So two years ago, I decided since he was full time for the Army and we were paying for daycare anyway, I would go hiking by myself. The first time, I went with my friend Karla, and we headed to Silver Star Mountain in the Gifford Pinchot National Forest. Springtime hiking is always a crapshoot when you want to hike anywhere above 2000 feet elevation, you are bound to run into snow even when the weather is clear. On Silver Star, we ran into snowfall about two miles in. Too deep to see the trail, too much snow falling to see anything else. So we turned around. We think we were about half a mile from the "summit" but it was just too risky (and what's the point of hiking to a summit if you can't see anything?). Two days later, I did Dog Mountain on the Washington side of the Columbia River Gorge. No snow, but the wind was howling and when I got to the clearing less than half a mile from the top, the wind was so strong I got blown off the trail and decided to head back for cover under the trees to eat my lunch. Too many clouds for a good view anyway.
When they say "less difficult" they don't mean "easy"
So last year, knowing that I may not get any further into a decent hike than I did before, I chose a hike that was well below the snow line, and the weather cooperated for a beautiful hike. This time it worked out.
But as I ate my lunch at the lakeshore, I heard a roar and was reminded of why extra caution must be exercised when you hike in the spring.....an avalanche occurred (safely on the other side of the water). It was mesmerizing and a powerful reminder that I was not being too cautious when choosing all of my safety gear---making my pack a little on the heavy side---better to have it and not need it.
This year, I was skunked again, not by the weather, but by the Department of Natural Resources, who hadn't gotten around yet to clearing the road I needed open today. The gate I parked at to the trail head is 7.2 miles. Tyson and I have a rule about hiking alone...never stray from the plan unless it's to turn around and come home. He's been skunked out of a couple overnight backpacking trips because of this rule, but you never want to change your plan of where to hike if you can't tell anyone else you're going to change it. Because then if you DO get in trouble, no one knows where to look. So I decided to walk down the road and see if I could even get TO the trailhead in the time that I had.
This year, I was skunked again, not by the weather, but by the Department of Natural Resources, who hadn't gotten around yet to clearing the road I needed open today. The gate I parked at to the trail head is 7.2 miles. Tyson and I have a rule about hiking alone...never stray from the plan unless it's to turn around and come home. He's been skunked out of a couple overnight backpacking trips because of this rule, but you never want to change your plan of where to hike if you can't tell anyone else you're going to change it. Because then if you DO get in trouble, no one knows where to look. So I decided to walk down the road and see if I could even get TO the trailhead in the time that I had.
If you've never paid attention while driving on one of these gravel trails the Forest Service and BLM/DNR call "roads" the scenery is not really all that exciting, usually. They are designed to get to the destination with the least hassle, which is saying something when you're cutting switchbacks into a mountainside. In any case, I got bored about 4.5 miles in, despite the magnificent waterfalls flowing over granite, and sweeping views of the mountains around Spada Lake. Walking on a road vs. a trail is also very hard on the boots and feet, something I underestimated for the distance (ow).
Nevertheless, I plan on exploring Tiger Mountain sometime later this week, rain or no rain. Despite all the difficulties this time of year, the scenery of this region is just too good to leave alone when I have time off work.
