Picking a destination for this hike took a fair bit of pondering. I wanted a hike that could balance the chance of some fall colours, a good bit of distance/elevation gain, good local scenery (though the weather was supposed to clear up latered in the day, the early part of the hike was destined to be in the soup), and a chance of being largely unimpeded by snow. The West Fork Foss River seems to fit the bill.

The fall colours were still going, though they was past their peak. There were some magical stretches of trail that were delightfully carpeted in fallen leaves. Fanked in shades of brown and gold, Trout Lake was very pretty.

While is wasn't actively raining, the forest was wet. Several sections of the trail were mini-creek beds. After a little while, my clothing began to feel moist and my glasses kept fogging up...there was jsut a lot of water in the air. The nice trail work done by WTA this year was evident, though, as the trali was in generally great condition and all that water running down sections of hte trail was draining beautifully.

Traces of snow started to grace the trail near the top of the headwall before the Malachite Lake junction. These traces soon thickened to maybe 1" of intermittant, slushy snow. Nobody had been up there since the snow had fallen, so I was making fresh footsteps...kinda fun.

I took the side-trail up to Malachite Lake. I sloshed my way up a trail that was either covered with slushy snow or running water, and then suddenly stumbled out into a beautiful winter scene. The lake itself hasn't frozen over yet, but the surrounding cirque was bedecked with snow and ice.

I made my way by down to the junction and then proceeded onward towards Copper Lake. About 100' before reaching the lakeshore, the trail turned into a mini-lake. After poking around to try to find a way through, I concluded that unless I wanted to complete soak myself, I'd have to give up on going any farther. I did manage to push through the brush to get a peek at the lake...another gorgeous scene.

Earlier this year, I did the East Fork Foss River as a Spring hike, so doing the West Fork Foss in the Fall creates a nice symmetry to the year.

This was hike 21 of my 30/300/30000 @ 30 challenge.

1. Deception Pass
2. Wallace Falls
3. Spencer Island
4. E. Fork Foss River
5. Lake Serene
6. Wallace Falls
7. Goat Lake (N. Cascades)
8. Boulder River
9. Third Beach to Toleak Point (Overnight)
10. Big Quilcene/Marmot Pass (Overnight)
11. Lake 22
12. N. Fork Skokomish (Overnight)
13. Welcome Pass/High Divide
14. Golden Lakes/Sunset Park (Overnight)
15. Glacier Basin
16. Sunrise Area Trails
17. Park Butte
18. Mt. Pilchuck
19. Barclay Lake
20. Cutthroat Pass
21. West Fork Foss River

So far, with six very wet months left to go: 21 Hikes, 186.1 Miles, 40700' Elevation Gain.

Short version – we failed our ambitious one day loop goal on a minor technical detail of it taking almost 25 hours.

Long version started at 4 am on Saturday morning with me and two very brave companions who, apparently, don’t read my callouts carefully enough.

We started at West Foss River trailhead at 6:30 am with the first rays of sun poking through the forest. I actually found the forest walk part very entertaining. The forest there is very much alive, wet and green, nothing like dead dry trees you often see on the east slopes of Cascade Mountains. There are many wild mushrooms and berries and many animals – chipmunks, chickarees, frogs, mice and tons of pikas. And, yeah, some huge trees.
 
Alpine lakes (as soon as you get to them) are just amazing too. They have cleanest bluest water and it gets only cleaner and bluer with every next lake. And there are really many of them too. And finally they are huge, especially Big Heart and Angeline. Sometimes it feels like you are walking on an actual sea with mountains just poking out of water like islands. But why do alpine lakes only have female names? I’ve never seen a lake called Bob for some reason.

Without any adventures we soon reached the Big Heart Lake and the trail end. From there to the trail end of Necklace Valley trail I only had very approximate route registered on my GPS. I have drawn this route myself on a map from reading reports and following the topography. I generally tend to invent routes based on following ridges and also find that climbing up is easier than going down. So of we went on tiny overgrown boot track to the top of the ridge between Big Heart and Angeline. This is probably left by campers just searching for an optimal viewpoint for two lakes. And it is! On the top of this ridge we got to the point where we could see both huge lakes, almost as blue and pretty as the Crater Lake in Oregon.

From this ridge we dropped down all the way to where Chatwood lake outflows into Angeline Lake, almost to the Angeline Lake level. Next we scrambled back to the top on a very steep avalanche chute. We got to the land of granite, snowfields and boulders. On one of the snow fields Deep slipped and slide down a few feet into a huge hole, where the rock was poking out of the snow. Fortunately he was not hurt, but after this incident he because understandable cautious of snow. We tried to avoid snowfields and only do boulder hopping and this made us even slower, cause boulders are hard (this time of year ice is hard too, but easier to walk on).

Oh, and the mosquitos. I try not to use bug repellents as I consider myself to be their friend. As you know only female mosquitos drink blood and they only need for reproduction. Obviously I cannot refuse girls and I feel moral duty to help young mothers too. I also think people should really be proud that a wild animal like this even considers us humans for such an important role in its life as reproduction. Finally I don’t think killing mosquitos helps anyway. So I just try to bear with it. It was not easy. My body was covered with mosquitos at all times. Around the lakes, on the stones and on the glacial ice too. Some of them are stupid and would fly into my mouth and try to bite me inside too. And finally they would get into pictures all the time. I was appalled to see that mosquitos, just like humans, are eager to use completely unsustainable harvesting practices for their food. Hey, mosquitos, what gives?

Finally following the ridge we entered a huge granite circle with an Iron Cap lake inside. This place is magic and desolate. Only lots of snow and ice, deep blue water, glacier-polished granite and broken stones all around. There is no single sign of vegetation anywhere the eyes can see. And yet there were two hoary marmots looking at us from the rocks!

We dropped to the Iron Cap lake, touched the water and scrambled back up to the ridge. Boulder hopped all around Iron Cap mountain, dropped again and started on another ridge up to where Tank Lakes should be. Storm clouds where coming to the sky. It was 7 and soon became dark. Very dark, with no moon or stars. It is actually quite difficult to scramble in darkness. Well, maybe not. Some things are actually easier, cause you cannot see how exposed you are. But headlamps don’t give enough light to see where you are going too, so it is easy to get stuck under some walls you cannot climb. It took us three attempts of scrambling up and back down again before we could find a successful way up to the ridge. At the top we stopped to filter water from a small tarn. It is hard to see in the darkness and my GPS got accidentally dropped into the lake. Fortunately I didn’t loose it, but let me tell you something about my GPS. It was on a lot of adventures. It’s life is hard. On one of trips it got dropped on a rock so hard that some plastic part came off. The thing works still, but it is not waterproof anymore.

After dropping into the lake it stopped working. Here we are, in darkness, in the middle of nowhere with no map or compass, no food and no camping gear. It is quite cold too. There is a lot of snow around. To make things even better storm finally came and brought rain, heavy wind and lots of lightning. At this point we really wanted to call 911, which would be both embarrassing (considering two out of three on this hike are SAR volunteers) and impossible (because there is no cellphone reception in the wilderness). Staying in one place was also not an option, because we could freeze. I was thinking of starting a fire too, but it is quite hard to find burnable wood when it pours rain… on top of a snowfield… with only granite around.

So we wondered sometime around and around. From our last position I knew we are only .5 miles away from Tank lakes. Finally, I managed to find Tank lake in the darkness, matching its image with the what I have seen on the internet. More good luck followed and I managed to dry up my GPS a little and make it work again! With it we hopped on the boulder fields all the way down along the creek to the Opal Lake (we figured out that the creek has no choice but to lead us to it) and Necklace Valley trail end. It was around 1 am and we still had 9 miles to go to the car. Unfortunately the walk was slow. It was not difficult or tiresome, but I just felt so sleepy that my eyes would close automatically and stop registering the trail. I have no idea what happened or for how long but at some point I woke up to see three people (including myself) just sleeping dead dropped across the trail on bare earth. It could be 15 minutes only sleep, but somehow it helped a lot. With the new energy we managed to cover last two miles to the car and drive back to the city. We walked out to the trailhead a few minutes past 7 with the first light of sun poking through heavy rain, almost exactly the same as we started the trip, but almost 25 hours later.

My poor GPS registered 29.5 miles of walking, including whooping 19K feet of cumulative elevation gain from all the scrambling up and down. I proposed to go back immediately cause we have not really seen half of the lakes due to darkness, but somehow I didn’t get any enthusiastic response this time. And so we drove back.

The predicted weather was too good to pass up, and we had been waiting for the right day to do this hike again. We had done it before, the two of us, in 2005 and I had done it once before that, a lifetime ago in 1968.

We found our way to the Foss River Road off US 2, then via FRs 68 and 6835 to the trailhead. We welcomed the low air temperature, because it discouraged bugs, and because we knew a 3,600 foot elevation gain awaited us. As for the exact mileage we would travel, our sources disagreed: the trailhead sign said 7.5 miles to Big Heart Lake, the guidebook said only 6.5. Either way, it would be a long day.

The sun was bright on the surrounding peaks. But there had been heavy dew overnight, and leaves leaning over the trail were wet and cool.

We pressed on, reaching the river crossing. We knew the old bridge, and a major section of trail, had disappeared in the flood of 2006. A new bridge finally is under construction, but not yet available for use. We found the detour to the temporary crossing clearly flagged with bits of orange tape, beckoning us for some distance over cobbles until we reached the log. The log was moist from dew, and footing not the best, but we crossed easily using poles for balance.

Beyond the crossing, the trail passes over the remnant of a major debris flow. The path of the flow, originating high on Malachite Peak above us, was evident. But the trail itself had been recently reworked and footing was excellent.

Soon enough we reached Trout Lake in its forested setting, then began the uphill climb in earnest, heading toward Copper Lake. The way zig zags up, sometimes close to the white water stream, sometimes further away. Eventually, a large waterfall came into view, cascading down its rocky face, and we knew that Copper Lake was up there somewhere, well above the waterfall.

The trail here, and for much of the trip, has its share of rocks and roots. But recent rains had settled the dust and grit, and had brightened the mosses to a vivid green. So, while the the ascent required considerable effort, it was an exhilarating climb.

Before reaching Copper Lake, we noted the small, weathered sign indicating the side route to Lake Malachite. My hiking buddy Marin and I demurred, then decided for now to press on to Copper Lake, and beyond.

Copper Lake is aptly named, for the wonderful blue green water. Our route passed along its SE side, eventually climbing a bit to reach Little Heart Lake in its forested setting. Then it was up more switchbacks, and a traverse to a high point, before dropping down to Big Heart Lake. Along the way we encountered a Forest Service trail crew using cross-cut saws to remove a large blowdown.

We enjoyed a leisurely lunch at Big Heart Lake, taking in the views. There were a few mozzies, but they were not a problem as long as we stayed out in the breeze. The trail crew eventually joined us at the lake and, as we were about to leave, a young hiker arrived, minimally clad and toting a fishing rod.

On the descent from Big Heart Lake we paused to enjoy the view back down on Trout Lake (way down there) with Glacier Peak looming up on the far horizon.

Below Copper Lake, we again paused at the sign for the trail to Lake Malachite. We had only a modicum of remaining energy, but resolved to do the side trip to view that one additional lake. In elevation, Malachite is up only a couple of hundred feet, and the distance is not great. The trail is rather primitive, but in ten minutes or so we were looking out across Malachite Lake, and its surrounding cirque with a few snow banks remaining at the far end.

We returned to the main trail and continued our descent. Soon, we heard someone overtaking us from behind, and were surprised to find that it was the young fisherman we had seen at Big Heart Lake. He could not have spent more than a few minutes there, and it seemed a rather arduous hike for such a short interlude of fishing. I did not notice anything else about him, but Marin had some observations. As he was passing her, he asked somewhat nervously whether there was anyone behind him, and he seemed relieved when she told him "no." And, once he was past her, she noticed that he was packing a large pistol in a holster. She asked quietly whether he was a ranger, and he chuckled and replied "no." That was the extent of the exchange, and we did not see him after that. But it was a somewhat unusual encounter.

The rest of our descent was uneventful. At the river crossing the log had dried out and the footing was good. We were glad, finally, to reach the trailhead. It had been a very long, but enjoyable day on the trail.

Well, as we approah the coming rainy season, momma nature gave us a decent day for a hike. We decided to head further east to get away from the marine layer and it paid off with partly sunny skies, albeit still a bit chilly. Our destination today was Copper Lake - about an 8 mile round trip.

As the hike description says, this is a fairly strenuous hike, particularly from Trout Lake to Copper Lake - but the reward at the end was worth it! The trail is actually in really good shape - but the tread is consistently rooty and rocky making for slow going. It took us 3 hours to get to Copper Lake.

The trail to the river crossing is well maintained; the detour to the log crossing is well marked; the crossing was dry and easy (but this could quickly change as the rains come); the trail up to Trout Lake was narrow and overgrown in places, but easily followed. If you're hiking with kids, I'd suggest you make Trout Lake your destination and call it a day. From Trout Lake the going gets extremely rough with a continuous climb (I believe you gain most of the 2,800' elevation in this section of the trail). The alpine views and falls were absolutely stunning (you're heading for the top of them!); the creek crossing was easy (the bridge here is in great shape). And we LOVED the creek crossing at the lake's outlet.

We spent about an hour or so at the lake resting, eating some lunch, and soaking up the sun breaks. The trip back took about 2 1/2 hours - still some rough slogging but thankfully you're going downhill! So, about an 8 hour hike. Overall a great day.