Getting Out(doors) While the Getting's Good

I don't think "fabulous" is too strong in describing the summer we have enjoyed this year in the Pacific Northwest.  The weather turned summer-y (by our admittedly meager standards) early in July and stayed that way, while our expectations are typically to be blessed with some decent but short spells of take-off-your-sweatclothes weather in July and "real summer" to finally show up in August, when many of us are already rummaging through the long-sleeved garb and fleece and obsessing about how soon Labor Day will be smiting us.

So it is a bit ironic that while I had some great time off of work early on, including a terrific four-generation trip to Maui in late June as well as an enjoyable though brief Whidbey Island/Olympic Peninsula road circuit for two in August, it was not until October that I found time for a bit of real hiking.  I have enjoyed late-season hiking before, both day hikes and overnights, but the shortness of the days, lower temperatures, and unsettled weather tend to make this season a bit dicey and problematic.  My climbing notes even record a summit in November.  But my integrated sense of October hiking involves mostly halcyon days with wonderful foliage and brisk air, followed promptly by shivery rushed fumbling to accelerate or forego our usually languorous dinner-prep, curse one or more deficiencies in meeting the "extra clothing" component of the famous "Ten Essentials," and get the hell into that sleeping bag before the feet go numb.



With that in mind, Marshall and I set out on Saturday, Oct. 5, on a program that focused on exploiting his van, equipped with nice thick foam pads and obviously bomb-proof in terms of weather.  This was our base camp for a moderate ~8-mile RT day hike to a reputedly terrific view spot north of Mts. Baker and Shuksan and just a few miles south of the Canadian border in the western North Cascades.  We suspected the major early-season storm that had blown through  a week earlier had probably left remnant snow of unknown extent on the upper portions of this hike, which we hoped to extend to the top of the Butte at 6,100'+.  At least one of the trip descriptions I ran across raved about the attractions of this hike in October, the Fall color, the solitude, etc.  Dashes of salt or even saltpeter are often in my experience warranted in making use of guidebooks.

This plan gave us the luxury of exploring and data-collecting on Saturday afternoon, our choice being to drive to the end of the Mt. Baker highway.  On the way we visited Nooksack Falls, a great scene.  At the closed Mt. Baker road end we parked and walked a mile or two in increasing snow, accompanied by snow-boarders impatient for the season to begin.  We eventually got to the point where we were post-holing at times to our knees and concluded we should save some leg-muscle for the morrow and some daylight for fixing dinner.

Once ensconced at the trailhead, we did savor a bit of that advertised Fall color, though as it happened the view from our car-camp and subsequently on the lower trail was as good as it got.  The numbers of vehicles even when we arrived suggested we were not going to be alone.  Most of these vehicles left, but there were other overnight road-campers besides us (hunters?), and I heard at least two vehicles come through in the wee hours.  While we breakfasted at least 15 drove by us.  This would be a bit discouraging even in mid-Summer.



Snow on the route was indeed a factor, beginning to appear after the first hour or so, and that recent storm seemed to have wiped out not just the famous huckleberries but also much of the leaf color.  By the time we were half-way up in terms of trail-miles, much of our walking was on snow or snow-impacted (i.e., very muddy) trail.

It was great to be only shouldering a day-pack.  And hiking sticks were increasingly handy as we got higher and the snow became more and more of a factor in the hike.

It was disconcerting to encounter on our way in a pair of descending hunters in camo conspicuously bearing rifles.  Even more troubling was more of the same when we were coming out, deer-hunters working from what as it happened was a very popular trail even this late in the season.  Solitude - phooey!  There were an amazing number of folks on this trail, with predictably varying indications of good sense or readiness.  In hindsight the papa with two young sons in sneakers who was reversing course a half-mile or so above where the trail became steadily snowy/wet/muddy seemed a paragon.

As for us, we slogged on.  I had some misgivings at meadow level 500' or so below the summit, concerned about the limits of my current walking-heavy exercise regime.  But I knew we had more in us.  While this would have normally been a moderate hike, given the late-season snow we were very satisfied to soldier our way to the top.

This bail-out must-save hike was Very Satisfactory, as Nero Wolfe might have it, not that he would have had anything to do with any aspect of this project.