Goat Rocks and Surprisingly Large Trout

Each year around Labor Day we wrestle with where, if anywhere, to go for the unofficial last weekend of summer.  This year we thought ahead enough that I took Friday off so Shaun and I could try to get a backpack in we'd been trying to do for a couple of years but that for whatever reason, weather, people, etc, it jus hadn't materialized.  Luckily this year everything seemed to align for us.  I had recently completed two two night backpack trips, one with a couple of friends and one with Shaun, and after a weekend in between it was time to hit the trail once again.  The two backpacking trips both involved a lot of climbing and descending, the latter of which is murder on my knees.  I was still dealing with quite a bit of soreness in my knees, so I was not completely confident in the off-trail portion of this trip, but I decided to at least start the trip.  We could use the first lake as a decision point.  We chose this trail because it's much less crowded than other trails in this region, though we knew we wouldn't have total solitude. We were hopeful that with a Friday start we could put some distance between us and the weekend crowd.  We stayed the night before in a nearby town to allow us to get an early start without investing in a three hour drive.  We were one of only a couple of cars at the trailhead, and we were on our way by 8 am or so.  The beginning of this trail is a little boring unless you like wide meadows full of cow poop.  There were some nice views of the peaks we would be climbing toward, but otherwise, it was underwhelming.  After a couple of miles we entered the forest, climbing gently for a couple of miles, taking a short break to eat a slice of cold pizza from the night before.  The last mile to the lake climbs more earnestly but via nice switchbacks with periodic views of neighboring peaks and a few berries leftover from hungry bears or hungry hikers or both. Along the way we passed a trail crew clearing some downed logs, so we chatted with them for a couple of minutes before ushering an increasingly irritated Birch on up the trail.   

 We had made excellent time except for one instance.  About a half mile in, we both stopped to adjust some layers as we started at a chilly 38 degrees.  My knee was really hurting, and Shaun admitted he wasn't really feeling it and didn't know if he had the motivation to do this trip.  He was getting ready for the start of another school year, and things had been extremely busy for him.  I was beginning to understand I hadn't given my body enough time to recover between trips.  We started listing alternative scenarios that would be a little easier on the body and mind, but we kept coming back to one huge barrier- Labor Day weekend.  We decided to push on to the first lake and then decide from there, as we had originally intended.  We knew the first lake had decent fishing, so it seemed worth it.  Well, it certainly was.  We arrived just before 11 am and followed a trip report tip to skirt around the east side of the lake to find a more secluded campsite.  We were also please to find there were no other suitable areas to camp, and we had easy access to the shore for fishing.  We quickly set up our tent before enjoying another slice of cold pizza.  Stomachs satisfied, it was time to string up the rods and go after the numerous rising fish.  Of course Shaun caught multiple fish before I even had a hit, but what was most impressive was the size of these cutthroat.  When I say the smaller fish we caught was 12", I'm not exaggerating, and most of them were more than 14".  After catching my first, then I caught the biggest.  It was a beautiful cutthroat, fat and colorful.  Good pics were hard to come by in the backlit shade, but we did our best.  After releasing it, I decided to sit along the bank with the dog and take in the surroundings for a while.  Shaun continued to catch fish after fish after fish.  The fly of the day was definitely a tan Chernobyl ant with a purple haze coming in second.  

First glimpse from near our campsite

A heckuva catch in an alpine lake

They say pets and their owners start to look alike after a while

Fading light

Shaun definitely caught the most colorful fish

Midday nap

As we wound down our day we noticed more and more people ascending to the lake.  So much for weekday hiking.  Next time we'll go on a Tuesday, haha.  We knew the next day they would all be going to the lake we planned to go to, and we also knew that area is quite small without a lot of room to spread out tents.  We had seen trip reports of what that area is like when crowded, and it did not interest us.  Couple that with my knee issues and what would be almost a 10 mile trip out on Sunday, we decided we would abandon our plan and be content with the great fishing and relative solitude we enjoyed Friday night.  We were both frustrated to miss out on our goal but also both felt assured we would love to visit this area again with better planning and not anywhere near a holiday weekend.  

We slept well that night despite our disappointment, and I woke early to watch the sunrise.  The lake was mostly still though not as glassy as it was during the sunset the night before.  The alpenglow on the peak, however, was A+.  I suspect the fishing would also have been A+ as they were rising while it was still dark outside.  After a leisurely breakfast, we packed up camp and headed down, my knee reminding me that I had made the right decision to not add more mileage and climbing.  We passed so many people on our way out as well, and I fret over how the lake basins handled that many people.  Hopefully everyone respected the land and we can venture back there next summer to complete our objective.  

Breakfast ready

Fantastic alpenglow

First sunlight trickling down

Daytime

 

Eastern Sierras

We found an unexpected spare weekend in August and decided to go down to the Eastern Sierras to chase some golden trout, something we'd talked about for a long while.  I got some good intel from an instagram contact, and we found some cheap flights, so we jumped at the chance for an adventure, just the two of us.  We love taking Birch anywhere we can, but the added element of managing his reactivity can sometimes make a getaway less relaxing.  We arrived in Reno around 2 am, and while we are typically early risers to hike, we knew we needed to prioritize at least a little sleep since we would also be climbing up to over 10,500' with no time to acclimatize.  We did not anticipate the many construction projects along 395, so we ended up getting a later start around 11:30 am.  We had about 7.1 miles to get to our desired lake, the last mile of that an off-trail navigation that gained nearly 1800'.  The weather was quite nice though warm, and while the trail was pretty exposed, it didn't seem to slow us down too much.  Because of the altitude, we planned to hike a couple of miles then stop for five minutes to properly hydrate and make sure we weren't exerting too much energy before making the final, long climb.  Things were going pretty well, and we were making good time despite having to take our shoes off for one calf deep creek crossing. 

We were using a combination of AllTrails and Garmin GPS units to ensure our navigation was accurate.  We usually average around 2.0 mph hiking speed with our backpacking gear, my pack weighing around 35 pounds with fishing gear, Shaun's weighing probably ten to fifteen pounds more (he's tall, everything weighs more).  Of course, AllTrails isn't nicknamed AllFails for nothing, and it had us approaching the off-trail junction while Shaun's Garmin still had us over a mile away.  What we realized is that AllTrails did not account for the mile road walk through a property easement to get to the actual trailhead, so while we were expecting to go 7.1 miles, we actually had to go 8.1.  So it had actually taken us about 4.5 hours at 2 mph with some breaks.  Once we reached the junction, it was around 4 pm.  Surveying the navigation, it was clear we had a big task on our hands, and while we didn't feel especially tired from hiking, we did feel exhausted from travel and knew that mentally and physically we likely had a lot of work to do to navigate to the lake.  We also knew that once we got to the lake we would probably make camp and have very little time to fish.  After some discussion, we decided to sleep at a lower altitude (better sleep quality) and get up early to tackle the big climb to the lake.  We were both a little disappointed but knew we were making the right decision.  We figured we could make it up in two hours, absolute worst case scenario, which would still give us the whole day and our departure morning to fish.  

Approaching the shoes off crossing

Getting a glimpse of the type of terrain we would be navigating

As we made camp and prepared to go to sleep, we began to hear sheep bleating in the distance.  We knew this land was used for grazing livestock, and as we climbed in the tent, the sounds grew louder until the sheep were right outside our tent.  There was also a devoted LGD who kept one eye on his flock and one eye on us to make sure we didn't have any ill intentions.  The sheep eventually moved across the stream, their bleats fading into the distance as the light faded from the valley.  We slept amazingly well and woke to clear, cold, but windy morning.  We packed up and headed for the junction where there was supposedly a faint trail to follow the remaining mile and a half.  Because of the wind, we elected to eat ProBars along the way instead of bothering with our stove.

Hello

Noisy neeeeeighbors (I know that's a horse sound)

Thankfully moving further away from us

A nice sheltered spot on a soft forested floor

First light on the flatiron

We climbed through the forest with numerous downed trees, picking our way up toward where we thought we would find a more established footpath.  Both of our navigation systems were saying two different things, but given our experience with AllTrails, we were more apt to follow the Garmin.  We backtracked more than once, and it felt like this section was taking way longer than it should.  The elevation was really getting to both of us and was probably magnified by feeling lost.  We knew we would eventually get on track, but we wanted it to happen sooner.  We continued to climb, higher and higher, traipsing over uneven terrain.  We finally broke out of the forest which allowed us to get a better vantage and also made us feel like we accomplished something.  We finally did find a trail that was actually marked with a sign about fire restrictions.  From there it was just climbing.  All climbing.  The mental boost from being on an actual trail was tested by the constant elevation gain, but eventually, we made it, just under that two hour worst case scenario timeline.  Two hours to go a mile and a half.  We had to let go of our pride and realize how the circumstances impacted us- little sleep, travel, altitude, and heavier packs.  We were ecstatic to see no one at the lake.  We found what looked like the only established campsite and set up our tent in an area unfortunately sheltered from most of the sun, but more importantly, sheltered from the strong winds that grew stronger as the day and night progressed.  

Trail

After significant elevation gain, we had a nice view of the flatiron

And still a lot more climbing.  Do you see Shaun at the top of the frame?

Stunted wildflowers

The littlest paintbrush

Another sheltered sight.  We would be very thankful for this later

After setting up camp, we ate a quick snack lunch and strung up our fly rods.  We had only seen one fish rise, so we thought we'd be nymphing mostly.  After a few minutes I had a fish on briefly, but it wiggled off, and then another and another.  The fish were at least decent size, but I was frustrated not to land one.  From there the sun rose higher, the wind picked up, and we took a break from fighting it.  Shaun caught a lakeside nap while I enjoyed the sun.  Mid afternoon, we started up fishing again, this time with streamers.  I caught a small golden, and while I was happy to be on the board, I was bummed it wasn't as large as the ones I had lost.  I figured with the rest of the evening and the next morning I'd be vindicated.  Well, spoiler alert, it wasn't to be.  I caught another couple of small ones, Shaun caught a small one, and that was it.  After enduring a windy night, we fished early the next morning, but once the wind turned the lake into whitecaps, we knew it was time to pack up.  I was not looking forward to the descent at all.  We followed the "trail" this time, but honestly, it wasn't much better and disappeared as we headed into the forest.  We knew our general direction, so it was just a matter of going down, down, down.  Once back on the main trail, it was just a matter of putting one foot in front of the other.  From there, we enjoyed delicious burgers at Walker Burger before checking into our hotel where we were upgraded to a corporate suite where we could watch Harry Potter on a giant sectional couch, scarfing down some barbecue and enjoying much needed showers.  We will be back for those big Goldens again one day.  

Nap time

On the board, though not the size I was hoping

Tired but happy

Hunting a few more small fish

Alpine growing season is very short

Fishing the day away

Blue hour

Golden hour to sunrise

We made our way around the north side of the lake for some last attempts

Eventually stopped by the boulders

BBQ and Potter

Spectacle Lake

 A few months ago, I made plans with two friends to do a girls' backpacking trip over the course of two nights.  The three of us embarked on a Larch March last fall and found ourselves to be a compatible threesome, so it was a no brainer to head into the Alpine Lakes Wilderness with them.  We settled on Spectacle Lake as it had been on each of our lists, and since we would be going in on a Thursday, we hoped to avoid the, ahem, Spectacle that often comes with summer hiking within two hours of Seattle on a nice weekend.  After some delightfully temperate weather the week prior, one of the infamous heat domes was headed our way, just in time to add some extra difficulty to a long trail with a completely exposed climb at the end.  

 I picked up Candice from her place in Tacoma, and we headed out to Cle Elum to meet up with Hannah at the Pete Lake trailhead, right at 8 am.  Once we were all packed and ready, we hit the trail just before 8:30, eager to reach the first checkpoint, Pete Lake, in just around 4.1 miles.  The trail to Pete is almost completely flat, paralleling the Cooper River initially before turning into the forest the rest of the way until reaching the lake.  We arrived to an empty lake mid-morning and took a pre-arranged break to eat a snack and check in to make sure everyone was doing okay since all of us are in our 40's and bring various physical baggage to the table.  After reapplying bug spray, we continued along the lake, arriving at the river crossing after about a mile and a half.  Changing into our Crocs, we easily forded the river which had two frigid threads.  As we dried our feet and filtered some water, an energetic Boykin Spaniel named Ellie and her owner (of course we didn't get her name) crossed just behind us.  It's always such a lift to pet a friendly dog on a trail.  Their energy and enthusiasm for everything is contagious, and with renewed energy, we set off through the next forested section which would eventually take us to a junction with the PCT and to the switchbacks from Hell.  Crazily enough, we ran into a nurse Candice and I used to work with on the rehab unit.  She was hiking with her twin sister.  We chatted for a minute before we continued in opposite directions.  We took another short break to formally eat lunch, though I wasn't feeling hungry so just ate some energy gummies.  This turned out to be not the best idea, as you will soon read.  As we exited the forested section, we ascended into an old burn section full of jagged stumps and profuse fireweed.  Past the PCT junction, we began climbing.  Looking at the time, it was obvious we were going to be in the exposed section during the hottest hours of the day, with temperatures forecasted into the low to mid 80's.  Definitely not ideal, but what can you do?  The switchbacks, though well designed, seemed to go on forever.  I began to realize I had not hydrated or eaten enough.  I ate half a sandwich and some gummies in about 8 miles.  The trail here gained about 1500' in a short distance, and the exposure made everything more arduous.  We were pushing hard to get to the shaded waterfall we knew awaited us about 1 mile from the turnoff to the lake.  At some point I noticed I was no longer sweating and felt sick to my stomach.  I told the girls I needed to sit and drink some fluids and eat something, which of course they were cool with.  I found a bush and tucked myself into the shade.  Despite the heat, there was a nice breeze periodically.  I ate some peanut butter, drank some water, took a couple of salt tablets, and after about 10 minutes, I felt much better.  We continued upward and made it to the waterfall after only about another 10 or 15 minutes.  There were several groups of people in all different states, sitting, soaking in the pools, filtering water, eating, but all of us were giving thanks for being out of the burn.  Despite still having a bit of climbing left, it was under some forest canopy and much more tolerable.  I finished the rest of my sandwich, filtered some cold water, and soaked my hat in the waterfall before putting it back on my head.  I had fully recovered from the heat and actually felt pretty rejuvenated for the last push.  We made good time on the last set of switchbacks and finally arrived at the overlook above Spectacle.  It was real, and it was spectacular!  All that was left was dropping 700' down to the lake (RIP knees) and finding a campsite.  We could see there were already several groups setting up on the popular peninsula.  We had already decided that was a no go for us for the simple fact there was very little privacy (I saw lots of body parts across the way from our eventual campsite).  Surprisingly, even on the unpopular camping side, the campsites were either not level or occupied.  I set my bag down to go look for options.  As I rounded the corner to what looked like a perfect site, I found a tent there and a couple we had chatted with at the waterfall.  I complimented them on their find, and they were super nice and offered us to camp with them as they could tell things were filling up fast.  I thanked them and told them we would do our best to find our own spot, but if we didn't, we would take them up on their offer.  Well, we took them up on their offer.  They were thru-hiking from Stevens Pass to Snoqualmie Pass on part of the PCT, so they were only going to be there for one night.  It was a little cramped with four tents, but more than doable.  

A welcome sight and respite

 We set up camp, filtered a lot of water, and made some dinner as it was near five, and we were starving. The campsite had a beach just down below and a large rock outcropping adjacent where we sat to eat and watch the sunset.  Despite being on a little bit of a hill, I slept pretty well, setting my alarm in time to watch the sunrise.  With few clouds in the sky, I wasn't expected much in the way of a light show, but I try to never miss an alpine sunrise.  The tranquility and watching night pass to day brings me such peace and happiness, and in my opinion, there is no finer way to start a day.  The girls eventually rose, too, and we enjoyed the picturesque reflection before us while making breakfast and enjoying coffee (not me, of course, but I do love the smell).  After taking our time getting going, we set out to walk over to the peninsula and the main part of the lake.  We spent mid-morning to mid-afternoon lounging, chatting, and snacking before enduring a 30 minute rain shower as we contemplated our next moves.  We had talked about hiking up to the ridge for sunset, and while I wanted to, I was concerned about my knee and glute injury I had been dealing with all summer in addition to having another backpacking trip the next weekend that was going to be even tougher climbing than this one.  I was a weak, "maybe."  We ate dinner, and my "maybe" changed to a reluctant "pass." Sometimes you just have to listen to your body even when you don't like what it's telling you, so I decided to stay at camp and hang out while Hannah and Candice climbed up the ridge.  Thunder rumbled in the distance before moving closer and then further away again.  Just as the sun began to dip behind the peaks, the girls were back.  They had some great views from the ridge and were glad they made the trip. 

Campsite beach

My sloping tent site

Sorry Candice, but this was the shot that had all our Crocs in it :)

Photoshoot

Ultimate snack

View from my tent the second night

 I was up early again the next morning.  The prior night was chilly in comparison to the first night.  The sunrise was hazier, and I enjoyed watching some Mergansers swim and dive around the perfectly still lake.  We had another leisurely breakfast before packing up and saying our goodbyes to Spectacle.  The climb up and out went quickly as did our descent to the waterfall where we ran into a PCT hiker and his dog.  We chatted for a minute, and I snapped some pics of him and his dog which I would send to his social media account.  He also told us of a fire that started the night before at Waptus Lake which you get to by taking the PCT junction from the Pete Lake/Spectacle Lake trail, so basically just over the ridge from us.  Knowing nothing about its size and direction, we hastened our pace, wanting to get back to Pete as soon as we could.  We played leapfrog with some more section hikers and everyone on the trail was buzzing about the fire.  We learned PCT hikers were being rerouted away from Waptus, meaning they had to exit at Pete or wait it out somewhere else.  We sped down the switchbacks which still felt hellish-ly long, but we did pass tons of adorable dogs which kept morale high.  Back at the crossing, we could hear the leapfrog group trying to make plans.  It was an odd mix of a crew at first, but we found out two of them were teachers and former PCT hikers along with one of their other trail friends, and they were chaperoning a school group from an adventure school in Bellingham.  There were 6 or 7 of them (I'm blanking now), and they were stuck with no ride.  Trail magic refers to acts of kindness bestowed upon strangers, though in the true spirit of the trail, no one is a stranger and everyone is a friend.  We told them we could get them to  North Bend where they would have someone come pick them up and take them back to Bellingham.  We might be cramped, but we'd figure it out.  They were super grateful.  We decided to each go our own pace and reunite in the parking lot.  We leapfrogged a few more times along the way.  

 The last miles to the trailhead, even though flat, are torturous.  All I could think of was deodorant, clean clothes, wipes, and a burger/beer.  We passed time quoting movies and laughing about our favorite sitcoms, and eventually, we were back to the lot!  We chatted with a nice guy, Kurt, who couldn't find his key fob but knew it was in his backpack somewhere as he was able to open his door, haha.  He overhead us talking about how to cram the section hikers into our cars, and he graciously offered to help, stating he could take two or three.  Two for Candice and me, three for Hannah, and two or three for Kurt.  Shortly after, the group arrived, and we set off for Roslyn to get some food.  We had to split into three tables, so the girls and I sat with Kurt and go to know him better.  He is a dentist but has taken time off to write a novel and in that time got really into hiking.  We also found out he was camping right across the water from us, and I probably have some photos of him sitting by the lake at sunset.  After finishing our meal, we drove to the Safeway in North Bend where one of the kids' dads had already arrived to get part of the group home.  We said our goodbyes to them, and to Hannah, and were on our way.  I dropped Candice off in Tacoma, and as I drove south to Olympia, the wildfire sun set over the Olympics, and I was filled with contentment.