Lake Annette- Swan song for 2011?

November 20th is late in the season for Lake Annette, which at about 3,500 feet is nearly at the same elevation As the top of Summit West, just on the other side of the ridge. There was about 8 inches of frozen snow in the parking lot, which made parking a free for all event.

Parking near the middle of the lot due to deep, frozen snow.

The trail was snow-covered but the snow was soft with good footing.  The temperature was in the upper 20s at the start and dropped gradually as the trail ascended.  The bridge crossing Humpback Creek gave a good indication of the snow depth.

Bridge over Humpback Creek

Humpback Creek

I only encountered one hiker on the way up who told me the lake was frozen, cold, and windy.  He was right.  Two hikers and their dog were heading down as I arrived. The snow was almost two feet deep in places and loose off of the beaten path, which made getting around a chore.  The piercing wind cut my stay short and I was heading down within 15 minutes.  Still it was an excellent day in the mountains and well worth braving he cold.

View from Lake Annette

Last bit of sun on the ridge west of Lake Annette

Lake Melakwa on a Clear, Crisp, November Day

Early November is a transitional time in the Pacific Northwest; traces of later summer sun occasionally linger in the air although blustery winds and driving rain are the norm.  Weather on November 5, 2011 was of the former variety.  Temperature at the trailhead was in the upper 20's and it cooled off as the trail climbed to higher elevations.  The trail up Denny Creek has an odd beginning,  crossing under I-90 which is elevated about 80 feet above the ground surface in this area.

I-90 above the trail

Warning sign at the Denny Creek crossing

 There used to be a nice bridge crossing Denny Creek but it was washed out during a storm a few years ago.  Now there are a couple of boulders and some slippery branches to walk across.  It makes one hope that the weather doesn't change after crossing the bridge. 

The Tooth, with frosty trees in the foreground.

Last of the fall colors on a crystal clear day

The trail was clear of snow for 3/4 of a mile past the creek crossing until it finally crossed the snow line.  Gradually the snow depth increased to about 2 inches at Hemlock Pass at an elevation of 4,600 feet.  In addition to the snow, there were a number of blown down trees recording the effects of strong winds funneling between the peaks.

Blow-down at the pass

Beyond the pass the trail drops gradually below a ridge. In one spot, a cluster of crystals were poking out from the hillside.  Some of them were nearly two inches long and curled in many different directions creating intriguing patterns. 

Ice crystals next to the trail

Lake Melakwa

The lake was spectacular, framed by frosty trees, and peaks covered with a thin dusting of early season snow, topped by a brilliant azure sky. The lake itself was starting to form a thin film of ice marking the beginning of winter.  The near side of the lake, where the trail ends, was in the shade and quite chilly.  After a snack of buffalo jerky and an apple, it was time to head down to the car.

Silver Peak

Someone at work relayed information about their attempted hike toward Silver Peak a couple of months ago and it has been lurking in the back of my mind ever since.  Silver Peak stands above Lake Annette, a frequent destination of mine and I have often wondered how to reach it.  A quick review of the www.wta.org website provided instructions and several trip reports.  The trailhead is reached from FR 9070, which begins in the Hyak parking lot.  The Cold Creek trail follows the creek for a little under a mile to a tee at Twin Lakes.  

Cold Creek near the trailhead

One of the Twin Lakes

 Following instructions, I took a left and crossed the creek over a single log bridge and began angling up more steeply at the base of a north facing slope.  Slide debris including a patch of last season’s snow, covered the first section of trail, which foreshadowed another dozen or so downed trees blocking various parts of the trail over the next mile and a half.  The trail, where visible, switches back, often quite steeply, to another tee at the Pacific Crest Trail.  Mirror Lake is ½ mile to south but will remain a mystery for another day. 

Sign marking a tee in the PCT

Pacific Crest Trail

Instead, I turned right noting that Snoqualmie Pass is 7 ½ miles distant.  I chatted with an elderly couple who described the turnoff for Silver Peak- a rock cairn on the left side of the PCT marking a “climbers trail.”  The PCT between the tee and the Silver Peak trail sloped down at a gentle grade, crossing wet meadows through a mix of conifers and vine maples in their fall glory. 

The climbers trail begins in a huckleberry and salal meadow but soon enters a forest following a small steep creek upwards.  After ½ mile the landscape opens and the two-tiered flank of Silver Mountain comes into view.  The first tier consists of switchbacks crossing a pile of crushed rock rubble that leads to a short forested plateau.  The final approach is steeper and the rock is more competent.  

Climber trail zigging up the left flank of Silver Peak

Cross-country trails below the peak

Annette Lake looks so tiny from Silver Peak!

There is a 360 degree view from the top of Silver Peak with Annette Lake lying surprisingly far below to the west.  Both the east and west approaches of I-90 are visible along with a patchwork of interconnected roads that are used by cross-country skiers in the winter.  

Fellow hikers at the top of Silver Peak.

After enjoying a quick snack, I descending the climbers trail, passing two families with two kids, not more than 10-years old each.  The young ones seemed content but they hadn’t reached the steepest sections yet.  When I reached the PCT I turned north to make the hike a loop.  After reaching the FR 9070, I turned right and headed for my car.  After a couple of miles of trudging, a couple of hikers I had seen on the peak slowed and gave me a ride the last mile to my car.  Still it was probably a 10-mile day and my legs were grateful for the rest.

There's goats in them thar hills

The Teanaway Valley is quite a jaunt from Seattle- probably 2 hours to the turn off of 970 after leaving I-90 in Cle Elem.  At first the valley is wide, flanked on either side by farms and ranches. Soon the hills close in rising steeply from the edge of the road.  After 13 miles, the pavement ends and a gravel road that begins with tooth-jarring washboard leads the rest of the way up the canyon.  Luckily, after a couple of miles, the washboard gave way to a smooth, lightly wetted dirt surface that allowed the pace to nearly triple. Two forks in the road offer meager clues in the form of signs with numbered trail destinations, each different from the sought-after trail head.  Two lucky guesses led to the trailhead 9 miles past the end of the pavement.

At the trailhead, amongst the usual signage about parking permits and trail lengths, was an extraordinary warning about mountain goats.  It hit home because this earlier this summer, an experienced hiker had been gored and stomped to death by a belligerent male goat in the Olympic Mountains.

Further up the trail, at the top of a pass was another warning sign about goats.  The last line, partially cut off in the photo reads:  "Goats will destroy the plants."  Who knew that goats were a danger to flora and fauna alike?

The trail, goatless for the day as it turned out, rises steeply along the left bank of the North Fork of the Teanaway River.  The first 1/2 mile or so are as wide as a jeep trail and rocky.  Soon the trail forks, and Ingalls Way, which leads to Lake Ingalls veers to the right.

Ingalls Way Trail

The trail climbs through nicely spaced trees for another 1/2 mile until the vista opens dramatically with a steep, unvegetaged rocky slope rising rapidly to the right.Across the valley, Esmeralda Peaks East assumes a near-perfect pyramidal shape first looming above and eventually almost directly level with the top of the trail.

Esmeralda Peaks East

The ground is covered with an array of rocks with interesting colors.  Some freshly broken surfaces are dark green to black with a glassy appearance.  The rocks are dense ultramafic rocks of the Ingalls Complex, mapped in a 882 page thesis by a hearty PhD student in 1980.   The trail tops out at about 6500 feet and offers a choice left along the main trail or right on an alternate.  At the top of the ridge, the season first snow and falls glorious larches spring into view.

Larches and early fall snow.

The main trail drops a bit before following along contour, crossing small brooks surrounded by one of the few patches of grass-covered soil.  Finally, the trail follows an alignment of boulders crossing smooth rock faces with rock cairns to guide the hiker.  The trail bends sharply to the left and upward at an alarming angle at times requiring a four-limbed scramble.  Shortly, the hiker is rewarded by a view of Lake Ingalls, little more than 1/4 mile across surrounded by vegetation-free rocks on all sides.

Rare patch of grass

View down Esmeralda Valley

Ingalls Peak juts from behind the left side of the lake while the craggy ridges of Mt. Stuart rise to the right rear of the lake.  The trail is about 4.5 miles in length and gains 2,300 feet along the way.  In spite of a 5 hour round trip drive from Seattle, the spectacular views are well worth the effort.

Mt. Stuart

Lake Ingalls

Bears and Berries

Fall in the Pacific Northwest means many things: the days become shorter, the rain sets in, berries ripen, and bears are fattening up for the winter.  It's also time to strengthen up for ski season.  For me, that meant a trip to Granite Mountain.  As I switched shoes at the parking lot the rain began to fill the trunk of my car. Entering the forest it wasn't obvious whether the fog was thick or the clouds were low and think, in either case the visibility wasn't much more than 100 feet.  At least the canopy dampened the rain and it began to soften as the morning wore on.  The trail follows an old logging road for 0.7 miles and continues on to Pratt Lake.  The trail to Granite Mountain cuts off to the right where it gets narrow and steeper, rising through a second growth forest.  Soon, the trail hits an avalanche shoot falling from the exposed southern face of Granite.  The trail winds up and across the gully and enters another patch of trees before rising and crossing two more avalanche paths.  Finally, the trees clear at about 4,200 feet and the slope is covered with huckleberry bushes and other low-lying vegetation.  As I was getting tired, the huckleberries drew more and more of my attention: for their anti-oxidant properties I kept telling myself, my cardiologist would be proud!

Huckleberries on the bush

I gathered then individually and by the handful depending on how much of a rest I needed.

A handful of delicious huckleberries.

 Trudging up a bit further I came across a pile of fresh scat, full of the same berries I had been enjoying. It wasn't steaming but it got my attention and I kept on the lookout for my berry-picking competition.  The trail climbs steeply in a series of braided paths reflecting the number of people who frequent this area and the erosive force of the runoff that drains the hillside. Further up, the trail enters a gully and the hard work of trail crews is in evidence in the shape of rocky paths placed to cover deep ruts in the easily eroded soil.  At the end of the gully, the trail flattens for a bit before the final climb of about 500 steep, steep feet.  Here, the last vestige of snow was lingering in what was presumably a shady spot on the north side of the mountain.  Of course proving this theory requires a bit of sun for proof.

The end of hike is a fire lookout accessible by a steep staircase. A friendly volunteer ranger welcomed me to come in a warm up.  He was up for a long weekend and a couple of his coworkers had joined him for the day.  All three work for King County Parks on trail rehabilitation and habitat restoration projects.  Soon we were joined by three woman who had spent the summer on Bainbridge Island at the Islandwood facility in an environmental education program through the University of Washington.  It was a small-world moment to have seven people working on related subjects meet at the top of a rain-soaked mountain.

Granite Mountain lookout on a sunny day, photo by laffertyryan (Flickr)

Are you Sasha's Mom?

Last weekend I returned to Mason Lake to see the sites after the snow had melted. Last time, I was there with my sons Austin and Douglas when the approach to the lake was covered with snow.  This time the trail was snow-free and people-full.  It was hard to find a spot to park when I arrived and there were several groups gathering their gear as I headed up.  The weather was warm but pleasant and I made good time and got away from the crowds.  About 2 miles in the hike I heard a phone ring. It took a second to realize it wasn't mine so I started homing in on the sound; using a trekking pole, I pushed aside a few low-lying leaves and found the little noisemaker.  Returning a call from "Sasha's mom" eventually led to a post-hike meeting with Miriam and her grateful dad in Auburn.  They gave me a box of chocolates for my trouble, which was a big hit with the staff at work on Monday.  Until the arrangements were clear, I queried each group of females for Sasha, with no luck of course.

At Mason Lake there were a number of groups hogging the best spots.  Feeling chipper, I turned north on what I thought was the trail to Mount Defiance.  Soon, I reached Little Mason Lake, which is a pretty gem under the southeastern flank of Defiance.

Little Mason Lake with Mount Defiance in the distance.

Map of the Mason Lake area.

  Having a little energy left I pulled out my map and saw my error: the trail to Defiance to the east northeast.  I decided to bushwack my way which turned out to be challenging, especially the first part, which was a fairly steep slope covered with dense, face-high brush.

 The under-story thinned after  a couple of hundred yards and the going was fairly easy if unclear.  It was relief to hit the trail and I turned right back toward Mason Lake, leaving Defiance for another day.  The trail back to Mason was short and sweet with Lake Kulla Kulla below the ridge to the left and moss-covered trees everywhere.

Mossy trees on the trail from Defiance to Mason Lake.

On the drive back to Seattle I spotted an odd vehicle that was worth a picture.  Turns out it is a vintage, custom racing truck. It's a little hard to see, but the driver is wearing a leather World War I flying hat.

Racing Truck.

Rampart Lakes September 2, 2011

After finishing up a few early morning work activities, I took Friday off to head for the hills.   It was a lovely early September day at the beginning of the Labor Day weekend so I was expecting crowds.  I chose Rampart Lakes because of their high alpine beauty.  The trail begins at the end of Forest Service Rd, which begins at the north end of Lake Kachess, north of I-90.  As various guidebooks note, this is a difficult hike, and sometimes I wonder why I keep coming back. The first couple of miles are scenic and fairly easy, following Box Creek up Box Canyon.  Several times the trail winds close to the creek and the water flows gracefully over smooth outcrops.  

There were a number of blown down trees crossing the trail and several were a challenge to scramble across.  The real challenge begins about 2 miles out when the grade shifts from about 5 percent to 20 percent.  The footpath changes from forest duff to a combination of boulders and gnarly roots tenuously holding pines and firs to the steep slope.   The “switchbacks” are more like a gentle “S” running almost straight up the fall line. 

"Trail" to Rachel Lake

Cascade on trail to Rachel Lake.

After about ½ mile the trail crosses a creek at a pool dropping 80 feet or more down a near vertical rock face.  The sheer slope is a sign of more work to come. 

The trail continues up at a brutal slope for another ¾ of a mile or so until it finally levels at Rachel Lake, a small deep blue beauty.  If you know what’s good for you stop here; I didn’t.

Rachel Lake with ridge to Rampart Lakes behind.

HiBox Peak from Rampart Ridge.

Rachel Lake from above.

 The trail to Rampart Lakes skirts the right flank of Rachel Lake giving the weary hiker a hundred yards or so of respite before veering past a boulder field and up a rocky ridge.  Along the way up there are a couple of great overlooks to Rachel Lake and the Box Creek canyon below.  The wise hiker will use these as an opportunity to gather strength and perhaps to snap a shot or two before continuing on.  Within a ½ mile the ridge is gained and the trail tees: the right leg heads further up Rampart Ridge and the left heads toward the lakes.  I took a right turn and went a few hundred yards along the ridge, where a route to Hibox Peak comes into view. 

Stream draining Rampart Lakes.

 It would take a lot more energy than I had for that scramble.  Instead, I doubled back, scrambling over more downed trees and across a few remnant patches of snow, a pile or two were four to five feet tall.  Within minutes the first of a half dozen Rampart Lakes comes into view.  Most are quite small with a distinct north northeast alignment tracing the path of glacial movement from thousands of years ago.  The lakes are carved into a rocky basin whose rock is scoured smooth by the ancient ice.  It was interesting to note that each lake is at a slightly different elevation, even those that are offset laterally by only a few feet.

Multi-levels in Rampart Lakes

Largest of Rampart Lakes with snow patches on Rampart Ridge.

Your weary narrator.

Twinned trees.

 Only a couple of other hikers were visible and after soaking up a little mid-afternoon sun I reversed my path and made my way down.  Here is where I realized how much I dislike the middle section of the trail because of the multitude of large steps.  Boy was I glad to have trekking poles to break my fall and save my knees. 

I passed several groups of campers heading up the trail to enjoy the Labor Day weekend.  As I passed the last few, I wondered if they would find a campsite by the time they made it to the lakes. 

Reflection in the calm water of Box Creek.

I reached my car 20 minutes after I was supposed to meet family in Seattle for an early dinner. It was another 20 minutes before I had cell coverage and I ended my day hungry and "in the dog house."  I vowed not to return to Rampart Lakes unless I got younger or lose some weight to take a load off of my knees.  Stay tuned to see whether that promise holds.

Snow Lake- Last Day in July

As cool as it has been this summer, it should have come as no surprise that Snow Lake was living up to it's name on the last day in July, 2011.  After last weeks extravaganza to Paddy-go-lucky Pass, I was grateful for a short hike to a reasonably short hike.

The lower section of the trail was clear of snow except a thin remnant where an avalanche had piled up earlier in the year. One and 1/2 miles in, the sign demarcating the junction with of the Source Lake and Snow Lake trails was clearly visible.  Only six weeks earlier, the sign was buried under six to eight feet of snow and there was no sign of the turnoff.  At that time, the only safe passage was to Source Lake- now the trail was clear but rocky as it climbed back toward the east.

Just above the Source Lake cutoff

Although the temperature was mild, a fine mist was falling. The cooling effect was pleasant and reminded me of how hot this exposed section of the trail can be on a summer day.  In fact, the switchbacks to the top seemed much gentler than I remembered from previous visits.
The stairs near the top were steep and water from melting snow created a constant drip along the path. 

Stairs near the summit

Flowers on the heather

The moisture and melting snow gave room for "spring" flowers, even on the heather.  A glance down provided a perspective on how steep this section of the trail is.  In places, the trail is cut from sheer stone. It must have been back-breaking work.

 

At the crest of the trail, the trail was covered with two to three feet of snow.  The lake basin was draped in fog and the lake was all but invisible 400 feet below.  I scampered about half way down to the lake and a few details appeared out of the gloom.  The lake remains covered with ice and snow except for a thin blue ribbon along the near shore.

Rather than hike all the way to the lake, I chose to climb about half way up one of the open snow fields.  I post-holed in next to a boulder and realized the snow was getting treacherous.  So, I pointed my boots down slope and skied back to the trail I used to wend my may down.

Cascading snow-melt from a face abov

e the trail.

It was a short hike back and the temperature warmed to 70 degrees as the sky cleared.I stopped to admire a cascading torrent just across from Alpental.   It was nice to make it back to Seattle by mid-day instead of dinner time.