Enchanted Valley via East Fork Quinault River — Friday, Oct. 28, 2016

Olympic Peninsula > Pacific Coast

The repair of the Graves Creek Road has made it again possible to hike the East Fork of the Quinault without suffering a long road walk. Given this, Robin and I woke up early and got to the Graves Creek Trailhead about 9 am, with the hope of catching a rare weather window up in Enchanted Valley. Apparently others had the same idea, as we saw a few cars at the trailhead, and ultimately saw a dozen people over the course of two days, but no one beyond O'Neil Camp. The first part of the trail, up to the dilapidated picnic table on the old road and then down to Pony Bridge, was the same as usual in intermittent rain. The next stretch of the trail, to O'Neil Camp, was as flooded as I've ever seen--presumably due to the monsoons earlier in the week. Every minor creek crossing required careful steps on partially submerged rocks, and the foot bridge across Fire Creek was much appreciated. In the bottomland regions, stretches of the trail were completely inundated, and often had become streams that required some effort to circumvent. Along the way there were plenty of elk droppings, mushrooms--including chanterelles, moss and drenched birch and maple leaves. The trail reroute just past O'Neil Camp takes you away from the river, but once past the foot bridge across Noname Creek, the travel becomes progressively prettier--even in periodic drizzle. For now, Pyrites Creek can be crossed without wading by crossing on a tangled log bridge to a small island, and then catching the remainder of the old bridge the rest of the way. After Pyrites, patches of blue sky helped make the last miles more pleasant. The long, high, one rail bridge that crosses the Quinault just before the valley is sturdy, but still scary when it's slippery. In any case, it's better than having to wade through the river as was necessary some years past. After the bridge, neither the old trail or the new reroute to the chalet are particularly convenient: the new one may be easier, but required at least four water crossings on wet logs and partially submerged stones. The chalet is as beautiful as ever, even after its hundred yard relocation. It's completely locked and no longer available as an emergency shelter, but offers a picturesque contrast to the glory of the valley's peaks and waterfalls, and the small band of elk that entertained themselves by the river. After setting up tent under partly bright skies, we wandered up the valley another mile or two, but opted to stop before the O'Neil-Anderson trail junction due to yet another stream crossing and fading light. We had cocktails and dinner with the murmur of the Quinault, the silent trees, and enough stars to scratch together a few constellations. After the requisite night game of cribbage, we fell asleep before the new rain came. By morning, the rains did come, but we found enough of a break to cook breakfast and coffee, take down the tent and take note of the elk. The thirteen or so miles out in occasional rain were generally uneventful. We remembered every stone and log we had used for stream crossings on the way in, and imagined that the path was not as submerged as we had recollected. After packing the car in a brief rain break, clouds enveloped the mountains as though they were putting them to bed for the winter. Maybe they were.