October 10-12 2008
See all of the photos from this trip here.
Day 1: 10 miles, 1,600 feet gain, 400 feet lost
I woke up insanely early this morning (a little before 5) and couldn’t get back to sleep, so eventually I just went with it—I jotted down some ideas I had had during the night, packed up my backpack, cooked a big breakfast, and fetched the NPS truck that I can use at about 6:30. I headed upvalley and parked at Carwash Falls, where the Stehekin River Road now ends due to washouts in the big floods of spring 2002. I was on the trail at about 7:30, and it was beautiful, clear, and cold. The Old Wagon Trail is a beautiful trail that follows within earshot but never sight of the Stehekin River, 3 miles up to Bridge Creek, with lovely forests, fall colors, and some peeks through trees at Mt. Booker. Another 3 miles along Bridge Creek, with increasing views, brought me to the North Fork Trail. (The Old Wagon Road and Bridge Creek Trails are also the Pacific Crest Trail.)
At the bridge over Bridge Creek, I met an NPS ranger. Of course she asked me where I was headed—she raved on and on about how beautiful the North Fork is. And it did not disappoint: the next four miles to Grizzly Creek were spectacular, through beautiful parkland and forest frozen with the snow from the last several days. It is a spectacular day: hardly a cloud in the sky and possibly as warm as 50.
One drawback to hiking in a frozen forest on a sunny day is that it’s a little like walking through a sleet storm!
I forded Grizzly Creek to my camp at about 12:30. The ford is not completely trivial: especially at this late date, where a fall could mean injury but also risking hypothermia. So I studied several possible fords carefully before choosing one, which went without a hitch. The water was near the top of my boots on a couple steps—this ford could definitely be challenging in summer when the creek is higher, although I’d just wear sandals in the summer. After fording, I had a little fun with the camera timer and the “Grizzly Hiker” marker. (I bet everyone who comes here takes this picture.)
I deliberately slowed my pace after leaving the Bridge Creek trail, since the scenery was gorgeous and I had all the time in the world, thanks to my early start. There is a bear wire here at Grizzly Camp, which means there’s obviously a history of bear activity in the area, so with any luck I’ll see one.
From my camp at 3,200 feet, I have views of the awesome summits of Goode (the “e” is not silent), Storm King, and Logan: giant peaks almost 6,000 feet straight above me. After making camp, I spread my pad and sleeping bag out in the sun and took a little nap. Unfortunately, when I woke up, I wasn’t in the sun anymore and it was cold. (Looks like I picked a bad trip to forget my longjohns, but I have nylon zip-offs and rain pants, so I should be fine.) I moved into the tent for bit, and came out bundled up at 4:00 to collect firewood (always a challenge in the soggy Cascades) and fetch water (brr).
I enjoyed a dinner of three-bean chili and an apple, and got to work on my fire, as it grew dark, around 7:00. The moon is almost full tonight: you can see the moonlight streaking through the trees. There is not a cloud in the sky. It is cold but I am comfy by the fire.
I only burned about half of my wood, so I should be good to go for another fire tomorrow night. It has been a fantastic day!
Day 2: 10 miles, 1,500 feet gained and lost
I got out of the tent at about 7:15 to take care of some very cold business. I checked the thermometer on my pack, which had been insulated under the pack cover, and it said 19. (The low was probably 15 or less.) I took a couple pictures of Goode and Storm King bathed in morning sun, and crawled bag into my bag. It was too cold to be up this early if you didn’t have to be. I read a chapter of the book I brought and just chilled until about 8:30.
The trail to the head of the North Fork cirque certainly ranks among the most beautiful trails I’ve been on, passing under the staggering north walls of Goode and Storm King and to the base of Mt. Logan. You can understand here why the North Cascades are sometimes called “the American Alps.” The summits are incredibly rugged and steep.
Much of the trail above Grizzly Camp is at least a little brushy, including one particularly trying section about a mile above Grizzly Camp where there was shoulder-high brush (wet and cold), berry thorns, and parts of the trail were washed out. This section required some perseverance. (I don’t think very many people come up here, actually.)
It was a little before noon (I was long past the official end of the trail) when the path fizzled out in meadows below Mt. Logan at the head of the cirque, and I was thinking about finding a lunch and turnaround spot. I crested a little knoll, and there was a bear on the path ahead! It was the perfect distance: close enough to get a good look (and pictures), but not so close that I’d wet myself. He casually rambled up the gentle slope about 100 yards and parked: apparently not very intimidated by my presence and not interested in retreating any further. It was a large black bear—definitely a fully-grown adult. I watched and got some pictures, then waited for him to retreat. I even walked about another 10-15 yards, thinking that would get him moving, but he did not budge. So I did: I was close to where I needed to turn around anyway, and who knows when the next human will be up here (spring?), so I didn’t want to take any chances.
I walked about ¼ mile downstream, looking back to see that he never moved. I parked in a pleasant sunny meadow just above the creek and enjoyed my lunch. I walked down to the creek, thinking I might ford and scramble the brushy slopes up to the base of the cliffs of Storm King, but the ford was not completely trivial, and in this cold weather it didn’t seem prudent to risk a fall and hypothermia when I didn’t need to get across. So I packed up and headed down. By now, the shadow of Goode and Storm King was reaching across the upper valley and it became much cooler, so I was happy to be heading down to where the sun was still shining.
This is a spectacular hike, although the fall colors are subdued: there are no larch here, and much of the huckleberry and other deciduous plants are dried up now. (The snow earlier this week may have finished them off.) This would be a spectacular trip to introduce someone to backpacking: three fairly easy 10-mile days (minimal elevation gain), an exciting but not life-threatening ford of Grizzly Creek, and a 2-night basecamp with light packs on day 2. What more could you want?
I got back to camp about 2:15—just in time to wash up a little, change socks and skivvies, and get clothes aired out, all in the last few minutes of warm sun.
A thin layer of benign-looking high clouds started rolling into the valley. This was a welcome development, since it will keep the temperature a little higher tonight if it holds. I read a chapter, then fixed my dinner of Pinnacle Pasta, trail mix, and a raspberry/lemon dark chocolate bar, with my constant chipmunk companion. I had a much easier time coaxing fire tonight, and it burned hotter, faster, and more completely. What a difference a day of sun makes for firewood. All in all, it has been a fantastic day, as I nurse my fire to the bitter end and call it a night at about 8:30, retiring to the tent to write in my trip log.
Day 3: 10 miles, 400 feet gained, 1,600 feet lost (+ 8 bonus miles)
At 7:15, it was very lightly raining or snowing, as it had been for some time. But it was the lightest possible precipitation: no worries. I finished my book in the tent. It was warmer last night (maybe 25-30?) and I slept pretty well. I cooked breakfast (something I haven’t done much recently) and hit the trail about 9:15. I was at Bridge Creek camp at about 11:45. There was little sun and it was kindof chilly. I had lots of time, so I did something I never do: got out the stove and cooked Thai noodle soup mix for lunch. It really hit the spot.
I took the old river road the next mile down to Shady Camp, since I had taken the PCT route on the way up. I saw the impressive washout at Shady Camp, and at about 1:30, was back at the truck at Carwash Falls, where the road is also washed out. I headed down, reaching the bakery at about 2:30. I was keen to get here, because it is the last day they are open for the season, and I wasn’t sure how late they’d stay open. I snagged an ice cream cone, some bread, and some gingerbread cookies and headed back up to the Harlequin Bridge and over to the Stehekin airstrip, where the Stehekin River Trail begins.
I hiked about a mile to Blackberry Creek, where I had seen the kokanee spawning a few days ago (armed with a camera this time), but there were far fewer fish. I continued a little further to a spot where you can see Rainbow Falls, and I bushwacked down to the river, because I had heard that this was the prime place to see the kokanee spawn. Alas, no fish: I think they have all made it further upstream or have died at this point. For some reason, I decided to continue the rest of the way to Weaver Point (the head of Lake Chelan, the mouth of the Stehekin River). I didn’t have a map with me now, but I was sure it was 3 total miles. (It was actually 4). I walked biskly, wanting to get home in time to shower and eat at a reasonable hour, so the 8-mile round trip took a little less than 2.5 hours. Just as I arrived at Weaver Point, a golden eagle took off very close to me and headed out over the lake. (I didn’t get a good picture.) As I was returning to the airstrip, I saw a funny sight: there were deer on the runway, and a pilot about to take off had to chase them off. (I took a picture, but it’s very blurry.)
Day 1: 10 miles, 1,600 feet gain, 400 feet lost
I woke up insanely early this morning (a little before 5) and couldn’t get back to sleep, so eventually I just went with it—I jotted down some ideas I had had during the night, packed up my backpack, cooked a big breakfast, and fetched the NPS truck that I can use at about 6:30. I headed upvalley and parked at Carwash Falls, where the Stehekin River Road now ends due to washouts in the big floods of spring 2002. I was on the trail at about 7:30, and it was beautiful, clear, and cold. The Old Wagon Trail is a beautiful trail that follows within earshot but never sight of the Stehekin River, 3 miles up to Bridge Creek, with lovely forests, fall colors, and some peeks through trees at Mt. Booker. Another 3 miles along Bridge Creek, with increasing views, brought me to the North Fork Trail. (The Old Wagon Road and Bridge Creek Trails are also the Pacific Crest Trail.)
At the bridge over Bridge Creek, I met an NPS ranger. Of course she asked me where I was headed—she raved on and on about how beautiful the North Fork is. And it did not disappoint: the next four miles to Grizzly Creek were spectacular, through beautiful parkland and forest frozen with the snow from the last several days. It is a spectacular day: hardly a cloud in the sky and possibly as warm as 50.
One drawback to hiking in a frozen forest on a sunny day is that it’s a little like walking through a sleet storm!
I forded Grizzly Creek to my camp at about 12:30. The ford is not completely trivial: especially at this late date, where a fall could mean injury but also risking hypothermia. So I studied several possible fords carefully before choosing one, which went without a hitch. The water was near the top of my boots on a couple steps—this ford could definitely be challenging in summer when the creek is higher, although I’d just wear sandals in the summer. After fording, I had a little fun with the camera timer and the “Grizzly Hiker” marker. (I bet everyone who comes here takes this picture.)
I deliberately slowed my pace after leaving the Bridge Creek trail, since the scenery was gorgeous and I had all the time in the world, thanks to my early start. There is a bear wire here at Grizzly Camp, which means there’s obviously a history of bear activity in the area, so with any luck I’ll see one.
From my camp at 3,200 feet, I have views of the awesome summits of Goode (the “e” is not silent), Storm King, and Logan: giant peaks almost 6,000 feet straight above me. After making camp, I spread my pad and sleeping bag out in the sun and took a little nap. Unfortunately, when I woke up, I wasn’t in the sun anymore and it was cold. (Looks like I picked a bad trip to forget my longjohns, but I have nylon zip-offs and rain pants, so I should be fine.) I moved into the tent for bit, and came out bundled up at 4:00 to collect firewood (always a challenge in the soggy Cascades) and fetch water (brr).
I enjoyed a dinner of three-bean chili and an apple, and got to work on my fire, as it grew dark, around 7:00. The moon is almost full tonight: you can see the moonlight streaking through the trees. There is not a cloud in the sky. It is cold but I am comfy by the fire.
I only burned about half of my wood, so I should be good to go for another fire tomorrow night. It has been a fantastic day!
Day 2: 10 miles, 1,500 feet gained and lost
I got out of the tent at about 7:15 to take care of some very cold business. I checked the thermometer on my pack, which had been insulated under the pack cover, and it said 19. (The low was probably 15 or less.) I took a couple pictures of Goode and Storm King bathed in morning sun, and crawled bag into my bag. It was too cold to be up this early if you didn’t have to be. I read a chapter of the book I brought and just chilled until about 8:30.
The trail to the head of the North Fork cirque certainly ranks among the most beautiful trails I’ve been on, passing under the staggering north walls of Goode and Storm King and to the base of Mt. Logan. You can understand here why the North Cascades are sometimes called “the American Alps.” The summits are incredibly rugged and steep.
Much of the trail above Grizzly Camp is at least a little brushy, including one particularly trying section about a mile above Grizzly Camp where there was shoulder-high brush (wet and cold), berry thorns, and parts of the trail were washed out. This section required some perseverance. (I don’t think very many people come up here, actually.)
It was a little before noon (I was long past the official end of the trail) when the path fizzled out in meadows below Mt. Logan at the head of the cirque, and I was thinking about finding a lunch and turnaround spot. I crested a little knoll, and there was a bear on the path ahead! It was the perfect distance: close enough to get a good look (and pictures), but not so close that I’d wet myself. He casually rambled up the gentle slope about 100 yards and parked: apparently not very intimidated by my presence and not interested in retreating any further. It was a large black bear—definitely a fully-grown adult. I watched and got some pictures, then waited for him to retreat. I even walked about another 10-15 yards, thinking that would get him moving, but he did not budge. So I did: I was close to where I needed to turn around anyway, and who knows when the next human will be up here (spring?), so I didn’t want to take any chances.
I walked about ¼ mile downstream, looking back to see that he never moved. I parked in a pleasant sunny meadow just above the creek and enjoyed my lunch. I walked down to the creek, thinking I might ford and scramble the brushy slopes up to the base of the cliffs of Storm King, but the ford was not completely trivial, and in this cold weather it didn’t seem prudent to risk a fall and hypothermia when I didn’t need to get across. So I packed up and headed down. By now, the shadow of Goode and Storm King was reaching across the upper valley and it became much cooler, so I was happy to be heading down to where the sun was still shining.
This is a spectacular hike, although the fall colors are subdued: there are no larch here, and much of the huckleberry and other deciduous plants are dried up now. (The snow earlier this week may have finished them off.) This would be a spectacular trip to introduce someone to backpacking: three fairly easy 10-mile days (minimal elevation gain), an exciting but not life-threatening ford of Grizzly Creek, and a 2-night basecamp with light packs on day 2. What more could you want?
I got back to camp about 2:15—just in time to wash up a little, change socks and skivvies, and get clothes aired out, all in the last few minutes of warm sun.
A thin layer of benign-looking high clouds started rolling into the valley. This was a welcome development, since it will keep the temperature a little higher tonight if it holds. I read a chapter, then fixed my dinner of Pinnacle Pasta, trail mix, and a raspberry/lemon dark chocolate bar, with my constant chipmunk companion. I had a much easier time coaxing fire tonight, and it burned hotter, faster, and more completely. What a difference a day of sun makes for firewood. All in all, it has been a fantastic day, as I nurse my fire to the bitter end and call it a night at about 8:30, retiring to the tent to write in my trip log.
Day 3: 10 miles, 400 feet gained, 1,600 feet lost (+ 8 bonus miles)
At 7:15, it was very lightly raining or snowing, as it had been for some time. But it was the lightest possible precipitation: no worries. I finished my book in the tent. It was warmer last night (maybe 25-30?) and I slept pretty well. I cooked breakfast (something I haven’t done much recently) and hit the trail about 9:15. I was at Bridge Creek camp at about 11:45. There was little sun and it was kindof chilly. I had lots of time, so I did something I never do: got out the stove and cooked Thai noodle soup mix for lunch. It really hit the spot.
I took the old river road the next mile down to Shady Camp, since I had taken the PCT route on the way up. I saw the impressive washout at Shady Camp, and at about 1:30, was back at the truck at Carwash Falls, where the road is also washed out. I headed down, reaching the bakery at about 2:30. I was keen to get here, because it is the last day they are open for the season, and I wasn’t sure how late they’d stay open. I snagged an ice cream cone, some bread, and some gingerbread cookies and headed back up to the Harlequin Bridge and over to the Stehekin airstrip, where the Stehekin River Trail begins.
I hiked about a mile to Blackberry Creek, where I had seen the kokanee spawning a few days ago (armed with a camera this time), but there were far fewer fish. I continued a little further to a spot where you can see Rainbow Falls, and I bushwacked down to the river, because I had heard that this was the prime place to see the kokanee spawn. Alas, no fish: I think they have all made it further upstream or have died at this point. For some reason, I decided to continue the rest of the way to Weaver Point (the head of Lake Chelan, the mouth of the Stehekin River). I didn’t have a map with me now, but I was sure it was 3 total miles. (It was actually 4). I walked biskly, wanting to get home in time to shower and eat at a reasonable hour, so the 8-mile round trip took a little less than 2.5 hours. Just as I arrived at Weaver Point, a golden eagle took off very close to me and headed out over the lake. (I didn’t get a good picture.) As I was returning to the airstrip, I saw a funny sight: there were deer on the runway, and a pilot about to take off had to chase them off. (I took a picture, but it’s very blurry.)
2 comments:
Great report - sounds fantastic!
When I was around 12, I remember hiking a 3-day "North Cascades loop" with my family. Like you, we averaged about 10 miles a day.
It started in Manning Park in B.C., and went into Washington state.
I have no idea how far north you are - I should check a map - so I doubt, or don't know, that we crossed the same paths...
The bear pic was nice.
w
W-Where I was on this trip (which is the furthest north I've been) was about 16 miles form the border, as the crow flies, but a lot further by trail, of course. Where you went as a kid from Manning Park was probably the area where the Pacific Crest Trail crosses the border, just east of North Cascades NP. (North and East of here.) The closest I've ever been to the border in that area is Hart's Pass, which is about 32 miles by trail from the border.
Post a Comment