Weekend 14: Backpacking in the Olympic Range

Another time warp, another two weekends gone between this and my previous post. Weekends 12 and 13 were spent in Roanoke seeing friends, family, concerts, drunk nights, the first days of VA fall, etc... I caught the concert for Virginia Tech on Thursday. I bought my sister her first LEGAL beer on the following Wednesday at 12 AM (i.e. Thursday, her 21st birthday). I drank too much at Kristin's party that Friday and paid for it harder than you can imagine on Saturday... Then there was Erin's birthday/goodbye party. And then I was off to the airport headed back to Seattle. Talk about whirlwind.

So, the Olympics backpacking trip; it was sweeeeeet. I had wanted to go to the peninsula all summer to hit the hills, but bad weather and the fact that I was constantly busy doing other things kept me away. Well, prior to my VA trip, one of the guys who had recently re-moved into the house said he was interested in going, so we set it up. The plan was to depart early on Saturday, catch the Edmons Ferry to Kingston, drive to Port Angeles and from there take the road leading up Hurricane Ridge deep into the mountains... and then hike even deeper.

Trees were only just showing signs of falls presence.

We found ourselves on top of Hurricane Ridge by 11 AM that morning. This is looking out from the ridge into the mountains where we would soon be hiking. The cloud cover is quite typical of the Olympics. In the later parts of the season, partly clouded skies do wander in from time to time, but rarely are the peaks exposed to a fully open section of blue sky.

We were on the trail by 12 and hiked into Badger valley, around a big ridge and up to Grand Lake.

I found this little thing on the trail, near frozen. I doubt very much that it lived much longer with the weather as cold as it was.

The view from our campsite at Grand Lake. It was not warm, and I had forgotten my polar fleece at the house... I am an (Idiot, Putz, Moron, all of the above). Take your pick. In essence, we got to camp, set up a tent, grabbed some food, and I crawled into the sleeping bag for the night. The temps were dropping quickly, and by nightfall it was hitting freezing and raincoats don't provide much insulation.

Nearly the same pic as above but in the morning when frost was covering everything. We jumped out of the tent, through on shoes, grabbed a few cliff bars and started rockin' up the mountain to Grand Pass trying to get out of the freezing shadow and into the sunlight. We warmed up quickly, and were soon shedding layers.

I like mirror images. What can I say.

I caught this just as the sun crept high enough over the peak to cast light on the flower but not melt its frost covering.

Out of the Shadow, into the shadow, out of the shadow, into the shadow. And so it went as we hiked further up the valley, ultimately to Grand Peak, the pinnacle of which is shown in the upper left of this picture.

The Olympics!! We were extremely lucky to catch such a clear view so late in the year. From the peaks up there, you just feel like... well, like the world you are from has disappeared. Grand was one of the most peaceful and secluded spots I saw this summer.

Mt. Rainier some 150 miles off in the distance. Did I mention that it was a VERY clear day?

Yes, that is me. Yes, I am wearing the "Emperor's New Clothes". FREEDOM.

(Mt. Olympus is the snow covered peak in the distance and to my left.)

Taken as we were hiking back down the valley to our camp to have breakfast.

One of my favorite pictures of the summer.

After getting back to the camp, Jeremy and I broke out the stove and boiled up some water for coffee, tea and oatmeal. We then spent the next 2 hours laying around in the sun reading, dosing, and just taking it all in.

We then broke camp and headed up a very steep switch-backed ridge up to the final ridgeline that we followed the final mile or so back to the car.

The ridgeline.

From the parking lot, a panoramic in the direction of where we had been.

I pulled off on the way down Hurricane Ridge and snapped this. That is Victoria, BC, where I met up with DK and spent my second weekend in the NW.

Jeremy had refused to eat for nearly 3 hours by the time we made it back to Port Angeles, for he did not want to spoil his raging desire for pancakes. Unfortuntely, P.A. doesn't have an IHOP, and both diners we checked weren't serving breakfast at 6PM on a Sunday. The guy at the first establishment was a real jerk about filling us in on that information, and if I recall correctly, the second woman called us sweetie and looked genuinely disappointed that she couldn't help us... We decided that the Jerk would not be getting our money and that the nice, sympathetic woman would.

It was one of the best decisions of the trip.

We each got the special: A HUGE plate PILED with delicious roast beef, mashed potatoes, corn and the softest rolls you could imagine. The meal was started off with a bowl of fresh clam chowder and finished with a bowl of Tapioca pudding. We very nearly needed to be rolled out of the restaurant. It wasn't Homeplace, but it was damn close.

The moon on the rise.

We left Port Angeles full of delicious food, well worked out from the hiking, and extremely pleased with the location, the weather... well, the whole trip in general. We immediately decided that another trip was necessary, and we marked a weekend, three weeks in the future, off for it. We didn't know it at the time, but we would find outselves backpacking in some of the most rare and beautiful weather the Pac. North West could ever provide in Mid-October... in heart of Mt. Rainier National Forest.

But more on that later...