Mom and daughter honoring the life of our beloved son and brother Diego, with the traditional multi-night backpacking trip for 6 days/5 nights. The meaning of the dates: Diego was born on a July 17 and died on a July 22. This is our ritual for the third anniversary: Finding You There, 2021. 

Day 1 - Fri Jul 17^th – Thirty-Eight Birthday - We gathered to have a wonderful Venezuelan breakfast to honor Diego on his birthday. Arepas, eggs, malta and birthday cake. Holding hands, we sang happy birthday, in silence. About noon, after this forever-emotional birthday,  we hit the road making a stop in Randle to get Mount Saint Helens postcards and some chips. Per our calculations, we would arrive at the first campsites on the trail at 2000 hrs. This could cause us to have to set up camp at night if any inconvenience should happen to us. So  better safe than sorry, we checked-in at North Fork Campground at 1600, and we would hit the trail the day after.

We had, honestly, the best campsite of the campground: No. 2. Very ample, next to the water, at a lower level of the campground road and close to the restrooms. We set up our tent, walked around the grounds, played cards, made dinner, had coffee, and simply enjoyed the quietness of our setting. Under the beautiful forest, we fell asleep. Diego would be thirty-eight today.

Day 2 – Sun Jul 18^th – A Rocky Mattress and The Von Trapp Family - Divide and conquer. I was in charge of breakfast, daughter in charge of picking up tent. We have become proficient and what to do when, and we take our time to ensure everything is perfectly packed. After having our oatmeal and coffee, we cleaned up the rest of the camp and left. The drive was about one hour to Green Trail Horse Camp where we would leave the car. Though road 26 had some significant potholes, it was not too bad. Fortunately, the few people we encountered along the twelve miles of this almost one single lane forest road, drove with caution, and there was politeness to let pass whomever had more chance to pass.

We parked at the Horse Camp and did the final checks of the packs. There were two entrances to the Green River Trail #213. Though the route we were about to do was clockwise (highly recommended), the trailhead we needed to take was the one to the right. Counterintuitive, but I am glad a hiker had posted that in their review. If we have not read that, we would have taken the one to our left, what is what logic would indicate, and would have changed our itinerary and camping plans. 

This first day of hiking was a 4.7-mile hike. We saw just a couple at the trailhead finishing their hike and nobody else along the journey. Pretty easy and flat trail, with no people whatsoever led us to believe we would have the Green River campsites to ourselves. With one mile left to go, I heard a noise and I said “a motorcycle?” as I remembered Romano saying something that somewhere along the loop there was some ATV illegal activity… Daughter reacted: “motorcycle? That was a roar.” I sort of panicked and with the opposite reaction that one should have, I started whispering: “A bear?” I immediately took my bear spray, removed the trigger cap, and continued hiking with the finger on the trigger. Now it sounded as if the bear was snoring next to us. Daughter asked: “are you planning hiking with the finger on the trigger?” To her dismay, I said: “Yes!” As soon as we started talking, the sounds stopped and the last mile was uneventful… quiet, no wildlife, no humans...until… we got to the campsites... To our surprise, there were no spots available. A very large group has taken over. We walked to the next campsite, also taken. We knew there were no other places to camp, and we looked at each other as in “what do we do now?” One member of the group confirmed there was nothing nowhere near to camp but "there is a horse camp down the trail." I told her, "I know. We come from there and it is about 5 miles from here!!!" We made a decision and though it worked, we are certain it was not a good decision: to camp on the river bed. We crossed the river with our forty and fifty-pound backpacks (daughter did carry both backpacks in two trips, as her balance is much better than mine. I didn’t see myself crossing and walking against current with that weight.)  We cleaned the river bed the best we could, and we were lucky that at 1800 hours the temperature was nice, and there were no mosquitos, which allowed us to do all our work without bites and interruptions.

After dinner, we went to bed, confessing that we slept pretty nervous thinking of potential water rising. Though there was no rain in the forecast in the whole state, heck, anything can happen with the weather in the Pacific Northwest… Again, it worked, but if things have turned out against us, we would be telling a different and probably a terrible story... Or we would have not been able to tell the story AT ALL!!! You would have read it in the papers...So we were lucky. Thanks to Thermarest, the rocky bottom was not that rocky… suddenly we heard sort of a choir singing. The large group, total of eleven, were either members of a High School Glee Club, or it was the Von Trapp family. Fortunately, they had great voices and sang good classic rock songs. According to daughter that’s what Glee singers sing, because that’s what judges like… We just laughed until we felt asleep. The plan was to get up at 0600 to pick up camp without breakfast and get the heck out of there as soon as we could.

Day 3 – Mon Jul 19^th – Vanson Lake - At 0600 we started moving, and picked up camp quick. Reminder that quick, does not negate carefully, so it is not so quick. In addition, we needed to carry our load across the river so everything had to be tightly packed. Daughter decided to cross it in her underwear to avoid getting her clothes wet. She threw the first backpack at the other side, and then went back for the other. Once we were safe and dried on the other side we walked a few feet to be away of the large group, and organize whatever we could not have gotten organized.

The journey was going to be an easy trail towards Vanson Lake. Our relaxed plan was based on thirty-minute walk, and five to ten minutes rest, depending on the walk, the hips, the shoulders, you name it. At about 1.8 miles we reached a ledge with gorgeous views of a most gorgeous valley. The greenery was overwhelming and we soaked our eyes with the view. We continued the easy hike enjoying the old growth and the quietness and solitude of the area. We arrived at the junction that would take us either to Vanson Peak, Vanson Meadows, or Vanson Lake; after taking the latter and a total of about six miles for the day, we arrived at ample camps by the lake.

Vanson Lake is beautiful, and peaceful. Grassy shores, lot of water life with millions of pollywogs. There was a very well built “survival” shelter, we assumed to be used by the people that clean the area. After setting camp we walked around, collected water from the lake (doing gymnastics on a log over the muddy grass), had dinner, coffee, and went to bed with hundreds of toads singing lullabies for us, at different rhythm throughout the night. It was simply remarkable.  We could hear the elks far away with their mating calls... So recognizable, after thinking last year it was Sasquatch. Worth to note there were no mosquitos. None!

Day 4 – Mon Jul 20^th – The Noble Mountain - Day to sleep in after a chilly night in the lows 40’s. The plan called for a day hike to check the surroundings and return to Vanson Lake. After our ritual oatmeal for breakfast we hit the trail toward Vanson Peak. After a steep but short climb, we reached the junction with Goat Mountain Trail #217. Taking left at the junction, the trail took us to a lookout that allowed us to admire the noble mountain, Mount Tahoma (i.e. Rainier) in all its splendor. Diego’s mountain in front of us without nothing interrupting the view. Beautiful, imposing, majestic. Diego's soul there with us...Mount Adams to the east. Though the valley was covered with clouds, the mountains emerged from the white foam. After a while enjoying the noble mountain, the clouds below in the valley started to dissipate and we started seeing a body of water... a little bit more... and the shape of Riffe Lake made an appearance. Beautiful blue surrounded by bright green meadows made the perfect postcard scene. After one hour of mindful viewing we descended through 217 to make a loop to the Vanson Lake/Vanson Peak/Vanson Meadows junction. We diverted from the junction to collect water, and stayed there for 1/2 hour admiring what it looked like a a Disney scene: logs, intertwined tree roots, the creek, and the sunbeams on the water seem to come alive to start singing and dancing with butterflies, little toads, birds, and plants.

Back at the three-way junction, we took the trail to Vanson Meadows which dropped our jaws. An explosion of all kind of gorgeous wildflowers. All colors, all types. We wanted to freeze the imagery in our eyes. In our return to Vanson Lake we went to explore the northwest shore, and found what it seems the only tiny beach in the lake. We had our snack (Omeals pizza, good BTW) and appreciated the beauty of the lake and the Bob Ross kind of view. As one of our hobbies is to paint every week, we were following with our eyes and minds, Bob’s paintbrush: zigzagging greens for the happy little trees, the white spots on the water, the dead trees in the front of the lake, the stones, and the yellow green grass around the shore. We had so much fun doing the painting in our minds.

And BTW, we found just there, ten feet from the water, cans of beer, a spool of fishing line, along with a tangle of nylon that would endanger aquatic life in the lake. How could be people like those? Why does the environment matter very little to them? Though we didn't pack it in, we certainly packed it out. 

Day 5 – Tue Jul 21^st – Magical Bloom - We woke up around 0700 am and started moving to pick up camp. Had breakfast and packed all our stuff to continue with our journey. The hike would be a short one to Deadman’s Lake (4.5 miles). My backpack didn’t cooperate and I had to assemble it three times. Sometimes one wants to give up and in a hurry, hike with an unbalanced backpack, but that will make things more difficult along the road. Having learned from a savvy and wise world traveler (i.e. daughter), doing things slowly and with calm is more efficient. Third times a charm, and off we went. We stopped by the grassy shore of the lake and literally said farewell and thanked our awesome surroundings for two wonderful nights at Vanson Lake which, at this time of the morning, was gorgeously covered with the morning mist making it so magical.

After collecting water for our hydration bladders at a close-by creek (two minutes from the lake) we started the climb on Goat Mountain Trail to the junction with Vanson Peak and Goat Creek (same trail we did the day before on our way to Vanson Peak.) After a constant climb, we descended to the most gorgeous garden that we have ever seen. The OMG was repeated time after time. Hundreds of white bear grass fully bloom. Every one different of each other, according to the angle of the sun they receive. They look like hundreds of bishops on a chess board. We were astonished by this flower arrangement; it was unbelievable. We felt like if it was a royalty path just for us, surrounded by this amazing beauty. We remembered how much Diego literally stopped to smell the flowers, and how much together, the three of us, revered nature during all our adventures. After this magnificent experience, which lasted quite a bit, we started to climb and descend again finding one solo hiker who mentioned he was going to Riffe Lake. I hope he mispoke because Riffe was certainly somewhere else... He probably meant Vanson.

The descent was pleasant and more bear grass was there for us to admire. Then the junction to Deadman’s Lake was received with a big smile. The first camping site at the entrance of the lake area was empty and it was so perfect, that we decided to occupy it. It was ample with many logs readily available as benches around the fire ring (though there was a fire ban, so no bonfire in this trip). There was a natural loveseat formed by the roots of two entangled trees. The shore next to the campsite was sandy, the lake was shallow. While most reviews of this lake call for nice swimming, the afternoon was windy, overcast, and a little bit chilly to submerge feet or any part of the body in the water. The silver lining of the cool temperature? The promised and guaranteed mosquitos went away.

While daughter pitched our tent, I prepared coffee to warm up a little. After everything was in place, we sat on the beach to admire the beauty of the lake scene. We then walked around camp and on the east side found more good camps also with good shores. Then we walked west and saw a tent, and our expression was “people.” We were too surprised to find someone on our journey.

Mosquitos showed up, but, we got to believe that our lemon eucalyptus insect repellent (DEET-free formula) really does wonders. It’s the second year we use it and we swear by it. Though they were around, they didn’t bite us. We didn’t have net hats or anything, just the repellent covering our whole bodies. Even the solo hiker we encountered before, who had a net hat told us: "You must be used to mosquitoes."

After some talk and resting, the clouds dissipated and left our beautiful star alone to warm the rest of the afternoon. The reflections of the trees on the lake were beyond gorgeous, the rays of sun magnificent. We then prepared and enjoyed a first-class dinner (three-cheese mac & cheese) while we were warmed by the sun at the lake shore. Coffee and Cosmik ice cream for dessert to close the night.

Though we dread the night of the 21^st, the anniversary of Diego’s last night on Earth, we felt in peace. We went to bed and fell asleep about midnight. I woke up in the middle of the night, saw my watch: it was 2:20 am, and without any thought, I fell asleep again. So much in peace I was that I couldn’t relate the significance of that particular time, until next morning. Diego died at 02:25 am.

Day 6 – Wed Jul 22^nd – Three Hundred Sixty on the Third Anniversary - The last day of our Finding You There 2021 journey.

As it has been for this journey, I prepared breakfast while daughter picked up camp.  I didn’t do Diego’s WOD (Crossfit Work Of Day) this year, but nothing could take him from our minds. He was with us, as he will ever be. We were definitely in a state of peace, not somber or sad, we just felt peace. Acceptance, maybe? Submission to the inexorable truth?

The last portion of our hike was a 6.5 mile-hike. There were promises of magnificent views, elks, and a relentless descent. We were puzzled with the latter, especially because people who have done this trail counter-clockwise have said how difficult the climb is. Should we need to go down on our butts because of the slope grade? Should we throw our backpacks for the other person to receive it because it would be impossible to go down with them? Should we do some type of rappel? We would learn later that the answer was "no" to all of the above.

The hike was beyond beautiful. Rainier, should I say again, Tahoma, showed up all along the first mile and a half. There she was: majestic, noble, and showing us Diego’s love and veneration for her. Then, we got to the Goat Mountain saddle, an ample flat area with the promised three-hundred-sixty degree view. To say that we were stunned is an understatement. Tahoma (Rainier) to the north, Adams to the east, the southern steep slopes of the Goat Mountain we were in, and the National Volcanic Monument and Mount Margaret backcountry to the south. A sneak peak of St. Helens, like trying to shyly say "hi" while hiding behind the northern slopes of the monument.

The wildflowers were beautiful and we could see clearly the demarcation of the 1980 St. Helens blast zone, the impacted areas, as well as the untouched. We were drinking the beauty and getting drowned in it. The basin frequented by elk was down below, on the north side, green and bright, with their calm lagoons. We didn’t see elk though, but we could imagine them roaming around that gorgeous basin. We took a lot of pictures with Diego’s Centro Excursionista Loyola (CEL) neckerchief, his most precious earthly treasure. As daughter said, the journey could have not ended in a better way. The scenery we witnessed on the anniversary of the day that turned our lives upside down, was simply sublime. 

A very pleasant father-son party arrived to this paradise while we were there. They were doing cowboy camping which consists of sleeping without a tent or coverage. They mentioned that the night before they had their boots a little bit wet due to the mist, but they loved the whole “roughing it” experience. Dad was from Houston, and son from Olympia trying to convince his dad to move to the gorgeous Pacific Northwest. We also saw a biker "flying" by. I wonder how he could have the balance to go through the very narrow ridge. The son even commented "if I do that I would be in no time down below, by the river." Key to mention that the river is 3000 ft below!!!

After father and son left, it was our time to go. We stayed there for over an hour, and it was honestly that kind of places you want to stay forever. However, we had five miles ahead of us including the puzzled question of how steep the downhill was for the last two miles.

As soon as we put our backpacks we saw with concern the narrow ridge and the steep slopes of the southern side of the mountain. We walked very, very careful, me being ahead of daughter, and with certain level of fear. Certain level meaning that at some point I started panicking.I walked literally with baby steps trying not to see the bottom of the mountain, and/or think on the impossibility of surviving if one falls. Even if there were plants or bushes, the slope was so pronounced that it would've been difficult grabbing anything to stop falling. Then, the terrain became all pumice with nothing on the slope but these soft and powdered little rocks. Obvious terrain where the volcano explosion left nothing. My panic increased to the point I wanted to cry; it was like walking on powder, with nothing to the right but a slide of sand. Then I said to myself, “brave it up and keep going, fear is not going to help, and honestly, today, precisely, is not the best date to leave earth.” I continued with my baby steps, until I started seeing trees that were at our level. I don't know how long we walked on this narrow ridge but it seemed eternal. Now we were in safe territory and entered in an ample meadow with more gorgeous flowers, to start descent for good. St. Helens left her shyness to show up her north side, blown up, and empty of snow. Mount Hood was as beautiful as always, with that almost perfect inverted V shape, that we drew of mountains when we were kids. 

Our plan was to stop for lunch at a small tarn that Romano recommended for camping, (Omeals that do not require to boil water), but we didn't found the trail. Daughter checked on what it looked like a trail but had a huge tree in the way, so we decided it was not worth of going there, especially, because we had a good break at the saddle of Goat Mountain. Important to mention that we initially had thought to camp at this small tarn instead of Deadman’s Lake because it would have resulted on less miles the last day on our way home, but my instincts told me not to. One, Romano mentioned “look for an unmarked trail” which translated to me “you may miss it”… as we indeed did. Two, I can’t imagine doing the Goat Mountain Ridge at the end of the afternoon the day before, and more tired. So, always follow your instincts (as long as you trust them. :) 

We started then what Romano calls “a relentless descent” but mental mapping played a great role. The descent didn’t look as bad as we expected. When one expects the worse, the worse may not look as bad.Though we understand how relentless of a climb that would be if the loop is done counter-clockwise!!! So, no rappel, no butts, no backpacks thrown... We stopped at a switch back to have a snack, thinking that on a regular visited trail it is simply not possible just to sit at a switchback for a while with your backpacks on the trail. Well, there was nobody hiking this trail...so, we just could relax there. Seeing Ryan Lake at the distance told us we were closer to the end of the trip. We hiked from the switchback to the forest road 2612 trailhead and the junction with trail to Strawberry Mountain; from there, a little bit over half a mile, to the trailhead at Green River Horse Camp to find our pretty bright yellow vehicle.

We changed clothes and went to the "Water Hole" on the Green River by the campground, which was refreshing and cooled us off after a six-hour hike. The journey was over, and we, once again, captured beautiful memories traveling with Diego’s soul in this beautiful place that nature kindly has given us.

From the seventeenth to the twenty-second. We love you precious Diego. Forever. 

Camped overnight at deadman's lake, proceeding to Vanson next day. Trail is clear, but mosquitoes are a menace, especially around the goat mountain and deadman's lake. It get's a bit better closer to the Vanson peak. The views from the peak are stunning.

On Saturday we were sad to see the trail being destroyed by dirt bikes. Disturbing the serenity of the place with nearly unmuffled rumble of the engine starting 6AM even though those are supposed to be illegal on the trail.

I wouldn't mind a few logs on the trail here and there to keep these away.

Other then that - it's an awesome hike with lots of wildflowers to watch and 3 grand mountains to observe. 

Trail 217 has been recently logged out from Goat Mtn/Ryan Lake trailhead, past Deadman's Lake, to the junction with Vanson Peak trail, and down to the Green River Trail 213.  Thank you trail crews and volunteers!  This route was a real mess just a few weeks earlier.  The trail dropping into Goat Creek has not been cleared yet, and has many blowdowns and broken tops.  The Vanson Peak side trail has not been cleared either.  Most of the snow is gone from this loop.

I always find total solitude on this trail.  Not a sole around yesterday on FS26, at the TH or on the trail.

FS26 has a couple of rough spots that can bottom out a car if care isn't heeded.  There are also a couple of spots, depending on the time of day, where the sun can cause blind spots on sharp curves that could be deadly.

I started at the FS2612 TH.  From this TH I clocked 5.5 miles to Deadman's Lake on both Garmin and Topo Maps+.

The first two miles of the trail through a new growth forest, are in great shape. This was welcomed since this is where almost all of the elevation is gained.  The trail starts to deteriorate with water runoff ruts around 2.2 miles.  The ridge trail is rutted throughout.  There are a few spots along the ridge where mud is prevalent and slick.

Fall colors are past.  No snow on the trail.  At this point, this trail is all about solitude with occasional views.

There isn't one spot on the trail where there is a 360 view.  Instead, there are spots along the trail where there are great views of Mt. Rainier, Mt. Adams, Mt. St. Helens and Mt. Hood.

I love this trail and deadman’s lake, but have been waiting for a September trip because the biting flies are unbearable during the summer. A few trees down in the first half mile but easy to negotiate. Saw footprints in the mud, bigger than my shoe here! It’s a little over 2 miles of steady climb until you reach the first false flat. You will climb a bit more from here. Maybe another mile until you reach the flatter ridge section. At 5 miles, you will cut down to deadman’s Lake. It’s about 1.4 to the lake shore. Most reports say it’s 5.5 miles or so but it is verifiably 6.4 each way. No water on the trail until you get to the lake. It’s a pretty serious hike with a heavy pack. I was with three other athletes and we were all beat. 2300 gain in, about 1000 out. Unfortunately we got rain all night and it was a bit cold. At some elevation here so you don’t want to be wet and cold. We had to make our trip happen after canceling the week prior and being cooped up with wildfire smoke. It was worth it. Caught three Brook trout on the far, deeper end of the lake. Most of the camp spots are along the north shore. No other people at the lake  but saw a few mt bikers and huckleberry pickers on the way out. Didn’t see any wildlife but Sasquatch sang us a melody about 3am. Could’ve been an elk, which would be logical, but probably the big guy