High Olympics Hike August 14-18, 2015

Katy drove ten hours on Friday to drop my car at Duckabush River and drive me around the Olympic Peninsula to Graves Creek Trailhead on the Quinault River. I hiked about 49 miles in five days with 4,300 feet elevation gain, right over the top of the Olympic Mountains.

Linsley Glacier from O'Neill Pass Trail

When Katy took this photo at the trailhead the first time, my camera said, "Battery Exhausted." Thinking quickly, Katy said, "I'll charge it up with my laptop." She plugged it in and half an hour later I was ready to go. She saved the day.

It was cloudy and misty as I hiked up the Quinault River. My shirt was soaked by the time I got to O'Neill Creek Camp at 6 pm.

On Saturday morning I joined the parade of hikers going to Enchanted Valley. I met three chattering young women who asked if I wanted them to take my photo at this enormous cedar rootwad. Of course!

The upper crossing of the Quinault River is this skinny footbridge high over the river. When I got to the middle, I went hand over hand, trying not to look down. The guidebook doesn't mention this!

I can see how Enchanted Valley got its name. This old chalet was built in 1930 and served as a resort lodge before WWII. It's located in a large meadow with cliffs looming above. Other hikers told me that in a normal year there are dozens of waterfalls cascading down the cliffs. It's enchanting.

I continued on and hiked up to O'Neill Pass Trail. It was a good amount of elevation gain but my legs and lungs stood up pretty well. I met several members of a trail crew who told me about torrential thundershowers the day before.  I arrived at White Creek meadow about 4 pm. This is a long meadow formed by avalanches that thunder down from the cliffs above.

Sunrise Sunday morning on West Peak above my camp in White Creek meadow.

Looking down at White Creek meadow and across to West Peak and Mt. Anderson.

Linsley Glacier is a beautiful blue-white hammock nestled under Mt. Anderson. It's visible all along the O'Neill Pass Trail that traverses for miles along the mountainside.

As the trail turns eastward, the entire Quinault Valley unfolds below. You can just barely see Lake Quinault near the horizon.

On Sunday afternoon I left the trail to hike cross-country to Lake Ben. I had to cross Upper O'Neill Basin and climb over the ridge in the center of the photo. There were some elk trails but they weren't much help. After much sweat, I made it to the ridgetop about 3 pm.

Looking down into Lake Ben Basin. This is one of the most breathtaking places I've been in the Olympics. It's a pristine glacial cirque with no evidence if humans. No boot path around the lake, no tent circles, no campfire rings, just elk tracks and a bear feeding on huckleberries high above the lake.

My camp at Lake Ben at sunrise Monday morning. I woke up in the night shivering, and got up to see a miraculous spread of stars across the sky, the Big Dipper on the northern  horizon. I could almost hear my dad pointing it out to me fifty years ago. I added my fleece sweater and spread my gore-tex parka over my legs and went back to sleep. The morning air was pure, fresh and bracing. I felt fully alive.

I sweated my way back over the ridge and re-joined the trail and soon I was at O'Neill Pass. Linsley Glacier appeared again like a recurring dream.

Looking to the South I could see the hanging glaciers on Mt. Duckabush. O'Neill Pass is the low place on the horizon.

From there it was all downhill. I hiked until late in the afternoon, down through the stands of timber as the shadows lengthened. I was so tired I stumbled and rolled my right ankle, causing some pain for the rest of the afternoon.

At five pm I arrived exhausted at Ten Mile Camp and quickly made camp.  Nearly fourteen miles that day.

The next morning I packed up and walked out the last, very long, ten miles. When I got home, Guy made a big juicy hamburger for me on the grill and Katy had fresh tomato pie with tomatoes from her garden.

I brought an audiobook on this trip; Eventide by Kent Haruf. It's about a set of characters in a small town in eastern Colorado, revolving around two bachelor brothers in their sixties who have operated a ranch together all their lives. The dialogue is lean, pitch-perfect for the dry midwestern mileu. I enjoyed it immensely, finishing on my last night.