Quinault to Duckabush Hike 2019

To get ready for my cross-Olympics hike, I packaged all my meals and double-checked my equipment list.

On Wednesday, August 21, I began my hike with a car drop-off. Guy and I drove our cars to the Duckabush River trailhead near Brinnon. I left my car there and Guy drove me around the Olympic peninsula to the Quinault Ranger Station. I got my permit ($38, ouch!), then Guy dropped me at the Graves Creek trailhead. It was raining while drove through Aberdeen, but it eased up when I started down the trail at 3:00 pm.

At the Graves Creek trailhead

My goal for this hike was to keep my average distance at an average of 6.5 miles per day. In past hikes, I’ve become completely exhausted because I overdid it. So my first day I intended to hike to O’Neill Camp, about 6 miles. But by 6:00, I was so tired that I grabbed a campsite at around 5 miles. I finished setting up camp just before the rain began, so I was able to keep dry under the tarp. It got dark a little after 8 pm, so I crawled into my sleeping bag and listened to a short story by D.H. Lawrence, “Shades of Spring.” Before I left, I loaded a number of audiobooks and music files on my phone.

My camp under the mossy maples on the Quinault River

The next morning I sat up in my sleeping bag, did Morning Prayer and made breakfast before packing up and starting on the trail a little before 9am. This is a lovely trail that goes through numerous open glades with bigleaf maple trees dotted here and there. I tried to take a rest break every thirty minutes so I kept up my energy, and this seemed to work pretty well.Had lunch in a sunny spot by their river and dozed in the sunshine.

Clouds hover on the cliffs above Enchanted Valley

I arrived at Enchanted Valley at 3 pm. I took a good long rest, then explored the meadow and found a campsite up under the big spruce trees. I made a watercolor along the River. There were a lot of people there, probably 6 or 7 campsites occupied. A woman horse packer brought a 6-horse pack train through with supplies for the trail crew working nearby.

My camp under the big spruce trees at Enchanted Valley

Made dinner, settled in for the night, solved a New York Times crossword puzzle and listened to “The Withered Arm,” by Thomas Hardy.

The third morning, I got on the trail by 8:05. I wanted to get an early start because I had a challenging day ahead of me: a climb of 2,400 feet up Anderson Pass. I labored up the trail and made pretty good progress. By noon I was nearly to the pass, so I stopped and had lunch at a switchback in the trail. Made it to the pass at 1:35 without too much sweat. There was a crowd of six backpackers talking with the ranger. I listened for a bit, then started downhill.

Looking back at the Quinault River from the Anderson Pass trail

Reached the turnoff to the LaCrosse trail at 3:15, found a place to camp and laid out my gear. It felt so good lying there in the shade with my legs glowing inside the sleeping bag as I rested with my back against a tree. Took a brief nap and felt quite rested. Stopping at 3 pm seems about right because it gives my body enough recovery for the next day’s hiking.

Made dinner and had dessert. It was apples slices with vanilla pudding and two shortbread cookies. The best part about my desserts this trip was the pudding and shortbread cookies. Did my usual crossword puzzle, listened to the first part of “Albert,” a short story by Leo Tolstoy. Drifted off to sleep.

On the fourth day, My plan was to hike over LaCrosse Pass, a climb of about 2,000 feet, a pretty good challenge. Started off with morning prayer and breakfast, as usual. On this trip I brought ¾ cup of oatmeal for every breakfast. Turns out that’s a little too much for me, but I usually managed to get it down. In addition to the oatmeal, I bring dried blueberries, a small baggies of brown sugar, and a couple tablespoons of whole dried milk. It makes a filling and tasty breakfast.

I started up the switchbacks to LaCrosse Pass at 8:25. It was cloudy and muggy as I made my way slowly up the trail. Lots of rest breaks. After a long time, the trail broke out into alpine meadows, with beautiful views of Mount LaCrosse to the west. The clouds were moving in, catching on the tops of the peaks and shrouding them.

Fog moving in near the top of LaCrosse Pass

Got to the pass at 11:45, just before it started to rain. Put on my rain gear and the pack’s rain cover and started downhill. Found a dry place to eat lunch under some thick trees, but it was too wet and cold to rest very long. Kept going down the switchbacks, and after a half hour it quit raining so I stripped off the clammy rain gear.

There were about 30 switchbacks going down 3,000 feet. The bottoms of my feet burned and my thighs ached, even though I took many small breaks. Finally I made it to the Duckabush trail at 2:35. Took a good long break and started down the Duckabush trail. I met six teenage girls probably 14-16 years old followed by their three adult sponsors, on their way to Upper Duckabush Camp.

At the junction of the LaCrosse Pass trail

As I continued down the trail, the sun came out and made it a pleasure to walk through the dappled old-growth forest on a gentle downhill tread. After what seemed like a long time, I reached Crazy Creek Camp at 4:30, quite tired out. I’ve camped here twice before, so it felt like home. Took a rest, explored a bit, took some photos of the Crazy Creek Falls.

Crazy Creek Falls

Made Zatarain’s red beans and rice for dinner. It was pretty good but I didn’t make all I had because I wasn’t that hungry. Again did the crossword puzzle, listened to the second half of “Albert.”

The fifth morning was Sunday, so I did morning prayer using the Sunday lessons and thought about what I would preach about if I were in church. The OT lesson was Jeremiah’s call to preach. “The Lord put his word in my mouth,” he said.

Hit the trail about 8:30 because I wanted to reach Five Mile Camp, about 8 miles. After five days, I’m getting tired, and the miles seem to drag. I stopped at Ten Mile Camp at 11:10, kept going, had lunch and a short nap in a burned area down the trail.

The afternoon was a slog, but I arrived at Five Mile Camp at 3:15 and was able to take a good rest. I met a park ranger who was studying spotted owls. He had just returned from setting voice recorders in the woods. He said the barred owls re driving the spotted owls out of this valley. He had a rangy young dog on a leash and a big stash of food he’d left near the river. Made dinner, did the crossword, listened to Act One of Macbeth. There was really good voice acting in this production, and I had to listen to some Beethoven piano sonatas to get my mind off the murders in the play before slipping off to sleep.

My camp under the shelter of a huge boulder at Five Mile Camp.

I awoke feeling kind of creaky on the sixth morning. Did morning prayer, had breakfast and hit the trail by 8:15 or so. Started up the switchbacks to Big Hump. Made pretty good progress, but felt really tired. Took a break on the big rock outcropping and texted Katy. Continued on down the switchbacks t the river, then rested at the campsite by the river where I’ve camped before.

Kept slogging along and got to Little Hump by noon, when’s I stopped for lunch. My lunches consisted of wheat crackers, peanut butter in a tube, cheese, raisins, and a piece of chocolate. The wheat crackers were excellent when I began, but by the last day they were soggy. The cheese and raisins were my favorite part of lunch.

Looking out at the lower Duckabush Valley.

I came out into the trailhead parking lot at 1:15. When I dropped the car off, I forgot about the Forest Service fee for parking, so when I got back, it had two yellow tickets on the windshield. I groaned, thinking of enormous fines, but it turned out to be only two tickets for $5 each. I can handle that.

Drove to Highway 101, texted Katy that I was on my way, and drove home. Stopped at Quilcene for an ice cream cone and an Americano from the coffee hut. It felt strange driving along and listening to the same old news on the radio. Got home at 2:30, kisses Katy and took a shower. Ahhhh.

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.

Into the misty mountains: Duckabush River, July 10-13, 2015

Criag Vocelka took the Sunday Eucharist for me, so I decided to take four days to go to the headwaters of the Duckabush River in Olympic National Park. You can see a Google Map of my trip here. Forty six miles and four thousand feet elevation gain.

On Friday I drove to the trailhead on the Duckabush river and started hiking by 8:10 am. The day was cloudy but I expected it would clear off by afternoon.

By 10:40 I had panted my way to the top of Big Hump, a 900-foot gain followed by a 400 foot descent back to the river. It's a grind, but the trail is good with lots of switchbacks.

Switchbacks up Big Hump. It was burned a few years ago and there are lots of standing dead trees.

I continued up the trail, making good time. I passed Ten Mile Camp at 3:10 and decided to push on to Crazy Creek Camp, arriving at 5:20 pm. The clouds of the morning gave way to sunshine in the afternoon, brightening my mood considerably. The trail above Ten Mile Camp goes through open forest with little brush, making a pleasant walk. The trail goes steadily upward but I took lots of breaks.

Open forest above Ten Mile Camp.

This has been the driest summer on record and the river is very low. I can't imagine what it will be like in September. Still pretty, though.

Duckabush River

Saturday morning I was on the trail by 8:10, continuing up a  long sloped trail. The weather was gray with clouds hovering on the ridges above me. This is a nice section of trail.

A clump of cedars above Crazy Creek. 

At 11:15 I passed Upper Duckabush Camp. I like this camp because it has obviously been used by generations of hikers. It has multiple campsites and fire pits and has a comfortable feel to it.

Upper Duckabush Camp

I started to feel a pain in the upper part of my right foot. It was red and swollen and gave a sharp pain when I started walking after a break. The pain eased a bit as I continued walking. I'm not sure what it was.

Redness and pain in my foot.

In addition, I had a blister on my right ankle and blisters on my next-to-the smallest toes. Probably because I'm wearing a new pair of boots. Because there was mist and showers on Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, my feet were continually wet. My poor feet!

Continuing past Upper Duckabush, I started into the steep portion of the trail leading to Marmot Lake. There was a shower, then mist and occasional showers, so I was pretty wet from the waist down. The trail was very steep and I went slowly, pausing every few minutes. By 3:15 I topped out at Marmot Lake and flopped beneath a tree. I rested until 4:00 and then began scouting for a campsite. Finally found one in a copse of trees above the lake. Set up my tarp, got water, and settled in for dinner. I was really pooped.

Frankly, Marmot Lake was a disappointment. It was a shallow, crummy little lake with some ragged rocks and a few scrubby trees. The clouds were hovering around and it was wet and depressing. It felt like Lake Mordor.

My camp at Marmot Lake.

Instead of a book, I brought my mp3 player with music and an audiobook: Tortilla Flat by John Steinbeck. I found this a real pleasure. After dinner I could lay in my sleeping bag and listen to hours of storytelling about Danny and his rascally friends. On the third night I finished the seven hours of the book and fell asleep.

Sunday morning I woke up feeling much refreshed and decided to explore the upper basin. I didn't want to come this far and miss the real beauty of the high country. It was breathtaking, well worth the extra effort. The upper basin is rocky and open with a few trees climbing the high walls above. Lake Lacrosse is a green gem set in the upper basin with meadows leading down to the water. I spent some time exploring and taking photos.

 Lake Lacrosse

The mist hovered above the lake but occasionally lifted to show the ridgetops. If you go to the Olympics, you gotta expect some moisture.

I could look across the valley to see the glaciers on the side of Mt. Duckabush.

I hiked a side trail that came around a corner and revealed beautiful Heart Lake in a rocky bowl.

Looking back down the Duckabush Valley.

From that point on, it was all downhill back to the trailhead, twenty three miles of trail to get home. I started down at 10:45 , had lunch at Upper Duckabush Camp, and continued to Ten Mile Camp.

On of my favorite places in the Olympics is the stretch just below Upper Duckabush. It's a flat area with huge trees and almost no brush, like walking through a park.

I continued walking although I was tired, wet and my feet hurt. Arrived at Ten Mile Camp at 5:20 after a nine and a half hour day and 13.9 miles.

Ten Mile Camp.

Monday I hiked the ten miles back to the trailhead. Since it was mostly downhill (except for Big Hump!) I made good time and arrived at the trailhead at by 3 pm. There were just enough showers to keep the brush wet which meant my pants and boots were continually soaked. Sure felt good to put on dry socks and shoes at the car. Katy had pot roast and hot rolls for me when I got home.

Duckabush River to Skokomish River, August 11-14, 2013

This week I decided to go up the Duckabush River valley, cross over First Divide, then go out the Skokomish River valley. I'm lucky I have an understanding wife -- Katy was generous enough to drive to the Skokomish trailhead where I left my car, then drive me to the Duckabush trailhead so I could start hiking there.

Sunday was a busy day for me. I preached and celebrated at the Eucharist on Sunday morning, then Katy and I went to see Seussical the Musical to watch two talented young girls from our congregation. Then we jumped in our cars and took off, just after 3:30.

We got to the trailhead for the Duckabush trail and shared a sandwich for dinner. At 7:05 I said goodbye to Katy and started up the trail, crossing Little Hump (about 400 feet elevation) and by 8:15 I was setting up camp by the river. I made a fire and worked on the NY Times crossword puzzle. Oh, the simple pleasures of life!

Breakfast at Two Mile Camp

I woke up late, made breakfast and was hiking by 9:00 . The first item for the day was to get over Big Hump, a thousand-foot elevation gain. The trail was nicely switchbacked and I was fresh, and in due time I was at the top.

Big Hump switchbacks

From there the trail drops back to the river and continues up the valley. The sun came out and I found myself on a well-made and well-maintained trail.

This big Douglas-fir log was cut recently by the trail crew. I smelled the cut and was transported back to the wood shop at the boatyard in Alaska, where I cut many planks from clean Doug-fir boards. I love the smell of Doug-fir, so fresh and turpentine-y.

Later in the hike, I grabbed a handful of sawdust from a fresh-cut yellow cedar log and immediately went back in time to my mother's garage, where I built a 14-foot peapod rowboat with yellow cedar planks in 1983. The smell is aromatic and pungent, just like it was when I cut those yellow cedar planks.

The Duckabush burn

I met a guy named Bike Bonomo, a volunteer with the WTA, Washington Trails Association,  and we talked awhile. He's retired and spends all his time doing trail work with the WTA. He said there are no Forest Service trail crews in the Olympic National Forest, and it's all done by volunteers. After the Duckabush fire a few years ago, the trail was closed because there were so many down trees over the trail. This spring he and his crew spent four or five trips cutting out the lower trail. After they cleared the trail to the Park boundary, the Park Service trail crew came in and finished the upper trail. I could see myself volunteering with the WTA someday.

Taking a break at Ten Mile Camp and reading the map.

By 2:10 I was at Ten Mile camp, my original goal for the day. I took a good rest and then started hiking again, hoping to find a campsite a few miles up the trail. Sure enough, I found a perfect site by the river.

Twelve-Mile Camp

In the morning I was up at 5:30 and on the trail by 7:05. It feels great to start early while the air is cool and the shadows long. By 8:30 I was at the La Crosse Pass junction where I met two Scout leaders and four scouts. I hiked on through some delightful bottom lands to Upper Duckabush Camp where there is a ford across the Duckabush. I was able to shinny across a down tree and get across the river without getting my feet wet.

At Upper Duckabush, there were three more scout leaders and three scouts, who regaled me with an account of their hike to O'Neill Pass. Now I want to go there!

At 10:00 I started up the trail to First Divide. It's steep! I took many short breaks and several long breaks as I labored up the switchbacks.

By noon I was at Home Sweet Home, a beautiful meadow underneath high ridges all around. I strolled up to the campsite and had lunch. It was warm so I laid down and took a nap. That felt good!

Rip Van Winkle

Home Sweet Home

The it was up another 500 feet elevation to get to the top of First Divide. That was exhausting, but I finally made it. Then it was all downhill.

On top of First Divide

Tarn at First Divide

I was on this trail last year with my son, Guy, and hiking it brought his memory back to me. I miss him as a hiking partner.

By 4:10 I was at Nine Stream, my goal for the day, but I still felt good so I kept on hiking down the trail to Camp Pleasant. I met a lot of people on the trail, and I reckoned there were eight people at Nine Stream Camp. 

I had a lovely walk down the trail as the shadows lengthened. Strangely enough, after a long day of hiking I still had energy to go the three miles to Camp Pleasant. The trail was level and the tread was soft, and I felt like I could hike forever.

I got to Camp Pleasant (an apt name if there ever was one), and set up camp. I was the only one there (except two women who came later and I didn't see until I was leaving in the morning).

In the morning I was on the trail by 8:05 and out to the trailhead by 11:30. It seemed a little anticlimactic to get out so early, but there I was. On the lower trail I had a chance to look at the new suspension bridge. It is a real beauty, a lovely piece of engineering.

Time: three days

Distance: 31 miles

Elevation gain: 4,000 feet