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!