Completing Ingalls Creek...Almost

Ingalls Creek is open! After having had just a little taste a few years ago, I have been hoping to someday come back to complete it. As I scanned Washington Trail Association’s website to see what might be a “legal” hiking option for Memorial Day weekend, the recent backpacking trip report on Ingalls got me very excited. Even if you had to park your car somewhere besides the lot, it confirmed that dispersed camping was allowed. I did notice the hiker’s narrative made it very clear that THEY had followed ALL the rules…unlike those OTHER people:

“We had a lovely time except for the groups of day-hikers (that were clearly multiple households hiking together) who refused to strategize 6′ foot passing zones on Sunday, didn’t pull up a mask when passing, or even feign to respect Covid precautions.”

Wondering what it would look like to “feign” being precautious, I was a little concerned everyone on the trail would be grumpy Covid enforcers and I’d get yelled at for doing it wrong. (I simply face away from the trail when letting people pass. Continually trying to “strategize” a six foot passing zone on a tight two foot wide path throughout a six hour hiking day was not going to happen–I was sure of that.) 

My friend and I (nope, not family…yep, we were already “those” people) were sure not to park directly in the lot as instructed–though parking along the one road leading to the lot did not feel all that precautious to either of us. (Maybe we were just “feigning” it?) We had our buffs at the ready to pull over our faces if anyone gave us dirty looks. (It’s true that neither of us are very convinced that wearing masks while outdoors is very helpful…though, we don’t want to make people uncomfortable either. And certainly, neither of us would EVER confront or tease someone wearing a mask. Being rude is never helpful.)

So many beautiful wildflowers

I have to warn you, whether you love it or hate it, the fact is that 99% of the folks we encountered on our three day adventure did not pull up masks, but just gave a smile and a nod and stepped aside when being passed. We did the same. Whether we are all being irresponsible or not, that is the current situation. Leigh and I tried to make up for being such bad citizens by picking up trash along the way, which I’m happy to say was very little. Since this was a longer trip, you can find the more detailed itinerary below if you are interested. Happy trails! 

Day 1: Mid-morning start on Friday, arriving around dinnertime at an amazing site right on the “creek” (more like river this time of year) which was roughly nine miles in. We thought we might stop at the large site at the Falls Creek intersection at six miles, but we were hoping for something with more sun, since the weather was so amazing. From there, everything was taken, and we were a little worried we missed our chance. On the way out on Sunday, we saw there were actually several sites we simply didn’t see that were now occupied. EVERYTHING was taken in fact, which is understandable considering the holiday.

Day 2: A lazy start, as it was SO freezing (literally…I ruined my Sawyer filer by leaving it out) but once the sun hit our spot it warmed up quickly. The trail from here on up is a MESS. It made us wonder how on earth they are able to clear it all up every year, or if this portion has been neglected for some time. We left our stuff at camp and made it the three and a half miles to THE VIEW (so much better than either of us expected) and then the extra half mile to the Longs Pass intersection where snow was starting to make the trail difficult to follow. Maybe I’ll be able to finish that last mile and half another time. Some nice sites up there if you can make it that far, but navigating through that obstacle course with a full pack (we of course only had light day packs) would be quite the challenge. We saw one guy fall off a log from about six feet while trying to maneuver over a particularly bad jumble of fallen trees. He seemed fine (though clearly mad as a hornet) but the thought of how easily he could have been impaled by a broken branch made us travel even more carefully. Plus, upgrading our pretty pathetic first aid kits seemed something wise to consider for next time. After between seven and eight hours of hiking, we got back to our campsite around dinnertime again.

Day 3: After another leisurely morning, we said a sad goodbye to our lovely spot and hiked the nine miles back to the car in a much better time. (Four and a half hours I think?) The burgers at Heidleburger were amazing as usual. 

Skagit Sauk-Reach Trail

  

Before anyone gets mad, let me first say I confirmed this trail was open before I went. I’m trying hard to “stay home and stay safe,” but sometimes you really need a little outdoor therapy when facing a pandemic. Five years ago, when dealing with the much more common winter blues, I noticed a sign across the road from Rockport State Park after finishing the loop there. I determined I needed to come back someday to check out this mysterious “Skagit Sauk-Reach Trail” — and yesterday was the day. 

Except when I looked up “Skagit Sauk-Reach Trail” I found it was at the Howard Miller Steelhead Park instead of Rockport. Weird…but knowing the parks are only a few miles apart, I figured it must be one and the same with different access points. 

After parking at the open to the public day use area, I walked all the way through the currently closed Howard Miller Steelhead campground to the very far end where the obviously signed start of the trail was. The sun was beginning to poke out, so even the “recent cougar sighting” sign couldn’t keep me from getting my trail therapy in. Though I did worry my current “sitting on the couch most the day watching EVERYTHING on Netflix” athletic shape would keep me from getting in the supposed eight mile loop in…but still, I was determined to try. 

Not a very helpful sign

What I discovered is, first of all, this is not exactly a loop–and second of all, it’s not eight miles. Of course, I probably did it wrong (no surprise there) but I’ll tell you what I observed.

You start with a pleasant mowed path that leads you to the river. There are several of these paths, meandering and intersecting through the open area, none of which I explored much because it was obvious they would not add up to anything close to eight miles. I needed to focus on finding the “real” trail. It wasn’t hard to find the more road-like walkway (quite mushy at this time) which quickly morphed into a much more intimate feeling path right along the river. This section feels almost magical, with the trees dripping of witches’ hair moss and making it seem as if fairies have decorated everything with nature’s tinsel. Sadly, it doesn’t last long.

The river is trying hard to claim the trail back for itself, and the couple hiking ahead of me turned back when it became too thin. I forged ahead, but the magic ended when the trail finally intersects again with the boring road-like walkway. I suppose you could keep going if you wanted to get in eight miles, but my Netflix body was fine with turning around. (Maybe five-ish miles total? You can continue on the road-like path all the way back to the entrance of the park, which would make sort of a lollypop loop I guess, but I would for sure never call this hike a loop.) 

Washing away

I stopped at Rockport to look again at the sign I saw five years ago and found this:

Am I losing my mind? Maybe they changed it. Either way, now I have to come back again and check this one out. Maybe during the next pandemic. Happy trails!

Dosewallips River Road

May is not the easiest month to find a backpacking destination. But by the time it rolls around and spring has fully sprung, the itch to get out there is at a near lethal intensity. Additionally, there’s a Mother’s Day card to play if you’re a mom like me, which means being able to coerce at least one kid to come with you is a good bet. So with those motivations prompting me, I was determined to find something good. 

My daughter, Amber, agreed to come, and though she has been a great sport for several hikes – I know that hiking is not really her thing. But camping is! So I looked hard for a nice compromise.

Dosewallips River Road Trail could not have been a better fit. It used to be a drive up campground, until Mother Nature claimed it as her own. Now you have to hike in, either 2.7 miles to the first camp, or 6.5 miles to the bigger campground. (Which actually has an abandoned Ranger Station.)

With my daughter’s boyfriend in tow, the three of us set off to see how far we could get. There’s a part of me that always wants to see it all. I have the “fear of missing out on something” syndrome  – so I was campaigning to get to the end. The vote did not go my way. 

 

 

As soon as we made our way through the first apocalyptic campground (Elkhorn) and found the place nearly full, I was talked into calling it quits. Best to play it safe and grab a spot while we could. After setting up and still feeling not satisfied to stay put, I talked them into a little exploring.

Following the less defined trails into the woods while searching for ANYTHING dry we might possibly use as firewood, we came upon a very cool looking little cave. As I was trying to get down to it for a better look, Chuck warned, “That looks an awful lot like a bear den.” Exploring time suddenly came to an abrupt end. (Sorry, I didn’t even get a picture, we hightailed it out of there so fast.)

The bear lives just beyond these trees

In lieu of disturbing bears, we decided to raid the few remaining unclaimed campsites in hopes of finding something in the fire pits we could possibly use. Nothing but ashes. Knowing how badly we wanted to make a fire, and how impossible it would be with the sopping pile of branches that was as yet our only fuel, we made our way to the final unoccupied site with our fingers crossed. And there, like a bag of gold, lay a dry stack of beautifully dry store bought campfire wood leftovers. We had hit the jackpot.

Time to light this f*#%er up! Even with our fire starters, it wouldn’t have happened without our dry wood plunder

Having the rest of the day to sit and play cards, talk, work on the fire, play the ukulele, and generally just enjoy our time together, I realized something important. Life is not always about chasing what you might be missing out on, but enjoying what is right in front of you. Happy trails.  

Happily staying put

An no trip to the peninsula is complete without a stop at Fat Smitty’s

Artist Point Snowshoe

Is it just me, or do you always have something you feel you need to redeem at REI? They are masters at “giving” you money so that you go and spend more money…money you probably shouldn’t be spending. I know this…yet I fall for it every time. I may be cheap, but my cheapness includes a “I can’t waste this” category that ends up costing me far more than what I’m trying to save. They have figured me out…damn them.

Though, they did save me from wasting my money on Costco snowshoes. My friend, Leigh, had gotten some for Christmas and wanted to test them out at Artist Point. I had some sort of $30 offer at REI, so I used them on a rental. At the end of the day the lesson was: if you are going to snowshoe, use real snowshoes. And I’m sorry, anything under $200 is not going to cut it. (Unless they are used…which is probably your smartest move, actually.)

Look how Leigh is widening her stance to try and make me look less short. Sweet…but it’s not working 

Anyway, the lowdown on this hike is pretty simple. Drive up to the old Mt. Baker Ski Lodge (the farthest one up) and go to the farthest end of the parking lot that you can. The bathroom at the end–that’s where you start. If you want to avoid starting your day waiting in a ridiculously long line to pee, find a way to pee beforehand. I won’t tell you how I did…but I will say, where there is a will, there is a way.

 

Then you follow everyone else. Really. On a scale of 1-10 in popularity, this place ranks in at a 10. I’m quite sure that unless it’s a white out blizzard, it won’t be a problem. Unless you have crappy snowshoes…then the problem will be just trying not to cuss them out. (Though I will add to please follow the MAIN set of tracts. Don’t follow tracts that are going off to who knows where, unless you know what you are doing.) 

Also, 4 miles round trip may sound easy, but it feels twice that in the snow. You may want to quit early, but pushing to what is obviously the end is worth the effort. After seeing the many tents set up for what looked like a glorious night, I may even return. After I find someone who will loan me their expensive snowshoes, that is.  Happy trails. 

Cheers! Oh, and don’t forget to go to the home page and buy my book. I’m going to have to say that every time now, darn it. But a girl has got to make a living if she’s ever going to afford good snowshoes!

Railroad Bridge Park is for Cheapskates

 

A ferry is always my favorite way to get to a trail

If you are headed to the Olympic Peninsula for any reason at all and you love to be on a trail, you are going to try and squeeze in a hike if you can. You’ll scan hiking websites for something you can fit into your schedule, and then realize that all the good hikes are within the Olympic National Park, which requires its own special pass. Then, if you are anything like me, you will face a dilemma.

So here’s the thing with the hiking pass system in our state – for a recovering cheap ass like myself, it’s a lot to handle. But let me tell you something; if you are going to hike at all in a national park, then you should just bite the bullet and buy the $80 America the Beautiful Pass that covers everything. (Which I should have done when I already paid for a pass to hike on Mount Rainier…but instead I cheaped out and got the one that was only good there.) Otherwise, you could be just a half hour away from an amazing hike like Hurricane Ridge, but because you can’t stand the thought of forking out another $30 when you already spent $30 for the Rainier pass AND $30 for your annual Forrest Pass, you refuse. And that will be a sad moment, I promise you.

But if you find yourself in that conundrum, or you are just in the Port Angeles area and looking for something to do, I can recommend a hike that doesn’t require any pass. Just a few minutes off of Hwy 101, the Railroad Bridge Park is a great place to spend a couple hours. 

Or many hours, considering it’s part of the Olympic Discovery Trail; an ambitious project that is 80 miles done, with 60ish miles left to connect Port Townsend with La Push. Yes, you’ll have to share with dog walkers and bikers, but that is part of it’s charm. Though it’s biggest charm is the Dungeness River Audubon Center found right there in the parking lot. What a fun little gem. 

SO many birds at the Audubon Center…though none of them alive 

Dead…but still cute

Or, if you prefer a beach vibe, you could choose the Dungeness Spit, which is just a 20 minute drive away. No pass there either, but instead a $6 entrance fee. Even a recovering cheap ass like myself could swing that. (For a story about the full hike to the Lighthouse, click here) Happy Trails!…and don’t forget to check out my book! Link is on my home page 

Dungeness Spit

 

Getting Stuck in the Hole in the Wall

 

So, I’m going back in time to my last backpack of 2018 (New Year’s Eve, to be exact) since I never had a chance to write about it. This trip was about needing to say goodbye to the wonderful year I celebrated being a half century, and even though I had already spent over two months on the trail, I felt I needed one last hurrah in my tent. (Get the book about my trip on Amazon )The problem was finding a trail in December where I didn’t have to deal with snow. Thankfully we are blessed here in Washington with the wild ocean coast – where anyone can go (after getting a permit at a Ranger Station first) anytime of the year, and stick a tent up pretty much anywhere they want. I wonder how long it will be before that changes. 

But for the time being, if you get a hankering to be in your tent in the middle of winter, and want to avoid the hassles and crowds at Shi Shi, (which you can read about on my old blog here) Hole in the Wall at Rialto Beach is a great place to be. You can self permit at the trailhead if the Mora Ranger station is closed, but be sure to have your own bear canister. (They are required along the entire coast, though more for raccoons than anything.) Then it’s only a little over 2 miles to the famed hole…but half way there you’ll first need to get across Ellen Creek. 

Beach hikes are all about the tides, so check here before you go. (http://kaleberg.com/tides/lapush/index.html) A low tide at Ellen Creek means a quick crossing of 25 feet or so in ankle deep water; a high tide means scrambling over what looked to me to be a real pain in the ass jumble of logs. (In case you didn’t already know, log crossings are not my favorite.) Plus, if you don’t hit the tide right, you won’t be able to make it through the hole – which is kind of the whole point of this hike. I guess it is possible to go up and over on an impossible looking trail to the side; but that way didn’t look fun in the slightest.

I know I said you could set a tent up wherever, but I have to admit this was much harder than I expected. There were more options before passing through the hole, but I loved the idea of the hole “closing” so I could have complete solitude. Without really having a good idea just how high the tide would come up (something I probably should have paid attention to when I was looking at the tide information) I wanted to be extra careful to choose a spot that would not include being washed out to sea. Thankfully I found one, squeezed in between the drift logs.

When I watched a fellow hiker make it through the hole the next morning, I figured the tide had gone out enough for me to make my departure. What I didn’t figure was that it’s much easier for someone to climb up wet, slippery rocks without a pack, than for me to go down them with 30+ pounds on my back. So, after barely being able to pass through the hole without taking a dip, I still could not make it down to the beach on the other side. Not wanting to risk turning around on the ledge I really didn’t like going over in the first place, I found a place on the rocks to sit (for almost an hour) and wait for a few extra feet of less steep rock to become exposed as the tide continued to recede. Trying my best to enjoy the crashing waves, it was difficult to ignore my mind’s ominous imagery of a rogue one dragging me to my death. That would not have been the ending I wanted for 2018.

Though an adventure with solitude, mixed with some fear and excitement, was the way I wanted to say goodbye to one of the best years of my life – and that’s exactly what I got. Thank you, Rialto Beach. Happy Trails!