Pinnacle Lake
07/29/2006

4 Miles round Trip
1100 Feet Elevation Gain

Pinnacle Lake Trailhead

Backpacking, Hiking, Camping, or the REI garage sale?

Well, due to the lack of tent space and weather forcast for Sunday, Callie and I went to the REI Alderwood garage sale. I picked up a couple pairs of pants and a filter for Callie. The filter is pretty cool. You just fill the bottle, and the water is filtered as you suck it out of the straw. She was really excited about it, so I used it as a motivator to get her to go for a hike. "Do you want to USE it now?"

We got home and dragged Scott out of bed around noon, packed up, and headed toward Verlot to hike to Independence and North Lake.

As per the recent news articles about the murders of Mary Cooper and Susanna Stodden on the Pinnacle Lake trail, it was recommended that hikers check in at the ranger station before hiking along the Mountain Loop Highway since the killer was still on the loose. We stopped, discussed the conditions with the ranger, and decided to head to Pinnacle Lake instead. The kids weren't scared and I didn't want to let some criminal tell me where we can and can't hike. I wanted to take back that damn trail.

Sign at the trailhead

The trailhead wasn't completely deserted. Two other cars were parked there, the only two cars I saw the whole way up. A Crime Stoppers poster adorned the sign at the trailhead. It was completely out of place, and I wanted to tear it up, but thought the good that it could bring was more important than my anger. The crime scene tape along the road didn't please me either.

Huge hemlocks and cedars line the trail

Regardless, we strapped our packs to our backs and headed up the trail, wary of our surroundings. Both kids hiked close by me, not because they wanted to, but because I insisted.Gradually climbing, the trail is quite rocky, blocked by roots, and narrow. Just the way we liked it. Huge trees of various species watched over us, and the salmonberries provided a nice treat. A short portion of the trail is devoid of undergrowth, but that is passed quickly, and the life sprouts up again.

Mmmm, salmonberries!

What a beautiful hike, and one that I can't believe I've overlooked for all these years. It wasn't in my "Best Hikes for Childeren" books, my hiking bible for trips with my kids for the past couple of years.

The trail is quite muddy in places

At one of the switchbacks, we met the first hikers we'd seen that day. They were coming down and promised that is "sure is pretty from the top." At one of the switchbacks, the trail seems to continue forward, and we spend a good few minutes bushwacking until Callie remembered that she saw the real trail back where we came from. She got a new nickname for that. "Pathfinder." She said she already had enough "forest names" and I asked her to choose her favorite. She told me that you can't choose your own. So, "Pathfinder" it is until I think of another.

"Pathfinder" climbing up the trail

Callie had to really climb over some of the blowdowns, but had fun doing it. Scott just trudged along, not saying much. They were getting really tired, and I promised them that we were close. I saw the top of a ridge, and assumed the lake to be on the other side. A tiny lake was there, but not big enough as I derived from my map. They really wished it was, though. We crossed the only other hiker we saw that day. A gentleman who couldn't hear what I was saying came around the corner and said we were about fifteen minutes away. I looked at the kids and they wanted to press on.

"Butt" rock

The trees open up to a sub-alpine meadow filled with heather, glacier-polished rocks, and krummholz. I'm not positive they were, but wanted to say "krummholz." Both kids were excited and almost began running when they saw a small, grassy tarn. Again, I thought the real Pinnacle Lake was farther on. They didn't seem to need or want any more than "Pinnacle Pond," as they called it, but kept going in fear of my consequences.

Sitka Mountain Ash

Pink Mountain Heather

At last, Pinnacle Lake came into view. The bugs did too. Callie claimed one large, flat rock, and Scott claimed another. Mount Pilchuck's shoulder stood at the southwest side of the lake. My DEET was distributed (actually traded for food from Scott, and a sip from the new filter from Callie) and applied. It worked amazingly well, as the cloud of bugs lifted. They still hovered near our faces, but didn't actually land or bite. And the DEET gave an interesting flavor to the peanut butter Clif Bar Scott gave me.

Almost there

Pinnacle Lake

Pinnacle Lake shore

Scott sat and ate and pondered the beauty, while Callie filled her water bottle. I checked out the small pond at the outlet. We realized we only had about forty-five minutes until we had to leave as to get back before dark. Our plans for swimming changed when we felt the water and saw that it was lined with submarine logs and a huge drop-off. Since I've become quite a connoisseur, I checked out the backcountry toilet. I didn't get a chance to use it though.

Backcountry Toilet

Outlet of Pinnacle Lake

The time flew by and we had to head back. We all were sorry we had to leave such a beautiful place. I think Pinnacle is my new favorite lake.I don't think that I took any of the beauty for granted that day. It really pissed me off that it was ruined for Mary and Susanne and all the other hikers who are now afraid. Don't get me wrong, I was a little scared too. The more I thought about it, the madder I got. It's like a murder in a church. I was constantly looking around, worried that my wonderful day could be ruined. Worried that my kids might not be able to tell their kids about this day. Seeing all the flagging tape along the trail and just imagining what it could be marking.

Callie at the lake

Scott really is happy to be here

All of the sudden, a foreign sound comes from behind me. I spin around. My first aid kit had found its way out of my pack and I reach down to pick it up. As I put it back in my pack, I realize my maps are missing. And my camera filter. And my hat and towel. Probably $100 worth of stuff. Upset by the fact that I was startled...that I had any reason to be startled, and the loss of my gear without time to retrieve it, I ranted a bit and cut my losses. I didn't want to leave the kids alone to run up to find it (it could be over a mile away), and didn't have time to take them back up with me. My headlights on my truck had just gone out, and I needed to be home by dark. Callie started crying, since she tries to take responsibility for everyone's problems.

Rare photo of me

We did have just enough time to check out Bear Lake for a minute. The shore was grassy, but campsites were available. I'll file that away for future reference. Although the weather was overcast, I'd lost my stuff, we were hiking where two wonderful women were killed while enjoying nature's beauty, and Callie's knee hurt, I am so thankful that we were able to do our small part to take back that trail.

Bear Lake

Tinkham Campground/TrailsFest
07/21/06-07/23/06

I’ve finally learned to reserve campsites in advance on the internet. It kind of takes away from the excitement of finding a campsite, but makes it easier to plan. Since I was planning for a group, I gave in and reserved a site on the internet.

This trip wasn’t meant to be a “get back to the wild” trip since Tinkham was so close to I-90, but I wanted to go to TrailsFest and used that as a good excuse to invite some neophyte campers. Also, so many of my friends are Seattlites who don’t like to drive far.

South Fork Snoqualmie River from Tinkham Campground

I got off work at 3:00. The temperature was in the mid-nineties. Jes had just found out she had to work later than expected, so I planned on taking a power nap before heading out. She actually got home a couple minutes after I did and started packing, but didn’t seem too happy about leaving. I asked if she wanted to stay, but she said “It’ll be fun.” We finally left after 6:00 and drove the short 45 minutes to the Tinkham Campground off I-90 at Exit 42.

The first thing I noticed upon arrival was the loud freeway noise. I-90, though not visible unless you are looking for it through the trees, clearly made its presence known. One of the things I remember from the camping trip to Denny Creek a few of us took as an alternative to the snooty high school cruise was the loud compression brakes of the semi trucks descending Snoqualmie Pass.

Ladene chopping wood while wearing sandals

The campsite was set up, but vacant of people. From the map of the campground, I knew the river was just past the campsite, so we followed a little trail, lined with used toilet paper, to the rocky riverbank. This was the first time I’d had the chance to try out my new Keen sandals. They worked perfectly on the ankle-twisting jumble of river rocks.

Morgan and Ladene were sitting on the beach drinking wine out of plastic-frat-beer cups right next to an aged specimen of dog poo. We scoped out the area, then went back to the campsite to fetch some beers. Jes had to move Morgan’s tent, since he’d pitched it smack dab in the middle of the level area, and pitched our the tent while Morgan, Ladene, and I went to Exit 34 (Ken’s Truck Stop) to get more beer, wine, smores stuff, wood, etc. When we got back, we all ate hot dogs and steaks and washed that meat down with cheap beer and wine. Morgan showed his prowess at fire building and we sat far enough away to avoid the additional heat. Ladene left without eating any smores or drinking the wine she insisted on and drove home.

Damn she's tough!

An argument broke out about dogs camping. Mean things were said. I took off. I came back. We all went to bed and filled our sleeping bags with sweat. Enough of that.

TrailsFest 2006

The morning arrived and the skies were overcast. I tried out the outhouse, made coffee, and waited to go to TrailsFest. 10:00 was when the events I was interested began. 10:00 rolled around. Danielle G1 was on her way and we were waiting for her to show up and for Morgan to wake up. I tried waking him up, but wish that I hadn’t. He sleeps “commando” style. Feeling the effects of the beer the night before, Morgan wanted to stop for breakfast somewhere, but we finally hit the road.

Morgan punching the notes from his Monster Ballads CD in the 'stang.

A long line of cars lined the road to Rattlesnake Lake. Our only hiking for the day was in the middle of the road until a representative from Flexcar stopped to pick us up.

Jes at TrailsFest. You can't see the heat.

The first order of business was to eat. I shoved the best barbecue sandwich I’ve ever eaten into my mouth. We went booth to booth, checking out MSR stoves, Therm-a-Rests, socks, boots, and packs. The folks at the Backpacker Magazine were traveling to forty states, camping and living out of their car. What a life, huh? The Audubon society displayed dead birds and we were picked our favorites. Mine was the crow, mostly because of a book I’d just read called “In the Company of Ravens and Crows.” The girl working their exclaimed “My dad wrote that!” I felt embarrassed for some reason.

The heat was too much to bear, so we took off to cool off in the river at camp and saw a fat woman fall in the river, her smokes floating away.

Danielle G2 keeping the dog away from the dog

Danielle G1 ready to order some new camping supplies

Back at the campsite, conversation flowed, as did the beer. We had to make another trip to the store. Dinner consisted of hot dogs, spaghetti, and beans. Danielle G1 locked her keys in her truck, got her cell phone, and realized that Danielle G2 was on her way but lost. I gave her directions and she said she’d stopped at every exit east of North Bend and had been driving for almost two hours! When she and her dog arrived, the campfire was started. Ladene made the trip after work again. The smores supplies were finally put to use. Then she went home.

I walked the ladies to the outhouse and loaned them my headlamp. Jes admitted that it was useful, after making fun of it for so long! Yes!

"You're right, Ted."

Both Danielles shared a tent with the dog, and we all slept through another hot night.

Morgan packing up

Upon waking, Morgan packed up and headed home. He’s getting quite good at setting up and breaking camp, and took off pretty quick. The remainder of us took a dip in the South Fork Snoqualmie River. It was pretty damn cold, but I tried anyway. Jes was playing like a kid – splashing, dunking, and swimming.

Who's tougher now?

We put the fire out, cleaned up the campsite better than we left it and drove to XXX in Issaquah. The burger was paper thin and more food than I needed. So passes another camping trip. Not one of the best, but camping nonetheless.

Tinkham Campground/TrailsFest
07/21/06-07/23/06

I've reserved a campsite at Tinkham Campground this weekend (7/21/06-7/23/06) so we can be near to TrailsFest at Rattlesnake Lake. We plan on campfires, beer, rafting, etc.

E-mail me if you would like to go, or just stop by. Camping space at the site is limited to eight people, and three slots have already been taken, so it is first-come, first-served for those who want to stay at our site.

If someone wants their own separate campground, they should arrive early or try to reserve one now!

Pinnacle Lake
07/14/06-07/16/2006, NOT!

This SUCKS!
I was going to go backpacking to Pinnacle Lake this weekend with my kids, but someone killed two women there and the trail is closed. If I didn't have my kids with me, I'd go anyway. Now everyone is freaked out about the scary wilderness. I had just called the ranger station yesterday morning before the crimes to see if the trail was snow-free. Weird! They looked like really wonderful people too.

Talapus and Ollalie Lakes
07/08/06

6+ Miles round trip

1220 feet elevation gain

The camping planned for the weekend was a bust, but Morgan and I heard the call of the wild anyway and decided to go for a dayhike.
Snow Lake was our number one choice, but after a phone call to the North Bend ranger station to find out that it was covered in snow, we abandoned that idea for Talapus and Olallie Lakes.
After the requisite stop for coffee, we drove to the ranger station to pick up a map. The lady ranger asked if we were together, and I excitedly said “yes.” “Where are you going?” she asked. “Could you tell us where Brokeback Mountain is?”
My truck slipped and slided five miles up the dirt road to the trailhead, where we ate our sandwiches and packed our day packs. No messing around. Morgan wanted to get to the lakes in short order.

Big Brother is watching

The first part of the trail was wide like a road. The underbrush was fairly non-existent and the Douglas fir trees were fairly young. A bag filled with dog poo was tied to a tree. Typical I-90-style hike. We made a pretty quick pace and huffed and puffed up the slight grade. I was glad that there was nobody else there to hear me breathing so hard. I usually hike from the front, mostly so nobody can see or hear the exertion. Morgan mentioned how he needed to get into shape, but he and I were pretty much at the same level of fitness.
We actually didn’t encounter too many people on the way up. We only passed one couple and their inquisitive dog. Of course, it wasn’t on a leash, despite the signs at the trailhead. I guess the dog couldn’t read.
The difference in vegetation was evident once we entered the Alpine Lakes Wilderness. Salmonberries, Indian Plum, various ferns and other plants began to fill in the forest floor. Hemlocks replaced the Doug firs. I noticed some bunchberries, which I learned to identify last trip.
At the outlet to Talapus Lake, two fat women and their crazy dog were guarding the lakeshore from anyone who came to get some peace and quiet. Plus they made me feel like my hike up wasn’t so monumental. If two huge women could do it, it didn’t mean so much. Morgan and I climbed on the logjam to check out all the little fish that were rising. The largest I could see was around 6 inches. “Big enough to fit in a frying pan,” Morgan said.

Talapus Lake

There was no road-style trail going around the lake. We fought bushes and other inanimate objects to reach the other side. A couple campsites sat along the shore (one had a fire pit even though fires aren’t allowed here) on the northeast side. I was constantly losing the trail. Morgan tried to take charge, but he lost it too. Luckily, the only one watching us from over there was Bandera Mountain.

Talapus Lake from the northeast

Walking excessively slow and aware, we found a sign saying “Main Trail” and followed it. I hoped the cute couple on their way down would confirm that we were heading the right way, but they were coming from somewhere else. It should be less than a mile to Olallie from where we were, so the investment wouldn’t be too much if we were on the wrong track.
The ground in that whole area has been trampled free of life, so the trail was hard to find. A group of women we met had given up hope finding the trail, but Morgan and I persisted. Finally, a sign pointed us toward Olallie Lake. Dehydration began to set in, and I wanted to get a drink. Morgan just wanted to get there. It was just around the corner.

Olallie Lake

Our arrival was greeted with barking from another dog (yes, not on a leash) and an old man sitting on a log. He wisely advised us that the lake was “refreshing” to swim in. No he hadn’t tried it, but heard that it was. Another fat woman had a dog in a baby carrier strapped to our chest. That drove us away as fast as a drag race, and we fought some more bushes to this lake’s little outlet. Morgan’s foot made a nice, deep impression in the mud and forced him to remove his boots. I followed suit and stepped in the warm water of the little mountain lake.
Olallie didn’t have the huge talus slopes lining its sides like Talapus did, and was much smaller. Trees surrounded most of the lake, and access was limited to a few marshy porches.
The trout jumped within feet of us, sometimes throwing their entire bodies out of the water. Whatever bugs were dancing up and down above the water were just asking to be eaten, and were.

Morgan takes a dip

Morgan decided to go for a swim (if I dared him) and dove in. The soft floor of the lake soothed my feet. The deeper I walked, the softer it got, and eventually my feet sank in a bit. After watching Morgan swim, I decided that I wanted to as well, but didn’t have extra clothes. I settled on swimming with my boxers and walking back commando-style. We swam a couple times, each warmer than the last, and sat on the beach across the creek from a little campsite. Each of us were fulfilled and began the hike down.
Downhill, all the way. This was a nice break, and fast. We’d made really good time getting up to the lakes and even better time coming down. Hoardes of hikers now crowded the trails. One guy, who was more intent on using his expensive poles than paying attention to what was around him simply grunted when Morgan was trying to talk to him. A family of three, complete with HUGE external-frame packs, were hiking to Olallie to camp. Their teenage daughter was super happy to be alive, but the mother wasn’t having so great of a time. The dad had a map, water jug, and probably pots and pans dangling from his pack (circa 1975). One guy out of the ten or so hikers with dogs had them on a leash and we thanked him.
Even though I like to complain about all the other hikers, it is kind of interesting to talk to them when we’re all doing something we love. One kid was fly-fishing up at Talapus Lake and we found out about the isolation of Island Lake.
When we finally reached the road-sized trail, I told Morgan we could walk “CHiPs style.” And I got to be Ponch. Morgan really wanted to be Ponch because he had more chest hair than I did, so I let him.
The trailhead was lined with many more cars than when we got there, so the lesson is to arrive early.
North Bend Bar and Grill wasn’t so crowded, and Morgan and I continued the tradition of eating there when we are hiking in the area. When we were in high school, the North Bend McDonalds was the place to go. We’s all growed up now!

Camping - R.I.P
07/07/06

“Wouldn’t it be sweet if we all went camping this weekend?” “Yeah! That would be awesome!” “I’m down!” “Me too.”
This is a replay of the conversation from our Fourth of July get together. Granted, most everyone had a couple drinks in them, but it was doomed from the start. I told Ladene “Just watch, everyone will back out.”
First, as deference to the wishes and location of the others, Tinkham and Denny Creek were named as potentials. Not usually my favorites, but it beats nothing at all. I then began looking at campsites along the coast, such as Kalaloch and South Beach.
Bit by bit over the week the excitement faded and fizzled out. Call me Nostradamus if you wish. I guess the disappointment was tempered by the accuracy of my prediction.
I’ve thought about joining the Mountaineers or something like that so I can meet others who get their kicks by hiking and camping, but had a poor run-in with them once.
On Little Si over two years ago, I was hiking up the trail and was blockaded by a train of novice hikers. Nobody let me pass, though I’d come charging up behind them. I felt like I was driving in the left lane and one of those idiots who is completely unaware, decides to go ten miles under the speed limit. They are quite frequent around Seattle, and in the woods too, I guess. Anyway, I finally found a wide spot in the trail and passed the dolts. The man who appeared to be the group leader said “the mountain will still be here tomorrow,” and the party laughed and resumed huffing. Finally, I reached a little vista just shy of the summit and sat down to eat lunch and look at Mt. Si proper, the mountain my great-grandfather loved and looked up at everyday. A woman walked by talking on her cell phone, then I heard the herd approaching. Of course, they all decided to bed down where I was eating my lunch. Lunchables, Capri Suns, and various fruits appeared and were consumed. I noticed a small group of them off to the side staring up perplexed at Mt. Si. Don’t they know to stay with the group! Predators lurk just waiting for mistakes like that. The logic puzzle they were trying to solve was this: why aren’t any trees growing in that huge rock field near the summit of Si? Was it the elevation? Maybe not enough sun or rain? There is such a thing as a dumb question, and it was asked of their leader. To his credit, he correctly attributed the lack of trees to the rockslides, due to the geology and geometry of the mountain. You’d think the rocks would give them a clue. I giggled quietly to myself, then asked “who are you guys with?” With a snobbishness I haven’t experienced since growing up in Bellevue, he peered down his nose and replied “the Seattle Mountaineers,” and looked away. “Hmm. Ain’t too many mountains in Seattle, are there?” I quipped, and headed to the summit.

Boardman Lake
07/01/06 -07/02/06

Sign at the trailhead

.8 Mile One-Way, 3.2 total (two round trips)
6 Campsites (2 single, 4 with enough room for two or more tents)
2 Mosquito bites
300 feet elevation gain one-way

Expecting a busy pre-Independence Day weekend in the woods, I got up around 5 to get ready to go. Excitedly, I had tossed and turned, anticipating the trip all night. A few last minute items added and removed from my pack and I woke up the kids after 6. On the road by 7:30, we stopped at McDonalds and to fill up with gas. The roads were pretty empty, but I still worried about the availability of campsites, and felt that this time my fear was justified. I was taking two first-time backpackers along and didn’t want to hike in, find that all the sites was taken, and have to hike back out.
The woman at the Verlot (pronounced just how it is spelled, not French-like) ranger station said that the trailhead to Kelcema Lake was snowed in. I asked about Boardman Lake, and she didn’t know of anyone up there. “You might just beat the rush,” she said.
So we drove the 5 miles east on the Mountain Loop Highway to Road 4020 and drove that for about another 5. The dirt road was in fair shape… not as good as Icicle Creek Road, but Jes enjoyed taking her Escape off road a little. We went past the trailhead (there was no visible sign), but I thought it looked familiar, so we turned around and went back.

Jes' first time backpacking

Four other cars sat on the side of the road, five campsites was what I was told existed at Boardman Lake. Another car pulled up, potentially vying for one of the spots. Callie and Scott hoisted their packs on their backs and booked it, trying to get to the site before the enemy did. Jes and I soon followed after. She was carrying a huge, 4-man Coleman tent in her hand and wouldn’t let me take it from her. I was carrying my personal stuff, camera and lenses, REI tent, and food for all of us, so my pack was full, but I’m used to it.

Old-growth cedar

Once on a trip to the Santiam Wilderness, My pack was easily 90 pounds. A large group of us from the Coast Guard had gone for a four day trip, and I was told none of them had backpacked before. I’d packed steaks, Jim Beam, a stove, extra fuel, water filter, and all the poles for an 8-man army tent. The hike was supposed to be about a mile in, downhill, but the pass was snowed in. We drove to the other side and it was snowed in too. So we drove back again. It ended up being more than seven miles, most of it uphill, and in knee-deep snow. As the most experienced on that trip, nobody could understand why I was lagging behind so far. When I handed my pack across a creek to Rich (the guy who’d camped there before), he groaned at the weight. Someone said I was a Sherpa, so I kind of took it as a compliment. I made sure I wasn’t the last one on the way back, and my friend Jamie and I beat everyone else by ninety minutes or so.
Morgan has also called me “Sherpa” so I’ve tried to keep that expectation justified. I like to make sure that when I introduce people to camping or backpacking they are fairly comfortable and will come back. Plus, with so much of my camping experience from when I was a Boy Scout, I learned to “Be Prepared,” and take everything along in case of anything. So if you see me in the woods, and need a chem-light, a signal mirror, or a map, I’ve got it.

4-man Coleman tent

Anyway, back to the Boardman Lake trip. I wasn’t winded going in, but pretty annoyed that my stupid trekking poles wouldn’t collapse and inhibited my picture taking. I wanted to capture Jes and Callie’s first backpacking trip. Plus, it was a beautiful, healthy looking forest. Many layers of canopy, various species of plants and trees, some hundreds of years old cedars surrounded us. I brought my Pojar and McKinnon Plants of the Pacific Northwest Coast this time and planned on identifying some new plants.

My REI Clipper Tent

Jes’s pack wasn’t situated right, and pretty uncomfortable for her, but she would rather just get there than mess with it. Finally, we caught up with Callie and Scott (“They’re fast,” Jes said) and they said the two guys they were trying to beat were only going for a dayhike, so the kids decided to take a break and wait for us. Callie was really upbeat and didn’t complain at all! She had more weight on her back than ever before, and was trucking along. Excitement probably drove her. Scott didn’t complain either. He’s been on much longer trips with much more weight before (including a 5-day, 50-mile trip). I could see the gap in the trees where the lake was and announced that we were almost there. At the lake’s outlet, a mass of logs creates a bridge, and on the other side of that bridge is a stairway, complete with loose steps, and the trail to the designated campsites.

Boardman Lake

Boardman Lake is framed by avalanche scarred Bald Mountain. Old-growth cedars, hemlock, and spruce trees reach over the huckleberry dominated forest floor. Bunchberries in bloom and deer ferns sprout up under the huckleberries. The lake is large and clear, reflecting the trees and mountains. Ripples blanket the lake at the outlet on the northeast and inlet on the opposite side. The water is warm, with newts and various insect larvae camping near the shore. I see a few fish rise, but don’t get close enough to see what kind they are.

Callie crossing the logjam

As soon as I made it across, I dropped my pack and reconned the area to see what was left. One lakefront site had a hammock and dromedary bag marking it, and two others were full. Jes wanted to camp on the beach, but I didn’t think we should be camping so close to the shore. I had Scott put up his tent in one, and the owner of the hammock said he could move his stuff if we wanted to use the space. Jes and I found a sit big enough for all of us, and we began setting up. Scott didn’t want to take down the tent and move it, so he carried it, erected, down the trail. Callie helped him pass it over some huckleberry bushes and they staked it down. Camp was set up.

Trees lining the shore

One of the selling points for Boardman Lake was that fires were actually allowed. Hopefully it would drive away some of the bugs that were constantly sipping from the corners of my eyes. I’d loaded the car with firewood in case we went car camping, so there was tons of firewood less than a mile away. I emptied my pack and hiked back to the car. I had forgotten to put my Golden Eagle pass on the mirror, so corrected the problem and saved myself a $5 ticket. I fit two bundles of wood inside my pack, and then hiked it back to the site. It took a bit less than an hour.

The wood I packed up from the car

Now it was around noon, and Jes had asked what I do when I go backpacking? Well, this time I sat down for a bit, made a fine lunch of Top Ramen for everyone, read books, sat in the sun, visited the beach, tried to float on a sleeping pad, inspected the backcountry toilet, snuck up on the kids, spied on the other campers, followed a raven, tried to identify plants, took a power nap, organized my gear, took photographs, explored other parts of the lake, wrote in my notebook, and looked at bugs, including a large dragonfly nymph that looked like a tarantula. Jes called it a “fancy bug.”

Jes studying a Rough-Skinned Newt

Callie and Scott found newts and busied themselves with catching them. They hadn’t seen me in the woods behind them and I heard them getting along, and having a nice, friendly conversation. I concluded that they only argue when they know somebody is there. I made attempts at various animal noises, including Bigfoot, and they finally saw me and began arguing.
One moment, I realized that I couldn’t hear a human-caused noise at all. Jes told me that she could… me. So I shut up.
Dinner consisted of undercooked Easy Mac, which I didn’t have the pleasure of eating since I hadn’t brought enough. What seemed a tragedy, turned out to be a blessing, as I had some freeze-dried lasagna and couscous, which by all accounts, was far superior to the Easy Mac. Callie made a cheesecake concoction to destroy the remaining Easy Mac taste in her mouth. Jes started the fire after my failed attempts, and we sat too close, then too far away, trying to find the optimum distance. “White man build big fire, get cold.” Jes said the wood was the most valuable she’d ever burned, paid for with my back.

Callie taking a newt for a walk

Bedtime came early – around 10. The sky was still pretty bright, and the view I expected of the stars never materialized. Scott decided to sleep outside, next to the fire. I don’t remember anything until I woke up before 7:00. A pounding outside is what disturbed me. I thought Scott was banging on a log with a stick. He sometimes has these weird tic-like things he does, but it turned out to be a woodpecker. I woke up and headed to the backcountry toilet. Now this toilet is luxury compared to nothing, and a shanty compared to a normal toilet. It is a wooden box with a hole and lid in the middle of the forest. The best view from a crapper I’ve ever seen!
I washed up, washed dishes, filtered water, built a fire, made oatmeal, and cleaned up. Scott and Callie went to hunt for newts again. Jes read her book. I took some more pictures, brought my plant field guide, and tried to ID some more plants. Bunchberry, Queen’s Cup, and various huckleberry plants were new identifications for me.

Scott on a rock outcropping

Jes’ worst fears then became reality. She had to make a trip to the backcountry toilet. I helped her prepare an ass-gasket of bark, similar to the paper ones in public restrooms. I’m so proud of her!

Best view from any toilet, ever!

Callie and Scott were still at the beach catching newts.
For lunch we had peanut butter and crackers, Clif Bars, etc. I asked Jes what the worst part of the trip was so far and she said it was the food. So much for my cooking prowess. I’d better just focus on barbecuing.

Scott packing only the essentials

We all packed up around 1. Nobody complained when we left. This time, Jes let me carry the Coleman Tent. Scott carried the REI tent and Callie’s bear. While stepping down from the stairs to the logjam, I twisted my knee and was worried about making it out. The pain only lasted for a second, and I just had a low-grade, dull ache the rest of the way. My pack wasn’t set up optimally, but the hike was so short that I didn’t want to stop and adjust it either. The hike out was quick and the only breaks were for hikers who didn’t know how to yield the right-of-way.
Everyone was pretty quiet on the drive back. Three things could be on any of our minds and any one time: Food, sleep, ibuprofen, or a shower, but I think Callie and Jes enjoyed their first backpacking trip.

Backpacking is so easy, Jes is falling asleep!

Clothes:

• Polyester Arc’Teryx shirt
• Cotton t-shirt
• Hemp Shirt
• Fleece Jacket
• Fleece Vest
• Cotton cargo pants
• Shorts
• Socks (2)
• Swimsuit
• Underwear (2)

Menu:

• Breakfast: McDonalds
• Lunch: Top Ramen
• Dinner: Easy Mac, Freeze Dried Lasagne, Couscous
• Breakfast: Oatmeal
• Lunch: Peanut Butter Crackers, Clif Bars

What I would have done differently:

• More toilet paper
• Better food
• Less clothes (I could have lost one t-shirt and a fleece vest)
• Bring a dromedary bag
• Different tent (Not the Coleman)
• Better way to carry camera/retrieve lens
• Retract poles
  
  

Bunchberry

Major plants/animals

• Western Hemlock
• Western Red Cedar
• Various Huckleberry species
• Deer Fern
• Bunchberry

Is this Western Coralroot?