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!

Wonderland Fail

Does anything feel worse than quitting? It’s a gut punch to your pride, and it always hurts. But, I do believe there are things that feel worse. Like setting up a tent in a giant puddle. Or pushing up a mountain for 10 hours in the rain while looking at nothing but clouds, even though you know you should be seeing one of the most scenic views in the world. At least I imagine those things hurt worse…I’ll never know, because I choose the gut punch instead. Sure, it hurt for a bit, but thank God I’ve learned not to let my stubborn pride bully me into unnecessary pain for the sake of saving face.

 I’m glad my friends have learned it too. They are a couple smart, strong ladies; and they don’t need to finish The Wonderland Trail to prove it. Though, we are all hoping to conquer those last 30 miles at a time when the weather is a little more cooperative. Until then, I will cherish the 7 days I got to spend trying to go all the way around the most wonderful Mount Rainier.

 If The Wonderland Trail is something you also want to conquer, this custom itinerary planner is super helpful. Link to Planner Or you can steal our failed agenda below. Leigh did a lot of work coming up with a perfect plan for getting the most out of those 93 miles, and it’s hard for me to imagine a better way to do it. Well, except for actually finishing. 😉

On a final note, I have to warn you that if you have a fear of log bridges like I do, this trial will force you to get over it. Too many bridges, of all kinds, for me even to count. Therefore, I am dedicating this poem I wrote to The Wonderland. There can’t possibly be a trail that deserves it more. Happy trails!

My Hiking fear

Is pretty clear

For those darn log bridges

Do bring a tear

I imagine a fall

Cause they’re all pretty tall

And breaking both my ankles

Would sure make me bawl

Just a handrail, please 

It brings such ease

And lightens those fears

That do love to tease

But if there isn’t one

A ford I won’t shun

But if the river I can’t traverse

I’ll creep across that log till I’m done

   LOG:

Day 1: (going counter clockwise)

3.4 miles from White River to Sunrise. Short miles to make up for the time it takes to drive to Rainier makes a lot of sense. Plus these are 3 very steep miles, so it’s nice to give your legs time to adjust. There will be many more tough miles ahead.

Day 2:

13.7 miles to Carbon River. These are varied miles, so it’s not as bad as you’d think. But I will say my feet hurt worse than they ever have after those last 3 miles of hard downhill.

Day 3:

6.4 miles to Eagles Roost. This may seem like a short day, but don’t be fooled. We didn’t get to camp until after 5. Besides being a long climb up, you will want to take your time because you’re in Spray Park. This is a detour off the official trail, but most people take it because it’s so beautiful. And full of bears. We saw 3 this day.

Day 4:

12.4 miles to Golden Lakes. After 2 miles you’ll come to Mowich to get your first food cache, which you’ll need to mail ahead 2 weeks ahead of time. I know it seems like a big pain, but it’s 100% worth it. This is a trail you really want to keep your pack as light as possible. I will also note that I think a 4 day trip from Mowich to Longmire would be a great way to experience The Wonderland without suffering too badly. Reasonable miles, great views, and no resupply shipment needed. Plus there are only a couple log bridges in this section, and they aren’t too bad.

Day 5:

7.8 miles to Klapatche Park. Stunning camp, though seeing a bear on the hill just across from where you’re setting up your tent is a little unnerving. At least all the camps have a bear pole or locker. Be sure to use them.

Day 6:

11.2 miles to Devil’s Dream. Saw another bear after a couple miles, though maybe it was the same bear, who knows. Still unnerving. And if the name Devil’s Dream makes you imagine a camp overlooking a cliff or something dramatic like that, be prepared to be disappointed. Nothing special about this camp, and if it starts to rain a lot, be prepared to wake up in a puddle.

Day 7:

Original plan of 9.3 miles to Paradise River, with a stop after 5.5 miles at Longmire to pick up our 2nd food cache and grab a burger and beer. We had recruited Heather’s husband into bringing our resupply instead of mailing it, and he was wise enough to make sure there was room enough for all of us in the car after seeing the forecast of nothing but rain for the next 3 days. We took him up on it. But not without getting our burger and beer first, of course.

Day 8: (if you are stealing the itinerary)

7.6 miles to Maple Creek. This appears to be some punishing downhill miles, so I’m guessing the shorter miles will be appreciated.

Day 9:

9.9 miles to Indian Bar. Many say this is the prettiest part of the trail…and the toughest to get to. Almost all uphill, topping out at over 5000 feet. I sure hope it’s not raining if I ever get to do it.

Day 10:

4.5 miles to Summerland. Again, this is claimed to be the most stunning portion of trail. Leigh was wanting a short day to take it all in.

Day 11:

6.9 miles back to White River. A nice, easy, short day out. Makes the long drive home not as bad. So smart. Someday it will make an amazing 4 day trip, and then we can claim to have finished The Wonderland…and actually enjoyed doing it.

Starting off wet…

Leigh needs to work on putting up her new tent.

No shame in stopping