Goat Peak Lookout

Not to be confused with Goat Peak which is by Chinook Pass, or Goat Lake on the Mountain Loop Hwy - the Goat Peak Lookout in Mazama (next to Goat Wall and Goat Creek) is an amazing landmark that up until yesterday had been lost to me within the goat named matrix of Washington destinations. 

It's always such a privilege to be invited along on a hike that you didn't have to plan, and so it was an easy "yes" to join the group of three other hiking enthusiasts (crazies) to venture over into Eastern Washington in search of sun...even if it meant setting my alarm on a Saturday for 5:30 am. 

 I did do a little reading before we left on this hike that I'd never heard of. One thing was clear - we should NOT expect to see a goat. Legend has it that they were all "slaughtered" in the 1920's, which of course became a hot topic of discussion (mostly dark humor, which I was thankful all of us shared an appreciation for) as we labored up the 2.5 miles to the 7,001 foot summit.

 The view at the top was worth all the effort, though not getting to go up into the lookout itself was a bit disappointing. (Maybe when it's actually manned?...Which sounds like still happens occasionally during fire season.) 

As much as the sweeping views of mountain peaks in all directions took up much camera time, the most photographed feature of the day turned out to be the outhouse on top. We contemplated posing for a shot inside - but considering the whole structure felt a sneeze away from going over the edge, we thought better of it. Dying on a plummeting toilet seat would be great fodder for some dark humor...but a bit too high a price to pay for a laugh, I'm afraid. (And speaking of outhouses, the one at the trailhead is quite exceptional, IMO. I'd highly recommend using it, and avoiding this thing ;))

There's only one ending to a day spent in Mazama (named after a type of goat, of course) and that is at the "town's" famous store. We couldn't help loading up with purchases of various items stamped with their classic goat trademark that celebrates the animal we never did see. Oh, and if the Taco Bahia truck is parked in the courtyard, don't miss out on the amazing fish taco's! Happy trails!!

Lake Ingalls Solitude

We had the lake completely to ourselves. If you are a hiker in Washington and have heard of Lake Ingalls, then you know what a shocking statement that is. Luck was on our side for sure, and in more ways than one. 

I had grand plans for this last trip before I had to return to work after the long Covid lock down. Why not go for something "big" and take advantage of being able to go midweek?  If I was going to tackle Lake Ingalls, then it made sense to hook it up with the end of Ingalls Creek (which I was unable to finish last time) and throw Long's Pass in there as well. A three for one loop sounded perfect. 

With my two girlfriends in tow, we made the turn onto Ingalls Way from the Esmeralda Basin Trail. I was excited to revisit this area, as it was where I did my very first solo backpack a decade prior. https://kellbell-whywouldanyonereadthis.blogspot.com/2011/09/my-first-two-nighter-alone-even.html

 

But right away everything felt different (amazing how 10 years can alter a place) and by the time we reached the sign directing you to Ingalls and away from Longs Pass, I realized I had things backwards in my head. The trail reports I had looked at took you up to Longs Pass and around counter clockwise, not clockwise as I imagined in my head. Though disappointed that we weren't going to see the amazing view I remembered of Mount Stuart at the top of the Longs Pass, I was thankful to clear the confusion in my mind.

 

My clear mind didn't last long, because within a mile from the left turn, the trail completely disappeared in the snow. Snow was expected, though this was much sooner than I anticipated. We were lucky there was one person ahead of us...though his declaration of "I don't know if I'm going the right way" was not a confidence booster.

Probably foolishly, we followed anyway, and thankfully the next thing we heard was, "I see the trail." And so it went for the next mile - a constant, stressful, "is this the trail?" search over many snow patches. Lady luck smiled again as Leigh opened her Garmin App in frustration (even though she had cancelled her subscription to her "In Reach") and found it actually still worked! 

[caption id="attachment_473" align="alignnone" width="1024"] Headlight Basin. A much steeper decline than it looks here![/caption]

It was a comfort to see we were indeed actually on the trail, until we reached Ingalls Pass to see the arrow point us over the edge into a vast expanse of snow. Getting down into Headlight Basin looked terrifying (where the camping spots are found) not to mention the sudden frigid temperature change that promised a miserable night. We could see the footprints to the left, skirting the basin and leading to the lake by way of a higher ridge line, but knowing that camping at the lake was not allowed, we were in a definite pickle. 

With another stroke of luck, we backtracked a little and found a perfect stealth spot - BARELY big enough for our three person tent. The rock face behind us gave some protection from the wind, and so we hunkered down for what we presumed would be a miserable evening. 

Except it wasn't. The wind died down, the stars came out, and we all felt quite cozy in our little cliff-side nest. Far from miserable - it was actually amazing. 

Not wanting to push lady luck too far, we ditched the loop idea in the morning, and did the mile and half to the lake without our big packs. Along the way, Mount Stuart was a constant presence, so any disappointment about not seeing him at Longs Pass completely disappeared. And leaving our heavy packs behind was such a good call, as Leigh slipped twice (even with her micro spikes on)...though thankfully she didn't end up sliding down too far. Melissa hopped across all the snow like a little bunny - with nothing but trail runners, gaiters, and poles - while I slogged along like a terrified oaf in my crampons. Different strokes for different folks, but we all made it to the lake and back to our tent safely. 

[video width="1920" height="1080" mp4="http://slowesthiker.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/20200618_111507.mp4"][/video]

From there you'd think it would be easy to just head back down the way we came.  And though we did find it easier...it was most definitely not easy. I can't emphasize enough how quickly you can lose a trail when it is partially covered in snow. So please, don't count on lady luck to get you to Lake Ingalls - come prepared - or wait until July... and then be prepared for the crowds.  Happy Trails!!

AND DON'T FORGET TO CHECK OUT MY BOOK ON AMAZON! LINK ON MAIN PAGE!!!

 

Mount Townsend Escapism

 

 "I can't believe the news today. Oh I can't close my eyes and make it go away." Of course, these U2 lyrics weren't written about the recent news, but the sorrow still rings true. And even though I can't make it go away, sometimes I do want to "close my eyes" by running away to be alone and surrounded by stillness - even if it's just for one night.

I had been eyeing Mount Townsend for a couple years. June is not a month with many options for escaping into the mountains (without an ice ax at least) so I was sort of saving it for the "perfect" time. With a weather forecast of party cloudy, and a world forecast that felt like doomsday, it seemed the right moment to cash in on Mount Townsend. 

The trail reports warned that this is a place to be avoided at all costs on weekends or holidays, so in addition to the other "perfect" conditions, I knew I needed to take advantage of what could be my only opportunity to go on a weekday. Feeling pleased to find just a few cars when I pulled into the parking lot after what felt like driving forever (the forest road alone will take you 45 minutes) I was not feeling so pleased to find that "party cloudy" was in fact "one giant all encompassing" cloud. Being this hike is ALL about the view at the top, I was sad to realize I had cashed in my one shot at Mount Townsend at the wrong time - but I was still happy to be alone and determined to make the most of it. 

 

With 3,000 feet of elevation in four miles, I was considering stopping at Windy Camp a mile short of the top...it's not like I'd be able to see anything anyway. Except I never found it. (I have since read you need to go left where a little sign is directing you to go right to follow the trail. I kind of figured that must be where it was at, but at this time, it is very obscured by snow.) Until the switchbacks stopped, I didn't even realize I had made it to the top, such was the state of the complete white out. I had read there were places you could put a tent on the ridge, but I could barely see 20 feet in front of me; so as soon as I spotted a do-able spot right next to the trail, I set camp. 

As I ate my dinner looking into the white, I hoped maybe I would wake up to something different. And though I couldn't savor beauty, I could savor the silence - which was eerily saturating. After hitting my sleeping bag early to get out of the cold, I decided I'd better pee one last time before I fell asleep. (If you are considering doing this as an overnight trip, be warned there is NO PRIVACY whatsoever. Thank God I was alone, because my butt would be out for all to see. Also, be aware you need to haul all your water up as well.) 

Tears came as soon as I unzipped my tent. Pictures can never capture what it feels like to be surrounded with such overwhelming beauty. It felt like I had hit the jackpot.

The four miles down the mountain took a third less time (three hours up, two down, for a total of eight miles) and today I have a body that hurts as much as my heart. It feels right and good, and I am incredibly grateful to Mount Townsend for all it gave me. 

 

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