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.