Bailey Range Traverse — Friday, Jul. 15, 2005

Olympic Peninsula > Northern Coast

It’s mid July, 2005 in the high country of Olympic National Park, and three of us begin what was to become my greatest journey and challenge of my backpacking life. Only two of us would eventually finish it ten days later. The Bailey Range. Its name evokes mystery and awe in many due to its remoteness, ruggedness and legendary beauty. It’s the backbone of the Olympic Mountains with see-forever views seemingly from the top of the world. Only a scant two years earlier I would have never dreamed of attempting such a trek; but after much mountaineering training, more experience, waiting, dreaming and planning the day finally arrives. (I’ll give the reader a choice of how to view the trip photos. You can view the entire album in its entirety here: http://community.webshots.com/album/406158662cbyngm Or you can view individual photos that apply to the daily trip report at the end of each segment.) Day One Gobluehiker, Kathy and I (Hoosierdaddy) were dropped off at the Olympic Hot Springs trailhead on a sunny Saturday afternoon with the long range forecast calling for above average temperatures, sunny days and cool nights. Our plan was to hike up to Appleton Pass before nightfall and make camp, then take the Cat Creek Way Trail the following day and camp at Cat Lake. Kathy and I had just done the Cat Creek Way trail three weeks prior and I knew the route would be good. Gobluehiker really wanted to see this part of the Olympics. Off we went, passing numerous day hikers coming back from the Hot Springs. I’m amazed at a group of three guys that are pulling wheeled airline luggage behind them while one in their group has a large yellow Dewalt boom-box on his shoulders that is blaring rap music. We arrive at Appleton Pass at dusk and it has cooled off quickly. The wind is constant and intense. We quickly set up camp in the slight protection of the trees. A chilly, restless night is spent by all of us. (Below are photos of day one) http://community.webshots.com/photo/406452439ToAnuv http://community.webshots.com/photo/406439675mqwvSV Day Two The day begins early with the wind still howling, but it quickly dissipates and it starts to warm up. A quick breakfast is made and we set off headed east along the ridge. We soon get our first in your face of Mt. Olympus. It’s an intricate jumble of rock and ice continuously visible throughout nearly the entire rest of the trek. It’s kind of like hiking around an 8000’ tall statue in that you get a constantly changing view daily. By mid morning we make it to Spread Eagle Pass where we decided to break off the route and try to find Herb Crisler’s Hot Cake Shelter that I’d heard exists in the valley 700’ below the pass in a pretty little meadow. Many years ago the film maker had reportedly made several shelters in this part of the Olympics in order to have base camps to go between while filming. Legend has it that this particular shelter is named because Crisler packed in a HUGE cast iron griddle that is still present. Well, after scrambling and bushwhacking in the area, I finally located the shelter (or what was left of it) just to the north of the meadow. It was flattened probably by heavy snows a year or two previous. The “griddle” was still there though! It wasn’t actually a round, hot cake griddle but a square, flat piece of ¾ inch thick iron that probably weighed 75 plus pounds! We also found a couple of old rusty cans and a length of rope probably used by Crisler. We climbed back up to Spread Eagle Pass and continued on our journey. The heat was oppressive and the sweat just poured from us. Kathy was starting to lag behind somewhat due to a knee injury that was beginning to bother her. Upon taking a break at the beginning of the third cirque, we spotted a solo hiker headed toward us in the distance. He was acting strangely, first climbing slightly above the obvious trail, and then sliding down below it before scrambling back up to the trail. He would often stop, look behind him then look intensely toward where we were sitting. We continued onward and intended to greet him to find out if he was alright; however when we arrived at the spot where he should have been….he was gone! There weren’t that many places that he could be, so apparently he was intentionally hiding from us? We waited a few minutes until it became obvious that he didn’t want to be seen or contacted and we left. Strange. We continued onward and finally arrived at Cat Lake located on a shelf above the Cat Creek Basin. A very nice spot to camp in spite of the voracious skeeters! Gobluehiker (GBH from now on) and I simply set up bug netting over our sleeping bags and called it camp, while Kathy set up her tent. The bugs went away after dark and it was a beautiful, warm & starry night right above my eyes. I’ve never seen so many stars before! (Below are photos of day two) http://community.webshots.com/photo/406431769SzCXIN http://community.webshots.com/photo/406456460MNkbGf http://community.webshots.com/photo/406472816BECbTZ http://community.webshots.com/photo/406471527EPKFCB http://community.webshots.com/photo/406458875fiKHWI http://community.webshots.com/photo/406457250kAdJtV http://community.webshots.com/photo/406491072MLmnEE http://community.webshots.com/photo/408443198tGwdZO http://community.webshots.com/photo/408444541oDWzLV Day Three Kathy advised that her knee had swollen overnight and gotten worse. She thought it ill-advised for her attempt to continue on what was certain to become rougher and rougher terrain. She would stay an extra day at this camp, then hobble out to the nearby Sol-Duc Trailhead and get a ride home and perhaps try this another day. So, we sadly parted ways with only GBH and me continuing on the journey. We traveled south on the manicured High Divide Trail as it went below Cat Peak and eventually stops at a cliff face where the trail’s builders, The Civilian Conservation Corps, ran out of funding in the 1930’s. Right there, in the middle of the trail was a family of four mountain goats! There were two adults and a pair of very cute twin babies. These were the first goats I’ve ever seen and danged if they weren’t fearful of us at all! We got to within 10 feet of them before they only slightly moved away, but still blocked the trail that we needed to head upwards on. We rested for a few minutes in hopes that they would move away, and then I remembered how pesky many deer can be in their search for salt when the call of nature has struck me in the wilderness before and I hoped that goats would be the same way, so…..both GBH and I heeded that call of nature down the trail somewhat and sure enough the goats ran right over to that spot, leaving the trail open to our advancement! The manicured trail had ended and the route now leads pretty much straight up to the ridge top a distance of about 250’ causing us to claw, climb and pull our way up to the beginning of The Catwalk. I’ve heard legends about this thing and sure enough, my nightmares seemed about to come true. I’m no slouch when it comes to scrambling and exposure, but DANG! This arête swaling before us looked intimidating as all get out! “Holy Crap!” I said to GBH and told him to tell my probably soon-to-be-widowed-wife that I loved her before we began our initial descent onto the knife edged connecting ridge. The Catwalk has several different possible routes that one can take, depending on how foolish or lucky you are. When we found ourselves hanging over a couple thousand feet of air, we retreated and looked for a different route. We soon found that the “correct” route was the one that had all the goat hair stuck on the bushes and rock edges. It seems that the goats know the “easy” way across! We finally made it relatively unscathed save for a couple of punctures to the palm of my right hand when I was hanging onto a prickly branch in what technically is called a Vegetable Belay. Boston Charlie’s Camp is immediately on the far side of the Catwalk and it’s not much more that a very welcome flat spot with a small, mosquito larva infested stagnant pool of water that we happily and greedily filled our water containers from. The water tasted much better than it looked. We moved on and soon were at the grassy meadow at the base of Mt. Carrie. We dropped our packs, grabbed a liter of water and began a scramble with the intent to summit Carrie. (6995’) The higher we got, the more open and gorgeous the views became. The full gleaming majesty of the glaciers and spires of Mt. Olympus was ever present. The silver, glistening ribbon of the Hoh River shimmered down in the forested valley below us. The Catwalk looked deceptively easy as we viewed it from high above. Up and up we scrambled on loose scree, dirt and rock until we neared the false summit at 6750’. As hard as we looked, we could not see a viable route ahead of us that did not involve certain death leading over the sharp rocks jutting precariously from the mountain ridge. (We had no ropes or protection with us) Sigh….Foiled again. We took a few photos and began clambering back downwards. After a few minutes and with still nearly 500’ of vertical descent to go before reaching the packs, I spotted the enemy below. It was the same family of mountain goats that had apparently followed us over The Catwalk and were now making a beeline for our unprotected, sweat encrusted, and salty tasting packs! We had created a monster and they wanted more salt!! I yelled to GBH that we had better head ‘em off, so we began a straight down, rapid descent toward the packs. I’m sure that my legs were just a blur as they were whizzing through the heather. I also soon realized that heather was a tad more slippery than scree as you’re running down through it at breakneck speed, and found myself a**hole over tea kettle on more than one occasion. The open Marmot holes didn’t help with secure footing either! Well, I made it to the packs with time to spare and the goats apparently decided that facing the lunatic that had just tumbled down the slope above them wasn’t worth the reward, so they went away merrily munching on grass. We shouldered our packs and continued on our journey once again. We soon reached the first of four steep, scree gullies that we had to cross. They were all ankle wrenchingly uneven, coursed steeply upwards, then downwards and most of the available tread was sloped outwards which lead to the valley floor, many hundreds of feet below us. Foot placement required constant care and the mental attrition really wears on you! But, we kept in mind that it’s just a way-trail made only by the footsteps of our predecessors and we slowly and carefully negotiated our way through this intense 2 mile section until arriving at the flat, grassy meadow area of Eleven Bull Basin that would be our haven for the night. Wildflowers were abundant with bees humming busily at nearly all of them. Several watercourses flowed down from the peaks above, with waterfalls interspersed here and there made an idyllic setting. Our lofty view perch provided a corridor view of the Hoh River nearly 3000 feet below us, curving westward down the valley toward the ocean many miles away. We set up our bags, once again with only bug netting over us and settled in. As the sun set, the alpenglow on snow-clad Mt. Olympus was awe inspiring and beautiful! It looked like a giant orange snow cone! The sounds of the waterfalls, a nearly full moon, the bright stars and a tired body helped me drift off to a peaceful sleep. (Below are photos of day three) http://community.webshots.com/photo/408444594IdUvKK http://community.webshots.com/photo/408445847tFMNZv http://community.webshots.com/photo/406512846EppFnV http://community.webshots.com/photo/408445997AJhdsZ http://community.webshots.com/photo/408447131NSFohc http://community.webshots.com/photo/408447367ZVbJUe http://community.webshots.com/photo/408448735tECvNf http://community.webshots.com/photo/408448785zsBimr http://community.webshots.com/photo/408449682vSScvf http://community.webshots.com/photo/408460790VpDxCN http://community.webshots.com/photo/408461307BKDpMY http://community.webshots.com/photo/408461343fovkmy http://community.webshots.com/photo/408461424BiPHST http://community.webshots.com/photo/408461470OzIgWH http://community.webshots.com/photo/408462488BqItwz http://community.webshots.com/photo/408462602GWuIcX http://community.webshots.com/photo/408462657adzCRZ http://community.webshots.com/photo/408463247pTndfr http://community.webshots.com/photo/408463835DSikRR http://community.webshots.com/photo/408463957aAHMgd http://community.webshots.com/photo/408472580huDgGX Day Four The day began with an impressive sight. A level layer of clouds had moved in from the coast and up the Hoh River valley below us, hanging motionless over the river at an elevation of about 2000’. For all the world it looked like a glacier had filled the valley. Above it; blue sky, bright sunshine and us. GBH commented that it is obvious how the Hoh Valley is actually a rain forest. If not for all the rain it receives, the moisture from the clouds we were seeing help perpetuate the setting. We packed up and set off southward again. Today we set our sights on Ferry Basin, but we wanted to avoid what has been described as the “Cream Lake Vortex” with its steep, unforgiving gullies, thick tangles of slide alder and hordes of blood thirsty mosquitoes, and instead travel off the beaten path, up and over the high ridge above us to the north and east of Stephen Peak before making our way down to Ferry Basin. Looking at the steep terrain above us, it seemed a daunting task indeed. We soon arrived at a large meadow-bowl that had a minor lateral ridge at the far end of it with a treeless saddle near its top. We began climbing the steep, grassy and talus strewn bowl to attain the saddle, switch backing up and up. We found many flattened areas of grass indicating that a heard of elk had recently bedded on the slope. We finally reaching the small saddle on the minor lateral ridge and from there we simply followed game trails another 200’ to the top of the major ridge. It was grassy, nearly level with a small snow-melt tarn nearby and would have made an excellent camp spot, having excellent views of nearby Stephen Peak, the south side of Mt. Ruth and lesser peaks. Below us in a beautiful valley was the very large and bright turquoise appearing, Stephen Lake. We gingerly picked our way eastward down a steep talus slope and to a knoll above Stephen Lake where we snacked and viewed possible routes ahead of us. We knew that we had to continue east, then climb onto the shoulder of Stephen Peak and continue to traverse to the south side of it. The best route appeared to be a scramble up a treed gully system on the far side of the lake to the NE shoulder of Stephen. We traversed on scree above the lake to the gullies, then climbed up talus and bushwhacked through the trees in the gullies which opened into a more alpine setting the higher we got. The heat was becoming oppressive and it slowed our progress significantly. Finally attaining the altitude we needed on the east shoulder of Stephen, we could see only barren rock and snow ahead of us on a sloping plateau that we needed to cross. We alternated between rock and snow on the easy traverse, trying to maintain a constant altitude in order to attain the ridgeline on the south side of Stephen. The snow was severely sun-cupped, making travel all that much slower and we used our ice axes mainly for security. We eventually strode onto the treed ridge and the welcome shade of a copse of trees. It had been nearly 5 hours since we had left our camp at Eleven Bull Basin. We rested and took in the view of the rolling, meadowy terrain of Ferry Basin nearly 1000’ below us. A game trail was very evident going southward right along the ridge crest in front of us, so we followed it until it petered out at a cliff-face about a mile along the ridge. From there it was a very steep parachute drop for nearly 500’ down a dirt & scree gully with many Hanging Vegetable Belays and large tumbling rocks being accidentally rolled down the slope in front of us. We eventually broke out onto the open heather slopes above the basin and made our way downward and across the basin toward our next camp which was Lake Billy Everett. The lake was beautiful! It was set at the base of rolling hills and had a perfectly flat rocky area next to it. Slightly above the lake was a flat grassy saddle that would be our camp because we hoped it would have enough of a breeze to keep the ever present hoard of blood-sucking skeeters at bay. We set up our bags with only bug netting again, then decided that we were sufficiently sweaty and funky enough to warrant bathing before contaminating our bags. Although beautiful to look at, Lake Billy Everett is not warm! We found a little sun-warmed tarn on the rock flats next to it that had tepid water and made a great spot to wash off a crusty layer of the Olympics. We returned to our camp, and ate dinner while doing the “Skeeter Dance” which consists of moving and walking quickly around the camp site while slapping, swatting and scratching at various body parts all the while eating your dinner. Thank God no one was watching because I’m a horrible dancer! After dark the incessant hum of the little shits quickly dissipated and the night was blessedly free of insects. Every star imaginable seemed to be displayed just for me that night. I drifted off among them as I closed my sleepy eyes. (Below are photos of day four) http://community.webshots.com/photo/408472612yaCSJx http://community.webshots.com/photo/408473671WzARGT http://community.webshots.com/photo/408474089qHGtxU http://community.webshots.com/photo/408473931dRPRcv http://community.webshots.com/photo/408474784teQEgw http://community.webshots.com/photo/408475222qeQWjG http://community.webshots.com/photo/408475280WBZXCo http://community.webshots.com/photo/408475892joXeXy http://community.webshots.com/photo/408476402QHmzEh http://community.webshots.com/photo/408477472eJxSwa http://community.webshots.com/photo/408477931aJsEjn http://community.webshots.com/photo/408486851fllcFD http://community.webshots.com/photo/408487543zPuLJp http://community.webshots.com/photo/408488776FxHrWo Day Five GBH and I originally had planned to make this a layover day, but after washing our clothes and standing around learning more moves of the Skeeter Dance until noon, both of us were restless and we decided to forge ahead a few miles to a nice camping spot on the south side of Mt. Pulitzer that GBH knew from his Queets / Bailey trip of last year. Again the day was hot, but we were in no hurry to make this next camp as it was a short distance away so we took frequent breaks in whatever shade we could find. We climbed out of the basin to the shores of Lake Pulitzer, which is the melt water from the nearly extinct Pulitzer glacier that is just barely present on the north side of Pulitzer. The terrain became a jumble of pulverized rocks and large glacier scoured rocks, showing very distinct striation marks on them from when the glacier was doing it’s thing in the past. We went up and over the shoulder of Pulitzer to an altitude of 6100’, nervously noting that the boot tread on the route now followed right along the very damn rim of the sheer and undoubtedly bottomless cliff that separated the east from the west side of the range. We switch backed down a dirt slope to a little flat, grassy spot that is barely visible on the Topo maps just south of Pulitzer. It had a copse of trees and a crystal clear snow melt tarn right there. It made a perfect camp! Since it had no name that either of us knew of, I have forever dubbed it “Carol Camp” in honor of my wife. (I earned some brownie points there, guys!) Upon our arrival, the wind was blowing and due to the camp’s exposed location at nearly 6000’ we believed the wind would probably continue all night, so we set up our tarps to shield us from it. Well, wouldn’t you know just before dark the wind died down and we didn’t need the tarps at all. It was probably a good thing we left them up though, because it got cold that night and they no doubt kept a little of our body heat from escaping! (Below are photos of day five) http://community.webshots.com/photo/408489101DtkJle http://community.webshots.com/photo/408489253MiuhpX http://community.webshots.com/photo/408490473JlKlIn http://community.webshots.com/photo/408490447ZfqwEQ http://community.webshots.com/photo/408491139JauEvW Day Six At 5:15 in the morning, there were ice crystals on my pack and the little snow melt tarn had nearly ¼ inch of ice formed on it! My thermometer read 30 degrees. GBH said that his 45 degree rated REI Travel Down quilt hadn’t been a whole lot of help during the chilly night. The hot oatmeal that I had for breakfast never tasted so good! It warmed up very quickly when the bright sun hit us and by 7:30 AM it was nearly 60 degrees and rising quickly. Our first challenge of the day was in less than ¼ mile from camp. We had to climb up the very steep, rock hard, icy snow which was just south of the camp. For the first time, we got to break out our crampons which had just been dead weight until now and also use the ice axe for what it was intended for. The crampons only bit into the ice a slight amount, but it was more than enough to give us sure footing as we plodded up the steep ice for a couple hundred vertical feet before turning slightly west and traversing across at a gentler angle to the top. Off went the crampons for about 10 minutes until we reached the next snow/ice field which was at the north side of Mt. Childs. This time the ice was not so steep, albeit much longer in distance. We could see that this was actually part of a glacier as there were a series of crevasses just below our intended route. Back on went the crampons and I ventured out first, staying well above the danger on firm (but icy) snow. Soon, GBH followed and we eventually met on the far south side at the top of a rocky ridge. Off came the crampons again and we had to scramble down some fairly steep dirt / scree to a narrow snow and rock valley which was east of Mt. Childs. After a few more ups and down, we sat on barren rock in the slight shade of a large cairn that someone had made and ate our lunch. The route seemed pretty obvious from this point on, simply following the ridge crest as it traveled south. It was getting hotter and hotter. We continued on in the barrens and crossed more snowfields, but these were pretty benign and gentle in slope so no crampons were needed. GBH commented that he had never sweated so much while walking on snow! Due to the very reflective nature of sunlight on snow, we had to smear sunscreen up inside our nostrils (not pleasant!) in order to prevent a painful inside the nose sunburn. Soon we reached the bottom (north side) of Bear Pass. It is a very large, gently upward sloping snowfield with crevassed ice at its base, far below our route. We were taking a break at a ridge top overlooking the snowfield just prior to venturing out on it. The temperature on my thermometer read 104 degrees! (In the sun) I had my pack off and was applying more sunscreen, when I heard a little “Pop” then a muffled “Sssssssss” sound from the top lid of my pack. I immediately thought that my little can of Deet had exploded in the intense heat! Not relishing the thought of the Deet eating away at all the plastic & nylon contents of my pack, I leapt into action by quickly unzipping the top lid and deftly shaking and dumping all its contents on the ground. GBH had not heard the sounds and apparently thought that I had just lost my mind as I heard him say, “What the…..” Well, the Deet was fine, but I found that my blue colored Bic lighter HAD split its plastic sides from the heat and was in the process of emptying butane everywhere. Fortunately butane evaporates quickly and nothing was harmed. Also fortunately, GBH soon realized that I had apparently not had a brain meltdown like he had probably thought a few moments ago, (I think) plus he had a spare lighter that he gave me. We continued and crossed the snow of Bear Pass, attaining it’s rocky crest and got our first sight of Dodwell-Rixon Pass below us. I had a pre-conceived notion of what Dodwell-Rixon must look like and this wasn’t it. Somehow I expected a green, Eden-like setting but here was…..nothing! No fruit trees, serpents, singing cherubs or people wearing fig leaves. It was desolate, barren, rolling, scoured rock and a couple of little melt-water tarns. Sigh…yet another fantasy shot down. It was now about 2PM and after a quick snack and refilling our water, GBH and I decided to “Go for the gold”. We figured that we still had about 8 - 9 hours of daylight left and decided that we’d go ahead and descend the infamous Elwha snow finger which was in view at the head of the pass. It took us another hour to make our way down & across to the snow finger. Peering down the narrow and steep gully, all I could see was rushing water and a lot of big rocks interspersed with bits of chewed up logs and debris. We began our descent from the high country. The way was a rough one, with steep rock and dirt sides, the gully directed us ever downwards. We had to boulder hop and make our way over the chewed up pieces of logs and debris, apparent leftovers from previously melted snow, slides or perhaps pissed off Bigfoot attacks at previous backpackers that have dared to enter their realm! The sun was relentless, there wasn’t a breeze to speak of and the rocks held their heat quite well. Down and down we went, going slowly so as not to wrench an ankle or fall off a boulder or log. Soon after rounding a slight curve we spotted three humans coming up the snow finger! People…what a treat! As we approached I could see that a male was leading the way and two females followed. I looked harder and said, “Hey! I know you! Aren’t you Bryan?!” It was a N.P.S. employee that I know from the Wilderness Information Center in Port Angeles where he works. In fact just a couple of weeks earlier he and I discussed this trip and he had told me that he would be doing the Elwha trail at the same time I would be on the Bailey’s, but I didn’t expect to run into him. Small world, huh? We chatted for a few minutes, exchanging route information then went on our ways. Soon, GBH and I reached the Snow Dome that we had heard stories about and Bryan had given us route advise on. The Snow Dome is the result of numerous converging snow chutes from the surrounding peaks far above the snow finger gully. As avalanches occur, thousands of tons of snow are dumped into one central spot in the Elwha snow finger gully, and then solidifies into a huge icy plug. The Dome was impressive to say the least. It was probably 75 feet high and has the appearance of a glacier with its blue ice color and many crevasses on top. The Elwha River has carved a huge tunnel through the center of the ice plug, leaving a tunnel large enough to drive a train through. Only a suicidal fool would attempt to walk through the tunnel to the opposite side, so the correct way to continue our journey was to claw and crawl our way up the very loose dirt on the north side of the gully next to the ice and get out onto the top of the Dome. The whole thing was about 100 yards in length. We put on our crampons since the surface was slick and hard ice, sprinkled with bits of wood debris from the Bigfoot Wars. The top was heavily cracked and crevassed. We gingerly threaded and weaved our way between and stepped over them, being ever so cautious to stay away from not only the crevasses, but numerous large holes that water was pouring down into, and out of sight below. There was the ever present darkened, dirty appearing ice running along the center of the Dome that heralded the huge tunnel that had been carved under it. We stayed a healthy distance from it, trying to tread on apparently thick ice nearer the north side. Still, it was a puckering traverse. (My doctor says that my sphincter should eventually relax in a few more weeks) We made our way off the Dome and continued on down the gully, boulder hopping all the way. I slipped off a couple of boulders, not only dunking my foot in the water, but I scraped & bloodied up my shin pretty well. Chicks dig scars though, right? After nearly another mile, we came to a large cairn placed on a car sized boulder in the middle of the gully. This signaled a way trail that would get us up and around a particularly nasty, vertical sided gorge just ahead. We spotted flagging in the trees and began to make our way up the extremely steep canyon walls in the thick trees on what would pass for a poor mountain goat trail. The route was quite difficult to follow, especially with a full pack, but infinitely more do-able than the gorge reportedly was. Eventually we broke out into a large meadow with a huge waterfall above us. The way trail continued down the meadow and would lead us back to the Elwha River on the far side of the gorge and the actual maintained upper Elwha trail. We followed it and soon saw our first bear of the trip. He could have cared less about us and lumbered off into the ever thickening brush. With the bear lurking somewhere in the thick brush, I was a little worried of being mistaken for a tasty morsel so we began talking and singing to the bear, just to let him know that we were still around. I’m sure the singing scared the hell out of him and he’s probably still running! The brush thickened even more and the way trail soon petered out. GBH lamented that today was a hell of a day for him to wear shorts since the brush, stickers and thorns were now shredding his bare legs and the dripping blood would surely attract the rare & elusive Olympic River Shark when we entered the water again. We eventually broke out of the steamy jungle at the edge of the Elwha River again, right where we needed to cross it and begin the Elwha Trail. We had to don our sandals at this point to cross and the cold water really stung the bleeding cuts and scrapes on our legs. (Or maybe it was the sharks nibbling at us?) It was dusk by now and we thought it was possible that we could make it to Chicago Camp by the time it got dark. We soon found that the “maintained” trail was anything but that! There were numerous trail washouts requiring route finding around them. The Elwha River had done quite a job on these upper reaches of the trail that don’t get much maintenance attention. Our pace was slowed significantly and we had to put on our headlamps to continue. After about two miles we found our haven for the night: The Happy Hollow shelter. No one was there and it was in incredible shape for a shelter that had stood since at least the sixties, judging from the graffiti on its walls. It was 10:30 PM and had been about a 9 mile day. Pretty incredible for the Bailey Range and we were exhausted. We put our bags on the smooth bunk boards of the shelter (I didn’t tell GBH about the Black Widow Spiders that I saw in the rafters above us!) and immediately drifted off to sleep. (Below are photos of day six) http://community.webshots.com/photo/408491537IpoHYE http://community.webshots.com/photo/408491919SNuGXs http://community.webshots.com/photo/408492687iVaasX http://community.webshots.com/photo/408492822BWeQhY http://community.webshots.com/photo/408505561xvsfGm http://community.webshots.com/photo/408506516VbUtpn http://community.webshots.com/photo/408506554PyMSdh http://community.webshots.com/photo/408507316rpsPNp http://community.webshots.com/photo/408507720VFHLir http://community.webshots.com/photo/408508515wjnmlE http://community.webshots.com/photo/408508810hEgiSL http://community.webshots.com/photo/408509574WThzTX http://community.webshots.com/photo/408509710ZFxNRw http://community.webshots.com/photo/408510152hcMNmR Day Seven I awoke to a strange sound in the early dawn hours. It was rain on the roof above me! For the first time in our journey it was raining. It was sooooooo nice to just lay there, all warm, cozy, high and dry, listening to the downpour. I drifted off again and when I woke up the rain had stopped and the morning sun was just starting to warm things enough to cause wisps of steam to snake upwards from the lush plants around the shelter. It was a lazy morning and we were in no hurry to start it because we only had about 4 miles until we reached our goal of Low Divide. We ate a leisurely breakfast, and then took our time re-packing all our gear, finally getting moving around 11:00 AM. We made our way once again in the increasing daytime heat to Chicago Camp a scant 7 tenths of a mile away. We donned our sandals for a river crossing in the ankle to shin deep water which felt divine on our hot feet. We sat on the warm but shaded sandbar on the opposite side of the river and ate a snack, just drinking in the wilderness: The sounds of the river as it gurgled by, the smells of the wet and warming vegetation as it dried out from this mornings rain, the chatter of a Douglas squirrel in the trees above us, the squawk of a Stellar Jay that flitted from branch to branch. Now, THIS is what I come to the wilderness for! THIS is living! GBH and I philosophized that THIS is where we all actually belong. The longer one stays in the wilderness, the more one realizes that mankind was meant to live out here…..not in a box in some alternate reality called “civilization” which is far removed from the simplicity of where we seem to gravitate back to when we can. Do you ever wonder why it’s so peaceful & relaxing when you’re really out there? Home usually is, ya know. OK, enough daydreaming and back on the trail. We headed up the trail to Low Divide where we would camp and wait for Rainrunner and my son, Altidude to arrive on Saturday. The trail switchbacks up and up from the lowlands to eventually top out at Lake Mary & Lake Margaret at about 3600 feet. Both of these lakes were sparkling and in the full view of Mt. Seattle which was looming above. Directly behind the lakes were Mt. Christie and numerous lesser peaks, making quite a beautiful setting. As we headed for the intended camp spot, we rounded a curve and startled a bear that was standing in the trail less than 50 feet in front of us. Startled us, too! I have never seen a bear do this, but the hair down the center of his back stood up, just like a dog that was mad! Obviously he wasn’t happy at our presence, but he slowly ambled off into the bushes, all the while looking back at us. More bear singing ensued and we walked nervously the remaining 300 yards to our camp site and set up our tarps. No one else seemed to be at Low Divide. I had stayed at Low Divide before and knew that fires were authorized. I usually don’t make one while in the back country, because I am not at a low enough altitude (Under 3500’) for them to be legal, so this was kind of a treat. We sat on cut log ends, cooked our dinner next to the fire and poked at it discussing life until it was dark and there was nothing left to poke at but coals. It’s been a good day…..again. (Below are photos of day seven) http://community.webshots.com/photo/408510755toVLKB http://community.webshots.com/photo/408522651BZnnuk http://community.webshots.com/photo/408523836AJoqTu http://community.webshots.com/photo/408524522RXJLBk Day Eight, Day Nine, Day Ten This has been a trip report relating primarily to the Bailey Range, so the remainder of the trip is not of significance to this report. Suffice to say that on Day Eight, GBH and I day-hiked in the area of Low Divide, going up to Martin’s Lakes before only Rainrunner arrived on schedule in the evening. (My son had taken ill and couldn’t come along with her) The rest of the trip was to be on the 30.1 mile Skyline Trail which Rainrunner and I did from south to north, just last September. On Day Nine, all three of us left Low Divide, went up the Skyline Trail and camped overnight near Kimta Peak. On Day Ten, we finished the Skyline trail arriving at the North Fork Quinault Ranger Station at about 4: 30 PM. This has been the culminating trip of my backpacking career to date. It’s been the hardest thing that I’ve ever done in one stretch and yet it’s been the most rewarding at the same time. Funny how that happens, huh? I want to personally thank Gobluehiker and Rainrunner for the encouragement and support they gave, without even being asked. You guys know what you did and what that meant to me. As I write this, my mind is still in the high country and probably will be for some time. It’s a good feeling. I hope that I can retreat to the vivid memories of this, my true home, when the troubles & stresses of our “civilized” life overtake me from time to time. Hoosierdaddy. (Below are photos of day eight, nine and ten) http://community.webshots.com/photo/408525025pEksHK http://community.webshots.com/photo/408525673JVrVIl http://community.webshots.com/photo/408526178JqDWud http://community.webshots.com/photo/408527139SezUFx http://community.webshots.com/photo/408527812vQdCUE http://community.webshots.com/photo/408528167LuIZNF http://community.webshots.com/photo/408528653JUASIP http://community.webshots.com/photo/408529639fwKJHn http://community.webshots.com/photo/408538464geUmCf http://community.webshots.com/photo/408539297DsLkfM http://community.webshots.com/photo/408539449lFQVlV http://community.webshots.com/photo/408540119UarVPq http://community.webshots.com/photo/408540547ZjqjIw http://community.webshots.com/photo/408541591sltnYI http://community.webshots.com/photo/408541866UxrdfX http://community.webshots.com/photo/408541972tkiuCu http://community.webshots.com/photo/408542102OScvxn http://community.webshots.com/photo/408543102EskPno http://community.webshots.com/photo/408543617ayovNX http://community.webshots.com/photo/408543848fTHYJB http://community.webshots.com/photo/408543972qkKkEw http://community.webshots.com/photo/408543982NiWhCR http://community.webshots.com/photo/408544449iETaEH http://community.webshots.com/photo/408545127yIBuTo http://community.webshots.com/photo/408545438DxLRIL