GOAT RIDGE-SNOWGRASS-CISPUS BASIN-NANNIE RIDGE TRAVERSE
Goat Rocks Wilderness, Washington
~24-25 miles, at least 2500’ elevation gain
Goat
Rocks. There is no doubt it is one of my favorite places.
Ever since their
maiden
foray into backpacking last year, Sam and Shel and I have been trying to
coordinate another trip (adult schedules are difficult to line up, it seems).
Both friends were also interested in experimenting with slightly longer mileage
and a multi-day trip. The Goat Rocks Wilderness packs a lot of bang into the
mileage buck, so it was a good fit for adventuring further afield with multi-nights.
Around every corner lies more enticing scenery, panorama and drama. It just
somehow keeps you going.
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| One of the many views in Goat Rocks that keeps you going (Day 3, PCT) |
Par for the course with our trio there is the new gear trial- Sam hoofing
in a new pack and me with another new (potential) dog. With 100° temps
predicted in the valley (90s in the mountains), I left Pepper at home for this
one. While Chewy seems to be a remarkably heat tolerant pup, Pepper just can’t
handle that much heat. As a matter of fact,
I wasn’t sure I could handle that much heat. This was an experiment for me
as well (I moved from Georgia to get away
from the heat after all).
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| he didn't much care for the backpack |
An early start from Portland still translates into an 11am start by the
time we finish shuttling cars around trailheads. In order to properly introduce
Shel and Sam to the Goat Rocks, I had us starting at the Berry Patch trailhead,
working our way up Goat Ridge to Goat Lake on day one, traversing thru the
heart of Goat Rocks country and Snowgrass Flats into Cispus Basin on day two,
and, on the last day, heading out via Sheep Lake and Nannie Ridge to Walupt
Lake.
The three of us badly needed this trip, the time and ability simply to
get away from work and empty emotions into the landscape. The unit has been
exceptionally difficult lately, and we all shared a sense of necessity in
getting away, of letting go. Catharsis, zen, whatever you want to term it. And
nothing quite decompresses you like mileage, stiff hill climbs, and heat. Good
ol’ fashioned slog/sweat therapy.
DAY ONE: Appetizer & an introduction to Goat Rocks (Berry
Patch TH- Goat Ridge- Goat Lake, ~6mi)
Heading up Goat Ridge, I found myself reminiscing. Goat Rocks was Andy
and I’s first *real* backpacking trip in 2004.
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| bleary-eyed at Goat Lake, 2004 |
It was the site of my first solo
overnight in 2007 (scared to death the entire night, convinced some big bad
creature was lurking just outside my
tent door). Still the best stars I’ve ever seen (Goat Lake, 2004) and the best
sunset (Jordan Basin, 2007).
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| still the best sunset I've ever seen: Jordan Basin, 2007 |
Failed attempts at cross-country, high alpine lake
hunting (Warm Lake, 2006). Dust, so much dust. Terrifying traverses. Trail
magic. Four strangers coming together at the trailhead to help another couple
load an incalcitrant llama into a trailer. Stalking goats and backpacking thru
cow herds. Being almost 200lbs and struggling my way over terrain that today
felt challenging but still so do-able, a win on the fitness/health meter for me.
I have so many memories here.
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| Jordan Basin, 2004 (first *real* backpacking trip) |
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| this was a very different summer in mid-August 2011 |
A nice breeze kept the heat on the ridge climb out of the trailhead
bearable, and once out of the trees, the bugs disappeared. Water was
nonexistent until Jordan Basin, but the views certainly weren’t, and Sam and
Shel were oo’ing and ah’ing around most turns. After the long traverse into
Jordan Basin, we take a breather, gathering our thoughts and cooling off our
feet, and begin the debate whether to push on to Goat Lake or stay in the
basin. The decision won for a night at Goat Lake- although more crowded, it is
difficult to argue with that view. And if you’ve never been…well, you should probably
stay there at least once.
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| hot and dusty on the Goat Ridge trail |
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| Goat Ridge trail heading into Jordan Basin |
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| trail friends ascending the final traverse into Jordan Basin |
As Sam and Shel prepare to crest the ridge (6600’) where the Goat Ridge and
Lily Basin trails meet, I call out: “Just wait, friends! The junction ahead is
kinda sorta of one of those ‘oh shit/speechless’ moments. Enjoy!”
I think they concurred.
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| where the Lily Basin & Goat Ridge trail meet: hello, Goat Rocks |
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| such a goof |
The goat herd (with babies!) above our heads doesn’t hurt either.
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| goat family on the Lily Basin trail |
The traverse into Goat Lake’s barren, alpine cirque is mesmerizing as
ever, the afternoon light harsh and brilliant, with ever-present and outstandingly
open views of the Goat Rocks and Adams and the wide valleys below. The milk
blue waters of Goat Lake 6400’ beckon and after setting up camp we simply spend
much of the afternoon both in and around the lake before nestling in for the
evening show.
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| I love this trail |
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| Goat Lake, 6400' and the Goat Rocks |
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| picking their way thru the scree |
All the day hikers disappeared. Only one other group shared the basin
that night. The moon rose, the wind disappeared. Bliss.
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| a tired dog is a good dog |
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| moonrise |
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| Sam chillaxing to nature's Prime Time |
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| Adams from camp |
DAY TWO: Main Course and a heat wave. (Goat Lake- Snowgrass
Flats- PCT- Cispus Basin, ~9 mi)
At home, I’m kind of a *normal* morning person…7 to 8ish for waking up.
In the backcountry, I’m usually awake (if not actually out of the sleeping bag)
by 5-5:30. And I love dawn in the alpine. It’s very, very quiet and beautiful
to watch the world wake up.
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| good morning, lake |
Later, after my trail companions wake, I find myself laughing because I
swear the moment the sun touches its waters, Sam and Shel immediately take a
very invigorating dip (complete with howling and a peeping tom marmot) in Goat
Lake to freshen up, while I chase down the dog who’s discovered the joys of goat
poop snickers. Ah, backpacking. Trio complete, we set out for the long walk
through the heart of Goat Rocks country. It’s already warm, the sun and lack of
a breeze heralding a much hotter day than yesterday. By the end of the day, at 6000’,
it’s almost 90°.
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| the view from the far shore of Goat Lake |
The traverse through Lily Basin is familiar territory for me; still,
it’s a homecoming that never grows dull. We were all in love with the valley
and take our time in the heat heading up towards Snowgrass. We encounter more people
than expected for a Thursday afternoon, but once we jump off on to the
Snowgrass trail, climbing towards the PCT, the population rapidly dwindles.
Climbing toward the PCT, I am in new territory and do my customary slide to a
stop when the world opens up.
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| Lily Basin trail heading out of Goat Lake |
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| reaching the PCT and Snowgrass Flats |
This. This is my church. Nuff said.
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| Snowgrass Flats & the heart of the Goat Rocks |
At 6400’ in elevation, Snowgrass spreads before us, bleached by the
harsh alpine sun. Even without the legendary fields of lupine (now all to
seed), it is spectacular. I want to spend all day here. We encounter our first
thru-hikers as we head south, Mount Adams’ hulking bulk our constant visual
companion on the horizon.
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| Sam & Shel contemplating Adams |
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| PCT south thru Snowgrass |
By the time we meet up with the PCT Bypass and continue our way towards
Cispus Basin (6100’), it’s very warm, and the dog is starting to crap out with
the heat and unrelenting alpine sun. All of us have been exposed to the sun
above tree line most of the day, and we’re salty and sun-fried and
sweaty-sunscreen-dust-slurry filthy. Although only around 3pm, it is time to
find camp. The next reasonable camping is located at Sheep Lake, another
roughly 3+ miles from the basin, and both the sun and heat continue to rise.
The sweet little site I had in mind is free, an open space in the heart of the
basin below Gilbert Peak’s massive 8124’ flank. The headwaters of the Cispus
River rush by next to us, and Shel and Sam spend the remaining daylight hours
sitting in the cool waters, like a pair of water nymphs greeting various thru
hikers.
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| entering Cispus Basin |
Chuckling at my friends, I spend some time napping in the tent trying
to get out of the high, harsh sunlight; there’s only so much sunscreen I can
take. Later that evening, I simply bask in the emptiness of space. I love being
out in the wide open country. It makes everything else in my life feel small
and insignificant.
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| camp below Gilbert Peak |
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| Sunset, Day 2 |
In the middle of the night, I step out of the tent and the basin is
gilded silver, awash in moonlight. The stars feel low, like the roof of the
world is just above my head. Beyond the sounds of rushing water and wind, the
world is silent, a private planetarium. Absolute awe.
DAY THREE: Dessert & a case of backcountry malaise. (Cispus
Basin-Sheep Lake-Nannie Ridge-Walupt Lake, ~9.5 mi)
The next dawn I wake early and briefly putter about camp with the dog
before retiring back to the tent. I feel ill, listless and nauseated, and I’m
holding down dry heaves. Stating the obvious to me is a talent of mine as I
think in my head, “Well, this isn’t good.”
I’m supposed to work the next day, along with Sam. Neither Shel nor Sam
knows the territory, but it wouldn’t be hard to get them back on the right track
and trail back out to the car. I have enough food for another day (especially
if I don’t end up eating today) and enough gear to keep me safe, if not
entirely comfortable, while combating a case of backcountry malaise.
Apparently I’m not thinking rationally because, when they wake up, Sam
and Shel instantly kabosh the idea of leaving me behind as completely ridiculous.
Once home, Andy agrees with them.
Clearly I’m outnumbered here.
Fortunately, it appears short-lived. After drinking more water and one
cup of coffee to rally my senses, the ill ache in my body disappears.
Dehydration? Unlikely given the nearly seven liters of water I drank the day
prior. Altitude? Possibly, especially combined with the heat wave. Regardless,
I am fortunate. And the situation ultimately provides three geeky medical professionals an
interesting conversation and case study scenario to work through regarding the
use (and/or misuse) of search and rescue and notifying loved ones when you are
almost ten miles from the nearest trailhead.
Beginning the climb out of the basin towards the pass, we are initially
still sheltered in shadow but soon break out into the unrelenting sunlight,
where we will remain the rest of the day until the final drop into Walupt Lake.
The climb is breathtakingly beautiful, and we stop numerous times to turn and
contemplate the Goat Rocks: Snowy, Ives and Gilbert, behind us. The colors are
still those of summer but transitioning to fall early with the drought; the
crumbling rock especially brilliant in the early morning light.
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| morning from camp |
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| Sam ascending the PCT towards Cispus Pass |
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| Shel, contemplating Cispus Basin and the Goat Rocks, all the territory we've covered over two days |
Beyond Cispus Pass 6475’, we continue climbing to a knoll at 6735’
where Sam breaks out into a victory stance. Just because: celebration and all.
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| it's just luv |
And the trail just keeps on giving. It’s a panorama of color and light
and vistas and mountains, the eye beholden to nothing and everything. The smell
of the dry heat and rock and pine forest. Passing Sheep Lake, the ladies are
enamored. I rest on the trail, finding a bit of shade as they briefly explore
the shoreline, remembering
Andy
and I’s Perseid trip there exactly one year ago.
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| gorgeous PCT after Cispus Pass heading towards Sheep Lake |
I appear to have forgotten the rolling up and down trail that is the
Nannie Ridge trail though. I keep anticipating the down portion of the trail,
the breakneck switchbacks to the lake where we can all cool our feet. I’m
hoping for the downward angle around every bend, and it takes forever to
appear. The temperature continues to climb and the ridge is absolutely baking;
at this point we all pass into silence, packs on, legs churning, heads down
against the mileage grind. Finally, we reach the true downhill portion of our
hike and the tempo picks up as we make our way towards to the sparkling waters
below.
It’s 100° in Portland. A beautiful trip. Trail friends. A reminder of how the simple things in life are what make it good and worthwhile.
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| dirty paws |
