Photo Friday: Glacier Peak Wilderness

A couple of weeks ago, I did a 6-day backpack trip with my husband and eldest son (ES) on the east side of Glacier Peak (in Washington State; not to be confused with Glacier National Park). After a good snow year, there was lots of water, a fair collection of mosquitoes, and an overwhelming abundance of wildflowers. Here's a quick trip report with a lot of pretty pictures.

For those who like more detail on routes: We hiked the Phelps Creek Trail to Spider Meadows, climbed the Spider Glacier through Spider Gap and down to Lyman Lake. Crossed Cloudy and Suiattle Passes to pick up the PCT for a few miles, then the trail through Buck Creek Pass and back down to the Chiwawa River to complete the near-loop.

Day One: 
We arrived at the trailhead, after a long and slow dirt road (the last 2.5 miles were not at all appropriate for a small sedan, but we did it anyway), in time for lunch. There were a startling number of cars in the parking area, but it was Sunday and we had faith, well-placed as it turned out, that most would be leaving that day.

Couldn't help noticing most of the other cars were SUVs.

There were great views at the trailhead (the photo above just hints at it), but the trail dove right away into thick forest, where we began almost at once to see the wildflowers that were to be such a marker of this trip.

Trillium

After a couple of hours (maybe 5 1/2 miles), we began to glimpse what we had come for. It wasn't a long hike, but we were happy to know that camp would be near.

ES contemplates the view at the bottom of Spider Meadows

The campsite we claimed was about perfect: right on the edge of the meadow with a view up at the larger peaks and the next day's route. 

Day Two

We woke to frost on the flowers, but the sun eventually hit the bottom of the valley, and we moved off through the garden.

We will be climbing up around to the left of the grey outcrop and then behind it to the right of the higher brown-and-snow peak to a pass that can't be seen from here.

The trail first led us through the meadow, at a very easy grade, before we crossed Phelps Creek (not scary, but ES and I both got our feet wet). Then it began to climb with a disconcerting directness!

Gaining elevation fast.

We eventually ran out of trail, and continued straight up the glacier. It's little, without crevasses or other challenges. It may in fact be a permanent snowfield, but the map claims glacier.

ES and the spouse head for the pass.

We hit the saddle in time for an early lunch. Given the view, I wouldn't have lunched anywhere else. If you look very, very closely, you can see the summit of Mt. Baker in the low spot to the left of the double peak in the center of the skyline. Below us the Upper Lyman Lakes showed themselves to be the stark pools left behind the retreat of a glacier. We have a long way to go down, but the snowfields prove our salvation--we can slide most of the way, thus sparing our knees, though at some cost of frozen backsides.

I'm not sure when the glacier covered the lake area, but I'd be willing to guess we are talking a century or less.

Lower Lyman is also a settling-pond for glacial silt! Not only does the color give it away, but we could see the silt in the shallows, and the path the inlet has carved through it.

Day Three

We found a camp on the far shore of Lyman Lake, only later discovering that there were much nicer camps elsewhere. I advocated a move, but the guys were too settled. In the morning, after exploring along the west side of the lake up to the inlet--an impressive cascade tumbling from the lakes above--we headed up toward Cloudy Pass.

Some of the best flowers grew at Cloudy Pass, but also the best mosquitoes, and some rather impressive horseflies.

From the pass, we had a phenomenal view back to where we had been (Lyman Lake is visible at the bottom, and Spider Gap is the low spot on the ridge above the lake).

Looks like a long way.

There were also tantalizing hints of the big show, what we had really come for.

ES pauses to contemplate the big white thing.

We made this a very short day, stopping just below Suiattle Pass at a campsite with a fantastic view. We spent the afternoon vacationing--naps, reading in the tent, and just poking around a little until dinnertime.

Sunset on Glacier Peak. At 10,541', it's not the tallest volcano in the state, but it is beautiful. Last eruption was in 1700.

Day Four

Began this day very early, in order to catch sunrise on the mountain. Since it was late July, and we were very far north, that meant a 5 a.m. rising time. In most of our camps, we didn't get direct sun until much later, but it was light until 10 p.m., and light again shortly after 5, so we didn't make much use of our headlamps.

Sunrise from the same spot, not so very many hours later.

This day was our longest hiking day, with a lot of ups and downs as we had to cross a couple of drainages and climb to Buck Creek Pass. Along the way, we topped out on the imaginatively named Middle Ridge, and followed a use trail up the ridge in search of views. We found a sea of lupine.

There's a trail along just above tree line on that distant ridge. Next time, I'll go that way.

We also found views of the the mountain. Photographers in heaven!

Just before dropping to our camp (which had no views, alas, but was a short walk from this spot), we crossed a steep meadow white with Pasque flowers, bistort, and valerian, with a few asters and an occasional red paintbrush. And a volcano.

That deep scar below the glacier was the source of interest when winds kicked up clouds of dust--probably mostly ash.

Day Five

We planned a short backpacking day on this one, so that we could do some dayhiking to explore the high ridges. We left camp early to follow a trail along the ridge toward High Pass, a route we'd heard of from other hikers on this trip. It proved to be yet another scenic highlight.

Flower gardens and volcanoes, on top of Liberty Cap

Steep slopes and waist-high flowers.

There's a trail under there somewhere.

Continuing to skirt the top of the ridge. We started running into snowfields along in here.

 We could have gone a little farther, but the route to High Pass traverses high, steep snowfields above a drop-off (on the left in the photo below). That's not something to do without an ice axe. So instead, we climbed a knob above the trail, where we had 360-degree views.

Slightly distorted panorama of what we could see from our high knob, looking south and west.

 And, of course, the knob was covered with flowers.

We returned to camp in time for a late lunch. After a nap, we moved our camp a few miles closer to the trailhead, to make the next (final) day's hike easier. That last camp had the advantage of being the only one that was essentially mosquito-free, being well below the snow line and much drier.

Day Six
Final day. We had seen signs warning us that the section of trail we would be hiking this final day had been burned over the previous fall, and might be hard to follow. There were also warnings that the bridge over the Chiwawa River was out, and we worried about that off and on the whole way, knowing that it wouldn't be an option to turn around and go back. In the event, the trail had been cleared of deadfall before we reached it, and we were able to be intrigued by the burn area, rather than stymied by it. 

There were patches that burned quite intensely.

As always after a fire, it takes very little time for green things to start poking through the ash.

 The "destroyed" bridge proved, like the burn area, to be no obstacle at all. I wouldn't want to have to ford the river there, but in fact the bridge was collapsed, but solid, and provided a safe and easy crossing.

In the last mile, the trail gave us one last gift, in the form of a patch of huckleberries. Thus fortified, we were able to make it to the car, and on out to the nearest burger and shake.

©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2017
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V is for...Volcanoes

 

I tossed this one around for a while, and the only mountain I came up with was the Vinson Massif.  Which is actually totally cool. I mean, the Vinson Massif is the high point of Antarctica, at 16,050'. It's not a technically difficult climb, aside from being in Antarctica, which adds more than enough challenge. It is almost all glacier (big surprise) with a bit of rock sticking out of the top.

But right now, volcanoes are my focus. They are in the news, of course, with Chile's Calbuco volcano erupting. That volcano is part of the Ring of Fire, the circle of volcanoes (and earthquake zones--the two are, of course, related) all around the Pacific.

I grew up with volcanoes. Mt. Rainier was "our" volcano, the one we could see from our house (though happily far enough away that we'd be okay if it erupted. Probably).

Mt. Rainier from the Wonderland Trail, looking over the Winthrop Glacier to the cloud-wrapped summit.

But of course the whole range is volcanoes. If you start at Mt. Baker near the Canadian border, and count them all down to Mt. Lassen in northern California (the southernmost of the Cascades), there are about 15 major volcanoes. The range actually extends on up into British Columbia, adding 5 more.

These volcanoes are the result of plate tectonics, as three minor plates along the western edge of the continent dive beneath the North American plate. That subduction zone creates both earthquakes and places where the molten rock forces its way back up through the surface--volcanoes. In the millenia since the mountains formed, all have been shaped and carved by glaciers, as well.

Glacier Peak

And these Cascade Mountain are, for the most part, live volcanoes. The most recent eruption, of course, was Mt. St. Helens in 1980. In 2005, on our way to Seattle, we  noticed that it was a very clear day and detoured to the Clearwater Ridge Visitor's Center for a nice view of what was left of the mountain. The wind was howling so hard our kids, then only 6 & 8, couldn't stand up!

Not steam or ash this time, but clouds and blowing snow.

Before St. Helens, the most recent eruption was Lassen, in 1917. But Glacier, Baker, Rainier, Hood, and Shasta have all erupted within the last 2-400 years.

In 1989 I climbed Mt. St. Helens, or what was left of it. Lousy weather conditions made for poor visibility as well as photography, but we did see down into the crater, to where the mountain was already working at rebuilding:

This is a view out the blast zone, where the mountain vaporized its own side.

In 1988, I climbed Mt. Adams with some friends. Though 12,280', it isn't a particularly technical climb, though we did use ice axe and crampons for security on the high slopes.

Mt. Adams "Base camp", also known as The Lunchcounter. Note the high-fashion long underwear-and-shorts combo. This was the 80s, for sure (though I have to say the combo made a lot of sense in the conditions in Washington).

Mt. Adams summit. I believe that in the end we went up the bare slopes, for the most part, but came down the snow in a couple of long glissades that took the seat out of my pants!