The Enchanted Valley

This is the third post describing my hiking adventure with my brother, Ryan, in the Olympic National Park last summer (June 2015).  The first post described my first day in Seattle, and the second post described my first day of hiking toward the Enchanted Valley.  The current post describes my second day in the backcountry, when we made it to the Enchanted Valley.  

After a deep, unbroken sleep in the backcountry, we awoke a little after 7 am to the sun beginning to warm our tent.  We each crawled out of Big Agnes from our own personal door, our feet sinking in to the cool gray sand.  It didn't take us long to get busy doing some camp chores.

Ryan used the single camp stove to brew us some coffee. He has an adorable little percolator coffee contraption that is made out of some sort of metal that is entirely too heavy, but my brother isn't bothered by the extra weight in his pack.  After the coffee was brewed, he put on a pot of steel-cut oatmeal, loaded up with plump organic raisins and a scoop of brown sugar.  

This is our little cooking area in the morning light.  You can see the two-piece coffee pot with a black handle, sitting on the rock, to the left of the red fuel canister.

Our boots, warming and drying in the sunshine.  In the background you can see me down in the creek.

While he tended to breakfast, I sat on a stone in the creek and pumped water through the filter.  The sun warmed my back while the water rushed by my feet.  As Ryan had shown me, I faced downstream so that I could pump the water from a small clear pool rather than the stirred-up rapids.  We had vessels for carrying almost 10 liters of water, and we decided to fill them all up for our big day of exploring so that we wouldn't have to pump water again for awhile.  It takes awhile to pump 10 liters of water.  I still wasn't done when Ryan brought my coffee and oatmeal to the creek, so I asked him to take some photos of me pumping water, so that I could show my kids how it was done.

Here I am in Pyrites Creek, pumping creek water through a filter to make it potable.

This is the end of the tube, resting in a clear pool of water with very few visible particulates.

The thing with the red top is the pump + filter.  You work the handle up and down, sucking water out of the creek through the tube and into a water storage vessel (shown here in green + duct tape).

And that concludes the water filtering lesson because that is when Ryan fell into Pyrites Creek and broke my camera.  Since I did not bring my cell phone into the backcountry, I did not have further means for taking photographs.  Ryan had his phone, but it was less than 20% charged so we had to use it sparingly.  Thus, I have no further photos of this day (unless my brother supplies them to me...).  

We left our tent and the majority of our supplies at Pyrites Creek, just carrying water and snacks for a day hike into the Enchanted Valley.  It was about 3 miles from camp to the valley, and the forest looked much like it had yesterday but with more meadows.  The meadows were remarkably dry and a bit brown from what had been one of the hottest and driest Junes on record.  The trees, however, did not disappoint:  tall, wide, old, and fragrant.

After a quick little hike we came upon the entrance to the Valley.  It was marked by a tall wooden gate across the trail, unconnected to a fence or any further barrier.  We opened the gate to pass, and dutifully closed it behind ourselves despite its unclear purpose.  We crossed the creek on a huge log that had been carved into a bridge, with a handrail on only the left side.  The other side of the log was completely open to the water tumbling over rocks at least a story below us.  This was the most exciting creek crossing and my favorite one of the trip.  The day was warming up considerably, and I was a bit hot from the hike, so it felt good to cool off in the moist air above the creek.

Around another bend or three we had views of the chalet in the valley that is on all of the photos and postcards.

From google images of the Enchanted Valley

Unfortunately, the Valley looked nothing like this on my Valley day.  It was hotter than a dickens and dry as a bone.  Most of the greens were browns, and all of the breathtaking waterfalls were dried up save for a tiny trickle of white over there, maybe, or it could have been a long white rock.  The good news is that the hot and dry version of the Enchanted Valley was still beautiful in its own special way, with its majestic trees and broad meadows.  We hiked maybe a half-mile past the chalet, and considered hiking up to the pass, but I was threatening to get overheated.  After exploring the valley for a little while and munching on some lunch, we decided to head back to camp.

We made it to camp by 2pm, and I was HOT.  I was trembling as I raced to remove my boots, put on shorts and a t-shirt, and throw myself into Pyrites Creek to cool off.  The water took my breath away and quickly brought down my core temperature.  The water was too cold to stay submerged for long, so we alternated swimming and sunning for about an hour.

Now it was only 3pm, and this presented a problem.  It was far too early to start the evening and dinner routines, but we had already achieved our Enchanted Valley goals.  What should we do with our afternoon?  After weighing our options, we decided to break camp and hike out to O'Neil's camp.  O'Neil's was three miles from our current location, and 1/3 of the way back to the car.  This was therefore a reasonable plan to give us an activity for the rest of our day, and also to put us closer to the car for our hike out of the woods on the next day.  It didn't take us long to pack up and hit the trail.

We were less than a mile from O'Neil's camp when it happened.  We saw a bear!  We may have even seen two bears. The bear was working on a project in the middle of the trail about 30 yards in front of us.  It was perched on a little dirt mound alongside the trail, tearing strips of wood from a stump.  Our view was poor due to trees blocking our view, and the bear kept re-positioning, so it was unclear if the bear was working alone or if it had a cub working with it, too.  We backed up, way up, so that we could still hear and see the bear but felt more comfortable with the distance.  We kept talking to each other so that the bear knew where we were.  We considered returning to Pyrites Creek, but I was tired.  I had walked 6 miles to and from the Enchanted Valley, plus another 3 miles to this here bear.  I was not in the mood to add mileage to both today and tomorrow's hikes out of fear of a bear.  We alternated moments of waiting and retreating, waiting and retreating, until we unanimously decided to walk around the bear.

The trail containing the bear happened to be at a location favorable for circumnavigation.  The mountain gently sloped on either side of the trail, and we knew that the trail was heading down and to the left.  So, we went off-trail and cut across the mountain down and to the left, with Ryan leading the way.  The ground was so littered with evergreen needles, sticks, and logs in various stages of decay that it didn't even seem like I was walking on earth anymore.  Instead I was sprint-hiking across the springy ground, trying to keep up with Ryan as he navigated us to the trail as far away from the bear as reasonable.   All the while we tried to talk to each other so that the bear knew where we were, but in a situation like that it's hard to think of things to say.  I ended up singing Dory's song from Finding Nemo, "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming."

Eventually we reunited with the trail.  I wanted to run down the trail, to improve the distance between me and the bear or bears, but I had to settle for speed-hiking due to my pack and the fatigue.  As I settled down from the bear scare I realized that walking around the bear was a metaphor for a lot of challenges that I've had in this life.  I couldn't move the bear, and retreating wasn't a good option, so I had to find a way to proceed with the bear.  I kept walking, and I walked around the bear.  I didn't let the bear interfere with my plans.  Luckily my brother was a good partner for this decision, as he has been for so many of my difficult decisions.

Shortly after the bear we arrived at O’Neil’s and set up camp.  This campsite was nestled in the woods a bit more, but nonetheless had excellent creek access.  We placed Big Agnes under a tree and next to a fallen log, then began our evening routines of cooking and water-pumping.  This night's feast was bowtie pesto pasta with goat cheese and sundried tomatoes.  I'm telling you, you've never tasted food so good as that prepared by my brother in the backcountry.

Unlike Pyrites Creek, this campsite had an established privy.  I felt obligated to use the privy despite my proficiency at peeing in the woods, in part because there was another tenter nearby.  Unfortunately, the privy was super creepy to get to.  It was easily 200 steps from camp (judging by the step data below) at the end of a narrow trail through thick green underbrush that was as tall as I am.  Thus, going to the bathroom was an exercise in bravery, particularly after seeing a bear so near to the camp.  I ended up singing loudly to myself for each step of the harrowing journey to the privy, until I could lock myself inside.  I'd start singing again right before I unlocked the door.  This time my song of choice was the Beatles', "Hey Jude", but I always replace "Jude" with "June" because that is my niece's name.  If my rendition of "Hey June" didn't scare the bears away, nothing would--Nah, nah nah, nah-nah nah nah.

After dinner and chores we headed down to the creek to relax.  I thought it'd be nice to stay up a little later than the night before to see some stars.  We found some ideally shaped stones and fashioned them into recliners in the creek.  We kept our bodies dry on the stones while the water trekked downstream.  We had great conversations, my brother and I.  We discovered that we live by some of the same rules.  My number one rule is: optimize.  Ryan’s rule #1 of the backcountry is:  don’t make a decision until you have to.  Rule #2, for both of us:  feels better when you earn it.

Sometime after 10pm it still wasn't very dark and we could only see four stars.  We realized that it was high summer in the Pacific Northwest, so it wouldn't get truly dark until much later.  We said goodnight to the creek, goodnight to our recliners, and turned in to Big Agnes.

Day 2. 28,802 steps. I think the bear scare is represented by the shortest orange bar between 4 and 6 pm.

   

Pyrites Creek

Ryan parked the car at Grave's Creek right next to his vehicle's twin: a green Subaru Outback with Washington plates.  I put on my SmartWool socks, carefully laced up my hiking boots, and settled into my pack.  At this moment when embarking on a journey, I often feel a moment's hesitation:  Did I pack enough socks?  Will the kids be okay while I'm gone?  Did I stow my keys where I'll find them again but not lose them along the way?  This time, however, was different.  This time there was no hesitation.  I knew that I had everything I needed:  my boots, my brother, and the woods.  Nothing else mattered.

Our boots crunched on the gravel behind the row of cars, then stomped over a wooden footbridge into the woods.  Into the woods.

This was the first of many creek crossings.

The path was fairly wide for the first two miles.  Too narrow for two people to walk together, but wide enough to pass oncoming hikers without difficulty.  The first two miles see many day-hikers of folks who hike in to Pony Ridge.  Pony Ridge is a beautiful place where the river has cut through the rock and a large wooden bridge carries the trail over it.  We didn't linger with the day-hikers, though.  We plunged ahead, eager to keep pounding the trail.

Soon after Pony Ridge, the trail became more narrow and less traveled.  Ryan and I spread out a little bit, each lost in our own thoughts.  We were always in each others' sight, but sometimes you don't need to talk in order to enjoy the company of another human.  Especially on the trail.  The rhythm of my own footsteps on the remote soil sent me into a meditative state.  My mind quit chewing on the various problems that had inhabited it for weeks.  I released the problems into Mother Nature's capable hands.  I just walked.

My two feet, carrying me over.

This odd little ptarmigan was hiking alongside us at one point.  I could have picked it up!  

That's a big tree!

 We reached the first backcountry campsite 6 miles from the start.  Ryan and I were both feeling great, so we decided to go another 3 miles to the next campsite at Pyrite's Creek.  I didn't know for sure if I could make it, but I thought I could.  So I did.  When we got there, Ryan gave me a big hug and said that I killed it.  I know I did.  I knew I could.  We arrived at 6:07, and his projected arrival time was 6:30.  We beat his projection by 23 minutes!  I felt rather accomplished.

I also felt rather spent.  After all, I had just hiked 9 miles, mostly uphill, with a pack.  I sat on the sandy bank while he set up the tent and filtered some water.  Soon I was feeling refreshed and able to participate in camp life.  

Ryan filtering some water for us at Pyrites Creek

Our tent, Big Agnes, at Pyrites Creek

This is most of our food in the bear can, with a view of our campsite on the banks of Pyrites Creek.

Ryan made haystacks (deconstructed tacos) for dinner.  Best meal I've ever had! 

We took shots of Herdez salsa from a can to avoid spilling any on the ground and attracting vermin.  Pass the Herdez!

After dinner we were both ready for bed, so we turned into Big Agnes.  It was still light out.  I was asleep by 8:30.

Ryan's girlfriend, A, loaned me her FitBit for our hiking trip.  Afterwards she hooked me up with the data, which shows how intense this first day of hiking was.  I walked 24,935 steps that day.  And I loved every one of them.

Pre-Olympics in Seattle

I arrived in Seattle to one of the hottest and driest Junes the area had ever seen.  My brother and his girlfriend, A, took me out for brunch at a cute neighborhood crepe place.  The coffee was remarkable, and the atmosphere was sweltering.  Few establishments in Seattle have air conditioning, and this restaurant was no exception.  We were sweaty by the time we finished our breakfast.  

Then I set up a temporary camp at their new house while we prepared our supplies for the hike.  I don't know what I enjoyed most:  organizing my clothes and personal items in my pack, or spending time with my little brother in his home.  It's very special to be with someone you love in the place that makes them the most happy.

We went for a walk in the neighborhood for a beer and some supplies.  He had been putting off buying a new tent for awhile, so I was glad to be a catalyst to improve his backpacking supplies.  We went into a local store and he found a Big Agnes-brand 3-person tent.  I referred to the tent as Big Agnes for the duration of our trip.  How could I not?  It's called Big Agnes.  

We walked past a farmer's market that was packing up, and a farmer at one of the stands asked us if we'd like some raspberries.  I said thank you, I'd love some, and he handed me an entire flat of raspberries!  We carried the berries with us to King's pub  where the bartender used them to make us a custom raspberry margarita.  These things only happen on vacation!

Ryan, A., and me at King's pub

Back at Ryan's house he packed our food in bear-proof containers before stuffing it into his pack.  Always a gentleman, he didn't allow me to pack any of our mutual food or equipment in my backpack.  I only packed my own water and supplies.  While he tended to the food, I made us a pre-hike raspberry pie, because that's what you do when you're given a flat of raspberries the night before heading into the backcountry.  You bake them into a pie.

Fortunately I was pretty worn out from my long day of flying, planning, walking, and packing, so I was ready to turn into my cozy bed despite my high level of excitement.  A. had made the guest room very welcoming for me, with chocolate bars, water bottles, and Tim's chips displayed on the nightstand.  I rearranged the decorative pillows to make room for my head, read a few chapters of The Invention of Wings, then snuggled in for the night.

I awoke to the soft morning light of Seattle slanting through the wooden blinds.  This is the day, I thought.  It has finally arrived.  I am going hiking in the Olympic Mountains.

Ryan scrambled some eggs with peppers, mushrooms, onions, tomatoes, olives, and cheese.  I ate at their kitchen table, admiring the fine details of their newly updated kitchen:  butcher block table top, self-installed beer tap, tiled backsplash, a potted orchid blooming over the table.  The chickens made their morning clucking noises behind me in the yard.  I could have stayed there all day but I lingered only for a moment; it was time to finalize our packs and hop in the car.

Ryan and his friends have a tradition that on their way out of town to go backpacking they top at their favorite bakery for some treats.  Who was I to stand in the way of tradition?  The bakery was well-stocked with all sorts of goodies and smells.  It was very hard to choose.  I fell back on an old favorite, a croissant, because I love croissants and it is fun to be in search of the world's finest croissant.  I also got a chocolate macaroon that was incredible.  But Ryan hit the pastry jackpot by trying something new:  a chocolate bismark.  Neither of us were familiar with bismarks, but now we can't go back.  It had a flaky and savory exterior, a custard-filled interior, and a light coating of chocolate icing.  It was the best pastry I've ever had.  

Then we were off!  Driving south out of Seattle, west through Olympia, and north up the peninsula.  The excitement was building with every mile.  At 11:30 we pulled into the Ranger's station at Lake Quinault to get our backcountry pass.  The ranger gave us a bit of info about bear sightings, camping in the backcountry, and the weather.  In minutes we were driving down a winding gravel road to park the car at Graves Creek.  

Here we go!