M and I made it to the locked gate only a few minutes behind our planned schedule. The Forest Service road to the gate is in terrible condition and was being prowled by a half dozen hunters in trucks of varying roadworthiness. Neither of us had anything orange and that made me a bit nervous. As we were gearing up, one hunter, probably in his 20s, stopped and asked if we were going hiking. “Yes” I said. He looked at me funny for doing so. I looked at him funny for hunting out the window of his truck. He offered to show us a route around the gate up a road under the power lines, so we followed him. If anyone else wants to try this, you better have 4WD. We encountered another locked gate only a mile beyond the one we had just gone around, but hey, that’s two miles off the hike. We geared up again and walked away from the gate at 0950, only 20 minutes behind our planned departure. The weather yesterday was surprisingly good, and the same will be said about tomorrow as well, but today it was foggy and overcast. The hike up the FS road was dull, I would much rather have driven over this part. About three miles up, we arrived at the trailhead and signed in. The trail from here immediately begins switch-backing up, up, and up. It levels out though and is a really nice trail. I happen to love the more primitive trails, and this was a great one. There are just a few logs in the trail to divert the rain water, but other than that it was just a nice un-engineered hard-pack trail. You have to love the Olympics! There’s not much more to report about this section of the path, it was just deep mossy forest of the kind you have to see to appreciate. Just prior to arriving at the Brother’s Wilderness boundary, we began to see small patches of wet snow, I found this humorous. The snow began to cover more and more of the trail above 4200’ or so. By 4800’ the trail was completely covered to about 4 inches deep. The path began the switchback thing again and by 5000’ the snow was easily 6 to 8 inches deep. There were signs that the snow had drifted at one time, but now it was just wet and heavy. The drifts were knee deep in many places and I was wishing I had gaiters to keep the snow out of my boots. Soon, we were post holing in hip deep snow drifts, having trouble even locating the trail, and near the top we were stopping to catch our breath every 20 yards or so. We were making bad time and purposely ignoring this important fact. We were so close and had come so far that the nagging thoughts of turning back were easy to quell. In hindsight…. At the summit, I was no longer generating the same heat that I was when I was struggling up the steep hill in the deep snow, and the cold began to set in. After about 10 minutes I began to shiver uncontrollably. I walked back to my pack, put on my hat, put my jacket back on, and my gortex over that. My gloves were now soaked and useless so M offered me her spare mittens. I should point out that neither of us anticipated snow in the Olympics this early in the season, and I had not dressed or packed for such a contingency. I looked over at M shivering and could tell we’d been up here too long. The great thing about hiking with M is that if you ask her how she’s doing, she tells you straight up. She told me she was not doing well. There was a sense of almost despair in her voice so I set a pace that was a bit fast down the hill. Faster was not easier but I wanted to get us both out of the snow and the exertion would increase body heat. I had lost contact with my fingertips and toes so I was pretty sure she was not doing any better. M was walking with her hands in her coat pockets letting her poles drag along behind. Even with my poles I was having trouble staying upright, slipping over concealed rocks and unseen potholes in the trail. An injury now would not be good, and could, in fact, be downright dangerous. We didn’t stop and rest until we made it to the wilderness boundary, snow free and slightly warmer. I wrung out my wool socks and wondered how my spare pair had gotten out of my pack. It was getting late in the afternoon and we plodded along down the trail, more of a death march than hike by now. I had set my GPSr to track-back and the distance counting down was little comfort as it seemed to change little between the times I checked it. Darkness came early in the forest, earlier with the fog and overcast, so with only half the distance between the summit and the trailhead covered (not to mention the walk from the trailhead back to the gate); I had my headlamp on to light the way through the pitch black forest. After what seemed an eternity, we made the trailhead and signed out, and then plodded down the FS road back to the truck. In the end, we had hiked just over 20 miles; the elevation gain was in the neighborhood of 4800’, in just over 11 hours. I doubt our total rest stops would add up to even one hour. The hike was fun but the closed gates to the trailhead made it much tougher than it needs to be, and that three miles is very dull.