DAY ONE: Last
year, a new adventure buddy introduced me to Silver Star
Mountain. I haven't had the opportunity to hike with Allison since, so when
she impromptu invited me on a Mount Adams overnighter last week, I jumped on
the chance to head into the backcountry after a long, forced celibacy from
hiking. School projects caused me to bail on Adams (apparently, a good
thing), so when Allison decided to give the first backpacking trip of the
season a second try, I was all in, school projects be damned.
I will make an
effort to get out for self-care this quarter.
With the high country still very snowy, Allison proposed
hitting up the northern section of the Mount Saint Helens National Monument, an
area she explored for the first time last year around Goat Mountain. For
this trip, we settled on a different approach to Deadman's Lake, entering via
the Goat Creek Trail, and climbing some 2400 feet in the almost nine miles to
the lake (most of this elevation gain was in a four mile stretch as the trail approached
Vanson Lake).
The trailhead was literally in a cloud when we arrived around
1PM; however, these were perfect conditions for the trail ahead. Simply put, the
Goat Creek trail is spectacularly beautiful, classic Cascadian old growth,
wealthy in fern, trillium, oxalis, thimbleberry, salmonberry, devils club,
slide alder and moss. We crossed a multitude of creeks and lovely 150 foot Leona Falls. Just beyond
the junction with the Tumwater Ridge trail (our return path), the trees grew
bigger while the trail became significantly brushier and laden with moisture.
Within two miles, we were both soaked from our trail runners to our shoulders.
It was a theme that would continue for the three days we were out.
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| Leona Falls |
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| In Georgia, this would be chigger territory (photo by A. Wildman) |
This section of our loop was generally in good shape, and I found
myself completely enamored by the beauty of this dense, deep forest. Although
cool, the humidity was nevertheless incredible- I was sweating buckets and slowing
down to tortoise speed on the uphill climbs. The temperature dropped as we
gained elevation and near Vanson Lake, we passed through some lovely alpine
meadows still melting out from winter snowdrifts. From a high point of 4700
feet on the ridge, we would drop 400 feet down to the shore of Deadman's Lake
for the night.
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| beautiful Goat Creek trail |
On our way in, Allison and I chatted about why we like
backpacking. For both of us, it's a combination of solitude and challenge, a
hitting of the reset button. Allison framed it really nicely that it's about
making yourself a little uncomfortable for a few days; when you get home, life
gets put back into perspective, and you appreciate comforts that much more. For
me, backpacking shuts off the brain chatter- by physically exhausting myself,
the world narrows down to greenery and the focus on simple things: walking,
food, shelter, water.
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| back in the clouds, nearing Vanson Lake |
Since Allison is a much
stronger hiker than I am, we separated on much of the trek to the lake. She
is all thoroughbred-long legs, ground-eating stride and grace- while I am more
like a stubby pony- short and slow but stubborn to get where ever I am going. I
was pleased to see that she didn't seem to feel the need to wait for me, and
equally pleased to discover that I am no longer frightened to be alone in the
woods, which is something most of my friends don't understand and which I've
given up trying to explain.
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| I had MAJOR pack envy on this trip- I'm on the left, Allison is on the right |
Deadman's Lake was quiet when we arrived, with only two
other small groups camping there. Characteristic of the day, it was foggy and
cool. That night, we would be serenaded by owl call, no elk, and (unfortunately)
my opera-loud snoring, which I had failed to warn Allison about ahead of time.
Yup. I have pipes.
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| I kept Oscar up with my snoring, too |
DAY TWO: The loose plan for the day was to jaunt up to the
Goat Ridge Mountain trail and take in (hopefully) views of the mountains and
the Mount Margaret backcountry. Allison and I had done our best to dry out our
clothing, shoes and socks from the day before to no avail- everything was damp
and smelling of hiker-funk which made it really, really fun to put back on. That
said, drying everything out was futile anyway....on the climb out from
Deadman's we were greeted by heavy, dew-laden brush, soaking us all over again,
leaving us with squishy trail runners in no time. By this time, I was really
sensing a theme to the weekend.
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| dewy false hellebore |
Busting out around a corner to the views from the Goat Ridge
trail made all the jungle rot worthwhile, even when the mosquitoes suddenly
converged on us (neither Allison nor I could figure out why they were obnoxious
higher up, but completely tolerable in the lake basin). The Goat Ridge trail is
on the edge of the 1980 blast zone, and the ridge walk is a dramatic
juxtaposition between the recovering green of the forest and silvered snags
left over from the blast.
It is also wildflower heaven.
[On a side note, one truth about me: I am definitely a lover of the high
alpine. As such, this loop trip was not the type of trail I would normally
choose, especially for an overnighter. However, as the trip wore on, I
discovered an appreciation for a different kind of beauty, that of deep old
forest with limited views, where the beauty is in the tiny intimacies of the
greenery all around you. By the end of the trip, I was really in love with this
loop.]
We sunned for a while, futilely trying to dry out shoes and
socks, before giving up and exploring beargrass meadows and playing games of
hide-and-seek with a very damp Oscar. The clouds rolled in and out of the
valley, playing peek-a-boo with the Mount Margaret backcountry.
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| Allison watching Mount Margaret |
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| Oscar watching Mount Margaret |
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| Mount Margaret peek-a-boo |
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| beargrass galore |
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| Me, loving the alpine meadows of Goat Mountain (photo by A. Wildman) |
By the time we returned to camp and packed up for Tumwater,
the sun had finally broken through. I'll be honest, I didn’t particularly enjoy
the five plus miles to a little unnamed tarn below Tumwater Peak. Unlike the
Goat Creek trail, this was dry forest walking, where, in some places, the trail
was being reclaimed by lots of blow down, the tread melding into the duff.
There is one good vantage point of Rainier, Goat Rocks, Adams and the Mt.
Margaret backcountry (all still very snowy), but overall the lack of views and
flowers was disappointing for me.
After cresting the ridge, we dropped down the trail to the unnamed
tarn we would call home for the night. With no established camps, Allison and I
were able to just barely eke out a somewhat acceptable site that was less than
ideal, but that would do for the night.
It was an entertaining evening. I managed to get my trail runners
dried out by the smoky fire Allison browbeat to life, but nearly melted the
soles off in my determination to not have wet feet. Oscar was sacked out in the
tent being antisocial, and Allison had a major ramen dinner fail that she
managed to salvage without adding too much pine needle flavoring to her meal.
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| antisocial Oscar |
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| ramen FAIL: adds piney flavor |
Ah. Backpacking.
Earlier in the day, while hunting for a site, Allison and I
noticed a healthy population of frogs in the area. At 9:30PM, the chorus went
off.
"CUE THE FROGS!" Allison hollered from her tent.
I fell asleep to a symphony of frog song that night.
DAY THREE: The next morning we putzed about, hoping for the
sun to hit the basin for long enough to dry out our, once again, soaked gear
for the hike out. Overnight condensation had left everything sopping. In the
end, I gave up and shoved my now-pound-heavier tent into its stuff sack for the
trip out. On the plus side- my shoes were still dry. As we began the plunge
down to the trailhead, I noted how this side of the Tumwater Trail was simply
beautiful, reminiscent of the Goat Creek trail on our first day in. That said,
it is steep, and if I am to ever do this loop again, I will continue to
approach it in the counterclockwise direction. Overall, we made decent time
back to the trailhead for the drive back to Portland. And, irony of ironies,
two stream fords less than three miles from the trailhead left us, once again,
with sopping wet shoes.
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| Allison & Oscar descending the Tumwater Ridge trail |
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| lovely Leona again |
Several days later, while dry, they still reek of hiker funk
and have been banished to the outside.
Ah. Backpacking.
GOAT CREEK-DEADMAN'S LAKE-TUMWATER RIDGE LOOP
Mount Saint Helens National Volcanic Monument, Washington
~24 miles, ~3900 feet elevation gain