A pleasant encounter after a rockin' (first) solo backpack
As per my last post, I often get annoyed at drivers on the road. So often they're obnoxious, oblivious or obstinate. But today, I had an encounter of the opposite nature that just tickled me.
As I drove out of Olympic Natl. Park earlier today, having just completed my first solo backpacking trip (more on that later), I was having fun speeding around the curves of the road that leads to Hurricane Ridge. As I came around one corner and approached another, a truck approaching me flashed its lights several times. My first reaction was to slow down, which I did, then wondered "why was that guy flashing his lights at me? Did he think I was driving too fast? Hm."
Well, my answer came around that next corner, where I saw a parked Ranger Truck clearly looking for speeders. And, because the dude in the truck had flashed his lights at me (which I now realized was a warning) I was going just over the speed limit -- not nearly fast enough for the ranger to pull me over. Had I not received that warning, however...it quite possibly could have meant a speeding ticket. And who needs that? So, as I drove past the Ranger truck with a wave, I couldn't help but giggle out loud and pumped my fist up in the air with a "rock on!" salute to the driver who warned me that a Ranger was around the corner waiting for speeders like me. Guy in the truck, whoever you are, you rock. I wish more drivers were as thoughtfully awesome as that guy.
That being said...as I mentioned earlier I just completed my first solo backpacking trip. AWESOME. is what it was. I had yesterday and today off work, and figured I should do something worthwhile, and decided to go backpacking in the Olympics, especially since I got a sweet new backpack for my birthday. Since nobody else was off, though, I didn't have any companions...thus the solo. After a couple recs, I decided to start at Obstruction Point, a short drive from Port Angeles, and head out to the Grand Lakes area via the Lillian Ridge traverse. I also wanted to check out Grand Pass/Grandview Peak, but decided I would probably set up camp before that point and then do a quick trip up and back.
So, I headed out from the trailhead right about 1130 after eating an enormous breakfast at The Haven in PA - veggie scramble plus one slice of their special autumn french toast, since I couldn't decide btwn the two options - which was totally delish. Good thing I was going backpacking, because I ate a lot. After filling my water bottle at the Hurricane Ridge Visitor's Center, I headed down Obstruction Pt. Road, which is decidedly treacherous at some points and I don't recommend if you have a serious fear of heights. After not too long, though, I got the trailhead and got myself ready to head out.
The trail heads up a nice little uphill stretch - just long enough to get the legs burning - and then cuts along Lillian Ridge with awe-striking views of the escalating mountains to the southwest and timber-filled Badger Valley to the northeast. I expected rain sometime in the afternoon, and the clouds didn't seem like they would let me down as they cast a thick wool blanket over the sky and the wind tore around the ridge.
After a mile and a half or so, the trail begins cutting down into Grand Valley, along steep talus-strewn slopes that made me glad I brought along trekking poles. Grand Lake came into view after another mile, and after a succession of switchbacks that brought me into a dark and cool fir forest and a couple small stream crossings I found myself at the junction above Grand Lake where I took a break before heading further to Moose Lake and eventually to Gladys Lake where I made my camp.
Gladys Lake is the smallest of the three tarns - small mtn lakes, often formed in cirques created by glaciers that carved out the mountainside and then left a lip in their wake as they receded - in Grand Valley, with a house-sized boulder sitting on the peninsula that extends into the middle of the tarn. Though adequately tired out, I kept looking past the first campsite to see what other options I had, and found a perfect little heather meadow nestled into the slope just on the other side of the lip that holds the lake. With a rectangular flat area on ground slightly higher than the dangerously tempting flat circular recession a few yards away (a bad idea, especially with rain in the forecast), which would become my cooking area, and a near-horizontal fallen tree suspended a good twenty feet off the ground - perfect for hanging a bear-line - I knew I had found my site.
I got some water boiling to make some miso to go with my peanut butter crunch Clif Bar (dipped in peanut butter - mmm) and got my tent set up, and just as I got my bear-bag hung the rain began to drizzle. Tired as I was, with plenty of day left to spare, I crawled into my sleeping bag to enjoy my miso, read a bit and take a nap. Disaster nearly struck when I knocked my miso cup onto the tent floor, but luckily it stayed in a constrained puddle long enough for me to slurp most of it up before it could spread all over (my tent is clean...right?). While I wiped it up pretty well with my camp towel, I had kind of broken the whole "no food in the tent" rule pretty badly...hopefully the rain and falling temperatures would keep the bears from snooping too closely? Hm.
At any rate, I awoke from my nap to discover that the rain had stopped (and that a deer and fawn were grazing outside my tent - hullo), so I grabbed the window of time to hike up to Grand Pass, another mile+ or so up the trail. My pack substantially lighter without my food, tent, sleeping bag, pad, etc., my legs nonetheless burned and groaned the entire way up. I made it to the top though, and a little further up to Grandview Peak (6670 ft), and was treated to astounding views of Lake Lillian and McCartney Peak to the southwest, Cameron Creek down in the valley to the south, and Grand Valley and another valley whose name I couldn't figure out (Lillian River Valley?) to the northeast and north. As the wind kicked up and clouds swept by around me at right about 6 pm, I gave a good whoop that echoed in the valleys and then made my way back down to camp.
The rain started coming down again just as I got into camp (sweet timing) and I got water going for dinner. Scrumptious. Just as it was getting dark, I pulled my headlamp out, which opened at the same time and I heard something roll down my pack and into the underbrush. Looking at my headlamp, I saw that two batteries were missing, so reached around in the bushes and found one battery pretty quickly despite the quickly receding light. The second, however, proved a rather different story. After a few minutes of poking around trying to feel it, I decided some light was in order. How ironic. The headlamp with a missing battery being my only light, and having not brought extra batteries (oops) I pulled out a lighter and used the small light from the flame to search around for that elusive battery. A good ten minutes later, it was still nowhere to be found. Well, I wasn't panicked - I could certainly feel my way back into my tent and into my sleeping bag, and didn't think I would need the light for an emergency hike-out. But it was only 7:45 and I wanted to read for awhile before bed. About to resign myself to the darkness, I had one last idea spring to mind and reached into my backtop to find that the other battery had fallen not onto the ground but into this pocket. Hooray!
Headlamp on head, I escaped the rain and read up on the Natural History of the Olympics for a couple hours while I warmed myself up. It was really hard to pull myself out of my sleeping bag and into the rain to pee, but I knew I wouldn't sleep well without peeing first. So, having peed, I wondered whether the rain would last all night, and whether enough would seep in through the seams I forgot to seam-seal to be problematic, and then went to sleep.
I awoke about 2:30 to discover that the rain had stopped, and poked my head out to see that, though a thin veil of clouds covered the just-past-full moon, it was still bright beyond belief and my entire campsite was lit in a pale and serene (and kind of spooky) glow such that I half expected wolves to wander through and break the quiet with their howling, despite wolves having been extirpated from the Olympics back in the 1920s. Needless to say, a really cool moment that was much appreciated before pulling back in and going back to sleep.
After sleeping in, I was glad to hear that the rain had not returned, and was even more surprised to find sun and blue sky above when I got out of the tent. Not that it was warm, mind you. The beads of rain from earlier in the night had frozen to the tent and the heather was frosted through the meadow. But seeing the valley in the sunlight was a beautiful contrast to the also beautiful shades of grey from the day before. So I made some tea and grabbed my siddur.
In order to find some sunlight, I took my tea and siddur with me across the stream nearby and davened shacharit in the crisp sunlight with a chilly wind occasionally blowing through. Interestingly, as I approached the Amidah I felt distinctly warmer between the wind calming down and the sun climbing higher in the sky. I walked back to my campsite humming nigguns and got breakfast water going.
While waiting for my food to hydrate, I did a few of my favorite katas and Mon Gon Teon (that will only make sense to a few of you) to loosen up and get the blood flowing, and chowed down before packing up camp and heading out. Saying a hooray inside for the continuing sunlight, I soon passed Grand Lake and turned northeast to head back along the Badger Valley trail to loop back to Obstruction Point. Following Grand Creek down Grand Valley before crossing over to Badger Valley and climbing up out the Badger Creek drainage, this trail is longer but less steep and stays lower for longer as it passes through thicker fir forests than my previous route. It also shows opportunities for some very cool water features on Grand Creek - ie the splendiferous waterfall I went off trail to get a good view of and the smaller drop-off into a brown-tinted pool that almost looked more like it belonged in Australia than in the Olympics, where I took a break and ate a chocolate brownie clif bar smeared with peanut butter and drizzled with honey on top. Backpacking lets you make such great creations.
Anyway, the legs were mad tired as I climbed out through the Badger Creek drainage, and while the sun was still shining here and there as the clouds opened (wow they move quickly) the temperature was definitely dropping and around 3:30 some tiny snowflakes whisped around me (apparently it snowed at nearby hurricane ridge). The final climb up to Obstruction Peak was a haul, but well worth it as I got to my car at 5 and chatted for a minute with an elderly couple coming up to see the view.
So, fully satisfied with my quick trip out n' around, I came back into town and chowed down a huge portion of phad thai, and am now chilling at the house in port angeles listening to Blake attempt to control the girls by talking to them like the girls he coaches in soccer - "Kris! A spoon and ice cream now or you gotta run a lap!" It's not working very well. Maybe someone should remind him that there really is a doghouse outside.
