Yet another sunny weekend day. This winter has been full of them. I have been to Park Butte Lookout a number of times but never in winter. Most winters the road is snow covered at least 5 or 6 miles before the summer trailhead. Add on 7 more miles round trip and it's just too far for short winter days. We had heard that the road was bare to within a few miles of the trailhead. Some snowmobiles were expected. I met Suzanne, David, and Barb in north Seattle at 7:00 am. We arrived at the intersection of Highway 20 and the Baker Lake Road only a few seconds after Elle, Bob, and Kolleen. We were following several trucks carrying snowmobiles up the road. We passed a few trucks parked along dirt road and kept going. After passing many more we reached a turn around. Trucks with trailers could not turn around beyond this point on the narrow road. The folks ahead of us turned around and started backing up the road. Half a mile later they were still backing up. It takes a lot of skill to back up with a trailer on a narrow road with cars and trucks parked continuously along it. Eventually he found a spot to park. We were barely able to turn around and both our cars found small spots to slip into. There must have been over 100 cars and trucks parked along the road. It took nearly an hour to navigate the last mile of road, park, and get ready to head out. It was already 10:00 am when we began moving. We started off on dirt but quickly found the end of the road and the start of thin groomed snow. It turns out a group called the Northwest Glacier Cruisers was having an annual get together. They represented a lot of the snowmobiles we saw. We had about 1 1/2 miles of road to walk and it went by very quickly. The groomed road continued around the trailhead but we went looking for the start of the summer trail. I hoped we would find snowshoe tracks all the way to the lookout. It was not to be. The bathrooms were open and just required climbing down off the snow. We took a few minutes to strip off some clothing. Some went to short sleeves. I ditched my first layer, zipped off my pant legs, and put on gaiters. It was warming quickly. We found the bridge over Sulphur Creek. The snow was just above the top of the hand rails. I hated walking along the narrow snow but we all crossed with no problems. A minute later we ran back into the groomed road. We followed the road for a while. We passed the NW Cruisers site next to the road in a meadow. It looked like they were having a good time. All we had to do was figure out where to leave the road. At first we almost headed up the wrong drainage but David pulled out his map and compass and we found our error. Bob and Kolleen had a GPS and it verified our position. The snowmobiles were heading up along Rocky Creek and then cutting over to Morovitz Meadow. The summer trail takes a much shorter and more direct route up through forest to the meadow. We chose to follow roughly on the summer route. It finally occurred to me that the big meadow the road was following was in fact the channels of Rocky Creek. It looked much different than without snow. We headed across the meadow towards the forested slope and quickly reached the main channel of the creek. Crossing required dropping down the bottom and finding a way up the other side. It was too deep and steep sided in most places but we found a spot where we could climb down. Barb found a spot to get up the other side and I found another. With a few fits and starts we all made it up. The creek itself was dry. The rest of the channels were buried under snow and we walked right across. The snow in the sunny meadow was soft and I was post holing nearly every step. When we reached the forested slope the shaded snow was much firmer. We headed up still without snowshoes. I think we were pretty close to the summer trail. The only difference is that instead of gentle switchbacks we went directly up the hillside. It was never overly steep though never gentle either. In a few places we saw blazes and what appeared to be the trail. When we hit an open sunny spot the snow softened considerably. It was already 11:45 and we stopped for lunch. We also put on snowshoes. From there it was not long until we broke out into Morovitz Meadow. Now we could see most of Mt. Baker and it seemed to be close enough to touch. I have been to the lookout a number of times but only in summer or fall. The south side of Baker has always been glaciers and rock. This time it was just white snow from top to bottom. There was nobody in site. Just us and 900 snowmobile tracks, more or less. Looking over to Mt. Baker we could see a track leading right up to the summit. It was a snowmobile super highway. Little black dots could be seen all along it. We climbed up the sloping meadow and soon had a look up to the Park Butte Lookout. To get there we had to drop down and climb steeply back up again. As we crested the climb our group began to get split up. Suzanne and Elle were heading up open slopes to the summit ridge. Bob and Kolleen were to their left. David, Barb, and I took a more leftward line to the left of a bump on the ridge. This brought us to the site of the summer tarns. Many great photos show Baker over those tarns. Bob and Barb angled over to meet us near the tarns. The tarns were buried under snow. A few snowmobiles zoomed by here. The first ones we saw up close since the lower road. We climbed up to a bench on the bump and had an easy time heading over to the summit ridge. Fantastic views from up high. Suzanne and Elle were reaching the lookout as we made it up to the ridge. The last bit was an easy climb and we were soon on top. There was not a cloud in the sky. Park Butte has the most stunning view of Mt. Baker and it was even better than on my past visits. To the west the Twin Sisters were now in view. Lots of other peaks filled the horizon. Even the summit of Mt. Shuksan was now in view. We all wished we could spend the night at the lookout. We spent a good half hour in and around the lookout. Snowmobiles started arriving including the guy we had followed in the morning as he backed up the narrow road. It's a small world. He turned out to be a nice guy. One other group of snowshoers showed up. They had followed our tracks all the way up. All to soon it was time to leave. It took us 3 1/2 hours to ascend and it was 2:00 pm when we headed down. The trip down was much easier. Only a few ups and lots of downs. We even got in several good glissades. Snowshoes came off for the steep drop to Rocky Creek and the lower groomed road. The crossing of the creek was no worse than it had been in the morning. The groomed road walk seemed to go on forever. A number of snowmobiles zoomed by. The crowd at the parking area had thinned considerably. We saw two climbers heading out when we did in the morning. We saw them again atop the roof of a snowcat just as we finished. The story is that they managed to hitch snowmobile rides up to 9400' before summiting and hitching rides back down again. That just seems like cheating. Even though we managed to find the busiest day of the year on this route with the snowmobile group get together it turned out to be a great time. For most of the day we were all alone. We even had to find our own route up to Morovitz Meadow. I can't imagine a winter day with clearer skies or better views. Add in good company and you have all the ingredients for a fantastic day in the mountains. 45 photos have been posted at: http://www.hikingnorthwest.com. Go to "Trips-2010" on the left margin.

What happens in February when Old Man Winter shares a bit of the seasonal stage with that vernal upstart spring?  Well, mountain bliss would be my answer.    Snow depth around these parts has been maintaining at 88% of average, but snow line has been higher and more distinct than usual; this was a great combination for getting deep into winter.  All that was needed was a rare February high pressure system… and wow did we get that!  So, with vacation approved and a fresh snowpark pass in hand, I headed up FS Road 13 where motorized progress was halted by snow at 2900’.  A pre-dawn start ensured a firm travel surface, at least for Bodhran.  Indeed, I was able to float on the crust with my 70lb pack until about 4500’; henceforth I wore the snowshoes.  The trailhead at 3300’ has about 4.5 feet of snow.    I chose to ascend Rocky Creek rather than follow the trail because 6-10’ walls of snow buggered any crossing in the lower section.  There was a narrower gap up higher.   The dog would not jump, because, well, it was a scary gorge, so I helped Bodhran fly.  I’m sure he did not appreciate it, but coaxing only goes so far.  Anyway, onward to our planned ascent of the south end of the west moraine; here it still has some anchoring trees.  After attaining the crest we contoured into Morovitz meadows, lorded over by the steaming volcano called Kulshan.  The rest of the day’s toil was a beautiful slog.  The air was occasionally scented with 2-stroke exhaust from petrol-based recreationists.  Ambulatory totals: 4.5 miles, 2500’ gain, 3.5 hrs.  The trip out did not require snowshoes at all.  Crossing higher on Rocky Creek avoided any leap; it was mostly covered over.    The catwalk of the structure had 1-4 feet of frozen snow and ice requiring nearly another 4 hours of toil.  But the result was worth it; I could then step out of my bedroom-in-the-sky and pace about the deck in slippers prowling for photos.  It was not a serene place though, being a winter recreation area for machines after all.  Good thing I was not expecting solitude.  But it was generally quiet before 10a and after 5p.  Many courteous snowmobilers visited, but not one self-propelled traveler showed during the four days.    No complaints though.  I was grateful for the weather, the periods of silence, stars, and the spectacular coincidence of so much sun and new snow.  Each day began with a splinter of orange light stabbing from the fractured Cascades, and ended with that same light extinguished by icy rock.  Daytime temps were near freezing with a low of 24.  The air was still and warm Thursday and Sunday.  There was plenty of time to ponder long shadows on pillowy snow, lounge in the sun against a snow drift, or return percussives to playful ravens.  Bodhran worshiped the sun in cold air, and chased snow downslope that he dislodged himself; wretched mountain living.  I should want to return there as soon conditions allow. 

On Saturday, the first traces of snow appeared at about 4300' on this trail. At the junction with Railroad Grade trail (about 4650'), Morovitz Meadow was thinly snow-covered. By the time we got to the Park Butte Lookout, there was perhaps 4"-6" on the ground. Snow had drifted somewhat, so there were a few isolated spots on the way up where snow was perhaps a foot-and-a-half deep - none of these sink-in sections lasted for more than 10-20 yards, so the trail was quite passable. We had the lookout house to ourselves through lunchtime, but we met lots of people heading up as we descended - including quite a few who were hoping to spend the night in the lookout house - perhaps the first of them would have arrived about 2:30 or 3:00 PM. There were a few clouds, which obscured parts of Baker and/or the Black Buttes much of the time, but now and then the clouds would dissipate and the whole mountain would emerge in its full white glory. One of the nice things about doing this hike on a cold October day after a cold spell is that the outflow stream from Easton Glacier (which must be forded) was the lowest I've ever seen - perhaps 2" deep at its deepest! A few berries survived, but likely not much longer.

When I signed up in the January for a WTA volunteer vacation I didn’t really know what to expect. I had been donating for a couple of years and had meant to get out on a work party several times, but I had never taken that jump to get involved. When Quark brought it to my attention that the sign-ups for the week-long volunteer vacations were coming up I knew that would be a great opportunity to dive right in, and when I saw that a work party was going to be planted in the Park Butte area I knew I could resist no longer. Seven and a half months after signups, still without having made it out for a single work party, my brother dropped me at the Lynnwood P&R where I met Dave and Bob who I would carpool up with. The first day we focused primarily on reaching the camp that we would call home for the next week at the Mazama Shelter, located about ¾ mi and a handful of switchbacks down from the pass the trail splits to the lookout. The first few couple of days were strange as I was thrown in to a whirlwind of inside jokes between old friends and newcomers, like me, were on the outside. It wasn’t long, though, before their jokes had become jokes to me as well, the group was infectious in that way. After reaching camp and setting up tents we settled down to a meal of steaks and portabellos, salad and something else definitely delicious and possibly nutritious that escapes me right now. In any event it was a welcome change from a typical backcountry diet of cous cous, dried produce and some sort of cheese. The weather was phenomenal, too warm for some people’s tastes, but being the second week of September it was hard to complain. We all relaxed and enjoyed seeing the last light on Baker as the sun settled behind the Sisters until the next morning, our first morning of work. Now when I say work, I would hardly call it work. To me the work that we did felt less like and more like play, similar to the effect of physically exerting yourself hiking to a pristine alpine environment. For the first three days we were in the forest on a section of trail between the Mazama Camp and Bell Pass. There were sections flagged along the way and we stayed busy focusing on those sections in the time we spent on that segment of trail. Most of the work was clearing out ditches and cleaning culverts. As unappealing as that may sound, when you are out there with a group of people who is as passionate about trailwork, and about the people they are working with it ceases to feel like work very quickly. I could now see how this close bond between the folks in the group was formed; by working hard together, sweating together, and things done together there is a respect that comes naturally, and that coupled with having so much fun together makes for close friendships. What really impressed me and really meant a lot to me was how patient and interested some of the more experienced members of the group were in teaching me about some of the techniques of trail building and the philosophy behind them. At times I felt like they could have accomplished more if they had given me a less important job and the more experienced folks focused on the more crucial jobs. They simply wouldn’t do that. Everyone was very persistent and genuine in trying to help and teach me in every way they could, and I am very thankful for it. Wednesday was our day off so I chose to take some solo time by heading up to the lookout Tuesday night and then getting off to an early start to explore the area on Wednesday. I spent Wednesday hanging around the tarns on Park Butte in the morning, then took a walk up railroad grade, and across the meadow to the west to get a look at the awe-inspiring Deming Glacier. Thursday and Friday we worked on the section of trail between the Park Butte junction and Mazama Camp. Thursday was my birthday and Greg did be the distinct honor of gifting me a massive rock which would serve as part of the foundation of a rockwall we would build in an effort to widen a section of trail. I spent, more-or-less, the entire day unearthing that substantial boulder and eventually we were able to excavate a site to place it. Thursday evening after dinner the group disappeared in to the shelter, I was completely oblivious. When they returned they were all carrying glow sticks and presented me with a Moon Pie adorned with candles and a glow stick in the middle. It was much more than I expected and it was very thoughtful. Certainly this birthday will be as memorable as most any that I’ve had. In fact, I think I might spend every birthday with WTA! On Friday we finished up the rock wall and rested up, as we were all pretty beat. The sun set behind looming clouds and rain rolled in Saturday evening, it was a real soaker before long and most of us were packing out some wet gear. As with everything throughout the week we did it together, and as the rain let up we enjoyed the walk down the trail and back to the cars where we would leave our mountain paradise for a more complicated civilized life. Needless to say I will be signing up for WTA functions again in the near future. It’s amazing how much real work can be accomplished when you are having so much fun doing it. I know that I can come back in five years and look at that rock wall we built and know that I was a part of maintaining that trail. When I signed up for a volunteer vacation, I wasn’t sure how much of a vacation it would be, but it didn’t disappoint. I imagine all work parties are much more party than I would have expected as well!

Lorelei, my Belgian Malinois, and I left the TH late, about 8:45 AM The walk up was uneventful and pretty slow. The Rocky Creek crossing was easy across low water. A beautiful cloudless day. There were few flies and no mosquitoes. Berries are ripe along the trail but the pickings are slim with very few berries on even large bushes. We met no one on the way up to the Park Butte LO. Being that I am old and in less than top condition, we did not reach the LO until a few minutes after eleven. There were two parties there, totaling eight people and a Spaniel. Coming down, I decided to take the Scott Paul oxbow. The western suspension bridge across Rocky Creek is a challenge for dogs and stiletto heels. The gap between planks is about two inches, wide enough for a paw to be caught and also to see the drop and raging stream. I had taken a harness so I supported Lorelei, she got her rear feet placed well, and we crossed successfully. By now at about one PM, the heat melt had Rocky Creek high and nearly roaring. The trail is in very good shape with one large but easily crossable blowdown during the east-west stretch of the trail. As the Forest Service info center will tell you, the eastern bridge is gone. I'm sorry, I don't know the name of that creek. The water was pretty high and fast but there are well spaced nice large rocks just upstream from the old crossing. A three or four foot jump across the largest flow is necessary but the rocks are quite large and dry. With minimum guidance, Lorelei did fine. As we neared the turn to the south entering the forest, the bugs became a minor irritation. Black flies and a few horse flies. We saw twelve hikers on the Scott Paul. Two were going in our direction. Two others had overnight packs and six of the remaining eight were going to turn around no farther than the eastern creek.