When I think of this hike, I remember it as one of my favorite winter hikes! But it is also the hike where I broke more than one bone. It is still a favorite nevertheless! Let's just say I still can't sit down to this day without thinking of this adventure. Even though it was December, and this trail system is generally not considered hike-able until July, Nova and I decided to try a new plan to get to one of our favorite places. Not far from where I live, there is a mountain called Silver Star that I love very much. There are twin peaks here overlooking the west end of the Gorge. On top of one of the peaks, there are the remnants of an old Fire Lookout tower, so you know I am going to love that one of course. Some day I will have to tell you the story of when I spent the night on the foundation of this tower! On the other peak, there are remnants of old Native American vision questing pits, which I have indeed climbed down to sit inside and contemplate life. So you know I am going to love that one! The views are stupendous on either peak of course. For years, I had always come up the traditional trail to reach Silver Star from the South Washougal side.
Well I had been looking at maps and was pretty sure there was a way to make a huge loop of the trails in this area, starting at the same trailhead, but taking the Tarbell trail to a magical place called Hidden Falls, and then do a backdoor sweep up the North side of Silver Star near another unforgettable section called Ed's Trail. Looping them all together would be 16-18 miles depending on which sections I got on.
One of the things to know about Silver Star is that it is incredibly windy up there on even the most calmest of days. The day in December that we decided to climb her, there was a huge windstorm predicted that did not disappoint us. I couldn't wait to see what that was like! I knew I would find adventure if nothing else. When I arrived at the parking lot, there was not a soul or car in sight. Not surprising I thought on this blustery December day. We started out our hike meandering through the gorgeous forests to Hidden Falls. There are several sections through here that have been clear cut now and make me intensely mournful as I remember hiking the trails when the forests were still intact and they live forever in my memories. These ecosystems, once so full of greenery, lush creeks, immense trees with their dark and rough bark, sunlight filtering down to the forest floor as if through skylights, fir needles gently carpeting the switch-backing trail are things I will never forget. But as I hike these trails now, I can watch the forests recover and enjoy the wildflowers taking advantage of their new found sunlight. Within a few miles we reached down into the secret ravine that holds two rivers that merge together, one plummeting down to make Hidden Falls. Nova posed in front of it for the cover photo of this story. But in case you don't know where you are, someone left a nice sign.
After enjoying some special solitude at the falls, we headed up the trail, slowly switch-backing up while sunlight reached down to kiss us trail side. It was hard to believe it was December in this moment, except that it was still quite cold as we hiked. Nova was wearing her fleece lined winter coat with snood for this day.
As the miles churned out beneath our boots and paws, we finally reached the trail junction that I had been anticipating. There was a brief moment of intersecting trail systems, but I found the sign telling me that I was on target for finding my back door way to Silver Star Mountain!
This was my first time to go this way, but I have done it dozens more since then. Every time it has been different just based on the time of year and the weather. Sometimes you are drowning in Bear Grass and Indian Paintbrush, other times you are lucky to stay on your feet through the wind, and other times, the Fall colors take your breath away. But this was probably the hardest one of all. Maybe that was partially due to route finding and trying to figure out how what I pictured in my mind from the map was unfolding under my boots. Part of it was because it wasn't long before our climbing started to bring us above snow line. The wind hit us like a jack hammer and Nova needed her snood up over her ears to prevent frost bitten ear tips! I had every stitch of clothing on myself and pulled my hats and hoods tight around my face. However the wind made my eyes water fiercely and burned any exposed skin.
As we climbed higher and higher, the snow became deeper. But then the biggest challenge turned out to be ice along with the wind. The snow up here had clearly had the top layer melt in the sun and then immediately refreeze due to those frozen winds blowing across her surface. As the pitch we climbed steepened, it became harder and harder to walk without slipping on the trail that had become like a skating rink. We lost the trail several times in the snow and just used instinct to claw our way up the upper ridge line. Now that I have done this hike several times without the snow, I have learned that I was never very far off the trail as I did this, so at least my instincts were spot on. Finally I broke out onto what I knew was the North side trail, even though I had never been on him before. In the photo below that rocky wall along the right side of the trail was blocking the worst of the easterly blowing winds from us. That was a huge blessing, but I didn't realize how big until that ridge line sheltering wall ended suddenly and we were exposed to the full force of the wind intent on molesting us.
I was hiking with ice spikes on my boots that were barely pushing through the ice at all. (These frozen boot prints were from some some other lost soul up here when the snow was still soft and they never made it to the top. Nova and I didn't leave a single boot or paw print on the ice). I had a single trekking pole in my right hand, which was also doing nothing in the ice. I just could not get traction on the icy layer beneath my feet. When that sheltering rock wall ended and we were fully exposed, I was shocked by the utter fierceness of the wall of wind that blasted us. I didn't get to think about it long however, as it not only stole the breath right out of my mouth, but the wind literally bodily picked both Nova and I up off the ground. I started to flail my right arm swinging my trekking pole in full circles trying to reach some ground with it, but never could. I was swinging that pole in mid-air without touching anything. Nova was up off the ground to my left still attached to me by her leash. I could feel the sudden drag and pull of her weight against my waist. I was fearful that we were going to be deposited off the cliff side drop to my right as the wind was clearly pushing me from east to west flying through the air. But thankfully the wind released me as suddenly as it had picked me up. However, it cruelly dropped all of my 105 pounds with 25 pound winter pack onto my right side....right on my ribs. The pain was intense. I layed there just trying to get my breath and thankful I didn't fly off the cliff. I knew we couldn't lay there long as the cold was fighting us as much as the wind. I could feel frost bite starting on the exposed skin of my face. Nova was on her feet standing in my face to see if I was okay. "It's okay girl" I told her.
We slowly crawled back to our feet and started to try to continue our ascent. I think we only made it a few steps before the wind picked us up again, repeating the entire incident and dropping us once again on the ribs on my right side. This time I heard and felt the crack. "Nova, I just broke some ribs, how are you?" I asked. She came over to lick my face. We knew that we could not do that again. But if we turned around and returned the way we came, we would be faced with an over 24 mile hike and it was already getting close to sunset. So we did what any reasonable woman and dog should do....we crawled on our hands and knees for the next half mile in the ice until we got behind some shelter away from the wind again. I had never crawled on trail for that long before and it was a unique perspective. But it was at least effective, if not utterly exhausting. Once we were able to get to our feet again, I took a couple quick photos to commemorate the rib cracking. I will have you know my ribs hurt for many, many months after this, but we didn't miss a single weekly hike! KT tape is magic and I should own stock in the company!
Even with the light from the setting sun, you can see the sheen off that ice covered snow.
We continued to climb up the north side of Silver Star and back down her south side. The snow was deeper in that section and we were post holing so much now that the ice layer was gone, that I almost wished for the ice back. But we clawed our way up and up until it was time to do our descent back to the trailhead where our truck was waiting for us. The next sunset photo I took would be the last one where my tailbone was ever the same. Nova looked so peaceful not knowing what was to come.
You see, I made a very bad decision on our way down. I figured it would be better to just glissade the section and make faster time. I didn't have my trusty red ice axe with me, but figured I could use the trekking pole as my steering paddle. I wouldn't have a free hand for a flashlight (and did not have a head torch with me) and it had gotten dark quickly due to a stand of trees encasing us by the time we reached the steep run. We can night glissade I told myself. How hard can it be? All I have to do is make sure we don't shoot off the cliff side to our right. The run was so steep and along the edge of a heck of a drop off that I decided to put Nova behind me and take the lead for both of us, which I am glad I did. I was so focused on our speed and watching the cliff's edge as well as our trajectory that I missed a piece of a boulder sticking up through the snow in the darkened sky. My tailbone did not miss it, however.
I did feel it happen, but was going so fast that there was nothing I could do. Once we reached the bottom of that section and were back to hiking on our feet for the remainder of the night, I realized that I had broken off the tip of my tailbone. It has been three years now and it still goes back and forth from being a mobile chunk of bone that I can feel wiggling around in there to being tied up in scar tissue. It is a constant pain every time I sit down or lay on my back. But it doesn't hurt at all when I hike and that is what really matters I say. Sitting is overrated anyway. But I will admit that I have a special pillow on my desk chair at work to survive daily life. Here was the first picture I took with my new mobile tailbone to mark that occasion. All in all, it was a great hike and a great day. Wind like that was a once in a lifetime experience. Broken bones or not, it was totally worth it! Nova received no injuries I am happy to report! That is most important of all. Now I also have to tell you that there is something else about these photos that make me sad. You see that baby blue trekking pole? It had been on a lot of hikes with me....including this special one. Not long after this though, it was lost during a close encounter with a cougar clearly intent on eating me. (That will have to be a story for another day). But let's have a moment of silence for the beloved blue trekking pole! This is his sunset memorial photo!
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