Adventures in Wonderland: Day 6, Five Silent Miles

Mirror image at St. Andrew's Lake

Guide books warned of small rodents eating through your backpacks to get to whatever they might find enticing. Because of this, we kept our packs in the tent with us. This led to cramped quarters as the tent was of the two person ultra-light variety. The cramped quarters was one of the factors that led to a sleepless night. The other factor was numerous itchy, red, mosquito induced bumps all over my arms and legs. Several times throughout the night I woke up already scratching myself and couldn't get back to sleep as I tried many positions to get comfortable. Finally I maneuvered my body around so my feet weren't touching my pack. Once I did that, and after fifteen minutes or so of scratching, I finally fell back to sleep. By the time I woke up around 8 am, Emily was already packed up and eating breakfast.

Today was to be a short hiking day, just shy of five miles, so I planned on taking my time. Lying there with my eyes open, I reflected on our trip so far and speculated on what was to come. Finally, my belly urged me out of the tent to boil some water for oatmeal and coffee. As soon as I sat down on a log and got my stove out Emily gave me the news that she would be leaving on day 8 when we reached Mowich Lake. The disappointing news struck me as a painful rejection. A good friend was planning on meeting us at Mowich Lake to bring us our second food cache and now Emily planned on going home with him. This was quite a blow to my mental state and a dark cloud hovered over me.

I tried to convince her to stick it out for two more days, but she admitted to not feeling well and was insistent on going home. I was outwardly upset and inwardly angry and frustrated. I felt like it didn't matter to her that she would be leaving me out in the wilderness alone for two days. Still, I tried to put myself in her shoes. To be away from the comforts of home when you aren't feeling well is no fun at all. Nonetheless, I ate in silence trying to imagine spending the night out here by myself. I convinced myself that I would do it. My lack of humility could not allow someone else to determine my success in completing this hike.

I took my time eating and enjoyed a hot cup of mocha. In every day life I need my morning coffee, but I have never enjoyed it as much as I did on those chilly mornings up on the mountain. Finally, I packed up and we headed out....in silence. 

The first 3.5 miles were a non-stop ascent. It was strenuous but methodical. One foot in front of the other...once I got in a rhythm it was difficult to stop even with sweat dripping down my face. One of the most useful things I packed for this trip was a highly absorbent sports towel. It clipped to my pack and hung there always ready to wipe the perspiration that stung my eyes. The best feeling was when we soaked the towels in an icy creek and draped it around our necks to cool down.

Thankfully the bugs weren't bad as we hiked higher and higher. Before long we reached a plateau where we met two elderly women; Janice and Shirley. They reclined on a group of large rocks and with a twinkle in their eyes they informed us that the big one was named "Lunch Rock", hinting that we should have a seat and rest. We took off our packs and chatted with them for quite awhile. I felt like I was conversing with the person I wanted to be when I am in my seventies.  Fascinating and humorous, they told us of their many prior backpacking trips together and their planned one for three weeks from then to the Appalachian Trail. I was intrigued as I listened to what lie ahead for us (they were traveling counter-clockwise). It turns out they were heading home early because they believed that they had contracted food poisoning.  I felt I needed to hear it from them in order to feel more empathy for Emily, so it was good that our paths had crossed.

We ate our lunch as they told us how to deal with bears; by clicking our trekking poles together, especially around blind corners. So, you know it, the rest of our hike was punctuated by the sound of Emily's clicking trekking poles. I was reminded of the old movie, Parent Trap, with Haley Mills. The twins in the movie tell the unwanted fiance of their father that hitting sticks together will ward off the attacks of cougars. It was all an attempt to make her look like a fool.... Foolish or not, to my disappointment we saw no more mammals, of any kind, for the remainder of our trip, save a chipmunk or two. 

Before Shirley and Janice parted ways, they supplied me with some blister care items for my battered feet. They were such pleasant people I could have chatted with them all day. I was sad to see them go, but I believe I was somehow a better person after having just met them, a mark we should all strive to leave on those whose lives we touch, no matter how briefly. 

So far in this day we had been seeing more people than in the previous days, and with the tension between Emily and myself, that was a good thing. I struggled with my thoughts toward her and even prayed for the grace to cheerfully accept her choice to leave.

The clouds rolled in the higher we climbed. The hiking got easier and the terrain was definitely of the sub alpine type; flowery meadows, fir and hemlock that had been gnarled and twisted by winter snow. Soon we reached the crystal clear St. Andrew's Lake. Large boulders made for a good resting place, but I was happy with a patch of soft grass. We sat for quite awhile at the lake's edge knowing we were pretty close to camp and it was still so early in the day, about 12:30 pm.

There we snacked and watched a foggy cloud encroach upon us. Our views of the still, mirror-like lake began to become obscured. A thicker cloud rolled down off the mountain and settled right on the lake in front of us. Had we gotten there any later we would never have been able to see the majestic and silent lake that was flanked by snowy patches. A chill filled the air and we decided to continue on to camp. 

Nearing camp, we approached a large group of hikers who were wishing they were almost done hiking for the day. We chatted with them at Aurora Lake for a short time. The lake was teeming with pollywogs and mama frogs watching over their young. We observed the amphibians for awhile and after saying goodbye to the hikers we reached our camp in just 200 ft. A slight mist began to fall and we wanted to set up the tent before it became too wet. The sites were very nice and had it not been raining we would have had a great lakeside view. But all around us was foggy because we were, quite literally, in a cloud.

Emily hung our food and I crawled into our tent hoping to find warmth. The day was still young, but I settled in for a nap and set the alarm on my phone for dinner time. Despite the unsettling news of Emily's desire for an early departure, it was a good day full of friendly people and beautiful lakes.

Pictures from Day 6:

The sky might have been dull, but the meadows were a lit in a rainbow of wildflowers.

So. Puyallup River

The weather changes so fast on the mountain, here the clouds began to roll in.

St. Andrew's Lake moments before the clouds blanketed its beauty.

St. Andrew's Lake

Aurora Lake, just before our camp at Klapatchee Park was teeming with frog children and off to the edge of the lake sat the mamas. This made me think of my kids.

Camp was set up quickly to stay warm.

Biding our time inside the tent.

Adventures in Wonderland: Day 5, 8.5 miles

Looking back on this day, it was one of my favorite days of the hike, but probably the day that changed Emily's mind about the outcome of our journey. It was certainly a pivotal day for me in that I realized my feet, with a little tender loving care, could, in fact carry me the rest of the way.

The sun rose early but we didn't stir for quite awhile. The very idea of getting up and hiking kept us in our tent longer than usual. I moved my toes around in the bottom of my sleeping bag. To my surprise, they felt so much better than the previous night. When we finally emerged from our tent I was relieved that walking was not as painful as it had been.

With nothing more than a Lemon Zest Luna Bar for breakfast, we headed out of camp. Before getting too far we filled up our water bottles at the silty Pyramid Creek. The water was cloudy and a bit gritty but we purified it and it tasted fine.

The trail started out uphill and we didn't stop hiking uphill for three and a half hours. The bugs nipped at us every chance they could even through our clothing and I was helpless without bug spray. (Although, I'm convinced that the mosquitoes and flies around Rainier are immune to the stuff) I was thankful for my head net. In fact, I don't think I would have enjoyed much of anything without it. Earlier on during our trek we saw a woman in full body mosquito gear, a net covering her whole body. I am ashamed to admit that I snickered under my breath at the excessiveness of it all, by this time, however, I wanted one of my own!

The scenery was monotonous as it didn't change from the shadowy forest setting for the first half of the day, but after awhile the trees opened up to flower-filled meadows and high alpine shrubbery. In the sunlight the variety of flying insects were highlighted as they busily flitted this way and that. The bees bounced from wildflower to wildflower fulfilling their God-given purpose, while the flies and mosquitoes flew aimlessly looking for their next meal, and the butterflies adorned the path with their array of color and gracefulness.

As we approached Indian Henry's Hunting Ground, we saw a sight that I had been hoping to see from day one; a young black bear leisurely meandering along the edge of a pond that separated him from us. We stopped in our tracks and pulled out our cameras. He wasn't very near but near enough to enjoy the sight of him without fear. This filled me with joy as I had been a little disappointed in the lack of wildlife thus far. I must add here that earlier that day Emily told me that she had been praying that we wouldn't see a bear, which prompted me to silently pray a Rosary in hopes to see one. There was a brief moment where the bear looked up and our eyes met before he jaunted off into the woods in the opposite direction.

Not a very good picture, but proof of our bear sighting!

 The low hum of insects became our background music and now that we were out of the shade of the forest and into meadows and sunlight we were constantly attacked by bugs. Flailing arms and trekking poles would have been a hiking hazard to anyone passing by too closely. Nearly the entire day, however, other than each other, we saw no one. A few hundred feet before reaching Indian Henry's, amidst the hypnotizing hum of bees and the quiet rhythm of our footsteps, I was jolted to full awareness by Emily wailing the alarm of one under attack. I turned around, my heart racing, fearing the worst.

"Something just bit me!!" she shrieked.

Her hat and head net already lying on the ground at her feet, I figured the 'something'  must have just bit her on the head. Sure enough, a fat bee flew out from her head net unscathed. It had stung her on the forehead. Frustrated at the unprovoked attack of semi-venomous creatures, Emily seemed to me to be unable to thoroughly enjoy the rest of the day.

 At Indian Henry's Hunting Ground, (or should I be politically correct and call it 'Native American' Henry's Hunting Ground?) a big open meadow gave way to an amazing view of Mt. Rainier's summit. At one end of the meadow sat an old patrol cabin - the oldest in the Park that is still in use, since 1915. This day, however, there were no rangers on duty. We sat on the benches on it's front porch and ate our lunch. As I sat there I imagined seeing the meadow in it's heyday.

According to Hiking the Wonderland Trail, by Tami Asars, this area is rich in history. To the west was Mt. Ararat, named by Ben Longmire who wrote,

"I named it because I found there some long slabs of wood that had turned to stone and I thought they might have been part of old Noah's boat. I also found a stump with a ring around it as if his rope might have been tied there. It was all stone." (quoted in Dee Molenaar's The Challenge of Rainier)

Indian Henry's Hunting Ground itself comes with its own stories. Two pioneer explorers are said to have first encountered a friendly Native American man in 1862 near Mt. Rainier. When they asked his name he said what sounded like, "Sotolick." As legend has it, since that name was too difficult to pronounce the pioneers decided to rename him Indian Henry. History has it that Indian Henry had recently had contact with Jesuit missionaries and might have been trying to say 'Catholic', but the truth belongs to Indian Henry himself.

The patrol cabin at Indian Henry's Hunting Ground

What is known is that Indian Henry had three wives, a successful farm and a log home. He spoke broken English and three different Native American dialects. This area of Mt. Rainier, where we sat at that point in time, was once actually used by Indian Henry for hunting, grazing his horses and cattle, and picking berries. Among the Native Americans and pioneers alike, he was deemed quite wealthy.

Meadow view from the patrol cabin's front porch.

It was easy for me to get lost in imagining this place bustling with the activities of so many years ago, but the bugs found us and just sitting there we became easy targets. The trail ahead was flat and meandering and soon began to descend back into the forest. We were glad to be in the shade once more where the incessant biting wound down. The path was smooth and easy going but the downhill angle caused misery to my feet! In the distance we could hear the rushing sound of a very fast river and off and on we could see views of the swiftly flowing, muddy brown river; Tahoma Creek.

At last, we came to a place that was on my summer bucket list last year: Tahoma Creek Suspension Bridge. I never got around to checking it off my list last summer, but now was my opportunity to do so. Approximately 150 feet long and more than 200 feet high, this massive bridge spans the angry Tahoma Creek far below. I have a passion in my soul for suspension bridges. There is just something about being suspended in the air by a swaying and bouncing bridge that thrills me to the core. A cool breeze flowed off the Tahoma Glacier and down the path of the river. It blew my hair and rosied my cheeks. I could hear nothing but the rumbling of the river far beneath my feet. We took our time and many pictures. This was yet another 'favorite' moment on the Wonderland Trail.

Tahoma Creek Suspension Bridge

The thrills of our fifth day were far from over. After the bridge, we climbed a relentless 3.2 miles up, up and up! The scenery moved from forest to volcanic and sub alpine terrain. We were among the few fortunate people that day to take in the view of Success Divide, on the flank of Rainier and the rocky and barren moraine of Success Cleaver above the divide. Just slightly to the northeast was the rocky Glacier Island, tucked between the Tahoma and the South Tahoma glaciers looking like a large, stone, crumbling tower.

Tahoma Glacier

As we approached Emerald Ridge we discovered the reason for it's name; a green grassy meadow provided the perfect spot to stop and take in the surrounding views. The odd view of the mountain from this angle made Rainier seem decrepit, ancient and fragile. The summit seemed only an arm's reach away. Coming around the corner of Emerald Ridge we were greeted with another breathtaking view of the glacier carved landscape. A bright orange rocky 'scar' was left behind from the retreating glacier over so many years ago and it surrounded the muddy South Puyallup River. Mountains were visible from every angle. Being there provided one of those moments when you feel the overpowering sense of insignificance. Not in a negative, but a comforting way. The feeling of being so small that all the problems in our lives that we perceive to be huge seemed to lose their importance. This was God's country and right then, to me, it felt as though He held us lovingly in His hands.

Rainier from Emerald Ridge

Rocky and  barren moraine of Success Cleaver

Walking the narrow, crumbly path near Emerald Ridge.

Beginning the descent to South Puyallup River Camp

From there we began the excruciating decline to the South Puyallup River Camp where we would stay the night. The ground was rocky and unstable, the worst stuff for blistered feet and mine were beginning to tell me they wanted to be done walking for the day. We moved at a snail's pace making sure each step was stable before moving the other foot. Eventually, not far from camp, we reached a clear running creek and filled up our water supply.

At camp, we took the first available site, #4. The most difficult hike of every day is when you reach camp and then have to hike the little trail to your site. When we first began hiking the Wonderland Trail we were picky, but this day we would have been happy to set up our tent in the middle of the trail and call it good.

We unloaded our gear and with great anticipation I began to make our long awaited 'half-way to the end' celebration dessert of cardboard soup "banana cream pie". It sounded so good but tasted so bad! My appetite throughout the hike had been unusually low but this destroyed it altogether. While cleaning our dishes we could hear the distant sound of thunder. This made Emily very uneasy.

I usually like a good thunderstorm but I'll admit it was a little creepy, especially as the storm drew closer and closer. Each clap echoed off the rocky walls of the mountain making it all the more intense.  Emily's anxiety grew and soon she was talking about going home....now!! The wind began to blow and we both crawled into the tent. Between the wind, the thunder and Emily worrying about the trees falling on us, I thought I'd never get to sleep. We laid there listening as the storm came closer. I began to grow uneasy and asked Emily if she wanted to say the Rosary with me. She did.

I wasn't surprised, as I have full confidence in the power of God and the help of His Blessed Mother, but I was amazed that as we spoke the final prayers of the Rosary, the thunderstorm had passed and the wind died down completely. On top of that the sun shone for the last hour of daylight.

I thanked the Good Lord for this day and fell asleep scratching the numerous bug bites that covered my arms and legs.

Emily snapped the first picture just as a mosquito found its dinner, my smile in the second picture hides my incredible urge to itch!

Disappointment dessert

Creek near camp where we purified and filled our water supply.

Glacier Island

Adventures in Wonderland: Part Two, Day 3, 10 miles

"It's not enough to be busy, so are the ants. The question is: What are we busy about?"

-Henry David Thoreau 

Leaving Indian Bar was difficult because the beauty of our surroundings compelled us to want to stay forever. The sun shone on our tent and we were engulfed in the tint of green light. The color of the tent was the same color of the moss that adorned the evergreen boughs that speckled the hillside we camped on. The sight of the sun's light was deceptive to one hoping for warm morning air. Outside it was cool and crisp.

My second night's sleep was restless. I woke several times wondering what time it was and once on account of hearing some nocturnal animal in the near vicinity. Breakfast left a lot to be desired. It sounded so good: scrambled egg hash with peppers, onions, sausage and potatoes. It was of the freeze-dried variety and eating the eggs was like eating sponges, the rest was a watery soup-like texture that was hard to stomach. Emily had oatmeal and I envied her like never before!

Before we left we filled up our water supply at Wauhaukaupauken Falls, then we began the steep ascent on a 'staircase to heaven'. Stairs made from dirt and logs led us out of the valley as we climbed and climbed and climbed into the surrounding hills. We stopped frequently to turn around and let the view permeate our spirits. All around we saw evidence of those mountain goats I saw the night before, but this day we saw none.

Upon reaching the top and entering a beautiful meadow, we were treated to 360 degree views of Mt. Rainier, the Cascades and the jagged teeth of the Tatoosh Range. The air smelled of wildfire, however, and a haze obscured our view of the gaping peak of Mt. St. Helens. The wildflowers were in full bloom though and were such a joy that we stopped for a break to soak in the beauty. In the distance we could see how far we had come and Indian Bar Valley was merely a speck in the grand scheme of mountain bliss.

Slowly we began our descent into high alpine meadows that led into a few trees, soon into low alpine forests and eventually, after what seemed like forever, we began to come into forests with trees that rose far above the shady, forest floor. We hiked in silence. My mind wasn't silent, however. I found myself, as I'm sure Emily did, making ways to help the miles pass by more quickly. Praying the Rosary became, for me, a way to make every painful step seem manageable. "Hail Mary...full of grace..." the words were like a metronome helping my legs keep pace to the music of my own breathing.

Aside from prayer, I thought a lot about my children. Around every corner I pictured them bounding off the end of fallen old growth cedars, hanging from endless branches and poking their noses in the holes of rotting trees that could be none other than abandoned gnome homes. Although I was thrilled to be accomplishing a long held goal, I missed them like crazy!

Before long, we reached the Box Canyon area and Stevens Canyon Road. Civilization!? It was an unexpected sight. As it turned out it was a popular place for people visiting the Park for the day and as we emerged from the woods we both felt like indigenous forest people. Here were people well dressed in their slacks, khaki shorts and Hawaiian button down shirts. They were stepping out of their sports cars to take pictures of the deep waterfall and scenic overlook. In contrast, we were dirty, stinky and carried everything we needed to survive on our backs. Some people definitely looked at us with question marks in their eyes.

Looking into Box Canyon from the bridge.

For the most part, we ignored the crowd and made a beeline for the "Comfort Station" as it was appointed by a brown and white sign. Without going into detail, it just felt so good to sit, I didn't want to leave. It also felt great to wash my hands. I was beginning to understand how spoiled we are in our daily lives that these little things seemed like such great luxuries. Leaving the 'comfort station', we felt halfway human again and it was easy to make eye contact with people. One woman in particular, Marcy, was facsinated by our journey thus far and wanted to know every detail. She drove an RV and lived an adventurous life in her younger days. She even offered to give us a ride to wherever we wanted. We showed her our pictures, thanked her, and told her we were set on walking the whole way. We then crossed the road and disappeared into the woods once more.



The Wonderland Trail passed through Box Canyon itself, or rather, over it. We stopped on the bridge and gazed at the Muddy Fork Cowlitz River that raged over one-hundred feet below us. The fascinating part is that the canyon was no more than 25-40 feet wide making it quite a deep, narrow slot that continued for a quarter of a mile. Just on the other side of the bridge we wandered off the trail into the scantilly treed woods that sat right at the edge of the cliff. The roaring water gave us a soundtrack for our lunch break that day. I plopped my pack down next to me and sat on the bedrock. Emily declared I was too close to the edge and refused to join me so near the drop off and so, lost in our own thoughts, we enjoyed a solitary meal. My lunch of German sausage, fruit snacks, and nut mix never tasted so good. I ate my food and drank my water in silence, the loud river below flooded my thoughts.

Time for food and reflection at Box Canyon.

Once again my kids came to mind, this time I was glad they were not there. I would have been a nervous wreck with them sitting anywhere near where I was at that moment. My feet dreaded the inevitable fact that we had to keep going, and my body screamed, "NO!" as I heaved my pack back in its place.

After hiking another 1.5 miles we came to a sign that pointed to Maple Creek where we would be camping for the night. It said only one mile left! We were beyond happy and so ready to be done walking for the day.

Along the way we ran into some women who were out for a day hike. They were excited to talk to us and hear all about what distant hiking was like. I felt like an imposter. Here it was only the third day of my first backcountry backpacking trip and people were asking me what it was like as though I knew what I was doing. Yet, every mile, every turn was something knew and I was learning as I went. Nonetheless, we answered their questions and exchanged joyfull conversation but it was when they offered us fresh, cold cherries that they won a spot in our hearts forever. Never were we so grateful as we were then!

That "mile" was the longest mile we'd ever walked. We were both convinced that the sign was wrong. At last on the southeast side of the Wonderland Trail, we reached the buggy lowland river camp. We were so exhausted that we stopped at the first site available, site #2. Then we decided on #3, but after being attacked by biting flies we settled on site #4 which was sunnier and overlooked a small meadow. As it turned out, there were tons of bugs here as well. We set up the tent as soon as possible making sure to be careful not to let the bugs inside.

Neither of us could stand our own stench so we decided to head down to the creek to bathe and clean our laundry. Maple Creek was freezing but Oh! so refreshing. The sun warmed our backs and the cold water numbed our blisters. Once everything was cleaned with biodegradable, Ph neutral citronella soap we laid our clothes out on rocks to dry. We sat on the rocks, feet in the water, and flapped a towell across our shoulders back and forth to keep the hungry flies from landing. We talked, imagined, and laughed until our stomachs hurt and our eyes watered. It was beautiful and one of the most enjoyable experiences so far.

Back at camp, the dang bugs swarmed! We hung all of our clothes or laid them on rocks to dry. While making dinner, Emily noticed that my pants looked like they were crawling with flies. It turned out they were crawling...with ants! This had to have been my worst nightmare. I am quite seriously myrmecophobic...inexplicably fearful of ants! I think it's the very thought that all the ants in the world outweigh all the humans, not to mention the uncanny intelligence for such small brains....it's just a thing to be feared, trust me. And at that moment, hundreds....no exaggeration, were crawling on my pants! Ants IN MY PANTS!

I kept my distance and prepared to leave my pants right there for some pant-less backpacker who would appreciate them. As we ate, the constant army of ants marching over my pants just a short distance away, we noticed that soon they were completely gone! Perplexed, we moved closer to figure out where they went. They were completely gone! We couldn't believe it, and yet, I still wanted nothing to do with the pants. Dinner complete, we began cleaning our dishes when what to our wondering eyes should appear?!!! Thousands of ants climbing back onto my pants this time each one with a small white larva in tow!!!!! Now fear was replaced with fascination. We inched our way closer and even tried unsuccessfully to get the whole escapade on camera. We crouched down and watched until, just as before, the millions of ants were out of sight!

When they were gone again, we stood there dumbfounded. It would be my luck that of all times an entire society of ants would choose to move their nest it would be the time my pants lie in their line of pheromone! After that, I hung my pants on a tree branch overnight in hopes that they would be creature-free by morning.

We locked ourselves in the tent by 6:05 pm. I wrote in my journal and fell fast asleep.

 

Pictures from Day 3

Amazing view from the Cowlitz Divide

Hazy skies fom a wildfire somewhere near the Park

Taking in the view at the Cowlitz Divide

Sunbathed Maple Creek

Hiking the steep trail near the Cowlitz Divide

 

Sun shining on the Mouse on a Stick wildflowers.

The Wonderland went along Stevens Road under a tunnel near Box Canyon.

Definitely one of my favorite wildflowers in the Park!

 

Wildflowers adorn the foothills of Mt. Rainier