i decided to hike the Wagonwheel Lake trail. sounds lackadaisical and charming. in reality,the trail gains 3200 feet in 2.9 miles, for a 5.8 mile round-trip. i knew this before i set out. besides, the sign at the nearly-hidden trailhead at Staircase says "Very Steep!" the bottom .25 mi of the trail is through lush forest. the next 1.25 mi is a somewhat boring forest with some breaks in the canopy. it has frequent "switchbacks". in reality the trail goes straight up the side of the mountain. when it runs out of room, it turns and goes the other direction. the trail is composed of tree roots and larger, loose rock. there is no respite. if you stop for more than 30 seconds, the loudest mosquitoes i have ever heard (louder than northern Minnesota!) would stalk you. add to this that it was strangely humid (doesn't happen often in the NW). it quickly became clear to me that, although this trail is in a national park, hoards don't undertake the torture. the two groups i saw coming down had clearly not completed their journey. the few breaks in the canopy were filled with plants choking the trail. the trail was well-maintained (if not well-designed), just not well-used.
rounding one of the "switchbacks", three snowball-sized ground birds fluttered from the trail into the forest. cute, i thought, mayhap quail. i rounded the corner and heard a repetitive sound of exhalation. that's when i spotted the ENORMOUS grouse in the tree nary six feet from my person. holy fuck! she was clearly not scared of humans, making me wonder how many she encounters.
at 1.5 mi, there is a fairly good overlook at the surrounding mountains. at this point, i had assumed i had gone at least 3 mi. oh no. here the trail goes straight up the goddamn mountain for .5 miles. no steps. scree and dirt. the impossible ascent is tempered with the beautiful, lush hemlock forest. plus you get to wend your way through an avalanche chute. but most of the time you're just contemplating your own death. at one point, i stashed my bag (that was soaked with sweat) and continued on.
at 2 mi, the trail becomes "level". but if you think that means less treacherous, you're mistaken. the trail is loose dirt skirting the side of the mountain. as in, sometimes you step and the ground gives way and you scrabble to not slide down the mountain. the plants were taller than my head and covering the trail. i walked with my hands held high (i grew up in the Midwest, with poison ivy and nettles). passing a slope of mountain wildflowers, some of which i'm fairly certain weren't native, the hum of bees was deafening. i was hiking, putting my feet ahead and hoping there was a trail. eventually, the trail entered a cool forest, crossed a stream, and let loose with a view of Wagonwheel Lake.
the lake was pretty. not the most beautiful i've seen, but welcoming. the trees surrounding it all were groaning in the wind. a small goat path goes down to the water. i looked down and saw...what the fuck? salamanders? they were the biggest tadpoles i have ever seen, longer than my hands. they alternately moved like snakes or swam lazily with their legs dragging beneath them. they didn't react to my presence at all, although an adult frog did. i tried very hard to resi
st skinnydipping in the lake. after all, it's in a national park. i sat with my shoes off. my shirt off. in the end the temptation was too great. as i stepped in, the tadpoles didn't move. my foot was right next to one. kind of creepy. i just dipped underwater twice and removed myself. i wanted to swim. but i resisted the lure.on the way up, my Achilles tendons were screaming (i have infrequent problems with them). on the brutal way down, my toes were always pointing straight down the mountain, slipping on loose rocks. my ankles were in pain, my toes were smashed, but it was my knees that were screaming trying to control my momentum on the trails that went straight down. i was racing the sunset (not the kind of trail you want to be caught on in low light). by the time i was finally down, my body was brutalized and completely soaked with sweat.
i changed and wandered down to the campground to find the Langston boys and the Newton girl. they were out for a hike. so i sat on an enormous downed tree amidst the river. it was dusk, so the dragonflies were at their labor. i met up with my crew, ate, drank, and retired early.
i woke up early and read The Forest of Hands and Teeth on a log by the river. the mist was covering the mountains. it was dreary and delightful weather for reading about the zombie apocalypse. the kids were going to hike Mount Ellinor, one of the main attractions of the Olympics. i wasn't. but at the last minute, i decided i was in, despite the soreness from the day before. from the upper trailhead, this hike is 2300 feet in 1.6 mi, for 3.2 mi total. Chris and i had been on an expedition last year that tried to hike Mount Ellinor, but we were stopped by snow and inclement weather. so, the first part of the trail was familiar. the stairs straight up the mountain were killing my Achilles and i was about to turn back when the switchbacks began. real switchbacks. i was alternately hurting and forging ahead on the path up the mountain. we were often shrouded in fog, obscuring the view and adding a surreal tone to the hike. at one point, there was a hike up steps that led to fog, beyond to fog, and then finally mountain. i felt like i was in The Clouds Above. eventually we made it, sometimes on a well-marked trail, sometimes scrambling up the mountain. it smelled like goat at the top and there were lots of quite adorable ground squirrels begging for feed.
the way down was complete torture. we saw a mountain goat, quite close. they were shedding their winter coats, so their fur was everywhere. it was scenic. but they aren't native to the Olympics and are wreaking havoc on the terrain. so i was more like, "oh! a mountain goat! oh! fuck you mountain goat!". going down the mountain, my knees wanted to die. there was not a section that i was not in discomfort. that is until i remembered i had my...um...medicine in a flask in my bag. after imbibing a share, the hike improved immensely. i joined the kids for a milkshake in town. then, i rushed back to Tacoma for the Graphic Novel Book Club.
i thought i'd be stupid after my exertion. but when several people didn't understand parts of American Born Chinese, i put forth my explanations and defended them. also gave some background in Monkey King lore. afterward, i had illusions of a long soak. but, in the end, i just fell asleep. for twelve hours. the next day, i was fine. very little soreness, no problems with knees even when walking uphill. went to kung fu and had a passable workout. tonight i jogged three miles, ending with a sprint, and could have gone farther. in conclusion, i love my body. my adventure with my cohorts was a fun, if brutal get-away. and i got to see giant salamander-things. what did you do?
