That's right--I'm 40! How the F--- did that happen? And no, we didn't go to Glacier National Park--that's in Montana. Glacier Peak is one of the tallest mountains in Washington's North Cascade range and has a wilderness area named after it.
As always, my objective is to get up high--above timberline where there there's lots of granite, wildflowers and glacial lakes. To that end, I planned the first day to be long and hard, to get to the destination, so we could leisure it and enjoy the scenery for a few days. Loaded for five days, we set out up the North Fork of the Sauk River, pretty mellow at first. But two miles in, we crossed the river and started up Pilot Ridge.
The trail ascends unapologetically, gaining elevation at an astounding rate. Water sources are few and small this late in the season, so we filled up where we could and rationed well. We were tempted by a sparse campsite on the low end of the ridgetop, but the long hike to water kept us pressing on. Sweating and heaving, we only took a couple breaks on the 11.7-mile trudge, punishing ourselves for our late start. I did start to lag behind as we proceeded up the ridgeline as I found the mother lode of huckleberry harvests and couldn't resist the temptation to snack.
At about the point where we decided to rename the trip my "40th Birthday Death March," Scott said, "You know, Sherman, a lot of women just want dinner and a movie for their birthday." He even said he would have flown me to Maine for dinner at Conti's, this place that we sampled once and have fantasized about ever since. We laughed, but I knew the reward would be worth it.
We trudged into Blue Lake just moments before dark, dropping packs to scramble in different directions and quickly identify the best campsite. Then I set up the tent and our beds while Scott fired up the stove for drinks and dinner. We were well fortified on our hike with giant deli sandwiches we purchased on the way to the trailhead, so opted for the lightest dinner choice--curried couscous with raisins. Hot cocoa with Bullet Bourbon served us well as both apperatif and dessert. We watched the fog roll up the valley, settle into the cirque of Blue Lake, recede, then creep back in.
We slept until 8 a.m. when we heard a hiker calling to his partner that he was off the trail again. We had let Tucker out of the tent an hour or so before and worried that he was bothering people. Alas, he was just scouting the area for squirrels and eagerly came running for breakfast. Happy birthday to me! I opened most of my gifts at home, but Scott had brought one on the trip for me--a new Patagonia top that came in handy in the warm, sunny morning. We loitered around camp, marveling over the lake which we barely saw the night before. We even jumped in briefly (very briefly). By the time we had breakfast and packed up camp, it was 1 p.m. again, a now familiar start time for us.
Although the day would generally be an easy one, the start was a bear--a 1,000 climb out of the cirque on a steep, rocky trail, followed by a hairy descent on a narrow, loose, scree-covered and exposed slope. The view from the saddle was amazing, though! We all enjoyed a rest there, had a snack and snapped some pictures.
Once down the slope and back on the main trail, the hiking got easier and the scenery was just as rewarding as I had hoped. We hiked through the four-way junction of Dishpan Gap, then northward on the Pacific Crest Trail along Sauk Pass. You could see high peaks in every direction, for as far as you could see. It truly felt like we were far from anything. One of the most genuine wilderness experiences I've ever had.
We took advantage of an obscure stream for water and shortly after an irresistible meadow for lunch. Pondering the map, I surmised that we had traveled three miles in three hours! Time to get a move on.
The views and easy hiking continued for another mile and a half, then we dropped into and across a high valley, climbing back out of it toward our intended camp at Reflection Pond. Mostly in the trees until the junction right before the pond. Here we saw the first people we had seen all day--two climbers headed down from Glacier Peak and a Forest Service ranger completing her weekend patrol. It was nice to be out on Sunday night when all the weekend warriors are safely home.
Reflection Pond sits in a saddle between the Sauk and White River valleys with exceptional views in both directions. The sunset behind Sloan Peak was riveting! The stars were bright and clear. For the second night in a row, we watched the fog roll up the valley, climbing up the headwall into our saddle. It receded again, and again settled in for the night.
We had at least an hour to spare before dark this time, but still split up camp duties. Dinner was pasta with homemade pesto and sundried tomatoes--which I could not find and though I had left at home. So just pasta and pesto. And cocoa or hot tea with more bourbon as we toasted 40 years.
Reflection Pond sounds quite romantic and sits in a scenic locale, but in fact is a stagnant breeding ground for mosquitoes and offers little privacy from the trail. So instead of a total layover day, we agreed to move camp two miles to White Pass, the originating point of the day hike I had planned. Despite the best intentions of rising early, it was after 8 by the time we started hiking. Tucker nearly revolted--he whimpered a little when I lifted his pack from the ground, but relented and saddled up. But the two miles went by quickly, with well maintained, level trail. We saw several marmots--big hoary marmots, not the smaller yellow-bellied ones I know from Yellowstone.
Just before White Pass, we met a couple from Michigan who had just vacated camp there. They were doing our loop in reverse--apparently rangers discouraged people from going the way we went due to the lack of water on the climb. In the end, we preferred our direction since it gave us a short, easy day at the end when we had to drive home.
With camp newly established in the basin below White Pass, we set out on an afternoon dayhike to Red Pass. The round trip was less than five miles and reaped so much more than that in scenery! From Red Pass, you have a clear view of Glacier Peak and Disappointment Peak, the White Chuck glacier, and a spectacular glacier-carved valley that invited wandering in for days! Originally, I had wanted to scramble along the ridge crest to several rocky peaks along the way, but we were tired (I'm 40 for crying out loud!) and Tucker seemed a tad overheated. It wasn't a hot day--maybe mid-70s--but with little shelter from the sun, the small but steady climb had taken its toll. We enjoyed the pass for an hour or so, then headed back to camp slowly, letting Tucker rest in the few shady spots along the way. He even laid down in a shallow stream--a sure sign he was hot since he hates water! In the warm afternoon, we voted to save fuel by having our bourbon with Tang--not a bad drink that my neighbor later informed actually has a name--a TicTac.
The next day, we would move four miles, dropping 3,000 feet back into the river valley to camp at Mackinaw Shelter, a rustic lean-to in the dense, virgin forest floor. Reluctant to descend out of my alpine paradise, I wanted to spend the morning in camp, relishing the place before hiking out mid-afternoon. The morning was blessedly overcast after the previous day's baking sun and we had our first rain of the trip. Clouds battled blue sky for several hours until an afternoon thunderstorm reminded us it was time to go.
The trail down was necessarily steep, but gentler than the climb up. We dropped off the ridge and into gradually deepening forest as the thunder rolled and the lightning flashed. Close enough to scare Tucker, but far enough away to savor. Down in the woods, we stayed almost completely dry.
Mackinaw was our first campfire of the trip. The well placed fire ring an abundance of wood seemed to insist upon it. We were joined by Zach, a climber turned back from a solo attempt at Glacier Peak in the thunderstorm. We down miso soup and macaroni and cheese while he had freeze-dried mashed potatoes. And the last of the bourbon with hot tea.
Day five was an uneventful hike out (if you consider an encounter with rude horsemen and hiking through piles of horse shit uneventful)in the shade of the forest,crossing several small streams and descending gradually to the car. Tucker jumped with joy when we hefted our packs; he seemed completely recovered and eager to head out. When we arrived at the car, I imagined him spotting his cozy bed in the back and yelping "Praise L.L. Bean!" I think he thinks we went to live in the wilderness but ran out of food and had to come home.
