Didn’t I say last time that I was going to keep my big yap shut? Given the choice this week of the two approaches to Indian Henry's Hunting Ground. I chose the lower mileage with more gain because, after all, we are conditioning for upcoming elevation hikes. Of all the times for TBG to listen to me…
TBGuide sharing the blame.
There are always portions of hikes we find less enjoyable than others, but almost always they are far outnumbered by the enjoyable parts. Not this time. The trail started out pleasantly, wide and level — Lover’s Lane style they call it — for about a mile. I consoled myself many times during the rest of the hike that this easy part would also be the last mile. After that, you cross a dry creek bed, which is also kind of cool, but then the party comes to an abrupt halt when it turns into a nasty uphill slog through the forest. Because it’s not old growth like a lot of the rest of Rainier’s trees, it’s not even pretty forest. There are many, many foot-high steps built into the trail, but as the volunteer to whom I’ll introduce to you later pointed out, they make those stairs for erosion control and not for ease of hiking. Being as those steps are one-fifth of my height, my knees can attest to that. More than once I had to resist the urge to just sit down and weep. I’m not kidding. If this hike hadn’t had an actual destination, I am certain we would not have continued, especially with the knowledge that coming down, as incredible as it seems, was going to be worse.
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Well, now, that doesn’t look so bad. |
There were a few redeeming aspects to the hike, like a series of meadow crossings which provided some hill-hell relief, and some grouse that flushed along the way.
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| Finally! |
After the most miserable 5.7 miles of our hiking lives to date, the cabin came into view. I tried to comfort myself with the thought that we had reached it without encountering anyone else and were set to have it to ourselves for lunch. Nope.
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Front-porch respite, perusing the log book. |
This cabin lies along the Wonderland Trail and is a resting point for through-hikers, the notes of whom I was paging through when I espied another hiker approaching. Dagnabbit! Turns out this was a lemon from which lemonade was made.
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| Volunteer! |
The interloper was a park volunteer, who not only had lots of good information on being a national park volunteer, but also had keys to the cabin! She kindly opened it up for us, a real treat since the public is almost never afforded access to these cabins unless a ranger is there, and the rangers are only there sporadically.
The volunteer also showed me where the un-signed “facilities” were located, which endeared her to me more than the tour of the cabin. We tarried at the cabin, loathe to begin the brutal descent, but the three of us departed together, us the way we’d come, she the longer, easier, smarter trail. We toyed with the idea of going that way, too, and then hitchhiking back to our car, but the uncertainty of that plan coupled with the already over-long day put the kibosh on that idea.
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| Parting shot. |
Only one more good thing:
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| Gentians! |
As I knew it would be from last week’s outing, gentian season is in full-swing, heralding the end of wildflower season. In my opinion, Mother Nature saves the best for last.
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| Wouldn’t you agree? |