how to hang food in a tree!) So much for my theory on not many bears in that area...though now there were three less. One of the guys even tried to point out a bear roaming around on a distant hill, but I think hunters can see things us normal people can't. I just hoped that bear was headed in the other direction--and I was really wishing we had a bear bin.

Double rainbow--what does it mean?
(I know it's not a rainbow--it's a youtube reference. Look it up)

From the valley it was up and up until we reached a small snow field--and then the lake! This is when I knew I needed to throw all pretenses of being a bad ass hiker aside, because after those four piddly miles I was done. Take care of Debbie? Ha--I'm sure she would have been dragging my butt up Sahale Arm had I taken her there. 

But talk about worth the effort--words cannot describe. Shuksan roaring above us, (the glacier makes sounds like thunder) and Lake Ann like a mirror beneath us. It was almost unbelievably beautiful, really.

Shuksan means "roaring mountain", or "high peak", depending on who you ask

Rockin' my lumens!

We had the whole place to ourselves--which is really rare, I hear.We ran around like a couple of giggly schoolgirls who have somehow got away with not having a chaperon. Bears could not have been further from my mind, but we did hide our food the proper distance away. Hide...not hang. Debbie, who is often the expert on everything, (sorry Deb, but you know it's true...I can tease her because she also never takes herself too seriously, which is one of the reasons why I love her ;)) tried to give me a little lesson on how to throw the bag properly. It's probably a good thing it was a major fail, because we most likely would have never gotten it out of the tree otherwise.

For those who want to know how to throw a food bag, take note

In the morning we had a guest who entertained us for about an hour. It's amazing what you find amusing when you don't have internet access or cable. (Though, I have to confess I found myself watching "Too Cute" once, which is a TV show that is literally just kittens running around. My husband sat and watched it too for awhile...which makes you wonder if there was some weird mind control thing going on, right?...Can you say 'alien broadcast'? ;))

We named him "Chip". Original, don't you think?

I am not feeding the animals...nuts just happened to fall on my shoe

Both Debbie and I thought we would really struggle with the last couple miles, because this time they would be going straight up; but we didn't at all. Maybe it was because we stopped so often to take pictures. Or, maybe it was because our souls were so well fed. I think I like that a lot better. :)



Even Chip knew not to eat it

P.S. Only one hiking lesson this time:
#25--Just say "no" to dehydrated scrambled eggs. For real.

Last Day--Hannegan Peak

Three nights...check. Maybe I cheated a little by staying in the same place for two nights, but I'm ok with that. I'm sort of making up the rules as I go anyway; we will see if I actually get in both a four and five night hike next year. I'm keeping my fingers crossed. So anyway, here I am on the fourth day, and it was time to pack up and head out. I was feeling more energetic than I expected, and so I kept telling myself I needed to do Hannegan Peak on my way out. The downhill switchbacks that I loved so much two days ago were heavy on my mind though...because of course this time they would be uphill.

Surprisingly I was done with them before I knew it, and as I came up to the sign for Hannegan Peak I ran into my first set of hikers...both of them going pee. "I didn't see anything" was all I said as hurried by. The peak is just a mile up and another down--no need to bring the pack, so I hid it behind a tree. First I took all the food out, and stashed it separately...it's hard to imagine anything worse than having to replace a backpack I don't even own because a squirrel chewed through it to get to the trail mix. I would take my chances on someone finding it and stealing it...what are the odds of that happening? (The squirrel thing happened to my husband once, so I think that's a more common occurrence. I have never even heard of a hiker stealing another hiker's pack...that is just unthinkable.) I did make sure to take the key out, though. Worst case scenario ever--calling Ken to tell him the last remaining key to the car is gone. As you can see in the picture, when Ken brought me the key on my first day, he made sure it was on the biggest ass carabiner he could find. Gotta love him. 

There was some fog, but I really thought it would get better the higher I got. I love mountains peaking out from behind clouds, (as I mentioned before) so I was really enjoying the views on the way up. The peak was going to be amazing...

Not so much. Total white out. I didn't even bother going to the tip top, because there was nothing to see.

I was happy that I did get to see the one tent site I had heard about--the one with views to die for. Although, I knew what would really make me die...hauling my pack up here the day I felt like I was going to pass out, only to find it already taken. Boundary Camp might not have been all that much to look at, but I was sold on the bear locker and toilet; and they served me well.

The hike down and out was beautiful; not just in spite of the fog, but because of it. All the fall colors just popped out...and my head didn't feel like it was going to explode from the heat.

Still a few beautiful wildflowers blooming

I stopped at a very cute cafe on the way home and treated myself to a Reuben sandwich and beer. (It was heavenly!) Thankfully they had seating outside, because I smelled like my son's socks--which is really saying something.

Looking (and smelling) a lot like death

I'm so thankful for this experience, and the lessons I learned...which are:

22) Don't take your car key off your key chain to save pack weight--it is not worth the .02 pounds, trust me.

23) When your lighting the jetboil, make sure it's not turned on full blast. (I left that story out...embarrassing, but a VERY important thing to remember.)

24) Bring enough water!!! Dehydration sucks.