Overnight in the Cascades
If one is going to check out their gear, doing it in mild sunny weather is less effective than when that gear is put to the test. The forecast was perfect for my purposes. To test my new pack and make sure my other gear was working like it should.
It was overcast and raining as I drove up to the trailhead about 40 minutes away, but when I arrived the sun was shining through a light misty fog. It was dazzling. Well, just my luck! Good weather, damn! Undaunted, I shouldered my pack and headed up the mountain. Surely the weather would deteriorate, but for the first hour it was just plain nice.
It was so nice that I decided to explore a side trail up an old semi abandoned jeep road. If it went through it would cut several miles off my route. The map showed this old road ending about 200 feet from a well maintained trail I could take up to Eagles Rest, my destination.
The first mile of the abandoned road was great. And I was lulled into a false sense of security. But then the tread devolved into a bushy overgrown mess. Oh, and the bad weather decided to show up, as promised. Soon I was pushing my way through bushes along a barely discernible path as the cold rain came down.
When I finally got to the end of the “road,” I found that the 200 feet between me and the well maintained trail was across a deep ravine filled with impenetrable forest, a labyrinth of downed trees, and a marsh, for good measure. Since there was a high likelihood that I would break my leg trying, I decided to back track to my original trail. And, right on cue, the weather improved when I finally made it back there.
So I continued my original path, up gravel Goodman Creek Road, as it wound up through the forest. When I got within about 2.5 miles of Eagles Rest, the forest suddenly changed. I had to do a double take. Since the last time I was here, last year, the loggers have been busy thinning this forest. One side of the road was untouched gnarlly Pacific NW forest with its thick undergrowth. On the other side of the road were widely spaced trees, no underbrush, and lots of stumps. It looked more like the dry forests of the Rockies.
Many of the little streams were full of muddy water, due to the lack of ground cover. But, thankfully, the stream I had been counting on near the top of the mountain, was still running clear.
It was late afternoon when I finally reached my favorite campsite below Eagles Rest, 1,600 feet higher than where I started. There was a steady rain now and I got my tarp up quickly so I could be dry setting up everything else under its cover.
Then I found a dry spot at the base of an immense old growth fir. It was just right for cooking dinner. My friend John from the PCT had taught me where to find these little dry patches a decade ago and the knowledge still comes in handy.
The nights are long this time of year, literally, but I was dry and cozy in the hammock as the rain continued for most of the night. But then, at 7AM, I was awakened by a bright light in my eyes. The sun was shining and the sky was blue. The mercury was hovering around 38F, but at least it wasn’t freezing. After breakfast I broke camp and hiked back down to my car as the sun backlit the mist in the forest. All my gear worked as expected, the new pack was a success, and I have a short list of things I need to replace or update in my kit. So, overall, a worthy trip.
Until next time- Happy Trails
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- ‘Sun rays add magic’
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- ’Abandon two track trail behind me’
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- ’Left side was thinned’
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- ’My campsite’
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- ’Dinner Time’
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- ’Forest Mist’
SlowBro! Your hiking world is so different from the day hiking in mostly good weather that we do. We did hike a new trail that you might like when you visit your sib in Santa Barbara – the newly opened Arroyo Quemado. Since you are looking for messy weather, you’d be right at home in the mud of the trail and crossing streams by plodding through six inch water. Which brings me to my question? Do you just plod through rushing streams or look for stones and logs to cross un-soaked? Which is what Hannah and I do. Yet, after crossing the Arroyo Quemado on the Gaviota coast, I found I wasn’t sloshing in my hiking boots or uncomfortable at all. I have a new appreciation of just stepping into the creek on the shortest line to the other side.
Hey Dan, when I first started backcountry hiking, I would always stop beside the stream, take off my shoes and socks, cross the stream, dry my feet, and then put my footwear back on. (Assuming, of course, that I couldn’t find a dry way across.) This is quite time-consuming and on more than one occasion I cut or scratched my barefeet on rocks in the stream. Then, my friend, Scatman, took me to the Gila Wilderness. We hiked the Middle Fork of the Gila River, where you cross the stream 30 to 50 times in 10 miles. we just hiked through with our hiking shoes and socks on and kept on going. And guess what? No foot problems, no blisters, no cuts or scrapes, anti-climax. Since then, anytime I come to a stream with no dry crossing, I just walk on through with my shoes on. If it is a bigger river or a dicey crossing, I will stop and figure out a route as I described in a prior post. But once I have a route, I do it with my shoes on.
On a different topic, unfortunately, I will not be visiting my sister in Santa Barbara this spring. The schedule just worked out that way. So I will miss hiking with you and Hannah. And I was looking forward to that, but maybe we can do it next year.