Laurabelle’s Blog

On the last weekend in July, Jeff and I went backpacking in Lassen Volcanic National Park. It was a good trip (much better than our last few), but the adventure started early this time.

I had planned everything carefully in advance; we had our wilderness permit and everything ready to go. But at the last moment, Jeff wasn't sure he could get the time off after all. This was doubly frustrating because the reason he couldn't have the time off was the same reason he needed some time away from work. It was rather poetically ironic, but irony isn't much comfort. He did end up getting a half-day off on Friday and a full day on Monday, which was enough; we didn't have to cancel the trip.

So Thursday evening we packed the car, Friday morning I drove him to the train station, and at about noon he caught a train to meet me at work in the early afternoon. Of course we had forgotten something at home, but that was just a brief stop and then we were on our way.

On I-505 (between I-80 and I-5 west of Sacramento), we saw a minivan stopped on the side of the road, with people standing behind it waving their arms at the oncoming cars. We stopped; it turned out they needed a wrench because their passenger-side front tire had more or less exploded, and they needed to put on the spare tire. They had a wrench, but it was old, and one of its corners was split so that the socket wouldn't quite grasp the nuts. Our wrench was unfortunately too small. After substantial non-progress with the old broken wrench, Jeff hopped the barbed wire and went to knock at some nearby farmhouses to see if anyone there could help. This produced a nice ex-Navy chap named Billy with a lot of tattoos, a truck, and a rugged T-wrench! Jeff and myself now having served our purpose, we got on the road again.

The rest of the drive to Lassen was uneventful. Due to our late start and delay on the road, we ate dinner on the road and arrived at Summit Lake South Campground at about 9pm. (It was not even quite dark yet.) Happily, I had reserved a campsite online, so all we had to do was find our spot and set up the tent. Squatters had their stuff at the site we got there (a big group had overflowed from a nearby campsite after the campground host told them they had too many people for one site), but they left politely when Jeff told them we had the site reserved. Apparently they had entered from the other side and hadn't seen the signpost.

Jeff and I hiked to Upper Lena Lake on August 20-22, sort of on a whim. I say sort of because Jeff had wanted to make this trip for a while. On the other hand, this specific trip was not planned more than about 2 days in advance, and I hadn’t yet found our hiking maps after the move. If I had looked more carefully and not trusted in Jeff’s memory, I might have been more careful about committing myself.

I don’t mean that there were any nasty surprises on the trail; there was just a lot of Up. It was almost more than I could bear. The trail’s about 7.5 miles, fairly gentle for the first half and then progressively steeper. One stretch involves scrambling up rocks, and towards the end there are some evil, steep and treacherous switchbacks up a sloping meadow. By the time we got to that point, I was just about ready to drop. (Ooooh, rocky trail, so comfortable…)

But the scenery at the top was worth it.

Last weekend Jeff and I went to Flapjack Lakes. It's a 16-mile hike, 8 miles in and 8 miles out. It's somewhat like the Heather Park trail in that it's a relentless slope (never a downward step on the way in). Although it takes 8 miles to gain about 3200 feet, almost all that gain is in the last 4 miles, just like Heather Park.

Like our previous hike, the drama started the night before. (I broke the frame of my glasses the evening before we left for Heather Park.) I had a headache most of the evening, and in the middle of the night I got up for some aspirin and then was sick. Still, I was determined not to let it stop me, and in fact I felt better almost as soon as I set foot on the trail.

Remember how good Jeff and I are about misjudging our hikes? (Witness Lena Lake, Mount Rainier, and Annette Lake.) We did it again—but I’ll get to that later.

This weekend’s hike was in Olympic National Park, just south of Port Angeles. There, three connecting trails form a loop that winds up and over mountain ridges for most of its length, affording spectacular views to the north, east, and south. The plan was as follows:

• Saturday: Heart of the Hills to Heather Park (4 miles, steady ascent, ~3500 feet elevation gain)
• Sunday: Heather Park to Lake Angeles along the Klahhane Ridge (~4.5 miles, up and down over the ridge with a net descent to the lake)
• Monday: Lake Angeles back down to Heart of the Hills (~3.5 miles, gently downhill)

Unfortunately I can’t point you at a map, but I had one, and it sure seemed like a good plan. We could have gone around the loop in the other direction, but I figured that it would be better to get the worst over on the first day. That way, the second and third days would be relatively easy.

The catch is that maps don’t tell you everything. Neither do guide books.

It seems that Jeff and I have gotten pretty good at miscalculating the weather for our hikes. We didn’t think it was going to rain when we went to Lower Lena Lake, and we didn’t think it was going to be that snowy or rainy at Mount Rainier either. The same problems plagued our hike to Annette Lake on Saturday.

The rain wasn’t such a problem, particularly since we were well-prepared this time and were not staying overnight. The problem was that although Jeff thought it would be a nice low-altitude hike, there turned out to be a lot of snow on the trail. That made the hike a lot harder and a fair bit less pleasant for me, although we got a couple of



gorgeous views once the rain let up and the mist cleared away a little bit. (The thumbnail to the side links to Flickr, where I’ve uploaded a 1024×768 image (401Kb) that I think would be fantastic as a desktop background. Feel free to download it for personal use only.)

Annette Lake is a charming little mountain lake, fed by a small waterfall. At this time of year it was perfectly still, frozen over with a film of ice and snow. All the same, Jeff and I don’t think we’ll ever go back there. The trail is a very popular one, too popular for our taste, especially since it’s right next to I-90. Although it’s nice that the trailhead is so accessible, we could hear the highway almost all the way to the lake. There weren’t many people on the trail that day, but we did run across a couple of moron mountain-bikers plowing uphill through the snow, even though that part of the trail was off-limits to bicycles. (There are reasons for that, some of which the bikers were learning the hard way.)

On the bright side, I discovered that my regimen of physical exercise has been paying off. My heart went thunka-thunka-thunka instead of pitter-pat, and I didn’t have to stop so often on the uphill climb, at least not until we got into the snow. It was really the packed-down, slippery snow that strained my feet, ankles, and knees by constantly throwing me off-balance. Other than that, I didn’t do too badly.

Next month: Heather Park and Lake Angeles trails in Olympic National Park! The two trails connect and together form a nice 12-mile loop.

Yesterday Jeff and I went back to Lower Lena Lake. The weather had been sunny for the last six weeks, so we assumed we didn’t need to worry much about rain. Think again, roared Mother Nature. The water poured down in buckets.

Not that we minded (much). Washington is already in an official drought emergency this year, so we were overjoyed to see rain. The woods and and the lake were beautiful in the rain and mist, and the only people we saw on the trail were nutjobs like ourselves.

I wouldn’t have been half as happy if it weren’t for my gear. (Even though we didn’t expect rain, we had prepared for it anyway. Thank heaven for over-preparedness.) My new rain hat, which I had bought mainly for its sun-blocking potential, kept my head (and more importantly, my glasses) perfectly dry. My extra-dorky poncho covered my body and pack, earning the envy of Jeff, who became ever-more soaked during our hike. New nylon pants, while not exactly waterproof, politely refused to absorb any water. Last but not least, my weather-proofed boots allowed me to slosh with complete impunity through the running water on the trail. (Jeff, whose boots needed to be re-treated, played the rock-hopping game in an attempt to keep his feet somewhat dry.) On the other hand, I envied his wool gloves, which kept his hands warm even though they were completely soaked. Luckily I know where he got them. ;-)

We carried our full packs up the trail, in the hope that the weather would turn. Since it didn’t, we turned around and headed back down to the car again. This made it a harder hike than we had planned, and my feet were toast by the time we got back down. Nevertheless, I’m glad that we went and that we carried our packs with us. It was good training for the next hike, and in any case, the weather would surely have turned once it was too late to change our mind.

Oh, and still no pictures. The camera isn’t waterproof, so I left it in the car. Maybe next time! (There will be a next time.)

I wish I had a digital camera so that I could show you pictures already, of Jeff and me at Lena Lake, but you’ll just have to take my word that I was there. I’ll find a way to scan a couple later, if they come out well, and post them.

The hike was, of course, lovely. Jeff hadn’t been seriously hiking for over a year, and I can’t remember doing any serious hiking since the day hike my father and I took in Bandelier National Park when I was about 13 I think (13 miles up and down through 7 or 8 canyons… at least with mountains, the return trip is easier). Furthermore, I’d never done any backpacking at all. So both Jeff and I had a good bit of prep work to get ready for the trip.