Washington State

Van Trump Park

Sep 13

This past weekend, I had hoped to take advantage of the virtually full moon with a trip down to Mount Rainier National Park. I opted to head for a new location within the park and decided on Van Trump Park on the mountain’s south side. The wildflower meadows of Van Trump Park have looked nice in photos I’ve seen and the viewpoint offered by Mildred Point also looked mighty impressive. The area can be accessed by two different trails but the more “direct” route is via the trail up to Comet Falls.

The Park Service says that it’s 1.8 miles to Comet Falls and then another 0.8 miles up to Van Trump Park with a total elevation gain of 2,000 feet. The waterfalls make this a very popular hike and I had some doubts about finding a parking spot during the middle of the afternoon. As luck would have it, there were two spots available so we quickly grabbed one of them. Washington has been experiencing its own “heat wave” so the temperature was in the 80s to start our hike. Thankfully, the hike is mostly forested which helps moderate the temperatures slightly.

The trailhead itself is just west of Christine Falls and stays close to Van Trump Creek once it finally crosses the creek. Ascent is steady but manageable except the last 1/3rd of the distance to Comet Falls where some switchbacks increase the rate of elevation gain. Van Trump Creek is very pretty with constant twists, turns, and drops. About 200 yards before Comet Falls, the trail crosses and East Fork of Van Trump Creek and just below the triple falls of Van Trump Falls (also known as Bloucher Falls).

We dropped packs to take a break and to take some photos. The creek here has some nice back & forth movement over bedrock. After finishing up, we traveled around the corner for our first good look at Comet Falls. The main waterfall is main attraction but just downstream from Comet Falls are two sizable waterfalls in succession. Immediately around the Comet Falls area was a real nice display of wildflowers including Lupine, Arnica, Cow Parsnip, Sitka Valerian, and American Bistort. It may be September but the falls still had a nice amount of volume to it.

We were somewhat pressed for time so I wasn’t able to really explore the compositions available around Comet Falls. On paper, the trail gains MORE elevation than the hike up to Comet Falls but it didn’t feel that way. The toughest part above Comet Falls was tempered by the ever expanding views and wildflowers. The trail finally levels off and then arrives at a junction. To the left, the trail winds its way towards Mildred Point (another 0.9 miles away) and to the right lie the expanding meadows of Van Trump Park. We managed to arrive about an hour before sunset so we had some time to head further into Van Trump Park to look for good displays of wildflowers.

The trail into Van Trump Park ends officially in 0.3 miles but the path continues onward and upward. Shortly after this point, the trail bisects a real nice meadow so we decided to stop here. One thing I thought I’d never see- Avalanche Lilly blooms in prime condition in SEPTEMBER! Although our day had been largely bug free, the meadow was a different matter. I think the mosquitoes knew that their season was shorter than normal so they were fairly aggressive. Through in some warm weather and odds are you’re getting a lot of bites because you’re not wearing long sleeves of pants!

Sunset was fairly sublime and didn’t offer much dramatic light over Rainier or the Tatoosh to the south. We hastily made a retreat from the clouds of mosquitoes and then leisurely hiked back down to Comet Falls. The moon had risen above Cushman Crest to our east but wasn’t rising very fast. About halfway down to Comet Falls, we stopped to put on our headlamps and continued on. Reaching Comet Falls before the moonlight did, we stopped to assess our options. I wanted to take some moonlit shows of Comet Falls and that seemed like it would be a LONG wait.

In the end, we both made to decision to hike out. We had to really watch our footing on the way out so it took longer than I expected to make it back out. The trailhead was quiet and deserted except for my lone truck. It was just after 9pm, and we decided to drive up to Ricksecker Point to admire the mountain bathed in moonlight. Despite a virtual full moon, the moonlight wasn’t that strong. A smoggy haze made the mountain appear like one of those landscape paintings in the background of a 1950s movie.

I’m currently using my old dSLR body (my Pentax K-5 is getting a warranty repair at the moment) and night photography is not one of its strong points. We spent about an hour or so at the view point as I experimented with different exposure lengths. I just wasn’t getting any good shots and we needed to decided whether to car bivy for a sunrise shot the next day or head back home. I ended up voting for the long drive home. The thought of driving back through South Hill / Graham / Kent / Renton / Bellevue on a Monday morning didn’t appeal to me.

This was a nice first trip into Van Trump Park. Pressed for time, we weren’t able to make it all the way out to Mildred Point. This is something I’d like to correct sometime in the future (the vast canyon view from there looks fantastic). The wildflower display here might not be as stunning as Paradise or Mazama Ridge but the greater potential for solitude more than makes up for it.

Pinnacle Lake

Sep 08

Over Labor Day, I decided I wanted to attempt to visit the Bathtub Lakes located on the Pilchuck Mountain ridge east of the lookout. Also known as a “poorman’s Enchantments,” the Bathtub Lakes are a series of small tarns located in a subalpine parkland setting. There is no official trail to the lakes but the normal route to access them is via the Pinnacle Lake Trail. At the far end of Pinnacle Lake lies Iodine Gulch which provides the way up to the Bathtub Lakes.

Pinnacle Lake and the trail to it probably would remain a low-key destination if not for a rather tragic crime that occurred in 2006. Sadly, a mother and daughter were found murdered along the trail that year. To this day, the crime remains unsolved with no suspects. This was certainly on my mind as I made my first visit. It was Labor Day and despite being several miles above and off of the Mountain Loop Highway, there were still about a dozen cars at the trailhead.

The trailhead also provides access to Bear Lake which is only approximately 0.3 miles in. Before the lake, the trail forks with the left fork leading up the ridge and towards Pinnacle Lake. The trail has a reputation for being root and rock infested and…it is. I also found the trail to be fairly quiet. It doesn’t cross or parallel any streams or creeks so the only sounds are the wind and an occasional bird. Even with the full sunshine, this left a odd, tense feeling while hiking. There is a memorial plaque to the fallen along the trail and I somehow missed it. This only added to an uneasy feeling.

The trail gains steady elevation but Pinnacle Lake is only about 2 miles beyond Bear Lake. Just before Pinnacle Lake, a large seasonal pond provides a beautiful setting with sedge lined shoreline surrounded by parkland. Pinnacle Lake itself is a long but narrow lake nestled against a cliff with a large boulder / talus field along half of its shoreline. It’s still located below timberline so the view is largely territorial (as real estate agents love to say). Iodine Gulch is located almost at the far end of the lake and a faint way trail leads you to it along the lake’s southern shoreline.

I snacked and took some shots in the talus field before picking my way towards Iodine Gulch. From the lake’s edge, I needed a minute or two to find the boot path that begins the ascent into the gulch. It’s about 900 feet of elevation gain to reach the top of the ridge and the beginning of the Bathtub Lakes. It was 2pm and I made the tough decision to turn around. There was probably plenty of daylight but I would be pushing my “be home by” time pretty hard and that was something I’ve done a little TOO much lately.

I investigated a pond below the outlet of Pinnacle Lake and the larger pond I mentioned previously before beginning my hike out. I seemed to linger long enough to be the last dayhiker to leave the area. The hike out was quiet and even a bit somber for me. I hiked along, looking for the memorial plaque, but never saw it. At some point, I passed the location where two people who loved the outdoors met their end at the hands of another person. It was a heavy feeling that was difficult to shake. Upon my return to the trailhead, only one car remained.

I still long to visit the Bathtub Lakes and the area is certainly aesthetic enough to warrant further visits. I think that when I do return, I won’t be alone. It’s almost impossible to not think about what happened here.

Mount Rainier Biathlon

Aug 16

My first connections to the Pacific Northwest began with a visit to the Carbon River valley portion of Mount Rainier National Park. My first visit to Green Lake as well as the hike to the snout of the Carbon Glacier left such an impression that I wanted to make this area my home. Through the years, I’ve made repeated visits to both. I had wondered about what lay beyond the glacier’s snout and one summer, I made my first hike up to Moraine Park.

Tucked away alongside the Carbon Glacier, Moraine Park starts about 5300 feet and is bordered to the south by Moraine Ridge at 6000 feet. The Wonderland Trail bisects the area and I’d hazard a guess that the majority of its visitors are Wonderland Trail hikers on their way to Mystic Lake and destinations beyond. I have made the hike to Moraine Park three times before. My first time, I was blown away by the display of Avalanche Lillies along the trail in lower Moraine Park. On another visit, I explored Moraine Ridge (the high point on the Wonderland Trail in this area) and eventually found myself perched above the sprawling Carbon Glacier and the formidable Willis Wall and north face of Mount Rainier.

My last visit was five years ago. Since then, the active nature of the Carbon River down in the lower valley damaged the Carbon River Road so severely that the National Park Service finally gave up on the road. These days, if you want to visit Moraine Park, you must hike or bike the 5 miles of the road AND THEN hike 8 miles. Through the years, this has been a pretty big deterrent but my fading memories of the views finally compelled me to return.

My last visit was with my point & shoot so I really wanted to capture the views with my latest SLR gear. Luckily, I was able to convince a friend to join me on this long outing which I’ve dubbed the Mount Rainier biathlon. I know we needed an early start so I met him in South Hill at about 7am. From there, we made our way to the Park’s Carbon River entrance. To my surprise, the small lot next to the ranger station was already full so we parked alongside the road just inside the gate. We geared up and set out on our bikes around 8:30.

I’ve hiked the road several times on my way to Green Lake and biking the road definitely made quick work of the distance! The road is steady (but gently) uphill so I knew the ride back would be low effort and a relaxing end to the whole outing. The road has about 3-4 major sections of damage but otherwise is a gravel road still in good condition. The damaged sections a little tricky to navigate due to large amounts of cobble and sand. As you reach the Ipsut Creek Campground (road end and trail head), you navigate through some of the most severe damage. After just over an hour, we reached the campground where we locked up our bikes to an eye hook at one of the camp sites.

Now it was time to travel on foot. The first quarter mile of trail has always struck me as some of the prettiest stretch of the Carbon Glacier Trail. The flood damage of recent years has changed that. Throughout the day, I found myself telling my friend “wow- that’s different” a number of times. Although I’ve hiked the trail a number of times, I never stopped at Ipsut Falls. We made the brief side trip and the dappled sunlight through the trees really made a beautiful scene.

Pressing on another two miles we reached the junction with the trail that crosses the river valley and joins the Northern Loop Trail. At some point the “traditional” trail to the Carbon Glacier became damaged so, for now, hikers are rerouted across to the north side of the valley. I have to admit that the north side is prettier and more aesthetic. After about 1.5 miles, we reached the snout of the Carbon Glacier. The wildflowers alongside the trail here were about prime and putting on a nice show. We rested a bit in preparation for the climb up and into Moraine Park.

While the day had been pleasant and cool to start, the climb up away from the snout was in the sun and the sweat began to pour. After another mile, we reached the Dick Creek camp and the shade of the forest for the final switchback climb to Moraine Park. Your arrival in Moraine Park is the crossing of Moraine Creek. Suddenly the forest is a bit more open and parkland. The trail travels up a gully between what I guess are two older lateral moraines.

In this lower portion of Moraine Park, we finally hit some snow patches but nothing substantial. As a testament to our non-summer, I guess that we were perhaps a week shy of “prime” Avalanche Lilly conditions. Many were in bloom but still more were preparing to bloom. We enjoyed the pleasant stroll that leads you up to the large 13 acre meadow below Moraine Ridge. This meadow provides you with your first BIG view of the north face of the mountain. Suddenly, all the large old growth trees you hiked past seem small.

At the far side of the meadow, a short series of switchbacks take you up to the 6,000+ saddle (also part of the divide between the White River and Carbon River drainages). While the Wonderland Trail continues downhill another 0.6 mile to Mystic Lake, a way trail heads west past a couple tarns and steadily climbs up through the subalpine parkland. After cresting a knoll with a worthy view of its own, the path grows a bit more fainter and drops down into a small tundra-like basin. Climbing through stunted heathers and wildflowers, there’s just one final scramble up the lateral moraine to one of the best views in the park.

Throughout our push to this point, we saw clouds slowly creeping up from the lower Carbon River valley. As we dropped our packs and I broke out my camera gear, the clouds caught up with us. They lifted faster than I was able to set up for my first shot. Luckily, we had some time to spare before our turnaround time of 5pm. In a few minutes, the clouds parted like they tend to do in the mountains and we were treated to clear views of the mountain and glacier. We had the entire view to ourselves and the only sounds were the large waterfall across the valley from us and the ping-ponging of rocks within the Carbon Glacier below us.

We soaked in the sights as much as we could but eventually we had to turn back. After spending most of the day ascending nearly 4800 vertical feet, the descent went much faster. I had passed on taking a particular shot from the lower end of the Moraine Park meadow on our way up because I thought it would be better light on our way back. We were racing to beat the upwelling clouds and I thought we would just beat it. Turns out I was wrong. As I swung my tripod out of my backpack, the clouds drifted in. I was only able to rattle off just two shots before the clouds obscured the mountain permanently.

My friend noticed this one tree in the area whose bark had been peeled away like a banana by a bear. It definitely made a curious sight. The time for photography was over and now it was time to hike out. We had a LONG way to go and not many more hours of daylight. The cumulative effects of the day were already wearing on me. After replentishing our water, we set out. One by one, we again passed milestones from earlier in the day.

Our last break was the final bridge across the Carbon River, 2 miles from the trailhead. I felt completely spent but light was fading like sand through an hourglass. I had given a time estimate to my girlfriend about when we would be done and I knew that we would be off- A LOT. One last time, we stood up and plowed onward. At this stage of fatigue, auto-pilot mentality clicks in. The scenery fades away and my only focus is on my footing to prevent a trip or stumble. The closer we got to the trailhead, the darker the forested sections of trail got.

We finally passed the turnoff for Ipsut Creek and I knew we were finally down with the hike. Of course, we still had 5 miles of road to navigate in the dark. Both of us came prepared with headlamps so we did the best we could. There is nothing like absolute pitch black darkness and pale LED light to make you unsure of how to ride a bike. I think I would have felt safer with training wheels! Within a short distance away from the campground, I stopped abruptly and promptly fell over. I heard a sickening sound which I assumed was a piece of camera gear breaking.

No time to check- have to keep moving. The undamaged portions of the road went by as smoothly as could be expected. The occasional section of sand and cobble would instill fear and several near misses were averted. The whole dark bicycle ride out was somewhat of a surreal experience. We rode wobbly side by side to combine the lighting of our headlamps. The huge old growth trees in the peripheral of my vision looked like fog and the whole road ahead seemed to be a featureless landscape.

After making our way through the last damaged section of road (first on the way in), we were able to comfortably coast our way back to the ranger station and my truck. Eventually, the reflectors on the access gate came into view and we were back at my truck. Time? 10pm on the nose. A very, very long day had finally come to an end without any severe injuries. Granted, I could barely walk and I was 3 hours over the time I said I would be done hiking but still a successful day.

Reaching Moraine Park has always been a serious effort and with the road’s demise it has become even more so. Three backcountry camps lie within 4 miles of Moraine Park so I would wholeheartedly recommend a visit to anyone.

Captain Point

Jul 31

It’s been almost a full month since my last outing so to remedy this, I visited a little-known summit named Captain Point. I know *I* had never heard of it before this past week. I had been examining some aerial imagery looking for ideas for this weekend when I noticed the unbelievably green meadow just east of the Captain Point summit. The meadow has a southern aspect so, with this absence of summer we’ve experienced, the odds were better that this spot might have some wildflowers by now.

Captain Point rises to a height of just over 5700 feet and sits in the Martin Creek valley, a tributary to the Tye River. It is also situated just outside the Henry M Jackson wilderness which ultimately means that it has been, and continues to be, logged. The results are certainly an eyesore but the network of roads do provide relatively easy access to the high country. Ah- but there is a catch! More specifically, an access gate.

This small drainage suffers from checkerboard ownership- one Forest Service section is surrounded by sections under private ownership. The Forest Service’s road (Road 6710) ends in the Martin Creek valley bottom, 2500 feet below the summit of Captain Point. Judging by trip report searches, the summit receives few visitors and the open/closed status of the gate seems to change which each report. I had mentally prepared for hiking the road to our destination but as we reached the gate, it was open!

We drove on past the gate began climbing. The road is in fairly good shape with a few rough sections that probably require true 4×4 instead of Subaru AWD due to large amounts of rock and off-camber conditions. My original plan was to follow a lower spur road leading to the bottom of the meadowed slopes and we reached this junction in no time. From this vantage, it did not appear as though there were any flowers in the meadow. It was snow-free and definitely green but no hint of other color.

My friend convinced me to drive further up the road since we both knew there was a large landing where 5 spur roads came together. As we came upon the landing, small patches of snow were present alongside the road. I decided that the landing would be the furthest we would drive since I wasn’t sure we would have the ability to turn around. This cut our elevation gain to only 900 feet from truck to summit. Much better than 2500 feet!

The first road switchback after the landing was a solid 2-3′ snowbank. Beyond this, however, the road was snow-free and in a relatively short amount of time we reached the saddle between the true and satellite summits. Here we were treated to even greater views of Mount Fernow and the north face of Mount Rainier. We also were treated to a few wildflower displays of Sitka Valerian, Spreading Phlox, and two varieties of Penstemon. After taking some photos, we packed up for the final ascent of the true summit.

About 20 minutes later, we topped out on the summit of Captain Point. From this lofty but unassuming perch, we were treated with 360 degree views. The north slopes were still covered with winter’s snows. Just about every major Cascade peak was visible- Glacier Peak, Mount Rainier, Mount Baker, Mount Shuksan, and Mount Stuart. Although a bit hazy, we were also able to see The Brothers mountain in the Olympics which was 90 miles away. Closer to us, we spied a couple of hikers on the summit of Scorpion Mountain and one careless individual who was shooting targets illegally on one of the logging roads to our northeast.

The summit block had some small patches of Davidson Penstemon (Penstemon davidsonii) which were perfectly positioned for a great composition of Mount Fernow’s east face. Mosquitoes were out in force and seemed to take a liking to me. I tried my best to ignore them but eventually I had enough! Almost an hour later, we were back at my truck. On our way back down, we were admiring the ridgeline east of us and wondering about what appeared to be a lake. A road network zigzags up the length of the ridge and seemingly came close to this particular lake.

On our way out of the valley, we decided to try and reach this lake via the road network. We passed a nice stream crossing (presumably the creek that drains the lake) and just as we broke out into the logged slopes, we were met by a LOCKED gate. The lake would not be visited on this day but I did want to briefly stop at the creek we had crossed.

The creek upstream of the road was currently in shade so I quickly jumped on the opportunity. As I was doing that, my friend noticed some small falls just about 50 yards further upstream. After finishing up next to the road, we hiked up to the falls area. The area had some interesting rock formations to photograph. The bright sunshine was still filtering through the forest canopy so all my shots were bracketed sets of 3-4 individual exposures.

We did have to end the day early so we packed up and headed home. I was really surprised and happy with what we found up this valley. Expect to find this spot show up in future posts. Next up for me will probably be the full moon and Perseid meteor show which occur on the same day this year- August 13th. Weather permitting, I have some plans for this night that I hope work out!

Lesser side of Mount Baker

Jul 04

If you’ve visited my photo galleries, you will notice that Mount Baker (and the Mount Baker area in general) is a favorite subject of mine. The vast majority of Mount Baker compositions are taken either from the north or from the south. The west side is seldom seen and for a good reason- access to viewpoints is severely challenged. While a forest service road (Road 38) provides some access to the area, the surrounding ridges and peaks largely lie in private ownership.

One day I was exploring the area with Google Earth and I found a ridge spine which seemed to offer a great view of the mountain without any logging activity in the foreground:

Even better, the spot looked to be a short hike via a decommissioned logging road. On this holiday weekend, I headed out with a friend to put boots on the ground and find out if the view lived up to my own hype. Before the actual hike, I made the brief side trip up the Clearwater Creek valley to show my friend the huge unnamed waterfall I discovered earlier in spring.

Full sun provided its natural challenges with shade and full sun in the same frame. I scrambled down to the creek’s edge to shoot the lowest tier of the waterfall which empties directly into Clearwater Creek. Fortunately, it was early enough in the day that this spot was still shaded by the steep canyon walls. This creek really holds some photographic promise but this brief introduction indicates it won’t give up its goods easily. Water’s edge is mostly bedrock with little to no margin for cross country travel. I might make another trip here later in the summer once the water levels subside a bit to spend the day.

Having reloaded back into my truck, we headed off and up the logging roads to our destination. The Middle Fork Nooksack River valley is nestled between Mount Baker and the Twin Sisters range. The higher you go, the better the views of the Twin Sisters become. The higher I went, the more neglected the road became. The alder alongside the roads became thicker and closed in. My truck received many new scratches thanks to the alders.

Just when the views of the Twin Sisters couldn’t get any better, Mount Baker finally came into view. The summit was wrapped in cloud but the Black Buttes were visible along with the Coleman and Thunder Glaciers. We arrived at what I determined to be our “trailhead” and we could see our destination only 0.7 miles directly across from us. The sun’s rays were heating up the day (hey- this part of the country hasn’t experienced warm weather for almost 260 days!) and after finding the best entry point, we dove into the forest to pick up the old logging road.

The road’s beginning was still fairly well defined thanks to its notching into a hillside. The upslope side still had a drainage ditch and the downslope side of the road dropped away. By the end of the day, we joked to ourselves that the best way to tell where the road was located was to look for one thing: Sitka Alder. It seemed to ONLY grow within the boundaries of the old roadbed. Where it grew, it grew thick and vertically straight (at least initially!).

The road had several culverts (which were removed and set aside on site) which created a series of small obstacle courses. Each crossing required climbing down and back up, all the while crawling over, under, and through alder and willows. Despite the constant slaps in the face by branches, I felt we made good progress. I was able to frequently check our progress using my Motion-X GPS app, which I had prepped for this outing my caching the aerial photos from our hike. This turned out to be a good thing because the ground conditions at times didn’t seem to coincide with what we saw on the ground.

About halfway out we crossed the one true creek in the area and the uphill began. At this point, I also ran out of flagging. Since there was no trail, I brought a bunch of pink flagging strips which I would periodically hang on alder branches to mark our route. I didn’t bring the entire roll with me and hoped that the route would become more obvious and not require flagging. It did break out into some open stretches but the groves of alder continued to dominate and hinder our travel.

After more brush, we reached an old road junction which signaled the start of our more strenuous ascent. My friend had been leading our incursion into the reclaiming forest and by this point, was starting to feel its cumulative effects. We slogged on until we met a junction with a slide path. We took an extended break as I consulted the GPS to determine where we were. I estimated that we could save some distance by traveling straight up the slide path (which joined the last road switchback) but it would obviously be more immediate elevation gain.

We decided to try it since it was clear travel in comparison to the alder slapfest we were enduring. About what we thought was halfway up, we could not definitively see the road switchback above us. I was feeling physically better so I huffed up the remaining distance to scout it. Huzzah! Success. I topped out onto the last road switchback and passed that fact on to my friend. He pressed on and soon enough joined me there. At this point he was really wiped out. I knew we were close so I told him I would press on the remaining distance. If I had a great view of Mount Baker (which I never really knew for certain I would), I was going to blow my emergency whistle four times……..

PEEP! PEEP! PEEP! PEEP!

I walked back towards the landing to blow my whistle again and make sure he heard me. I started to see some of the alder branches shake so I knew he was coming towards me. We strolled around the corner and began to enjoy the view:

Once again, the summit was capped by clouds but they were fluid. Shortly after setting up my gear and taking my first few shots, the clouds parted over the summit. It was a brief moment but one that was repeated several times during our stay. The view was tremendous and definitely was as good as what I had seen using Google Earth. Below us was the Warm Creek drainage and the creek has an impressive waterfall that drops about 250 feet. It added the perfect accent to the uniform forest in the lower left portion of my wide angle shots.

I had an obligation later in the evening and we were running behind schedule. As amazing as it was, we had to turn back. Lost in all of my narrative here is the amazing view of the Twin Sisters. Once again, this side of the Twin Sisters isn’t commonly seen. Before packing up for good, I spent a few minutes taking some photos:

The rewards were over and the tribulations began once again. Having flagged most of the route, it helped us on our return journey. Both of us were definitely stumbling around so we resorted to traveling from flag to flag. Despite the severe fatigue, we made good time on our journey back and in one glorious moment, crashed back out of the brush and onto the road where we parked hours before.

I would love to return to this spot in the future (although I think I might need to convince my friend to join me!). The big thing I learned from this outing was that this trip can’t SAFELY be done as a sunset or sunrise dayhike attempt. I can only imagine what kind of angle or knee sprain injury would be awaiting me while hiking in the dark. A nice campsite high up at the last road switchback exists but any water would have to be obtained at the lone creek crossing and hauled up to the campsite. All in all, a very successful discovery!

Money Creek

May 29

[NOTE: I need to clarify something since this post has been retweeted on Twitter- Money Creek is NOT within the Wild Sky Wilderness. My original plans for this day included exploring Lewis Creek which DOES extend into the Wild Sky Wilderness. Carry on!]

I spent the first day of the Memorial Day weekend scouting some new areas up the Highway 2 corridor. My original destination was Lewis Creek, just outside of the town of Index along Index-Galena Rd. Lewis Creek has a good gradient to it so I was hoping for some drops and cascades. A (gated) logging road provides some relatively quick access to the newly enacted Wild Sky Wilderness portion of the creek. I was disappointed to find the creek corridor to be pretty chaotic and too difficult so I cut my losses and looked to go someplace else.

I eventually decided on Money Creek, a valley somewhat off on its own without a major destination (the exception being Lake Elizabeth). I must say that I was very pleasantly surprised. The creek is more like a river and is full of rocks and boulders providing ample interest. The forest along the banks of the creek is generally pleasant and compliments the creek well. There never seems enough time in the day because of the way I work through a location so I was only able to explore two locations.

Like other photographers, there’s usually something that draws my attention to stop and photograph. Once I’ve worked through my possibilities with the original attraction, I usually sit down and study the surrounding environment. On this day, intermittent sunshine kept me waiting for the periods of more diffuse light of cloud cover. While waiting, I had plenty of time to look downstream and across to the opposite bank from my location. From there, I noticed these two trees across from me and the series of boulders in the creek.

The first photo shows the scene with some direct sunlight which made the moss on the trees glow a little bit. Compare that scene with the second photo when the sun went behind some clouds. I liked this but I also noticed the moss on the rocks in the lower left of the frame. It’s a nice added touch but it doesn’t get the attention it needs in my previous composition. I wondered if I moved about 30 feet downstream, would that give me a better perspective that does include the moss?

Indeed, the slight physical move does allow me to keep the same basic composition but add the bonus of the moss. This is the benefit from taking your time and really studying your surroundings. Just give yourself more time to see what’s there. Every time I drop my backpack to take a photo, I’m usually in the same location for AT LEAST 15 minutes. No one likes pulling out their gear and re-packing it constantly so why not make it worth it? This probably won’t won’t sit well with your friend/wife/girlfriend if they happen to join you on a photo outing but hopefully they’re understanding enough!

The second location I stopped at was even more deserving due to the number of distinct scenes all within 30 yards of each other. I spent about 90 minutes examining this short stretch of the creek. For me, the first shot isn’t usually “the one”- it’s one of the subsequent shots. Take your time and really take in the surroundings. Isn’t that why you’re out there in the first place??

I think I’ll come back in another month to spend another full day of exploring. Despite an elevation of only around 1500 feet, several trees were still barely leafed out so I think conditions could get just a little better.

Now I Say Goodnight to Winter

Apr 26

An ironic title, given the title I used for last week’s posting. In fact, as I write this, the snow level will dip below 1,000 feet again. All this just days from the month of May! Nonetheless, winter for me isn’t over until the Mount Baker Ski Area season comes to an end and that finally happened this past weekend. A gorgeous day of sunshine was forecasted so sticking around after an afternoon on the slopes for sunset was in order. For once, the weather forecasts were actually correct and the day progressed with clear skies.

By 5pm, things around the ski area had quieted down and the last wave of snowshoers were returning from their day trips up to Artist Point. As they returned, I was geared up and on my way up to Artist Point. I attempted a sunset from up here last winter and had some keepers with great pink alpenglow colors on Mount Shuksan. One thing about that visit was that I felt rushed looking for compositions due to a short lead time into that sunset. This time, I made it up onto the ridge before the “golden hour” before sunset and that allowed me to traverse along Kulshan Ridge and check everything out.

I hike all the way out towards the high point of Huntoon Point. Before the last ascent, I noticed a snag sticking out of the snow. I immediately recognized it as a snag I had photographed last fall. I put together this side by side shot to give you an idea of how much snow really accumulates in this area:

The snag (the right-most one in the right-hand photo) was probably 12+ feet tall and is situated on a rise that is 8-10′ above the trail. Seeing only the top 3 feet of the snag leaves a whole lot of snow underneath my feet!

I hoped I could find a spot which would leave me with compositions of both Mount Shuksan and Mount Baker but found this a challenge. In winter, the ridge top takes on a convex shape due to wind transport of snow. The only trees that aren’t buried are located down off the crest on either side. This means that you have to physically relocate from one side to the other in order to shoot either mountain. Now throw in a slew of snowshoe tracks and ski traverses throughout your foreground and you have your work cut out for you!

My decision was to hunker down and face Mount Shuksan and the Swift Creek headwaters. Besides, I enjoyed the vast scene dropping away in front of me. As the minutes of the golden hour ticked away, the light began to change from white to golden light. I hoped and patiently waited for the peak colors to appear but they never graced the slopes of Mount Shuksan. A bit frustrating because I could see better light to the south towards Whitehorse Mountain and to the northwest towards American Border Peak!

As luck would have it, I stood up and looked back towards Table Mountain & Mount Baker and the sky had some nice orange color but was starting to fade. Before committing to my vantage point of Mount Shuksan, I had scouted a composition for Mount Baker. I further prepped the spot by stamping out a firm pad in the snow. Now that time was of the essence, I was able to quickly set up and not have my tripod legs sink down into the snow pack.

I snapped off a few shots and was quite surprised to see that my camera was able to contain the entire dynamic range within one exposure. My visit last winter was with my Pentax K10d whose sensor technology was three-ish years old. My current Pentax K-5 has some of the best dynamic range you can currently buy in the APS-C format and I’ve become a firm believer in this. I remembered another scene just on the other side of Huntoon Point so I humped all my gear as quickly as I could over to a half buried small snag.

After a few more quick snaps, any magic light that was left faded away. Donning my snowshoes once again, I quickly made my way back towards the buried Artist Point parking lot and the descent back down to Heather Meadows. So ended the day, and so ended another ski season and winter. Despite the obvious abundance of snow, it was personally a weird winter. Perhaps I’ve been spoiled by previous winters but the lack of a lower elevation snowpack was a real disappointment.

Along with a number of other locations, Nooksack Falls received intermittent snow which prevented me from getting the truly winter scene I’ve been hoping for. The Ohanepecosh River valley was virtually bone dry all the way up close to 2,000 feet. Closing the door on winter does open the door for summertime, wildflower meadows, and the beautiful high country. Granted, it will be a while before it will be accessible but the trip planning and research can begin now!

Snow Returns to the Valley

Mar 06

Things in the North Fork Nooksack River valley were looking more normal after what probably will be the last significant lowland snow event. My day up on the slopes at the Mount Baker Ski Area were unfortunately cut way short due to an equipment issue. I packed up and then headed back down into the valley to scout around. Razor Hone Creek has thwarted my efforts to reveal its treasures several times but I spied a relatively easy access point to try out. I feared a laborious wallowing effort and it proved to be true. In the absence of snowshoes, every step sunk down to the crotch. I had to fill my post hole with snow and then tamp it down with my foot to come up with a stable base. Drawing closer to the creek, I didn’t hear it. I feared that the creek had become buried by the 5+ feet of snow during the previous week. Retreating back to the road, I walked back to the bridge over the creek and confirmed that the creek was, indeed, buried. On to the next location!

Back down in the valley, I stopped at a location I have visited before (but not this winter). It’s the western end of short stretch of rapids along with a modest slot canyon. An unnamed creek originating high on Excelsior Ridge also flows into the river at this spot. The fresh snow was nicely piled up on the boulders in the river:

I didn’t find much new or very compelling so I moved on. Close to spot where I took one of my favorite panoramas of the river, I explored a short stretch of river located between that location and a second location I looked at earlier this winter. Right away, I noticed this small cave which had a dense number of icicles inside of it. The rain was trying to turn to snow but wasn’t being very successful.

From here, I decided to head upstream and that required negotiating around a large logjam. On the other side was the tail end of a stretch of rapids. In the middle of the river was a piece of wood, partially frozen and covered with snow which reminded me of a gun from a World War II warship.

By now, my jacket, gloves, and shell pants were getting close to saturation which signaled to me that it was time to go home. It wasn’t the greatest of days but it’s another check mark in my attempt to really know the 5+ mile stretch of the river between Nooksack Falls and Hannigan Pass Road. It’s been a great experience getting to know this area more in depth. I’m usually surprised at what I discover and it’s often no more than 30 yards from the busy highway.

Mount Rainier Lemons

Feb 21

Lemons. Whattaya do you do with them??

I was really looking forward to some plans I had made with a friend this weekend to return to the Ohanapecosh River valley in Mount Rainier National Park to revisit Silver Falls and possibly the Grove of the Patriarchs. We made this hike about two winters ago but I never made it across the hiking bridge to the closer viewpoint of the falls. Leading up to the weekend, the weather forecasts were calling for snow at a low elevation followed for sunshine for the day of our hike. I was excited.

Well…………

Two years ago, we turned onto SR-123 from US-12 and had to immediately park because the highway was snow covered. This year, in the dead of winter, it was completely snow free so we kept driving. We didn’t see ANY snow the entire way up to the gate at the entrance of the park. I thought we’d be able to get a nice cross country ski in on our way to the falls but there was no snow to be seen anywhere.

This was a big letdown but we decided to hike up the road without our skis. We had traveled about 0.75 miles before we encountered any snow on the road and probably another 0.25 mile for it began to build a solid base. It was still thin, and that was reinforced by a Park Service truck which sped past us and then turned into the Ohanapecosh Campground. Just before the turnoff for the Stevens Canyon Road, you reach the trailhead for Silver Falls (2.25 miles from the winter gate).

As the trail dives into the forest away from the road, the snow disappeared. In fact, the short trail to the falls were pretty much free of snow and there were barely any patches of snow in the vicinity of the falls. This “La Nina” winter has really done a number on us in the Pacific Northwest. It should have been snowier in the mountains but it never has delivered. The log bridge crossing over the Ohanapecosh was snow free; 2 winters ago, it had a 3-4′ mound of snow up to its railing.

On the far side, we settled in at the viewing area and I attempted to take some photos. The sun had crested the eastern ridges and was shining brightly on the falls. The photo taking was extremely tough and I resorted to taking bracketed exposures. These weren’t the conditions I was expecting (or hoping) for but an interesting thing began to happen. The spray from the falls was beginning to develop a rainbow and, as the sun rose more, it was getting stronger.

I kept firing off bracketed exposures from the top of the cliff. There are some rock slabs below but they appeared to be icy and very slippery. My friend explored it further and found out that there was a narrow but safe access along the rocks to a better vantage of the falls. I gathered up my gear and headed down to the spot my friend had described. It was better but the spray that was generating the rainbow was also coating the front of my lens rather quickly.

Thus began a repetition of wiping off the front of my circular polarizer, rotating around, and taking my bracketed shots. I’ve done this dance several times before so now I always carry three microfiber cloths with me to help ensure I always have a dry cloth. We spent about an hour at the falls before hiking out. Originally I expected this to be a day long affair but the lack of snow really sped up our outing. Originally, I had hoped that we would finish with enough time to head a little further east on US-12 to the Palisades viewpoint for sunset but now….now we could double pack and head towards the mountain for sunset and I knew where we should go: Ricksecker Point.

This, of course, didn’t prevent us for still visiting the Palisades since it’s just around the corner from the SR-123 / US-12 intersection. The Palisades are a neat volcanic feature right along US-12. Across the small canyon from the viewpoint is an exposed columnar volcanic formation. There’s also a nice bonus view of Mount Rainier in the distance. The timing of our visit couldn’t have been WORSE because the sun was directly overhead of the formation. Photographs were impossible without glare I ended up with just this lone shot of the Palisades and this zoomed panorama of Mount Rainier:

The day was starting to get long so we needed to double back towards the Longmire entrance of Mount Rainer National Park. North of Morton, I noticed some puffy clouds were developing around the west flank of the mountain at around 5-6,000 feet. By the time we entered the park, it was too late to make it up to Paradise so I made Ricksecker Point our primary destination. This spot is a short loop road that has a couple turnout viewpoints of Mount Rainier, the west end of the Tatoosh Range and the Nisqually River valley to the west. In the winter, this road isn’t plowed so it provides a short opportunity to cross country ski. By this time of the afternoon, we had the backside of the loop all to ourselves.

The few clouds I had seen back near Morton turned into a thick mess at Ricksecker Point, obscuring the mountain. The views were otherwise fabulous and we came across an interesting set of animal tracks. If anyone knows what they are, please leave a comment! Only thing I could come up with was maybe a raven hopping across the snow & returning in the same track:

Anyways, the afternoon light was beginning to warm up so we made are way back in hopes that the mountain was once again visible. It wasn’t- but the light was transforming into that classic pink winter light. I concentrated on the view towards the west but Mount Rainier began to show through some expanding windows in the clouds. I shifted locations and then concentrated on Mount Rainier. At the best time possible, the clouds began giving way and we were treated to it’s snowy slopes basking in pink light. Just magnificent!

Due to the NPS policy of shutting the gate in Longmire nightly, we couldn’t stick around too long after the show ended. We hurried back to my truck and drove back down the hill before the 6:30pm closure. The day turned out to be NOTHING like what I had envisioned. By remaining flexible and knowledgeable about where I was going helped me salvage the day. In fact, I ended up with some photos that I never would have taken had I followed through with my original plans!

In other words…make some lemonaide!

A Winter’s Day

Feb 01

Not much of a story for this entry. Here’s a variety of photos from another bluebird day up at the Mount Baker Ski Area and the North Fork Nooksack River valley. The river photos are from another new section of the river for me. A nice spot with some twists and turns in the river and the added bonus of a view of Mount Sefrit in the distance.