East Fork Foss - Necklace Valley — Friday, Jul. 29, 2011

Central Cascades > Stevens Pass - West

Our first trip this year into the backcountry, and it almost didn’t happen…When we arrived at the trailhead, there were reports of a “food acclimatized” bear in the area, one that according to the trail crew from Earth Corp had attacked a tent on Friday looking for food. Found out that last summer, someone had left bacon grease in their tent and the bear, of course, was drawn to it like the dog in the commercial, “Bacon, bacon, bacon, BACON!!!” and tore into it with relish…Now, it sees a tent, I guess, and supposes they are all filled with delectable morsels. Really? Bacon Grease? Wow, epic fail there… We talked to the poor guy whose tent the bear “inspected” for food, and he said there wasn’t much left…Fish and Game had looked for the bear with a dog, but had no luck finding it, so they posted signs saying that camping in the Necklace Valley was not recommended at this time… The trail was in good shape to the 5.5 mile mark, an easy walk along the shores of the East Fork Foss River, until you have to cross the river to begin a steep ascent uphill to the lakes. There’s a large log across the river to use as a bridge, (look for surveyor’s ribbon), and directly across the log, the trail begins uphill through a boulder field. The trail now isn’t as well maintained, and it seems all manner of rock, tree root, bramble and branch is doing its best to either halt your upward climb, or toss you from the trail by grabbing your pack and hurling you headlong back the way you came…You know who you are, Mr. Vine Maple… You reach Jade Lake at 7.74 miles and 4630ft elevation mark, a total gain of 2900ft, most of it in the last 2.2 miles, a testament to just how steep it is here. The lake here is beautiful; the green blue waters reflect the image of La Bohn Peak, towering over the tree line in front of you. It’s also here, that we really start running into snow, and we have to cross a snow bridge that spans the east side of the lake, where the trail is. Continuing on, we trudge through ever increasing snow to the Necklace Valley shelter, bleached white from the elements, and in a sad state of disrepair. Perhaps in a raging storm I might seek shelter there, but that would have to be an extreme emergency, I would not plan on sleeping here at night…Near the shelter is shallow Emerald Lake, it’s waters tinged in orange, I imagine from iron deposits. The trail continues to wind its way through the valley, pretty meadows still covered in snow, with lots of water running everywhere. We create our own path down to the southern shores of Opal Lake, and follow the shore to a small section of high ground that has melted out, dividing Opal and Cloudy Lake. Opal, too, is partly covered in snow, and has a fire orange hue to it around the shallow shore line. It looks pretty for pictures, just not too inviting for dunking, or drinking, for that matter, for in addition to the orange waters, there is also scum floating on top from the melting snow… From here there are spectacular views of La Bohn Peak and the gap to the left of it that we planned on hiking up and over to the upper La Bohn lakes and beyond, the plan being to peak bag Mt. Hinman. The next day, we kick stepped our way up the snowfield that fills this gap and were a little nervous doing so. Measured the slope angle with an inclinometer, and found it to be 43 degrees, while I still dared to take my hands off my poles…Above, for the last 75 feet or so, it was even steeper. Up and over a 2 foot fissure that ran from one side of the snow to the other, we could breathe easier as we reached the flats here by La Bohn Lakes. The first lake was that blue that only deep ice can be, (or so we thought) and it was very pretty against the stark white of the surrounding snowfields. The largest of the lakes was outlined in this icy blue, otherwise, still completely covered in its winter blanket. We continue climbing, up onto the Hinman Glacier, its boundaries also hidden as there seems to be nothing but one big snow field as far as we can see. The views on this clear sunny day are endless, and spectacular. To the north, we can see Glacier Peak and further to the NW, Mt. Baker. From the peak of Mt. Hinman, we can see across Bears Breast Mt. to Rainier and Adams. We lunch here, for the incredible vistas are hard to tear our eyes from. By 2:30, we decide to head back to camp, and all goes well, we’re able to plunge step with no problems into the sun softened snow. That is, until we reach the gap again…Here, the afternoon rays hardly touch the snow, and it’s still pretty hard, almost perfect for crampons and ice ax. But, since we didn’t have any, we started plunge stepping downhill to the fissure. I stopped there, already noticing my heart rate increasing, and not just from the exertion. I turned to Greg and said, “Man, this is getting a little hairy”, and right after his reply, “yeah, and we’re not down yet”, I hear a shouted, “Dave! Look out!” and then I see Greg go flying downhill so fast he skipped right over the crack like a stone ricocheting over small waves. He flipped over into self arrest mode, but by then the trekking poles were already littering the slope, so he was left clawing with bare hands and kicking with little effect, other than to spray snow everywhere. He couldn’t stop his descent and, worried about the fast approaching jagged granite that formed a small island in the snow slope, he rolled back over to see where it was before slamming into it backwards, and then really seemed to pick up speed…At the end, nearly 100ft from where his slide began, he hit the rocks, lurched forward, and gave the largest boulder there a massive bear hug, teetered for a moment as if he were going to continue his head long plunge, then came to a stop. After a couple seconds, he looked back up hill towards me, and waved. I started breathing again…Truly the most scared I’ve been in the backcountry….On wobbly knees from the adrenaline now coursing through my veins, I reach the rock outcropping where Greg is standing, and we gather ourselves before continuing downhill. Still have about 400ft or so to go…Back at camp, our relief is palpable, and we enjoy time relaxing around an awesome feast, a recipe that Greg has gleaned from Wildbackpacker.com, called “Cheesy Bacospuds”, and “Alpine Pasta”, a recipe that we have fine tuned a little for our tastes, as it closely resembles our fare for the last 2 years now. Ever since we “discovered” Knorr pasta sides, and Idahoan bags of instant potatoes, we’ve enjoyed ever increasingly tasty meals on our backpacking adventures. The following morning, its overcast, and we get rained on lightly, as we retreat from the Necklace Valley, thankful for being in one piece! Please visit tateventure.com for more on this hike and others in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness.