Welcome to Conception

Piloting the Southern Star in the waters of Alaska's Inside Passage

Welcome. I find myself entering July in the next couple of days and I can already tell that Summer (as well as life in general) will fly by at unimaginable speeds. Last weekend I celebrated Eatonville's High School graduation with several friends which marked a year's passed since my own graduation. I could hardly believe it, where has that time gone? At first when I thought about it, the fact that time is fleeting bothered me but I'm making an effort to change this outlook, instead approaching the passing of time knowing that it regardless of all other factors, it will, in fact, last a lifetime. Rather than mourn it's loss, every waking moment (and then some) need to be grasped and filled with good people and good times. I hope to start taking more pictures this summer as well as keep a record of the adventures I go on. This is more for me than for you to be honest but feel free to follow along.

A Rainy Trek to Silver Falls

With Amanda's recently landed job manning the visitor centers' desks in Mt. Rainier NP as well as an end-of-school, happy birthday hike promised to Alicia, it was about time to get up to the mountain with them and head out on a hike. 

The gorgeous Ohanapecosh River

Here in the Pacific Northwest 2011 has brought us an incredibly cold and wet Spring as far as springs go. It took a good 5 months into the year to break the 70 degree barrier. Combined with some cumulative 900 plus inches of snow fall at Paradise means that we are looking at ten to fifteen feet of snow in much of the park. Anything above about 4000 feet is just swamped in snow, great for skiing or snowshoeing but don't go looking for wild flowers, or the ground for that matter. This is where Ohanapecosh comes in. At about 1900 feet in elevation, Ohana melts out early and with the snow up higher melting, the Ohanapecosh river is really raging late Spring, early Summer.

This Saturday was the high school graduation, marking one year that I have been all gradumacated (hard to believe, I know), as well as Amanda's only overlap with my days off. Minimal weather cooperation (meaning some of the hardest rain I've seen) combined with the aforementioned 10 plus feet of snow meant that Ohanapecosh was an ideal place to hit the trails. It is not vista dependent, mostly in the woods and snow free this time of year. 

It's an awfully long way down. If I had been with boys I would have spit. JK, I spit anyways. 

A stop along Stevens Canyon at Box Canyon got the three of us thoroughly soaked. Probably more wet than if we had made the 180 foot descent down and been dunked in the Cowlitz, though the canyon itself never fails to amaze. Puts time in perspective. The deep canyon, a result of a godly number of years of river erosion through stone and the broader valley ground to a smooth, rolling, moss covered surface by glaciers long since retreated. 

After a poking our heads in to the visitor center to say hi and get trail conditions/suggestions, the truck was left in the campground and the destination was set for Grove of the Patriarchs via Silver Falls, heading up on one side of the river and crossing over to the other for the return trip.  A reasonable five miles meant that we could get Amanda and Alicia back in time for their sister's (Danielle's) graduation. Probably don't want to be late for that. The Red Cedar and Doug Fir forest provided excellent protection from the torrential downpour as we hiked along the river. More water than I have ever seen was rolling over the impressive Silver Falls. Silver Falls has no elevation on Comet Falls but the sheer volume and the pure power displayed by the water falls was impressive. On top of that the enveloping roar combined with a cool mist (though hard to feel in the downpour) provided a sensory enveloping experience. 

We crossed the river before the falls and continued on upstream (remember, we had a graduation to catch). The trail backtracks where we had driven, crossing Steven's Canyon about a quarter mile past the entrance station. Switching from the Silver Falls Loop Trail, we got on the East Side Trail headed for the Grove of the Patriarchs cut off. 

The Grove of the Patriarchs is a stand of massive giants. Cedars, firs, and hemlocks tower over the trail, leaving an open understory giving an indoor-like feeling to the walk. The girth of the larger trees exceeding that of cars. To get there a rockin', single person extension bridge leads hikers across the Ohanapecosh River. A park service sign recommends one person on the bridge at a time, though it has enough give to simulate a substantial earthquake with a couple good jumps.  

The suspension bridge, allowing access to The Grove

The sun, somehow busting through the cloud cover, shone through the leafy ceiling, layers of evergreen branches and mats of Big Leaf Maple leaves, creating a very lush and fresh surrounding among the silent giants standing tall. Between the luscious vegetation and the the seasoned glass color of the Ohana River, the day provided refreshing, organic immersion, reminding us that nature never ceases to provide a beautiful environment beyond our own creativity and dreams.

Looking up from beneath the surface of the Ohanapecosh River

God has cared for these trees, saved them from drought, disease, avalanches, and a thousand tempests and floods. But he cannot save them from fools. 

-John Muir

Mt. Baker Expedition: June 4-5 2011

Hangin' on Mt. Baker, just chillin' in my puffy

As well as keeping this blog up to date, I'd like to also add some past adventures that predate the creation of AWitF. The most recent is my Mt. Baker Climb. I recently finished my freshmen Year at Western Washington University, Planted right in Bellingham, Washington (Think top, left corner of the continental United States). The first weekend in June fell right between finals and dead week and Western's Outdoor Center  was leading a trip up our local member of the North Cascades Range. Finals schminals, I wanted to end the school year with a metaphorical bang and I signed up. I'm not sure about anywhere else but western Washington's spring has been terrible. The trip the week before our had been canceled due to weather, and I wouldn't have been surprised if ours was preemptively canceled as well. As it turns out this was not the case and we really could not have gotten more lucky with the weather and conditions on the Mountain. 

Mt. Baker

Mt. Baker is a stratovolcano, located due East of Bellingham. Our drive to the trail head (where snow on the road prevented us from continuing on) took about an hour. It is the third tallest peak in the state of Washington and is glaciated and volcanically active. Grant Peak marks the highest point on Mt. Baker, with an elevation of 10,781 feet.  

Caloric Total: Way too many

Heading up Marmot Creek

With two days of climbing, I was planning on burning a lot of calories. Make note of the Caramel Bugles, the salty, sweet indulgence waiting for us in the car. Western's Outdoor Center lead a very solid, well planned, well executed trip. With an emphasis on safety and education on alpine, glacier travel. They did an excellent job and provided all the required technical gear including ice axes, helmets, harnesses, ropes, tents, and crampons and packs, bags, and mats were made available if necessary. David, Spencer, and Adam were our guides, all Western graduates with alpine experience and multiple Baker summits. We took the Deming-Coleman Route, heading up the Marmot Creek valley, getting up on the toe of the Coleman Glacier. Camp was promptly set up after our patch of glacier was deemed crevasse-free. A rockin' snow kitchen was set up for Thanksgiving Dinner (a mixture of instant mashed potatoes, instant stuffing, instant gravy, canned chicken and topped with craisins) while we were put through Snow School. Snow School involved proper use of the ice ax, self arresting maneuvers, and traveling in rope teams. 

Gourmet Snow Kitchen w/ Guides/ Cooks

Think Thanksgiving leftovers, blended together

A rather early start

Summit day had a 1:30 A.M. start. The snow is harder when it is still cold and frozen from the night, helping prevent postholing, and the sooner you can get up the sooner you can get down. Remember, I did have finals at 10:30 the next day (granted, it was a geology final and if you ask me, hiking on a glacier counts as studying). We headed up, headlamps bobbing as started climbing. Beyond camp, we were roped up and we remained that way the entire time until we reached the summit as a safety precaution. intermittent breaks, including snacks, water, peeing and, ahem, blue bag usage, thirty feet remained between the members of each three-man rope team.  

Atop the Roman Wall

We reached the summit at 7:30 in the morning, after watching the stars and moon transition into the sunrise and then full on daytime. It took four hours from camp to reach the summit. By 4:30 in the morning, our eyes had adjusted and I was warm enough, I was traveling without a headlamp in a tee shirt. The summit provided a spectacular, 360 degree view of classic Pac NW landscape. Mt. Shucksun's jagged peak the closest. Rainier and Adams also little (though Rainier was almost unrecognizable to me, I'm used to it being a lot bigger). Looking down was Baker Lake and Bellingham as well as some other civilized areas.  

The truth of the matter is, climbing up I found myself asking, "Why the hell am I doing this?" with  fatigue infecting my thighs and calves and seeming to hop in my blood stream, spreading to the rest of my body and even on the summit, whether it was due to altitude, sleep deprivation, or fatigue, I was irritable, cold, tired, and all around irked, but I think that this is all part of the experience. In Buddhism, suffering is integral to happiness. The contrast must exist for each component to. And so as I suffered, it paid off. Watching the sun rise at 5:00 over the ridge on the way up, looking out in every direction, seeing for hundreds of miles, the the sweet crunch of those Caramel Bugels, rolling back to campus in the OC's van made every painful step, every phlemy cough, and every bulbous blister worth it in the long run. 

Sunset over the tents, night before summit day