Hermit Trail Surprise

 

"We didn't get the permits."

Dani's proclamation was no surprise. Arizona's Rim to Rim Trail in the Grand Canyon is one of the nation's most popular. Dani, in case you didn't know, is my Arizona hiking friend/tour guide whom I met three years ago in Washington. As fate would have it, she lives less than an hour away from where my Dad just moved. So needless to say, Arizona is my new destination spot for hiking. This is a godsend, considering the worst months for hiking here in Washington are the best months there. Or at least that's what I thought.

I didn't mind not getting the desired permits--I was game for any ol' trail with the beautiful Arizona sun giving me some much needed vitamin D. Being as I was game for whatever my" tour guide" had planned, I didn't give any thought to this "other" permit that was obtained. Hermit Creek, she says? Sounds great...as long as there is some water, we are all good. I mean, I may need to cool down in it, right?

Thankfully, Dani set me straight before I left Washington with a screenshot of the weather forecast. A possible low of 15 degrees?!? And snow?!? With an estimated 2-4 inches, at least I knew I wouldn't need to pack my snowshoes, but all the other cold weather gear went into the pack...along with my vitamin D supplements :(

What I didn't expect was to be going into the Grand Canyon! Turns out Hermit Creek is just another trail down--who knew? It's just an eight mile in, eight mile out situation, so we thought we'd do what is one of my favorite hiking scenarios: Day One) Hike in and set up camp. Day Two) Explore area with a day pack and Day Three) Pack up and head out. 

It's a LONG drive from where we were, so day one was actually just getting there and setting camp in one of the free (my favorite!) campgrounds just outside of the National Park. As the snow started to fall, we decided getting a warm meal and finding any other way to stay indoors was a good plan. So for your information: 1) The Yavapai Lodge has reasonably priced food and their elk chili is pretty good. (Though expect to feel a little guilty as you see all the cute elk roaming around.) 2) The IMAX theater is everything you remember from the 80's and is great trip down memory lane, but a bit pricey at $12 for a half hour show. (Though some great information about the Grand Canyon.)

I was very confused when I put "Hermit Creek Trailhead" into my GPS and it said there was no route available, but I knew Dani had our backs. Turns out when you get the permit (sorry, but I have no info on how that's done...but I will say it does not sound easy) you get the special code to get through the gate that is otherwise closed to the public. (Except by means of public transport.) I must admit, I do so love being VIP! ;)

Sorry, but you are delicious

The views were AMAZING as we drove the restricted road, but as we pulled into the hiker's lot, we were not feeling so special. Sideways snow will tend to make you feel like you are more possibly an idiot for being there then anything special. Though we fully accept we are both hiking fools...so away we went. 

Back when I was envisioning Hermit Creek as a sunny meandering trail amidst the Arizona hills, I could accept Dani's estimation of a four hour hike out on day three. Four hours for eight miles is kind of maximum speed for me, but it's not totally unreasonable. But as we plummeted 1600 feet in the first two miles, we started to discuss our plan of getting out and back to my Dad's by 6 pm on day three. (Which was a necessity for me.) Six hours later and finally getting to camp (and let me remind you, this is going down) we agreed staying that extra day was a hard no. The crazy weather (hail hitting you hard in the face for example) made the call pretty easy.

My "hikery" shot ;)

Dani taught me another important hiking lesson (sorry that I don't number them anymore) when we finally rolled into camp: if there is any question about the weather, get that tent up ASAP. All I wanted to do was eat (another lesson...don't forget to have snacks super accessible! There are often times you just don't want to stop, even though you really should) but getting caught in a deluge is far worse than hunger. And wouldn't you know, the SECOND we got in our tents, it struck--HARD. I have never been so thankful to be safe in my tent. 

I will say that Dani's guess at four hours out was not ridiculous...for her. And as we hiked together and she always stayed within sight, I kind of forgot we are on different planets when it comes to speed. But that last hard mile up, she cut the apron strings. "I'll see you at the car. I'll wait an hour before I come looking for you." And sure enough, I was right on time. (An hour AFTER she got there, to be clear...and that was just one mile.) I'm so extremely thankful she puts up with me. May you find a hiking tour guide who is just as wonderful. Happy "unexpected but amazing" trails!

My Arizona Angel

 

Talapus Lake Snowshoe

Don't you wish that President's Day was in the summer? I mean, a day off in February feels like kind of a waste, doesn't it? But now that I'm kinda into the snowshoe scene, I thought maybe I'd try another winter backpack...no squandered day off for me! 

But nobody could go with me. Did I really want to do this alone? Winter backpacking means a LOT of time in your tent (unless you like hiking in the dark) and though I enjoy my alone time, I do have my limits.

At around noon on Sunday I suddenly decided, "screw it, I'm going." I threw my stuff together and headed out. I had been researching Talapus Lake and knew the 3.5 miles of road walk to the parking lot would be easy. From there I could decide if I wanted to camp in the parking lot like I did at Kelcema Lake or try to push on the to the lake, which is another 1.7 miles.

There were just a few cars at 3:30 on the side of the road where you have to park (almost immediately after you get off of I-90 because the forest road is closed in winter) which was a relief because there is not a ton of room and I had read it could get busy. I also read you didn't necessarily need snowshoes, so I tried to see how far I could comfortably go without them, which lasted all of about one minute. That lasted all of about 15 minutes, until the road became mostly snow free, so they came off again. That lasted about a mile, then back on with the snowshoes. This was putting me in a bit of sour mood because taking snowshoes off and on is annoying as hell in my book.

Finally, some people were coming down from the top. I wanted to know if getting to the lake was as easy as I had hoped, since I was still deciding if I wanted to go for it. She advised I should have a GPS map app to lead me, as the path was really hard to follow. Dang. Parking lot camping it is. She did say there was reception at the lot, so if I wanted, I could download Alltrails or something. Probably a good idea, since it was already starting to snow, so their snowshoe prints would most likely be gone by morning.

Is there video of me peeing somewhere? ;)

And they were...VERY gone by morning. I expected some snow, but holy shit, it looked like close to a foot! (And yes, it was a LONG night. In my tent at 5:30 pm. Ugh.) Good thing I downloaded that map. But wait...wow it REALLY drained my battery. Good thing I brought a battery pack...and no cord. UGH!! Why even bother going to the lake when I can't even take a picture! 

1%?!? Take a picture, quick!

That's sad, I know. It's not about the picture. Life actually happens regardless of whether you have proof. Life might happen even more genuinely without that damn phone, right? And wow, what a day to experience life. So, I left my dead phone in the tent and promised myself I'd turn around as soon as I didn't feel confident I was following the trail. 

"This is easy! This trail is obvious!" I thought to myself as I went further and further in. "Maybe not to your average hiker, but clearly all my time in the woods has heightened my ability to read the trail," I told myself as I gave myself some serious mental back patting. After what felt like a couple miles, I got to a sign that warned hikers not to cut switchbacks. "I must be close...looks like a clearing ahead where a lake might be!"

And just like that, I had no idea where the trail was. I kept going anyway. I couldn't get this close without seeing the lake! But then I remembered my promise. I had to turn around. 

But wait. I saw some other person's snowshoe prints coming up over there! Someone must have been camped at the lake, and I just missed them when I got off trial. I got out my paper map, and yes, it did seem like the elevation goes down to the lake. Cool, I just need to follow these and I'm golden.

I almost turned around a couple of times, because I didn't like how far down I was going; but then I'd see something that looked like a clearing. The tease of the lake being "just ahead" kept me moving. When no lake would appear, I'd get out my map again. Did this person come from a different trail? But there were none. What's it going to hurt to keep following a bit further.

When I saw an opening ahead with a bathroom, I knew I was finally there. But still no lake--just a large clearing. And the person's tent is still here! Weird. My mind whizzed around trying to make sense of it. "They must have hiked in really late. Wow, what a bad ass! No wonder they are still asleep. But maybe they aren't okay. Maybe they are dead! Oh, don't be dramatic...but I really should make sure, huh?"

I approached the nearly snow buried tent hesitantly and was just about to call out to the mystery person inside when it hit me like a bullet. This is my tent. 

The sensation that came over me is hard to fully convey, but the first thing I did was laugh my ass off. How in the world did I not realize I was following my own prints? (In my defense, everything looked so different! And the trip back felt SO much shorter!) But besides feeling unbelievably stupid, I felt utterly amazed that this mystery bad ass was actually me. Looking at that tent (it was seriously almost buried because of melting tree snow falling on it while I was gone) and realizing I was the one who slept there made me feel a new appreciation for myself; even with my dingbat-ness. Such a strange roller coaster of emotions, going from confused to stunned to relieved to embarrassed to proud. It felt like a real mind fuck to be honest. (The scene where Harry realizes it was actually him and not his father who fought off the dementors came to mind for those of you who are Harry Potter nerds like me.)

Before going to bed...notice the rock
in both pictures

Last picture in the morning before my phone died

Needless to say, I was super stoked I didn't have to turn around and go back. Can you imagine if I had actually done that! And I nearly did! But let me tell you for certain, a second time around and I would NOT have been laughing. But thankfully all I had to do was pack up and make my lone tracks back down to my car in the beautiful, powdery, virgin snow. And though I do wish I had more pictures, they wouldn't have made this trip any more of a crazy, wonderful, and slightly fucked up experience. Though I will be sure to bring a camera when I go back this summer to finally see that damn lake! I bet when I pass that "no cutting switchbacks" sign I'll still have another mile to go, ha ha. Until then, happy "always be able to laugh at yourself" trails! (P.S. The first picture of the lake isn't mine, but I couldn't let you know I didn't make it to the lake and wreck the story ;))

Glad I could get my car out,
and charge my phone ;)

Kelcema Lake Snowshoe

I'm not a total virgin to snow camping, and neither was Beth. We told our consecutive chilly stories as we drove to our winter wonderland...all of them slightly missing the mark of what we considered the "full Monty" snow backpack experience. I stumbled upon Beth's plea on one of my FB hiking group pages: "I'm hoping to do a quick one nighter snow backpacking trip...anyone local who'd like to join in?"

How could I resist? This is how I met Beth three years ago when she invited all comers to join her on Section K of the PCT. (Story here) Beth's not afraid to roll the dice, that's for sure. But no risk, no reward...and we all hit the jackpot when our girl group bonded on that trip, and every year since. 

We were both ready to risk again with this last minute excursion that was a little out of our comfort zones. A late start was necessary, which meant setting camp in the dark was going to be unavoidable. But this snowshoe is almost entirely a road walk, so we weren't overly concerned. Arriving at Deer Creek just before the road closure, we faced our first challenge--parking. The lot there was a slushy, snowy mess...a place begging to suck in your tires and never let go. Parking on the road meant risking a ticket; so we did a little of both. Don't worry, we left plenty of room for folks to get around; but it wasn't pretty. 

Though everything else was pretty--very. Well, except for the several places where water had cleared the snow off the road. Crossing the last (and worst) one, Beth discovered a leakage spot in her boot :( I had already discovered a gear failure at the get go (pic below) but Beth came to the rescue with an extra strap that we were able to Jerry rig it with. 

Offer Up fail...will I ever stop being a cheap ass?

We unpacked our headlamps with a whole two miles to go, due to my utter slowness. The road walk is only four miles, so I had sort of imagined not having to get them out until we hit the real trail. (Which is only a quarter of a mile long! I will be heading back in the summer to take my grandkids for sure.) My past winter backpacks had not needed snowshoes, and the combo of needing to lift them out of the wet, heavy snow with the constant uphill proved to be murder on my out of season, flabby thighs. 

Beth is usually hours ahead of me, but this time her light was a constant beacon ahead. "Is the snow making you this slow too, or are you just keeping pace with me?" I had to ask. Her long pause told me all I needed to know...God bless her.

We finally arrived at the Kelcema Lake parking lot. Time to start to "real" trail. But dang, we got this large open flat area all to ourselves. No brainer...our packs came off. My legs couldn't even squat to pee without cramping, so it was obviously time to wave the white flag.The whole peeing situation in general was a major problem, as the snow was so soft you'd sink in when crawling out of your tent at night. (And did you know holding your urine only makes you colder?) I used my z-light foam pad as a mat to stand on, and my poles to help lower me enough as to not dribble on it (because I'm not exaggerating about the cramping). I'm pretty sure the night creatures were laughing at me. 

The beautiful morning made it all worth it. Being able to do the half mile to the lake and back without our big packs was a life saver, as the path was quite challenging. It was also so nice to be warmed up from the hike before having to break camp...is there anything worse than touching those freezing tent poles when you're still so cold? 

The sunny sky and downhill to the car made for a great ending. As far as ending this post goes, I'll conclude with a list of things I need to bring next time...and there will be a next time! Happy wintry trails! 

1) More hand warmers! (at least a dozen)

2) Both of my z-light pads. (So I can double up on my sleeping pads and still have the door mat)

3) Sunglasses (Can't believe I forgot)

4) My Whisper Light stove instead of my Jetboil (White gas burns better in the cold conditions) with a FULL container of gas so I can melt snow without worrying about running out. I'll be leaving my filter home because even being careful, I fear it'll freeze. (Which ruins them.)

5) My She Pee. (It's been awhile...I need to practice!)

I'll be back Mountain Loop Hwy

Spaced Out Street Walker

Am I the only one absolutely losing their mind this winter? The off season is never easy, but this one has been particularly tough. Maybe because my hiking expectations keep increasing. As with any addiction, I need more and more to get my fix...and when there is no hiking...withdrawals. 

Yes, this is officially part of a trail

Of course, it's not like I can't hike just because it's winter. It's just that my escalation of expectations means a decrease in motivation for the "average" hike. But as Mick Jagger so eloquently put it, "You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometime, you'll find you get what you need."

Our starting spot - the famous jets of Oak Harbor

And so, looking at the dismal forecast (did you know that we did not get a full day of sun for the months of November and December?!) I decided a simple walk in the rain was going to have to do. If the hike was to be "average," then it might as well mark off a few of my PNT miles. (Working on a goal of 500. My new thing - 500 on 5 different trails. Gotta keep with my "5" theme! Will I finish before I hit 60 and have to make it "6"?)

Wildlife on the road

A few months ago, a gal I had never met messaged me (or "slipped into my DM's" as I've heard the youngins say) that she'd like to help me with my PNT miles, as she loved the trail too. But would she want to walk boring road miles in Oak Harbor?

Surprisingly, the answer was yes! We'd meet at Cornet Bay where'd we leave a car, then drive together to the Mobil station where we'd start our 11 mile journey back. The PNT is one of the newer long distance trails, and it has some bugs to work out...one of them being way too much road walking. (75% road in Skagit Valley! Ugh!) But hey, they count. 

A handful of these miles were actually in the forest

What a marvelous treat to meet Rebecca! And how wonderful of her to do these miles again with me. (She's already done all the PNT on Whidbey Island and has a house there that she and her husband ran as a hostel up until this year.) The miles flew by as we told tales, compared husbands (they are basically the same person) shared spiritual thoughts and even discussed politics - politely! And it didn't even rain on us! Before we knew it, my car was back in sight. Though suddenly I realized I had NO idea where I put my key. ZERO recollection of storing it safely in a pocket--something I am usually intensely aware of after a humiliating experience on one of my first backpacks. (Which you can read here if you want.)

A ferry that operated at the end of this point used to be the only way across...
before Deception Pass Bridge

Rebecca was so gracious, assuring me she could call her husband if I locked them in my car, but thankfully the car was unlocked...with the keys still in the ignition!! I know I get nervous meeting new people, but sheesh! I guess it's good that she discovered I'm missing a few brain cells before she agrees to hike with me again. Fingers crossed she still says yes. Happy non-trail trails! ;)

Getting Lucky on the PNT

 

I’ve broken the 200 mile mark! (Explanation here ) But that’s not the only thing that made this trip a lucky one. Many have called the High Divide/Seven Lakes Basin the “crown jewel” of the Olympics, so luck is certainly needed to get a backpacking permit anywhere along it’s 19 mile loop – especially on a weekend. So when I saw an opening on a Saturday in September months ago, I snagged it. Advanced planning for anything outdoors in the Pacific Northwest requires weather luck for sure – which was ours as well. 

This classic loop begins and ends at Sol Duc Falls

“What are the chances” luck struck when after shooting the breeze with a fellow hiker while passing each other, we suddenly realized we had already met. Hilary had been our impromptu beach photographer in Port Townsend back when we did the Royal Basin hike. We laughed about the coincidence, but both encounters have left an impression that fate is telling us a hiking trip together will be on the horizon. 

I hope we find each other again, Hilary!

Salvation luck, though, is the best of all. We both knew a 14 mile day is pushing it for us 50+ years olds (especially with the large amount of uphill we were dealing with) except that is what our permit demanded.  It was the hour before needing headlamps (which mine had just run out of batteries the night before) when we saw below us what looked to be camp spots. “It has got to be Deer Lake!” we both agreed…even though it was clearly not a lake but several small ponds. (Exhaustion makes you ditch logic…it’s happened to me many times.) You may not think an unknown camp area we did not have a permit for with an available spot is luck (maybe just cheating?) but to us it truly felt like deliverance. Another mile in the dark and we would have been toast. 

Our perfect weather luck petered out by Sunday, but it was all good. We only had our five forest miles out, and a beautiful rainy woods walk is certainly not unlucky. 

Our last bit of luck was not on the PNT, but on our long drive home. I’ve had my share of bad luck with the Washington State ferries, but this time we outsmarted the cruel ferry Gods. Our empty stomachs and hangry attitudes determined that skipping the extra line outside of town (BEFORE getting in the actual line for a ferry ticket…this is to help the massive congestion on the main street when the ferry wait is over two hours) and instead going to dinner was worth the risk of having an even longer line once we were finished. But as luck and perfect timing would have it, we practically drove straight on the ferry with full bellies and contented spirits after our leisurely and delicious meal.(Two ferries clear out a LOT of cars! And we highly recommend The Kingston Ale House.) May your happy trails be just as lucky. (Trail log below with more detailed info.)

You’ll need more luck to NOT see a bear than to see one on this hike!

Trail Log:

Day 1: Not even a full mile to Sol Duc Falls camp. Considering the effort it takes to get here and the fact I had to work until noon, scoring this permit along with the second night was critical. This is tourist central, so it seemed weird there would be camping spots at the falls, but there are. Skip the first site you come to within full view of the gawking masses, and continue to find some very nice secluded spots along the tranquil river. If you are going clockwise like us, you’ll backtrack just a little to go behind a no longer used shelter to start the loop.

You can have a fire at the river camps–and of course wine

Day 2:  13 miles to “Not Deer Lake” camp. We might have been able to make the full 14 we were supposed to do, but the wine may have caused us to sleep in a little  Had I known there are SO many unlisted camps, I may have tried to legally switch. But whatever this camp is called, we both decided it was quite superior to Deer Lake.

Okay, maybe we were already toast 

The actual Deer Lake next morning. Meh.

Day 3: 5 downhill miles to complete the loop. We made it out by noon and soaked in the hot springs which were way nicer than I expected. Costs $15, and they do have towels to rent for $4 each.