Tuck and Robin

This week’s hike was a comedy of errors from the outset. Pictures are here.

I decided to hike Tuck and Robin. I had done it before, but this weekend’s weather forecast wasn’t great and I didn’t want to waste a marginal-weather weekend on a new hike. My pictures from the previous trip were great, and I felt no need to improve on them. I figured if my pictures from this trip didn’t turn out it wouldn’t matter.

I got to the trailhead early and started out at a very slow pace, knowing what was in store ahead. The first several miles are nearly flat, and they lull you into a false sense of security, making you think you can go full-speed. That just wears you out. The last two miles of the trail are a nightmare of roots, rocks, gravel, and straight up climbing – sometimes with a trail, sometimes just scrambling up over rocks marked by cairns.

First error: wrong boots. I chose the boots for this trip because I wanted good ankle support. These boots used to work just fine for me, but for some reason they don’t anymore. Last time I wore them I got a blister, and this time was no different. The best thing to prevent a blister that I have found is duct tape. As soon as you have a hot spot, slap on some duct tape. However, I didn’t have any this time. To prevent a blister, I tightened up my laces and changed my pace. That hurt my ankles, but it was better than a blister. So now, my ankles are swollen and bruised.

The trail from the turnoff from the Deception Pass Loop trail up to Tuck Lake sucks. There’s really no other way to put it. It sucks out loud. As I said above, rocks, roots, gravel, straight up. I hate it. I got to Tuck Lake after seeing only two people on the trail. Tuck is a beautiful lake with a little island that looks like it should have been in Myst or Riven or one of the Lord of the Rings movies. It is a little barren and primeval while being lush and colorful at the same time. It looks a little unreal, especially in sunlight, especially since the water is so clear and so blue that you can see all of the rocks under the water and watch the fish. I stopped there for a break and headed up to the Robin Lakes.

The trail past Tuck Lake and Tuck’s Pot gives a nice preview of what the trail is like all the way up to the Robin Lakes. If you follow the trail closest to Tuck Lake, you end up climbing up, over, down, and around until you get to the logjam, which you cross to find the trail on the other side. Then you do some more climbing up and over and down and around, eventually with great views of Tuck’s Pot and Mt. Daniel, until you reach the end of Tuck Lake. That’s when you start climbing in earnest. It is about 900 feet of elevation gain from the end of Tuck Lake up to Lower Robin Lake. And it isn’t even a mile.

Up, up, up. Roots, rocks, handholds, footholds, up, down, around, through, follow that cairn, brace yourself here, haul yourself up with that branch, stick your foot up against that tree trunk while you jam your pack into that crevice for leverage and pull yourself up with your fingernails, don’t take that trail because it leads to a cliff, follow that cairn up there instead and then spot the next one. Eventually you run out of trail and all you have left is big, broken slabs of granite that you walk straight up. Not to the left – that gives a very difficult gully to climb down to get to the lake. Not to the right – that just leads to the end of the lake and adds time and distance. Follow the cairns up the middle. You see two really big cairns next to each other, like a gateway to the land of the cairns. After that, all bets are off. You can go any way you want to. Some of the cairns on the left lead to a trail that takes you down to Lower Robin Lake. Others just lead you around the end of the lake, which is great if that is what you want. Other cairns were placed for fun or some other inexplicable reason.

My welcome back to the lakes consisted of seeing the gateway cairns and a goat sticking its head out from behind a rock. Yay, goats! That is what I was hoping for. I climbed up the knob at the outlet of Lower Robin Lake, overlooking Cathedral Rock, Mt. Rainier, Mt. Daniel, Granite Mountain, and Mt. Hinman, and set up my campsite. The goats joined me shortly thereafter. I think I had 8 or 9 of them with me for a while.

Second error: For the record, that partly cloudy forecast was direly incorrect. There wasn’t a cloud anywhere over the Robin Lakes. But it was only in the low 70s, so it didn’t occur to me to put on sunscreen. You can guess what I’m leading you to. So anyway.

After the long and tiring trek up to the lakes, I was tired. I decided to whip up some chicken and rice for dinner. I boiled the water, poured the two cups of water into the freeze-dried food bag, and sealed it. I waited my 8 minutes for my lovely hot dinner. I opened up the zippered bag… and 8 or 9 little goat heads whipped around to stare at me. They could smell the salt. Uh oh. Two of the biggest goats stood up. They sparred a bit to determine who would dine on chicken tonight. The biggest one won and came at me. I backed away, telling the goat that good goats don’t eat chicken and rice, it is bad for their cholesterol levels and that goats are vegetarians and wouldn’t like my dinner. It didn’t work. Finally, the goat had me cornered and was about 3 feet from me, and like a moron I decided to treat him like a dog. I pointed at him and said “NO!” in a rather harsh tone. He blinked and gave me one of those, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me” looks and walked back to the herd and lay down. Hmmm. Interesting. Can goats really have facial expressions? Probably not, but that’s how I chose I read it.

As it cooled off, the wind picked up. The temperature started dropping rapidly. I watched the goats for a while, watched the lake for a while, and watched the sun setting for a while. I saw what I think was an eagle catching a fish and fly away toward the South. I read my book for a while and had a victory beverage. It got colder. And colder.

Third error: I made a stupid assumption. All of the other hikes I’ve done this year had temperatures above 60 at night. I assumed that this one would be no different. On the last several hikes, I took my North Face Blue Kazoo sleeping bag, which is good down to 30 degrees. Way too hot. So this time, I took my summer weight bag, good down to 55 degrees. The nighttime temperature fell to 41 degrees. I had all of my clothes on in my tent in my sleeping bag and I couldn’t sleep because I was shivering too hard. I was worried that I would end up hypothermic. Luckily, I was just very uncomfortable and ultimately undamaged.

I got up this morning and it was still in the 40s. I decided that I would not be staying another night because I didn’t have my good sleeping bag, and instead I would go visit the Granite Mountain Potholes after eating breakfast, then I would pack out. The Potholes are a little series of tarns just past Upper Robin Lake. I tried to light my stove to boil water.

Fourth error: your mileage may vary with stove lighting methods. I carry a lighter. Before each hike, I shake it to see how much fuel is in it. There was plenty. Today, I couldn’t get it to light. I think the flint was worn down, I don’t know. I had a brief panicky moment where I thought I would have to ask another camper for a light (so gauche, such a n00B move), and then I remembered that for the first time ever, for no discernable reason, I had packed matches! I dug them out of my first aid kit (Why there? I don’t know.) and got the stove lit on the second try. I had a nice hot oatmeal breakfast and started cleaning up the camp.

Back to the goats. The first time I was up there, they weren’t the least bit aggressive. They are now. I had them following me around regularly because they were waiting for me to pee. They want the salt. Yes, it’s gross, but that’s the way it works. I had to keep shooing them away. At one point while I was getting ready to go off to the Potholes, I was walking past a goat and her kid, and I was giving them plenty of space. And yet, she came at me like she was going to headbutt me, and then stomped her feet at me. I stomped back at her before realizing that I might be accepting some kind of a challenge, but she just gave me a “pardon me, I must have lost my mind for a moment there” look, and she left.

I headed for the Potholes. They’re pretty easy to find, but the trail isn’t exactly great. If you follow the trail around Upper Robin Lake, you see there are a number of trails. They eventually converge into one very narrow, steep track that drops straight down part of the shoreline, then becomes easier and heads up to the Potholes. However, there’s still quite a lot of snow up there. It is very hard packed and slick, so I gave up trying to walk on it and headed up the rocks to the left. You can follow some good game trails. It is an interesting little area. I think the flora is a little different from what is around the lakes, and it is very quiet. I could see no campsites, but there may be some under the snow. After wandering for a short time, I decided to pack out and I headed back to the campsite.

I got everything packed up and got the pack on my back. I turned to take one last look at the lakes. It is so pretty up there. I really love the area. I felt so bad about leaving so soon, but I will just have to go back someday. I miss it already. Away I went.

The trip up the trail to the lakes is bad. Going down that trail is even worse. You get winded and fatigued going up, but your joints take a terrible beating on the way down. I made it to Tuck Lake in about an hour, and my knees were bothering me. A short way past Tuck Lake, my right knee and hip decided they didn’t want to play anymore and they took their ball and went home. I struggled for a while, favoring my right leg, mostly using my left leg and relying heavily on my trekking poles. Eventually they came back to play, but they pouted the rest of the way down. Then my left knee decided it wasn’t happy anymore either. By the time I got back to my car, both my legs were pissed off, stiff, sore, creaky, and weak. Driving home was a great treat. I’m hoping they recover by Monday, but I may be asking for too much.

To sum up: stunning alpine lakes, glacier carved basin, mountain goats, wild flowers and heather, fantastic weekend. Did I mention mosquitoes? No? That’s because there were none! Make that a perfect weekend.

Deep Lake: July 15, 2006

No trip report just yet. Pictures are at http://community.webshots.com/album/552311123swTGdg

 

 

Yet another media frenzy

Two hikers, women, were found murdered on the trail to Pinnacle Lake this week. Everyone who knows me knows that I hike alone, so they are all freaking out. I'm not freaking out. Millions of people hike the trails here. Literally millions. Of them, three have been murdered. I have a better chance of winning the lottery, being struck by lightning, or getting attacked by a bear or mountain lion.

 

So this weekend, I'm going hiking. Alone. Miles and miles in the wilderness, on a trail that I am hoping is painfully unpopulated. And as always, I will be aware of every person I see and every noise I hear, but I'm not going to let it stop me.

 

I do so hope that they catch whoever killed these women. Their friends and family have been posting a multitude of messages at NWHikers.net and they sound like wonderful people. We have so few people who inspire so many, and it is such a shame to lose them. I don't hope that they catch the killer as much for my own safety and the safety as others as for the memory of two people who have positively touched so many.

"Do you guys wanna see a dead body?"

The commute was less than uneventful today. It was far too eventful.

I pulled into the parking garage and noticed two cops sitting across the street. I thought that was a little odd. Then I noticed that the garage was nearly empty. I thought that was a little odd, too. I saw people standing on the platform with the guards, so I figured it was just one of  those days when people were taking a later train or just not going to work. I heard a train whistle right about the time I was going to get out of my car, and decided that it would be prudent to take the skybridge to the platform instead of trying to cross the tracks, because I didn't want to get stuck on the wrong side of the tracks if it was a big freight train coming. As I walked to the skybridge, I saw a freight train parked on the tracks below. I thought that was a little odd as well. After reaching the platform, I found out what happened.

Yet another train hit and killed yet another pedestrian in Kent.

The big freight train that was sitting on the tracks was the train that hit the person. The person was crossing the tracks where there was no actual crossing, just South of Highway 18, and somehow missed the gigantic train with the blaring 110-decible horn and the blinding Cyclopean headlight bearing down on them at 30-50 miles per hour on the flat straight-away through Kent. (My tone may indicate to you that I think this person was a moron. You would be right to infer that.)

The freight train, naturally, had to stop. The freight train was so long that it was blocking at least two streets that cross the tracks, so I'm sure Kent traffic is something of a nightmare this morning.

The body, unfortunately, was under the train when it finally managed to stop 1/2 mile later. It was a very long train. They unlinked the cars near the body and pulled the engine forward so that they could get at the body, which was covered with a white sheet or blanket when we passed. Naturally, the Sounder train audience ooh-ed and ahh-ed when they saw it. Morning commuters love a drama.

Welcome to Thursday.

Jake Shimabukuro

Last night after work, I went with Ken and Brad to the Triple Door to see Jake Shimabukuro play his ukelele. I won't bother describing it, you have to hear it to get it. He's amazing. Try http://www.jakeshimabukuro.com/ and see if you can find a sample. There's also a clip of him floating around on the Internet somewhere of him playing a George Harrison song called "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" in Central Park. Not only is he a virtuoso player, he's fun to listen to between songs. If you have a chance to see him, go for it. You won't regret it, regardless of how you feel about what you know of the ukelele. 

 

I also highly recommend the food at Wild Ginger. I had the Vegetarian Squash Curry, and it was so good I could hardly stand it. The cinnamon bread pudding was pretty fantastic, too.

 

Good lord, that's twice in one month I've been out with other people this year. That makes... um... twice this year I've gone out with other people! Wow, I'm so popular.

Rachel, Lila, and the Ramparts

Did I go hiking this weekend? Why, yes! Yes, I did.

 

I had school on Saturday, so the moment I finished my final I was out the door and on my way to the trail. I started up the trail to Rachel Lake at 2:05 pm. Way too late, way too hot. There were lots of people there - the parking lot was full. I passed too many people to count, all of whom were on their way out. I got to Rachel Lake at about 4:00, which is pretty good. I did the first three miles in one hour, and the fourth mile in about an hour. That is one nasty mile of trail! There's still a bit of snow, but nothing difficult to deal with. I sat at the lake for a few minutes, ate an apple, drank some water, and threw the pack back on and headed up to Lila Lake.

 

The slope behind Rachel Lake is snow free, which is deceptive. The moment you reach the ridge, there is snow, and plenty of it. I followed the footprints of others, praying that I would not posthole through it. I didn't have any problems, but there was great potential for injury in a few spots. There were occasional bare patches of ground, but the snow patches got larger and the bare patches got smaller as I approached the lake. Still, I found a nice bare patch of flat rock to set up camp near a couple of the streams of snowmelt. I had a nice relaxing evening, watching the sunset and eating dinner, taking pictures of every little thing. There was only one other occupied camp that I could see, and they were on the other side of the lake. I went to bed around 9:00. It had been a long day.

 

I woke up at 11:00 with a big light shining on my tent. I climbed out to find out who the heck was waking me up. Oh. It was a nearly full moon. It was a very bright moon, with a crystal clear sky. I wandered around in the dark with my bare feet, enjoying the cool night air and the view of the mountains and lake. It was bright enough that I didn't need any artificial light to get around. I love that! It was about 60 degrees, so it was very comfortable. I was expecting it to be cooler with all of that snow.

 

I woke up around 5:00 and got up to have breakfast. I watched the sun rise and broke camp. Instead of leaving, I headed over to the Ramparts. I got to see not only whistling marmots, but whistling marmot babies, a first for me. Other than that, the only wildlife I saw was a few chipmunks and some deer footprints in the snow. There were lots of wildflowers in the bare patches. Again, lots of snow on the trail to the Ramparts but nothing challenging. The Ramparts are a beautiful series of glacier-carved lakes, all connected with little waterfalls and bluffs. I wandered around the lake basin, trying to get good pictures but trying not to walk through the billion or so occupied campsites. It is kinda limiting when you're trying to avoid waking people up or distrubing their breakfast. Eventually I gave up and headed out. On the way out, I passed another billion people on their way up. Because I started out so early, I probably missed a lot of them. I got back to the car at about 11 :15 am and headed home.

Fourth of July

In my inimitable style, I shunned the general populace on the Fourth. I have never been a big fan of the noise or drunken crowds of the holiday. I got up early and headed to work because I had a lot to do, and then left fairly early to head to Snow Lake.

 

It was cool and cloudy in Seattle when I left, but it was crystal clear and hot at Snoqualmie Pass. I headed up the trail at what is for me a blistering pace. I've done that hike so many times that I didn't bother to take any pictures until I actually reached the first viewpoint for Snow Lake. The entire basin is snowbound and the lake is still partially frozen. Like a moron, I made my way down the crusty yet half-melted snow to the shore to take a few more pictures, risking postholing through the rotten snow and breaking an ankle or two. At one point I decided to just sit down and slide for about 100 feet, which was great fun. It was hot in spite of the snow, and my shoulders got sunburned because I refuse to deal with sunscreen most of the time.

 

After wandering in the snow near the lake but chickening out when it came to crossing the big creek, I headed back up the slope, which was easier than getting down the slope but still a little tricky. After reaching the saddle, it was before noon and I decided to head to Source Lake, which you can see from an offshoot of the Snow Lake trail. I'd never gone that way before because I had seen a photo of the lake and was unimpressed. I don't know why I decided to do it on this particular day, other than that it was early, I had time, and I wasn't tired. Half a mile later, the unimpressive puddle that is the headwaters of the North Fork Snoqualmie came into view, as did the snow field at the end of the cirque, the back of Chair Peak, and multiple very impressive waterfalls that currently feed the lake and the river. It was worth the trip up just to see the peaks from that angle.

 

Pictures are here. http://community.webshots.com/album/551961445osrejn

 

After heading back home, I did some homework, some housework, and I ate almost half a gallon of some kind of ice cream that involved caramel swirls and chocolate-covered toffee chunks. I was hoping to get to bed early, but we all know that was a fantasy. All of my loud, obnoxious, disrespectful neighbors decided to set off illegal fireworks until 11:30 that night, so I woke up tired and feeling like crap at 4:00 a.m. Just to be a bitch and wake up my neighbors to get even with them for not letting me sleep, I set off my car alarm a few times. Vengeance is mine!

 

I think we all need to petition to move the Independence Day celebration to the first Friday in July. That way we all get a 3-day weekend and none of us has to get up early the next day.

A little jaunt into the wilderness

Yesterday I hiked the 11-mile round trip to Navajo Pass, at about 6000 feet. If you like up-close and personal looks at the likes of Mt. Stewart (at left), you should to this hike. If you like a raging river, open landscape, gnarly trees, wildflowers, hot hot heat, and a distinct lack of biting bugs, you should do this hike. Campsites? Check. Breeze? Check. Deer? Check. Plenty of water? Check. Stunning vistas? Check. Crowds? Unfortunately, check. There were 7 tents at the pass, and I counted 9 people on the way in and two on the way out. I suppose that isn't technically crowded... Anyway, nice hike, only 3000 feet of elevation gain over 5 1/2 miles. The trail is in good shape in spite of horse use. It is very pretty and very different than Western Washington hikes - it is litteraly barren in spots, particulary just below the pass on the South slope. It looks like the moon. I'll write a more detailed "trip report" later if I feel like it, but I have homework to get to.