June 2024

There were many great hikes in the month of June. But when I thought about which one I wanted to share, it was easy. I chose the most miserable. In fact, as I hiked this one, I started to grade the misery. By a third of the way through, I knew it was in my top 20 all time most miserable hikes. By half way through, that number dropped to top 10. In the last few miles, I had to concede that it was in my top 5 most miserable hikes ever. I am hesitant to truly say it was the worst ever only because I am often like a woman who gives birth. Anything unpleasant or painful in my life tends to be forgotten or pushed into a deep recess never to be thought of again. This tactic keeps women having babies and keeps me on the trail after a day like this one.

The week before this hike, when I was driving home from another trail adventure, I had decided to drive the long way on a bunch of connecting forest service roads. It was almost completely dark as I sped along in my trail truck eating jelly beans from a ziploc bag in my lap to stay awake. Suddenly, I slammed on my brakes and came to a screeching halt only to hit reverse and back up in the middle of the road. The great thing about forest service roads is you rarely have to share them with other humans. What I saw got me very excited. Right there on the left side of the road was a slender trail snaking straight up the embankment into oblivion. There was a tiny wooden sign with a number. I looked around and realized that this was not a normal trailhead. The road was a smidge wider right here so that maybe one or two vehicles could pull over on the opposite side of the road from the trail and not be side-swiped. This trail was a total mystery. I had no idea where it went or what it did. So I memorized the number, repeating and singing it the whole way home so as to not forget. I instantly knew that this mystery trail would be my next hike.

The problem was it was pretty much impossible to find information on this trail. I literally have hundreds of hiking books and despite an exhaustive search they didn't mention this trail. I searched online and found a tiny bit of info written over 12 years ago. What I learned is that this is a very unused trail. Most hikers don't like the challenge. I learned that it gained 5,000 feet of elevation in less than 5 miles of climbing. That is real steep in case you don't have a reference point. The one person who wrote anything about hiking it stated that they turned back after only a few miles complaining about how rocky it was. Eventually I found a hand drawn map with squiggly lines showing this trail and several others in the area. Upon studying this map I realized that I could connect 5 different numbered trails and 2 forest service roads to make a large epic loop hike. Of course there was one problem with that plan. This map of lines did not show me any mileage between the different legs of trail or elevation gained/loss on each. It was very rudimentary and would make the entire hike like a choose your own adventure.

Well, if you have learned anything about me by reading this blog, you know that this gauntlet of challenge that was now thrown at my feet could not be ignored. A trail choose your own adventure?? I mean come on!! Five thousand feet of climbing, unknown mileage, unknown trail junctions, rocky difficult terrain that no one wants to do....what could possibly go wrong? I drove back to the mystery trail with great anticipation. I mentally prepared for hard. I mentally prepared for steep. I guessed it would be maybe 14 miles for the loop. I had knee braces on both knees in preparation for the ascent and more importantly the descent. I was going ultralight, so that meant no book (gasp! I know), no hiker's quilt, minimal food and supplies. I was only carrying my tiniest 12 liter Osprey pack, but had my full camera kit with me. (My camera equipment usually weighs in at about 8 pounds depending on the lenses I bring). It all started off so well. So calm and beautiful.

There were several pretty streams to cross. Bright green ferns, firs and salal were everywhere. Moss and lichen were covering most of the tree trunks. Birds were chirping and all was peaceful. I breathed in deeply savoring every moment. This area is considered part of the great Dark Divide. The Dark Divide is the largest roadless area in Western Washington and is also an area known for Bigfoot activity. In fact I just ordered a book all about research and sightings of him in this area. I plan to read it on the trail, hopefully in the Dark Divide of course. After our first mile or so, the trail turned upward and started to slowly switchback and gain in elevation. "Here we go" I told Josie, very comfortable with climbing. I let my muscles lengthen and leaned into the trail increasing in speed and falling into our well practiced ascending groove. That was when the rocks started. It felt more like hiking up a dry stream bed than a trail. These rocks went on for miles. Every time I thought they couldn't get worse, they did.

"It's just like bouldering up on the mountains Josie. We've got this." I said confidentially. It of course took extra concentration to not twist an ankle or slip and fall. We kept climbing up and up. At first I thought it was going to level out after only about 3000 feet of climbing. But the trail was quite the trickster and just kept going. Now according to my hand drawn map, after gaining the 5000 feet of elevation, I should pop out onto a ridge walk before coming to a trail junction. With my measuring fingers and magical vision, I felt like the map was telling me this would occur after about 5 miles. This was not to be the case. We just kept climbing. That was the first way this trail started to mess with my head. After about 7 miles, we broke out onto a ridge walk and had our first views with the pikas screeching at us from between the boulders.

Never mind the dark clouds....the weatherman said to only expect light sprinkles. I have a love-hate relationship with all weathermen. If you are wondering why it seems so dark, I had decided to not start this hike until 3pm so I could stay out for sunset. That might have been a bad plan for this particular trail I will admit.

Now that we were on the ridge, I took a deep breath and told myself this is our time to enjoy ourselves. I love ridge-tops with expansive views! But after steeply bouldering and climbing 7 miles and over 5000 feet of elevation in about 2 hours, I was very sweaty on this muggy day and feeling rather drained. Every time I stopped to stare at the map, Josie the Wolf dramatically threw herself to the ground to rest. She acted like I was trying to kill her on this trail and kept glaring at me. "What??" I asked, "Everything is fine." The rocks and boulders were finally gone and there was a real trail across the ridge walk. But now that we were so high, the clouds started to blow in across us and the wind picked up dropping the wind chill significantly. All views were obliterated by the cloud cover.

We hiked faster assuming we would very soon be at our first trail junction. After more miles and no trail junction, I became a bit concerned. I kept rechecking my map and trying to figure out if we were somehow off course. My brain was starting to fear that we might have to go out the way we came in and the misery of that idea kept me moving faster down the trail to find a junction, stubbornly not wanting to turn around. Climbing up those rocky beds was one thing, but going down them in the dark would be foolish. As we reached the end of the ridge and started to descend, we suddenly hit my worst nightmare in that moment.....snow. There was easily six feet of snow packed in on the backside of this ridge and it not only covered the trail, it obliterated all signs of where to go. Every gap between the trees looked like it could be trail. We slipped and post holed and circled around and around in the snow trying to regain the trail. Since it was the end of June and I was going light, I had not brought my crampons in this pack, so had no choice but to slip and slide. Josie was finally happy and started to roll in dead things in the snow. We lost probably 30 minutes route finding lost in the deep snow growing in despair that this might turn us back. I feared that the snow would cause us to miss the trail junction we needed. Eventually, with enough tenaciousness, we found the trail again after about a half mile of snow (but realistically a lot longer in circling and searching). It took a mental toll on me during this time I will admit. My sweat-soaked base layer had started to freeze during this time in the snow with the wind pummeling us. I knew I should pull out the one extra layer I had with me, but didn't want to lose time, so kept moving, hoping our speed would warm me.

Soon we came to yet another ridge-line meadow that took my breath away. First off, I could see that the views to our north were of Mt. Rainier....only I couldn't see anything but his pantaloons due to the cloud cover. The most exciting thing however was that the entire ridge top was absolutely covered in a carpet of wild strawberry plants just coming into bloom. Now I run into every berry imaginable when I hike, and often eat my own weight in them on the trail. But I rarely, if ever, find the elusive wild strawberry. So I did what you would expect of me. I dropped to my hands and knees in the freezing wind right in the middle of the trail. Using my hands and a small rock, I started to dig up all the plants and runners that were on or encroaching onto the trail and would be stepped on by anyone else crazy enough to climb this path of doom. It was my mission to save them. I started to empty out one of Josie's saddlebags and filled it with the plants to bring home and replant in my special garden collection. This would be the best thing that happened to me the entire day. While I was digging, Josie took a brief nap looking toward Rainier, which was her best moment of the day.

The second best thing that happened on this trail came moments later when I decided it was time to eat supper and regain some strength. As usual, I hadn't eaten much yet all day and was famished. What was in this thermos was maybe the best thing I have ever eaten on trail! You see that morning I had cooked up a veggie burger patty and shoved it in the thermos with a bunch of baby dill pickles and a little shredded cheddar. It was still warm and all mashed together after our hike up to the ridge. Divine! I gobbled it down and shared with the Wolf.

After eating, while waiting for my second wind to kick in, we kept hiking. Miles churned out beneath my boots and there was still no trail junction. My brain was my own worst enemy telling me all kinds of discouraging lies about our situation. When I grew to a place close to despair within myself, I started to pray. "God," I said, "You know how we were talking about love earlier?? Well if you really, really loved me and wanted to show that to me, maybe you could make the trail junction appear now." I swear we only walked a few more steps and there was the junction. "I love you too!!" I shouted back to God while standing at a 4 way junction trying to figure out which way to go and seeing snow again in all directions.

It is a good thing that God is so patient, kind and understanding. He also has the best sense of humor, because while He gave me the junction, He wasn't going to make things easy. I kicked myself that I didn't ask for the junction and easy. We turned right (hoping it was correct after staring at my map some more) and fought through more snow. I anticipated this connector trail being fairly short. At first we were flying down the trail dropping fast in elevation, but soon we were encased in deep snow again. Inside I was screaming. What if we have to turn around from here I thought with deep discouragement yet again. I could feel fear trying to rise up inside me. "No!" I yelled making Josie look at me. "We can do this." I told her. "It will be fine." After struggling for some time and basically just hoping that we were still on a trail buried beneath snow, we came to what appeared to be another 4 way junction. There was so much snow, we couldn't really find trail signs. Josie dropped down into the snow and gave me one of her looks. She was not pleased with this hike. (Don't judge how dirty she is, the side of her face is black from the dead things she rolled in. I just let her be a Wolf on the trail.)

I stared at my hand drawn map some more, contemplating our next move. I finally decided to take the trail to my right and hoped like hell it was correct. This dropped us fairly quickly in elevation once again switch-backing down to where there was suppose to be a large lake according to my map. The sky was getting darker especially beneath the thick canopy of evergreens. But as we continued to descend, I spotted the lake in the distance and knew we were on the right trail. I cannot explain the relief to you in that moment. I realized that the mental ups and downs this trail was taking me on were as significant as the physical.

When we arrived down at the lake, it was starting to sprinkle and was almost fully dark. I pulled out my flashlight to try to read the trail signs. I grew very, very confused. You see the wooden signs nailed to trees in front of me contradicted what my hand drawn map told me. I was suppose to be on the trail descending more to the west, but the number I needed was now the trail labeled on the east according to the signs. Which should I trust....the signs or the map?? I paced and thought. Then I paced and rechecked every sign. I rechecked the map. How could this be? There were only three options....either the signs were wrong, the map was wrong, or these trails descended parallel to each other as planned, only to criss cross somewhere farther ahead not shown on the map. The cold rain started to fall harder as if to agree with my misery. If I chose wrong, it would mean miles more of hiking. If I chose right, I was suppose to be back to the truck within about 3 miles based on my best calculations (which had all failed up until now I know). I had already found that some of the signs were wrong on this hike and the map clearly was not perfect so there was really no good answer here.

I decided to believe the physical signs in front of me and took the eastern trail (which snaked in all kind of weird directions before settling in). This made me nervous and we increased our speed as the cold rains really started to pummel us. I suddenly found another small wooden sign stating that the forest service road I needed to loop back to my truck was two and a quarter miles further. "Yes!" I shouted and relaxed once again. That is nothing! Soon the trail I was on crossed another....yup, you guessed it.....that western trail did criss cross the one I was on. My map was wrong. I kept going, rather pleased with myself for all my route finding. "Take that all you hikers with GPS!" I said to no one in particular. I was going rougue as usual.

We soon found ourselves dropping down through a very deep ravine. Massive basalt walls hundreds of feet high caged us in right next to a raging river of snow melt. At times the trail was barely wide enough to walk on and cut into the rocky cliffs high above the river. The rain was turning everything to mud and slickening the rocks. We had to slow down so as not to take a dive into the river. We also had to slow down because we were really dropping in elevation now and my bad knee was flaring up despite the extra brace support. Soon I had to walk in my painful shuffle trying to not bend my left leg at all. This was almost impossible as the trail turned more into a steep slide going straight down. It was so steep in fact that a long section used boulders as stair steps built into a wall of dirt. The problem with this is the rocks were covered in water and mud pouring down the trail. We were inches from the drop into the river with a mossy basalt wall going right up along the side of us. It was pitch black and I had my head torch on. I had to put Josie behind me and very slowly descend while leaning back and keeping my right hand on each boulder step as I tried to lower us without slipping or bending my leg. Josie was having a hard time controlling her momentum here too and kept bumping into my back. It was truly terrible and my heart was pounding out of my chest by the time we reached the bottom of the "staircase". I realized how lucky we were that we were on this trail at night though. There was no way I could ever hike this trail with the Wolf if I ran into any other hiker on a trail this skinny with no room to pass. Anyone with vertigo, should never, ever be on this trail either! About this time I was wishing I was descending back on the original trail we came in on. This trail made that one look like a cake walk.

My heart and mind went down the rabbit hole of despair once more when I realized that the two and a quarter miles had passed about two and a quarter miles ago. Either that sign was wrong, or I was no where near where I thought I was. I racked my brain to figure out how I could have gone wrong, how I could have missed a turn. I started to question if the signs were actually wrong as to the trail numbers and if I should have taken the western one or if it was just the posted mileage that was wrong. All I knew was that something was very wrong.

The overgrown brush was so wet that they had now soaked my hiking pants all the way through and even my underwear were wet. I had finally put on my one extra coat, but my upper body was soaked all the way to my skin now as well. I could feel my core body temperature plummeting and I fought hard to not allow myself to start shivering. I needed to run to warm up, but my knee and the wet dangerous trail conditions would not allow it. I started to think about what I would do if we had to turn around and go all the way back now. I started to question myself as to what it would take for me to have to make another decision here and what my options were in this dark and unknown ravine from hell. Although I am sure in the daylight on a sunny day, this is a gorgeous secret place.

Let me just say that when your mind really starts to go, you are in trouble. I knew I was physically wiped out. I knew that I was wet and cold and had not eaten enough calories for what I was doing. But the discouragement was what was taking the real toll on me. The way this trail kept screwing with my mind was the real problem. Like Satan, this trail was the great deceiver and it was making me mad. Real mad. I needed that anger to get myself out. I gathered all the piss and vinegar I could to keep me going, pushing me onward. After what seemed like a lifetime, I hit a dirt road. I assumed this dirt road (because my map made it look real short) would be less than a half mile. Par for the course of the day, it turned out to be over a mile and a half. Then we hit the final forest service road that would lead to my truck. "Thank you Jesus!" I whispered, far too tired for more. A giant toad larger than my own fist jumped right across the road and almost landed on my boot. It got a little squeal out of me, and I would have loved to have picked him up to give him a little kiss (just in case he was secretly a prince you know). But my hands were far too frozen, and my knee could not bend. So I wished him well as Josie and I started to hobble down the "main" road. It was now about 10pm at night. I questioned if some crazy man was driving this forest service road at this time of night on a Wednesday if I would stick out my thumb to hitchhike. You better believe I would have. Although since I was wearing head to toe black with a black backpack, chances are he would never see me anyway. But I was growing desperate for heat and to stop moving. Alas, no one came along on that road through the middle of nowhere. Not even Bigfoot. (Although I did see two eyes glowing in my flashlight beam up high off the side of the road in some brush. They didn't move and barely blinked. They were significantly wider apart than a deer's head would be...but no, I did not investigate).

Once again, I figured it would be only a mile to the truck from what the darned map looked like. That was not to be so. It turned out to be another two and a half miles. Josie started to drag behind me. I had to give her constant encouragement to keep her on her feet and moving. "You are such a good girl Josie" I said. "You can do it. It is just a little bit farther. Everything is fine. I think the truck is just around that next corner." Over and over I would tell her this. Each time she would pick up her pace ever so slightly. I was shuffling forward with my arms held tight against my own body trying to conserve body heat. Eventually Josie stuffed her whole head tightly between my side and my elbow, leaning into my body while still moving forward. We walked as one. My eyes became her eyes and we moved as one wet, frozen, miserable body equally covered in mud and hair. Each step was the purest of misery. My left knee was on fire. I had pulled some sort of muscle in my right butt cheek on that staircase from hell, my feet were blistering and turning more into hamburger with each step. I was beyond cold. I was moments from giving up and throwing myself into the Cispus River alongside the road to die. I was trying to guess how many miles we had hiked, but my brain was frozen and could no longer think or make any decisions. I tried to find peace inside myself through the extremes, but really our resolve became just putting one foot in front of the other for the rest of our lives in our own frozen and private purgatory.

Then, there it was. In the blackness, my army green Nissan Xterra was just sitting there smiling at me. His big headlights were a welcome sight. I shuffled as quickly as I could up to him and gave him a huge kiss on the driver's side window. "Forget the frog," I told him. "You are my true Prince!" I stripped off my wet gear all the way down to my skin. I knew I was far too cold and clammy to put dry clothes back on my body. Instead I wrapped a big fleece blanket around myself and hopped in the driver's seat turning the heat and fan on high. Josie was already sound asleep in the back seat. I tried to find my thermometer, but could not remember where it was as my brain was just no longer switched on. I shoved food into my mouth and started to drink as much as I could knowing I was very dehydrated. Almost immediately my entire body started to shiver. This was not a small shiver. This was bone wracking violent shaking that I couldn't control. There was no way I could drive shaking like this. It scared me if I am being honest. I had the heat as high as I could get it, but even after 30 minutes, my violent tremors had only slightly lessened. Also, after 3o minutes I realized my fingers were starting to tingle painfully. Curse words bubbled forth as I realized how close to trouble I really had been in. I pulled out my pedometer and it had clocked us at just over 20 miles today. That is not our highest number of miles for a day hike by any means, but it surely was with that degree of elevation gain and with so many challenges.

As I finally drove home, and my brain was starting to thaw, I went into debriefing mode. First off, I prayed I would not get pulled over by law enforcement. It would be real uncomfortable to explain why I was driving naked wrapped in a blanket. "What have I learned today?" I asked myself. Well, first and foremost, I had confirmed that God still loves me, but will also let me lie in the beds I make. I once again realized that even the worst day on the trail is better than the best day in town with humans. The plan that no matter what happens, just keep moving forward and don't give up, worked yet again....on the trail and in life this works! I was reminded that sometimes the greatest misery gives true joy in the simple things....like seeing a truck and feeling heat. I learned that when I say "it's just a little bit farther", I am lying through my teeth. Then with a sinking realization, it dawned on me that perhaps the scariest thing I ever say is "It will be fine." Every time things are anything but fine, I apparently say this phrase. "Huh, who knew??" I said with this new bit of surprising knowledge about myself.

Upon further reflection, and trying to always see the best in every situation, I realized that I was thankful Nova was safe and warm at home and was spared this misery. She would have hated this trail more than I was. I also knew that the good thing about all the rain was it probably helped my new strawberry plants to live! I couldn't wait to get home to plant them. But I would not make it home until almost 3am after that long, slow drive. When I did arrive home, I found my husband peacefully asleep and snoring without a clue that his wife almost killed herself once again on the trail this day. He really should take out a larger life insurance policy on me.

I regret to inform you that two days after this hike (while I still could not feel warm) I started to look at maps of the area again. I felt this hike had defeated me and I didn't like that feeling. So I was on a new mission to go back and make another assault on this trail system. Don't worry, next time I will be attacking from the North to get to the lake. Wish me luck! Once again, I am very thankful that I have such a patient Father in Heaven! I will surely need Him. I can't wait to see what kind of trouble we get into.