We decided to backpack on the PCT near Chinook Pass, east of Mount Rainier, by first hiking south through steep snow toward Dewey Lake, then giving up and hiking north toward Sheep Lake. The plan was to determine whether Vicki’s recent fatigue issue had resolved itself over the previous week. A test hike, so to speak.
After visiting Stehekin on Lake Chelan via ferry, we headed south to White Pass, on Highway 2. We spent the night at the Leech Lake Campground, which we visited once before. This is another spot where the PCT crosses a major road. It was still too early in the season to meet any thru-hikers. Our plan was to get our gear ready for an overnight trip the following day. As we were right next to a lake, we had to apply plenty of DEET for the mosquitos, but we got everything ready without issue. After a night in the back of my camperized Rav4, we headed for Chinook Pass in the morning.
We didn’t rush too much that morning, because, after all, this was a Test Hike. We headed west, then north, and entered Mount Rainier National Park. But we didn’t plan on staying there. Our goal was just over Chinook Pass, in the Wenatchee National Forest. There was a large PCT Trailhead parking lot there. We’d been there once before, and we planned on leaving the car there while we hiked.
After getting out our backpacks, we looked around. There was melting snow all over the place! It’s what we expected, but not what we wanted. So we started right away with MicroSpikes on our boots. They work quite well in crunchy snow, but not so much in the slushy stuff. We decided to find out. The good thing about the spikes was that you could wear them on dirt or snow, so patchy snow would be OK.
We locked the car and started hiking south, back toward the footbridge over Highway 410, right at the top of the pass. The flat snow we came across was well-consolidated, and very firm. No post-holing was happening. Thank goodness.
We crossed the iconic bridge and took a bunch of photos and videos. I wanted to be able to send pictures of this to friends later on. It was the end of June, and we were in snow! It was nuts, at least to people living at sea level.
We discovered the damaged trail register just beyond the bridge. I’m guessing that the heavy snows were responsible. It also wouldn’t surprise me if this happens every year. The forest service probably hadn’t even sent anyone up this way yet.
After that, the hard part started. The trail remained mostly level as it wrapped around Naches Peak, and you can just imagine what sort of slope we had to walk on. Normally, the trail builders carve a nice “bench” cut from the hillside, and the hikers walk on the flat part. But right now the bench was gone; it was buried under a continuous slope of snow. And that slope kept getting steeper and more sketchy the further we walked. Oh, we saw older tracks and footprints that showed us where other crazy people had hiked, but the usual melting action of the sun and warm temperatures softened those footprints until they were mere undulations in the slippery surface.
We were not Happy Hikers, in other words. In fact, both of us were feeling more and more uncomfortable. We didn’t come up here to risk life and limb, after all. Plus, we’re in our sixties! A fall might mean a broken bone, or worse. After one particularly chancy spot, we stopped and looked at each other. I also looked at our track on my map. We had barely even scratched the first half mile of this north-facing slope. This was no longer a test hike; it was an exercise in recklessness. If I was an immortal twenty year old, I would’ve kept going, and even now I had good balance and might have survived, but asking Vicki to do it, and then return the same way tomorrow? Absolutely not. Vicki agreed, and we turned back around. The trail failed the test, not Vicki.
When we neared the car, we took off our MicroSpikes. I got out my map, and looked at the situation. There was another small lake, Sheep Lake, only a mile and a half north of here. And, judging from what we could see, most of it was on a south-facing slope, and totally snow-free. I was already kicking myself for not trying this right away, as it made much more sense. Especially for a Test Hike. I showed Vicki the map and she agreed to give it a shot. Neither one of us wanted to quit right now. We hadn’t even begun to test Vicki’s abilities, which was the whole point of this exercise. So we started hiking once again.
The trail descended initially, while remaining high above the highway, which descended even faster. There wasn’t any snow, but it was also quite warm where we were exposed to the sun. Still, it was good hiking, and Vicki was doing fine.
Once the trail started going uphill, Vicki’s attitude changed. But this always happens. She hates the word UP. So we slowed down, and took breaks every so often. It wasn’t that bad, I thought, but nobody was asking me. Soon enough, the trail turned left and entered a forested region. Now we were back to the snow, thanks to the shadows of the trees, but at least it was only in patches, and it wasn’t dangerously steep.
At this point, we decided to take a break. I asked Vicki how she was doing. The news wasn’t good. She was feeling a total lack of energy. We decided to try a nap, which usually helps. This time it didn’t do much. We both realized that she wasn’t going to pass the test. Not today, anyway.
Meanwhile, Sheep Lake was just ahead. I suggested that maybe we could at least visit the lake, maybe without carrying our backpacks. Just to see it. And say we did it. Then we would head back to the car. Vicki said she’d try. So we walked slowly uphill toward the lake, and Vicki did her best, but at a point about a quarter mile away and one hundred feet below the lake she finally gave out. She told me to go on ahead. She’d have to be satisfied with looking at the photos later on. And that’s what I did. It turned out that there was a pretty campsite there, just above the lake. I was sad that we weren’t camping there, but that was life.
We went back and got the stashed backpacks. Vicki carried hers for a little while, at least until the trail began climbing on the way back to the car. That’s when we went back to the method we used on the PCT a few days ago. I carried both of the packs, one at a time, while Vicki slowly trudged onward. It took a while, but we eventually made it back to the car.
Both of us were totally bummed out. The Test Hike was a failure. At this point there wasn’t a whole lot we could do. All of my plans and gear choices were involved with backpacking on the PCT up here in Washington. We already visited the big parks back in 2022, and there wasn’t anything left to do that excited me. Maybe this was because I was sad. Because now, looking back, I wonder whether I couldn’t have come up with yet another plan. But at the time the only plan I had was to head back home to San Diego, to retreat and regroup.
So I booked us a room at a better motel in Cascade Locks, right on the Columbia River near the Bridge of the Gods. We didn’t really like the motel we had last time as it was too noisy. Then we drove south for several hours until we arrived.
It had been a really long day. At least we could say we gave it our best shot, even if we didn’t succeed. Just outside our window was the Bridge of the Gods, where the PCT crosses from Oregon into Washington. I asked Vicki if she wanted to cross it tomorrow morning. She liked that idea. So that was our plan as we headed for bed.
For a topographic map of the hike see my CalTopo Page
For LOTS more photos of the trek see my Flickr Page
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