Tag Archives: Camping

Jul16

A Washington Adventure – Backpacking Flapjack Lakes

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Sunday and Monday, 19-June-2022 & 20-June-2022

It’s been a while since I’ve had an adventure like this, hasn’t it? One big adventure with a few different blog posts dedicated to it? Well… Here we go! Adventure to Seattle, solo-style!

A while back, I was granted citizenship to Austria, through an update to the Austrian Constitution allowing repatriation for descendants of those displaced by war. I compiled paperwork over six months, sent it all in, and then waited almost nine months. Then, out of the blue, I get a package in the mail – a very official package with my “Bescheid” included – my new citizenship!

Now that I have it, though, I need a passport… and the closest consulate is in Seattle. I haven’t been for a few years, and I’ve never had an opportunity to either explore the city on my own or to go backpacking in the Olympic National Forest… which happens to be right across Puget Sound from Seattle…



When I told my Manager at work that I’d be taking some time off, I got a very unexpected reply. My manager, since I don’t think I’ve discussed him before, is an older gentleman. He’s small, and fairly frail. With absolutely no offence intended, he’s not someone I’d expect to be out in the woods.

But when I mentioned that I was planning on backpacking the Olympics, his face lit up in a way that I hadn’t really seen before. He started rattling off hikes that he recommended, and our conversation ended up meandering all the way from the Olympic National Forest to his ascent of Mt. Rainier.

It’s always amazing, to me, to learn the subtle details of someone’s life that you never would have learned otherwise. The people we see, day to day, tend to become one-dimensional caricatures… “Ohh, Bob is just a guy who works in the shop, and eats PB&J every day”. It’s… unfortunate… that we tend to loose out on the rich tapestry that everyones lives actually are.

I learned that he, as a younger man, had been an accomplished outdoorsman – and mountaineer, in his own right. He regaled me with stories of glaciers and hikes… nothing too crazy, mind you, but stories that, simply put, mirrored my own surprisingly closely.


From all this, I got a target – Flapjack Lakes, from the Staircase trailhead.


I looked up the details, and planned my ascent. The trail was a normal length for me, and the elevation gain wasn’t outside my comfort range. It was high, don’t get me wrong, but it felt doable – especially with all the Physical Therapy that I’d been doing recently.

I’d planned the adventure well – I’d leave Seattle on Sunday, taking the ferry across Puget Sound, and then drive to the trailhead. It wasn’t the fastest route, by a good margin, but it was the best adventure… and you know what? That was the whole goal here – I enjoy taking the scenic route, and a ferry absolutely meets that criteria.


The ferry ride went beautifully. I had time to not only enjoy the pastries that I’d picked up from the Panama Hotel tea house, but I even had time to call my Dad and StepDad to wish them a happy fathers day! What – you expected that I should forget such an auspicious day? Never! Well… I did forget to call my friends who have kids, but… yeah. I felt bad about that, when I realized.

Anyways! To the hike!

It… Uhh… It was a hike.

You know how I usually skip the details of the hike, because it’s effectively just me stepping one foot in front of the other for seven hours?

Yeah… this was like that. But beautiful!!! I mean, I’ve lived in the Pacific Northwest for seven years now (yeah, I can barely believe it myself), but I’m always awestruck at the sheer volume of vegetation that surrounds me when I step into the woods. Don’t get me wrong – West Virginia puts up a good fight, but… Well, The Olympic National Forest is a rainforest. And Rainforests have a very high biomass concentration.


It was, simply put, beautiful.

I walked, I adored the views, and I appreciated the many waterfalls that I saw. I enjoyed the snow-capped peaks when they shone through the trees, and I loved every foot of elevation that I earned, with a 40lb pack on my back.

I camped at Flapjack Lakes, exceptionally happy and proud of my ascent. It wasn’t an easy one, to be sure, but I felt good by the time I was setting up the tent in a small clearing next to a snowfield. The lakes were clear and cold, and the nearby Sawtooth Ridge stood out against the cloudy sky. It was exquisite, exactly what I had been hoping for.


That night, I camped under the stars. I ate my dinner, drank both cocoa and apple cider (yep, I brought them both), and read my book. It was… It was. It simply was, and that was exactly what I’d been hoping for.


The next day dawned… well, it didn’t quite dawn bright. It was cloudy, but… you know, it wasn’t bad at all. It might not be bright and sunny, but it was cool, beautiful, and I didn’t need to wear sunscreen. So… you know. Win!

The hike back out was beautifully simple. I took my time, making sure to not overstress my knees or burn myself out, and stopped every hour or so for a nice rest to read more of my book. I enjoyed the scenery, sipped water, and clomped along down the trail toward the car.

Simple. And. Beautiful.



Once back to the car, I took my time unpacking. The next leg of my adventure was driving to the next campground… and I wasn’t in any rush. It wasn’t too long of a drive, either – approximately 500ft, give or take, to pull into the next parking area and pick a pull-in campsite.

Yeah… advantage to doing my second night in an established campground.

Once settled into my new campsite for the evening, I relaxed and gorged on some more freeze-dried food. Drank more cocoa, sipped more cider, and read on into the night…


A very good adventure, and an excellent escape from the day to day life.

Jun11

A rainy evening on a Glacier

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Friday and Saturday, 13-May-2022 and 14-May-2022


I love the sound of rain on a tent. It’s calm, quiet, and is the absolutely perfect backdrop to just letting my mind wander.

This last weekend, I had a little bit more time to let that mind wander than usual, thanks to a series of… unique… events with my trip. But lets not get ahead of ourselves – instead of starting in the deep middle, let’s start in the middle-middle.

The scene:
It’s pouring rain. It’s cold, low 40s, but I’m still sweating from the exertion.
My legs are tired, they’re kinda cramping, and I have a slight headache.
I’m not particularly happy, I’m frustrated, and more than a little cranky that everything seems to be so difficult.

I stop to take a break, going to lean onto my hiking poles… and they slip off the packed snow, onto the fluffier snow to the side of the trail.

I faceplant as they collapse underneath me, down into the 5ft deep snowpack. If I may brag, I’m pretty sure the string of curses that I muttered into the snow was as unique as it was curdling.


But as I levered myself up, from under the weight of my full winter pack, I reminded myself that I’m still happy to be outside. This is still better than having a broken leg, or being at work… and regardless of how frustrating it can be, I’m still feeling, which is kind of the whole point of life in the first place.

To quote a song I’ve been listening to, “This life is a ride, not a fight”.


So I rode. One step in front of the other, forward into the rain.


The day had started frustratingly, when a doctors office cancelled my appointment when I was a few minutes late… after they’d made me wait 30min the last time I was there.

Then, the rain. The weather had predicted snow, but… well, rain is precipitation too, right? Just… worse. In pretty much every way for backpacking.

The hike, as mentioned, wasn’t particularly fun… but was still at least outside and in the woods, you know?


Then, when I finished setting up my tent (and after realizing that most of my gear was wet…) I made the really fun discovery – I’d brought the wrong campstove. See, I have a few stoves for various purposes… I’d brought the fuel for my whisperlight, which is a bottle of white gas, and had accidentally brought my canister-fuel stove to go with it.

The two do not work together.

I stood back and took stock.
I had snacks – I never eat all my snacks, so I knew that they were effectively extra calories.
I had wet gear – but I’d planned on that possibility, and had more than enough contingencies to keep myself more than warm enough.
I had a tent set up – Shelter is important, in every situation.
It was 7:30 – Sunset was in an hour.

I nestled into my sleeping bag, and started snacking.


That night, I let my mind wander. I had the whole evening ahead of me, I was snuggled up in a warm sleeping bag, and I had a good book to read. I had snacks, a wine-skin, and I had the beautiful melody of rain on a tent.

It was a bright evening, with a nearly full moon illuminating my tent through the rain, so I didn’t even bother with a headlamp… the little bit of light from my kindle was more than enough to read by.

But I mostly just thought, letting my mind wander. It was exactly what I needed.



The next morning dawned bright and… wait no, it was misty and raining still.

But you know what? That’s fine. I’d gotten the evening that I needed – no distractions, no electronics (kindle’s don’t count), and no beeping buzzing alarming desperate-for-attention cell phones or video games. Just the patter of rain, the silver moonlight, and a warm Ben.

I had my breakfast snacks, armored myself in my still-wet rain gear, and packed up my gear. Took a little walk around to warm up, and then headed back down the glacier to my car, and the promise of a hot meal…

No offence to protein bars and brownie bites, but… I was looking forward to a hot meal and a cup of coffee.



P.S. – For those adventurers, or just curious kittens, who may wonder how I manage to stay warm with wet backpacking gear, in high 30s temperatures…
– Synthetic sleeping bag. It’s a big heavier than down, and bulkier, but it stays warm when wet.
– Emergency bivy sack. It’s basically just a heat-reflective blanket, but put it around the sleeping bag and it limits any more water getting in, and adds quite a bit of warmth.
– A dry set of synthetic clothes. First thing I did when getting into the tent – change out of damp / sweaty clothes and into warm dry ones.
– Chemical warmers. I never used these in New England… but I bought a whole box of them for a trip to Scotland, and never used them… so I’ve started packing them in. And ohh man are they lovely.


And, for anyone curious what sort of graffiti we get in the woods of the Pacific Northwest… or what the general opinion of the police in Oregon is, here’s a beautifully simple opinion piece, penned by a traveler of the same area I was in.

May1

Making good decisions with the snow

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Saturday, 09-Apr-2022

I spent the beginning part of the day with the Mazamas, doing snow school and practicing some of the more technical aspects of traveling on a glacier.

The second half of the day was up in the air – I hadn’t been backpacking in the snow yet this year, so the frozen fields were calling my name.

I’d packed a bag, and had all my camping gear ready for an evening out – stove, food, fuel, all the good stuff.

But… I wasn’t sure.

My foot had been hurting me the week prior, to the point that I’d actually gone to a podiatrist to make sure it wasn’t broken or anything like that. And I was tired – I’d been burning out from work pretty intensely, so was running on a partial tank. But hey – adventures help refuel me, and the foot was feeling much better. I wasn’t sold either way, which is why I packed all the gear… but didn’t lock myself into any particular course.



As the weekend went on, though, the true path revealed itself. I had an amazing time, and was feeling happy and positive. But at the same time, I was still tired. My gear was a bit wet, my phone had died, and I felt a slight headache coming on. The weather was being concerningly inconsistant too, which always worries me when I’m heading into the back country… knowing one way or the other is always easier than uncertainty – I’m fine walking into a blizzard that I know about, but an unexpected blizzard is dangerous.

All of those things combined made the decision for me.

I wanted to go backpacking. I wanted to stay outside again, to sleep in a tent and let the wilderness recharge my batteries. I wanted the stillness and serenity that only a snowfield has, and I needed the calm of watching my stove boil water for dinner.

But more than any of that, I needed to be safe and sane. I needed to make good decisions. Because, as one of my favorite quotes goes, “The mountains don’t care about you”.

For this post, I tried to find a source to credit that quote to… and to even confirm the details of the quote. I found a few options, linked below, but it seems to be a simple old-timey generalized quote. A saying that’s so ubiquitous amount the peoples who live and travel the mountains that it’s self-evident. Which is partially why I love it so much, I think…

I made a good decision on Saturday. I stayed low-key, listened to my body and to the world around me, and headed home. I had an amazing dinner, sat by the fire, and enjoyed myself. I wasn’t quite as well recharged as I may have been from an evening in the snow, but I was also uncontestably alive and unharmed – which is quite important.




Note:
A second favorite quote of mine speaks to the opposite – while “The mountains don’t care about you” urges caution, this reminds us of the criticality of being bold, “A ship at harbor is safe… but that’s not what ships were made for”

Links:
https://twitter.com/nimsdai/status/1465967127144243202?lang=en

https://paulgerald.com/paul-gerald-writings/the-mountains-dont-care/

https://proactiveoutside.wordpress.com/2014/01/11/simply-put-the-mountains-dont-care-about-you/#:~:text=Along%20with%20the%20beauty%20of,something%20we%20should%20ever%20forget.

https://quoteinvestigator.com/2013/12/09/safe-harbor/#:~:text=attributed%20to%20her%3A-,A%20ship%20in%20harbor%20is%20safe%2C%20but%20that%20is%20not,Shedd.