September 5th—Klapatche Park to Devils Dream

Last night was the coldest of the hike yet. I have been very impressed by the performance of my 40-degree, 1-pound, 900-fill down Marmot Atom sleeping bag. It was almost enough to keep me comfortable, even when the temperature dropped all the way beyond freezing. We wake up to thick frost on the ground. It's thick enough, in fact, that it takes hours before it's gone.

It's so cold that I am a bit preoccupied watching the sun hit the tops of hills to the West. It slowly moves down their eastern faces toward us. Eventually, it hits the tops of the trees surrounding our tent and camp site. I grow impatient to feel its warmth, but after enduring more cold, it finally illuminates the Park, the logs, the trail, and, most importantly, me. The ground begins to thaw, I begin to thaw, and the chipmunks come out to a sunny day.

I eat my oatmeal while getting to know Stu a little bit. He's a local, from Kent, and and is finishing the Wonderland Trail. He had done half of it a few years earlier and is wrapping it up this summer. I discover that he's somewhat of a biologist, at least in his spare time, while not working in the energy industry. He can name the genus of most plants, but not their species. He's way ahead of me, in that department. Somehow, we begin to talk about the subtle difference between British English and American English and what, exactly, certain British words mean. Any word ending in "mouth" is simply the name of a city that is located on the mouth of a river. Plymouth is a city at the mouth of the river Ply, Dartmouth is a city located at the mouth of the river Dart, and so on. We continue our conversation for some time. Matt is so kind as to bring me my hot chocolate, which I slurp down pretty quickly, as the water has cooled quite a bit by this time.

Matt has been chatting with Rachel. She began hiking the Wonderland Trail the summer before with some friends, but they got deluged. She doing it alone this time around. I guess her friends had gotten wet enough for a lifetime. She's planning on being at Summerland on the 9th and so are we. We look forward to seeing a familiar face on down the trail although the conditions won't be what we expect.

Since my shoes got soaked yesterday, I'm hiking in my sandals today. It has been wonderful upon arriving at camp each day to be able to take my shoes and socks off and slip into my Tevas. However, today they're a necessity. I really don't want to hike in wet shoes. We depart Klapatche Park around 9:40 AM. It looks like it's going to be a beautiful. As long as it doesn't rain on us again.

As our water filter has performed most poorly, we are going to pursue a different route. Kerri's dad has been filtering water through a handkerchief, then treating it with Clorox. He gives us some extra bleach and we adopt the same system. We stop at St. Andrews Lake, low though it is, and fill up our four Nalgene 1-quart water bottles. Hopefully, the bleach will last us until we get to Longmire and can find an alternative system, possibly buying a new water filter at the store there. Our water now tastes like we're drinking out of a swimming pool. Although we're grateful for the Clorox, we're anxious for another solution to our problem. At least we have a way to kill bugs in the interim.

Not far down the trail, we meet a guy who comes up here with great regularity. He has just spotted an eagle and comments on how late in the season the wildflowers are sticking around. He was just at Bumbershoot yesterday and has driven up the West Side Road, then ridden his mountain bike to the trail head. He's just on a day hike.

By the time we get to the South Puyallup River, it's cloudy. There's a teasing blue patch right overhead. Other than that, just clouds. Shocking.

The South Puyallup River camp is several hundred feet off the trail. Knowing we have a long day ahead of us, we debate taking the detour. We decide to use the toilet and take a lunch break. The South Puyallup River camp toilet is an interesting one. It's literally a toilet on a small wooden platform. That's it. Good ventilation, to say the least. No problem with bugs hovering around. No protection from the rain, though. It's just off the trail, mostly hidden by a large boulder. There is a spot, however, where hikers pass by and can get a peek at your head as you're sitting there. It's probably a good idea to leave your pack (or some other such object) at the trail leading to the toilet so as to warn others of your presence. I get a good self-portrait and a view-from-the-toilet shot, but don't want to offend any viewers of this page and so you won't see those here. Sorry if you're disappointed. You'll need to be sure to check out this point of interest.

The Bumbershoot guy passes by, heading back to his bike, then back down the Westside Road to his car.

Something else you won't want to miss (really!) is the andesite formations. If you find the toilet, you won't miss the andesite. These are huge and bizarre rock formations on a cliff just across the trail. I won't pretend to know anything about it. There's a lot online you can read about it. In any event, don't skip it. It's really cool.

After a nice break, we begin heading up and up and up. I'm really looking forward to Emerald Ridge. I've heard it's beautiful and there is a great view. We are also told of all the marmots up there. Apparently, they are very active and are busy chatting with each other. They let out a constant pitch whistle. That should be fun. The problem is getting there. The trail is long and uphill. Long and downhill is easier, but that will have to wait until evening. Going up to the point of Emerald Ridge and then down the other side, the trail is covered with approximately 2 billion rocks. That number might actually not be too far off. My pack weighs around 50 pounds but feels like it's 60. I'm dragging. My usual hiking technique with regular breaks will have to get me there.

When we are nearly to the top, we meet four day hikers coming back down. We had seen them heading up when we were eating lunch back at the bottom. They're coming back down already because there's nothing to see. Well, there's stuff to see. There's just one important landmark hidden from view. Mount Rainier.

Before we're even to the point, we see marmots hanging out near the trail and hear them warning their brothers of our impending arrival. We also see British Mike reclining against a rock, binocs in hand, scoping out all the activity. Mike is with John whom we had passed about 10 minutes earlier. Mike and John are from Houston and are doing the trail in 14 days, as well, Mowich to Mowich, but clockwise. I drop my pack and run around shooting marmots for probably a half hour. Mike mosies down from his perch near a stand of trees on a small hump near the point and chats with Matt. I finish my photography and head back to the party. Mike is sure enjoying his hike, taking it all in. He heads down the trail to meet up with John. Matt and I chill.

To make a long story short, I talk Matt into hanging around for several hours in hopes that the clouds will clear so I can get a totally sweet sunset shot of some mountain that is supposed to be around here somewhere. Of course we get out the map, compass, and GPS and try to figure out where things would be were there no clouds to block our view of them. Don't know if they're really there or not.

Although I am convinced that it will clear, I come to the realization that it won't before the sun sets. We book it. We have a long way to go. Although my feet are thrashed, the rest has been good. We're going downhill. We book. Before we're halfway down the north slope of Emerald Ridge, it clears. We can see a rocky stub of a mountain poking through the trees and through the surrounding hills. I get a few low-light shots, handheld, just for proof. We continue on. Within a few minutes, it's too dark to hike over the loose rocks safely. I get out my headlamp and we continue our pace.

It's quite dark by the time we get to the towering Tahoma Creek suspension bridge. I suspect Matt minds crossing it less than he would in daylight. Although we can see the river bed, it's not as distracting as it would be in broad day light. Although I don't mind heights, the crossing is annoying. My tripod is mounted to the bottom of my backpack and protrudes off to one side quite a ways. With each cable (of which there are dozens), my tripod snags. I quickly begin to rotate my body when I come to the next one. When we cross the Carbon Glacier suspension bridge later in the hike, I will simply remove my tripod from the pack and walk across easily.

After getting to the other side, we begin the agonizing hike up the switchbacks toward Indian Henry's Hunting ground. The day has been pretty long. I'm wearing sandals. I'm fat and out of shape. This climb is a big struggle for me. I rest with great regularity. Matt is patient, as always. I drink a bunch of water. At least the weight of the water is off my back now, even if it is still on my feet. That's irrelevant. I need the hydration and that's the key. I'm miserable and I don't hesitate to point that out. Matt tolerates my complaining in silence.

Although Squaw Lake is just before Devils Dream camp, we come to a nice stream right on the trail. We're not sure how difficult it will be to get water from the lake, so we stop at the stream. It has been getting colder and colder as we climb up from Tahoma Creek. I put my expedition weight fleece on. By the time we're done filling up our water bottles after filtering the water through a hankie, we're freezing. Our hands are numb. I'm thinking about having a hot dinner and dropping my pack for the night. Heck, maybe I'll just get in my sleeping bag. I just want to get warm. We're feeling pretty miserable right now. Actually, I'm dreading getting to camp. I don't want to have to set up camp while freezing to death. Although it feels good to get the pack off for a few minutes, putting it back on is almost worse than if I had just left it on. We head out.

As we get closer to Devils Dream, the trail levels out. We're moving again and our hands and bodies have warmed back up. Up and down take effort. Level is easy. I'm feeling good. I'm feeling encouraged. It's quiet and peaceful. It's been a tough day, but it looks like it's going to end right. Am I fickle, or what? Things can change fast out here, just like the weather does.

We get to Devils Dream at 10:40 PM. I walk past the group site down to the first individual site. Matt doesn't follow me down the hill. Smart guy. Wilson and Sophia (from Ukraine) just got in, too. They got a late start from Longmire. They tell me all the sites are full. I hike back up to the group site and inform Matt. We drop our packs and get to work. It's good to be here. I don't really care that we're getting such a late start. We can sleep in tomorrow morning. We'll be here two nights. I'm looking forward to an easy day hike tomorrow.

Photos of the Hike