About the cover photo: It took me three attempts of between 4 and 5 days each to get into the spot where this photo was taken. On the first two trips I suffered some very painful injuries. This spot is in the Baker River drainage in North Cascades National Park. Do you know the name of the mountain?

Converse hightops on my feet, I traverse the North Cascades in pursuit of my life project to walk into every high lake or pond mapped in the Skagit River watershed. The upper Skagit Valley near Marblemount, WA is my home and has been home to my family since 1888. I have come to feel that the culture of this place, like the culture of much of rural America, is misunderstood by an increasingly urban population and threatened by economic depression. I would like to share the stories of this place and the people who call it home. Through my stories and images of these mountains, my goal is to help others understand and respect both the natural resources and the people of the North Cascades.


Sunday, March 19, 2023

Summer Trips 2022 II August and September







The Trail Again 8/7/22 

 Went out to work on brushing the trail on my birthday, under heat conditions similar to the previous week-dangerous heat warning. Wanted to get an early start to beat the heat but I found my dog, Skyeball dead on the porch. All in all, the situation was not that bad. Skyeball had been declining seriously over the previous year or more and I was thinking about maybe taking her to vet for a final trip but she still seemed pretty spry and interested in things so I didn’t do that. Actually it was pretty good. She died in her sleep near her people. I had to deal with carcass though. Took her up from Rockport to Marblemount to our pet burial spot. I would try to get her buried that night. Mixed feelings. Glad she seemed to have gone in a good way but I would miss my old friend of the last 14 years. Right now I needed to hustle to get in as much work during the cool time as possible. I was sweating profusely and slightly dizzy from exertion and probably some new meds I was taking (I realized later) by the time I reached where I had left off on the trail the week before. Continued on. Only had a little bit to brush to get to the next talus slope. Crossed and started on other side. Missed a good crossing of the next stream channel so had to recut another route to a crossing. By the afternoon and the heat of the day my forearms were cramping constantly. I ignored the cramps and pushed on. It was only about 10 or 20 feet to the next talus when I finally had to give up for good. My fingers were barely functional enough to load up my pack for the trip out. The trip out was similar to the previous weekend. Painfully slow and careful through shifting, torturous, heat blasting talus slopes. I made it back to the main trail without serious cramps though. On the drive back, both hands were constantly cramping, making it hard to steer. Then, about halfway back my right thigh in the groin area suddenly and painfully cramped. The cramp was so painful that I had to pull over and try to walk it off. Took about ten minutes. One guy stopped to see if I was okay. Nice guy. Finally the cramp passed. I felt okay so I started on my way again. Then I had another cramp in the same place on my opposite leg as I crossed the bridge over the Skagit at Rockport. I stopped on the other side and it took another ten minutes to clear that cramp. Got back to Marblemount and managed to dig a hole and consign Skyeball to the earth. The carcass was still a little limp that morning so I had curled her up like she was sleeping. This made the burial process easier, I didn’t have to dig as big a hole. Two weekends later went back in and finished last little bit into the last talus slope. 

 Freezeout Lake 8/11-14/22 

 Turned down about $3000 in overtime to do this trip. Ride to and from Lightning Creek cost $300. Had looked at this route for years and always wondered what Freezeout Lake would be like. Also had half baked scheme on this trip to take an extra day and go over the top of Joker Mountain into the lake at the head of Freezeout Creek that had golden trout in it because I had messed up on my photos of the fish I caught there last year. Don’t know of too many lakes that have that subspecies in them. Hoped that goldens were what were stocked in Freezeout Lake itself and save myself the trip. Also wanted to go into Elbow Basin and a small unmapped wetland there. This would be my first serious physically challenging multi-day trip of the year. Had several other demanding trips planned but this looked like it would be the best for the break-in. Dropped plans from 5 days to 4. If I didn’t make it over Joker Mountain that would be okay for now. Pickup for water taxi was 10:30 a.m. Got up at 5:00 a.m. with plenty of time. As is typical when I have plenty of time, I frittered most of it away and was nearly late. Had forgotten that I had planned to top off the cow water at the Stump Farm before leaving. There were only three cows there so if tanks were topped off they would have plenty while I was gone. I realized time was running out as I was topping off the tanks. It was 9:30 a.m. I would still need about half an hour to get to the trailhead and then half an hour to get down to the dock. I was cutting it close. Prepped myself for the last minute details like tying on bandanna sweatband that I usually do just before hitting the trail while I was waiting for the tank to fill. Stopped filling a little before I planned to. I thought the cows would have plenty of water. Hurried up the road and at the east end of Newhalem there was a long line of cars waiting for road construction. Idiot! I had known that they were doing a lot of work on the road this summer. Funny thing, I had left work at Newhalem the day before and there was no sign of any delays at that time. There was no one to blame but myself. If I had left an hour earlier, an hour that I spent frittering around, I would have had plenty of time to make it. Was able to call Ross Lake Resort and let them know that I would possibly be a little late. They were gracious enough to let me go on another ride an hour later if need be. Jumped back in the line of traffic. Looked like the pilot car was there ready to take off in the direction I needed to go. We got moving in about 5 minutes. I wasn’t too far back in line which was good because there was less chance of getting behind someone slow. I still wanted to go at the original time if possible, one, because I hate breaking appointments and making someone else have to jump through extra hoops on my account and, two, because the lower end of the Lightning Creek Trail, the first part of my route was steep, exposed and hot. The sooner I got started, the better. I lucked out on the other side of the construction the slow person in front of me turned off. Hustled as fast as I could and got to the trailhead at a little after 10:00 a.m. Did quick check of pickup, lights off, locked etc. and hit the trail. Remembered a short cut off the main trail to the boat dock. Took that and got to dock at 10:20. Lucky enough to catch a ride to the resort where I squared up the details of paying for the trip and then on up the lake. Got started on the trail a little before 11:00 a.m. Lightning Creek Trail is funny for me. Always seem to need to stop more times than necessary. Wasn’t too hot this day, air felt fairly cool, 70’s or low 80’s F but very humid. Bathed in sweat in less than half an hour. I was sweating so much it formed pools on the backs of my hands and I could feel it running down my head, back and arms. My face was sweating below my bandanna sweatband and I occasionally had to wipe it out of my eyes. I was dealing with some serious feel like hell at the start of the trip. Legs weak and stiff and head felt light. Seemed impossible. No way I could do this. But I have done it several times before. At this point it was a matter of consigning myself to Hell, trusting that everything would work out and the trip would be worth it. Sound track in my head looping over and over again until I got tired of one song and switched to another, this trip was the Greg Kihn Band, The Breakup Song, The Naked and Famous, Runners and Miranda Lambert and Elle King, Drunk and I Don’t Wanna Go Home and probably a few others. Pushed on and got to Lightning Creek a little after 1:00 p.m. Stopped there and had lunch. Pretty nice at Lightning Creek on this trip. Last several times I had been here the mosquitoes had been relentless. This time there were very few, not enough to really note. Continued on up Three Fools Creek on the Castle Pass Trail. This was all new ground to me which often makes it seem to take longer because you can’t anticipate spots in the trail that serve as markers and, at least for me, seem to make the trip go faster. Saw that “Bink” who had been up the Anacortes Crossing Trail before me in 2020 and left his mark had been in here quite a few years running and this year too and left his mark again. Ran into a guy heading toward Lightning Creek (I’m pretty sure he wasn’t Bink). He had been over Castle Pass and I asked him about the trail. He said it was in pretty good shape. I had heard this the year before but I didn’t know if conditions had changed since then. Good to hear that the trail was still in good condition. Finally got to a spot where the trail cut down close to the creek . This was pretty close to Little Fish Shelter where I planned to stay the night before heading up the hill the next day. The plan was to rest up and get a good start up the hill before the heat of the day. I had heard that there wasn’t really a shelter at Little Fish anymore but I expected an obvious flat spot. Kept walking but nothing obvious turned up. Hit a spot where the trail started uphill. Dropped my pack and scouted out a little bit. It seemed like the trail was going to continue up the hill. So apparently I had somehow walked past the Little Fish shelter area. My shirt and pants were literally soaked through with sweat, like I had been dunked underwater and I was fairly tired. I would just find a spot to camp and continue in the morning. I was pretty close to the spot where the trail started switching back up the hill near Elbow Creek. Found a nice spot under some cedars. Had to cut a few vine maples and dead limbs but quickly had a nice spot. Ground was sand with a good layer of duff on it. This would be good sleeping. Set up camp and fished in the creek a bit. Had seen a fish in the creek near the trail earlier and I was curious what species they were. I knew that there were rainbows and Dolly Varden/bull trout in Lightning Creek. Caught several rainbows. Went back to camp, cooked dinner and turned in. Slept really well and had a really hard time getting started in the morning. I knew today would be a lot of work and that made it even harder to drag myself out of my nice soft sleeping spot. But I also wanted to get a good start up the hill before the heat of the day. Morning felt cool but I could tell that it was still really humid. Got to the spot where I thought the trail was going to start up the hill but it dropped back down to the creek. I realized my mistake and in a few minutes I was at the Little Fish Shelter site. It was an obvious, nice big flat next to the creek. There was a camp but no shelter or even sign of an old shelter. I was all right with this. The sleeping areas here didn’t look as good as where I had stayed the night before and my legs had gotten a good warm up in the morning without putting too much strain on them immediately. Had to navigate a nasty pile of windfalls recently fallen the previous winter at the spot where the trail to the camp took off. Then it was still a bit along fairly flat trail to the point where the switchbacks started. Stopped for a short rest at the third switchback up the hill. I was already sweating profusely, the sweat pooling on the backs of my hands again. I had brought an extra water jug for this stretch of the trail. On my maps I had counted something like 50 switchbacks. Originally formulated a plan to stop for a short rest every five switchbacks. This would mean about ten sets of switchbacks until I was at the top of the hill. However, it quickly became obvious that there was no way I was going to be able to do five switchbacks without rest on this trail. Had to settle for two most of the time. Sometimes I could only go one before having to take a short break. Again consigned myself to Hell and slogged away. I had to remind myself again and again that I didn’t have much to gripe about really. There was a trail after all, I wasn’t traveling off trail and the trail was in pretty good shape too. Took a long break at about switchback 36, figuring that this would be over halfway up. Another long rest at 46 where I finally emptied my first water jug and switched to the second. Clothes were soaked through again. Dove back into Hell and the soundtrack in my head and plodded on. Starting to get small glimpses of meadows through the trees here. Knew I should be pretty close to the top of the switchbacks. Maps indicated that the trail here took a steady climb about 200 feet up the hill from the top of these switchbacks. That didn’t look like a lot of fun. Turned out that there were 52 switchbacks by my count. There were a number of weird little jogs in the trail that I wasn’t sure whether to count as switchbacks or not. Not that it mattered that much other than a way for me to set goals and pass the time. The part going straight up without switchbacks wasn’t much fun either. Had to stop for breaks at least as much or more as in the switchbacks. Again, at least I had a trail. Finally got to the point where the trail leveled off a bit and was at an only slightly uphill angle. It looked like I had topped out the ridge. Now it should be sidehill until I could cut down into Freezeout Lake. Mentally I started to relax a bit. Shouldn’t be too much steep uphill and downhill from here. Finally reached a spot where the trail was actually a slight downhill. Thought I had it made. There was a saddle below a knob in the ridge just ahead. I was hoping that this would be the spot where I could look down into Freezeout Lake. If this was the spot I would still have to sidehill around one more knob to the spot where I could hopefully drop down into the lake. It wasn’t the spot. No sign of the lake. I would have to go around another couple knobs. When I got around the hill to the next saddle between knobs there was the lake all right but my heart sank. I could see the trail quite a bit higher on the next knob as it sidehilled around. More switchbacks. It wasn’t that big of a deal but it hit me when I was pretty tired and I was getting pretty low on water, having been sweating profusely for most of the day to that point. There was a nice flat spot in the shade of a lodgepole pine at the overlook into Freezeout Lake so I flopped down there for a good long rest. I could have probably pushed on but I decided I would take rest. Probably stayed there 15 minutes and dozed off a bit a time or two. Finally got up and pushed on. I was almost there. If I got myself moving I would be there soon. Four switchbacks and I was on my way around the next knob exposed in the heat of the sun. The next saddle was the cut down spot. It was really steep at the start off the ridge. One spot was loose soil and scree. The other spots I saw were mostly covered with slick forbs and heather. In my tired state of mind the 600 feet or so down into the lake was impossibly far especially with the steepness of the upper part of the ridge. Flopped down and rested a bit and dozed off a couple more times. It was about 2:00 p.m. I had been on the go since a little after 7:00 a.m. Thought I saw a bit of a trail down so headed for that. Saw where it looked like a trail of sorts off the ridge towards the lake. It wasn’t much but it would work. Assumed it led to what had looked like a more substantial trail down off the ridge. I did some quick calculations. If I stashed most of my overnight stuff, tent, cooking gear, sleeping bag etc. and pushed on with a light pack, I should be able to get into Elbow Basin, which I also wanted to get into on this trip, and back today, stay the night at Freezeout Lake and have Saturday to try the trip over Joker Mountain. I should also be able to water up at Elbow Basin. I dropped the overnight stuff and continued on the trail. About half an hour later I came to the realization that this plan wasn’t in the cards. My legs were pretty tired. I would have to drop about a thousand feet into Elbow Basin then climb back out again and try to make it back before dark to try to get into Freezeout Lake. I might have been able to do it but I didn’t want to push it. I abandoned the thought of going over Joker Mountain. I would drop into Freezeout to camp today, crawl back out the next day, Saturday with a full pack, drop my overnight stuff on top of the ridge and go into Elbow Basin and try to make it at least half way back out. Walked around ridge until I could see the unmapped pond in Elbow Basin that was my secondary goal for this trip. Took some photos of the awesome view from the ridge and headed back. Loaded my pack back up and started down what looked like a trail off the ridge towards the lake. The “trail” quickly disappeared into slick forbs and heather. The forbs were mostly lupine and valerian, two of the worst for slickness. On the steepness of the slope the heather wasn’t much better. Slipped through and ended up scootching down on my backside a bit here and there. Finally the slope moderated enough that I could stand pretty easily. From here it didn’t look like the route would be too bad. The steep ground would be a challenge on the way out but the uphill should be easier than the downhill. There were several snow patches that I had to cross. At the first one I stopped, scraped off the dirty snow and filled my water jug, which was about a quarter full, with snow. The total amount of water the snow would add to the jug wouldn’t be much but it was something and it made the liquid water already in there very cold. Had couple shots of water and continued on to the lake. Upon reaching the lake I was surprised to see a large berm 3 to 4 feet high all along the outlet side of the lake. This was about a third of the circumference of the lake. The other two-thirds of the circumference was mostly vertical banks 10 to 20 feet high dropping straight into the water. Was disappointed to see that there were lots of rocks and wood all over in the flat behind the berm. There weren’t any very good camp spots. Finally chose a spot near an old fire ring on the south side of lake, just behind the berm. I wouldn’t be a great spot to sleep that night but I have slept in much worse. Looked around for a source of water and found that the lake outlet was the only option and the initial spot I found was tough to get to being in the middle of a willow thicket. Pitched my new tent. Have gone from the convenience of a 2 person tent to a 1 person tent in an effort to save on weight. Did a walkaround of lake berm and flat behind it, looking for fish, ampibians and wetland type plants. Wind blowing constantly the whole time which was very nice for keeping me cool but made visibility into the lake very poor. Tried fishing the lake a bit and got two bites but no fish. Made my way back to my tent and crawled in to relax for a while. I was dog tired. Large cumulus clouds were rolling over just a corner of the sky that was visible to me down at the lake, surrounded as I was by ridges to the north, west and east and trees to the south. Dozed off a bit. Heard several jets fly over and started awake each time before I realized what they were. There was a slight chance of thundershowers for the day so I was on the alert a bit. Then I heard something that didn’t sound like a jet and the thought occurred to me that it was pretty close to dinnertime anyway and if I ate now, if a thunderstorm rolled over I could hide in my tent with a full belly rather than try to cook and eat in a downpour. Cooked and ate. Heard a few more jets but no more rumbles of thunder. Turned in early. Hadn’t seen any fish surface. I knew there were a few present because of the bites I had gotten earlier but apparently there weren’t too many. Either that or they just weren’t feeding. Left my pole rigged. I would try again in the morning. The bite often changes dramatically throughout the day so maybe I would have better luck in the morning. Slept better than I expected. Got an early start. Had a lot to get done that day. Wanted to get over into Elbow Basin and check that out and then wanted to get far enough out the trail that I could make it to the boat dock by 1:30 p.m. the next day. No luck fishing. The wind wasn’t as strong this morning and I saw a fish follow my lure several times but it didn’t bite and then it went away completely. Finally abandoned that effort. So much for my hopes of catching some golden trout for some better photos, if the fish here were golden trout. I wasn’t even able to find that out. Packed up and headed out. I was kind of dreading this chore. It was pretty steep uphill on the way out, especially the last several hundred feet. Had started developing a hot spot on my back where my pack had been rubbing the skin raw through my sweat sodden shirt. Stopped about halfway up and applied some moleskin. That made the situation better. Decided to try a little different route at the top. Made it through okay. Only took a little over half an hour to climb out of the hole. Dropped my overnight stuff and continued on with a lighter pack. Travel from this point should be pretty easy, didn’t look like the trail had many elevation gains or losses until I dropped about a thousand feet into Elbow Basin. Day was overcast and cool. Very nice compared to the previous two days. Lost the trail several times. Was in the high meadows but it was quite evident that the soil here moved a lot, from burrowing animals and erosion and slumping. Saw an old horseshoe that someone had propped against a rock. For quite a while on the ridge I was looking down into the pond I wanted to get to and had the thought of just dropping off the ridge and heading straight for it. I decided against this though. If I followed the trail around to the pass and dropped down from there I would have a better bead on hitting the pond and there were a few things I wanted to look at in that area anyway. There was a black square on the USGS Quad at a timberline halfway down to the pond and that often indicates a cabin or shelter and I wanted to check that out. Finally hit the pass and headed down toward the pond. It was kind of magical going down through the meadows of tall grass. The cool day made for pleasant walking and the scenery didn’t look typical for most of the western part of the North Cascades. It looked like I was in the Rockies or something. At timberline I found an old campsite that hadn’t been used in a number of years. Good water source here which is what I had expected. Continued on down toward the pond. Couldn’t see it now so would have to guess a bit from the last bearings I had on it. Thick vaccinium brush here, probably oval-leaved blueberry and black huckleberry but I didn’t look too closely or remember other than it was hard to move through. Had to navigate a couple of steep stream gullies. Lots of downed timber and some bear trails. The ground steepened quite a bit. Hadn’t expected this and wondered if I had gotten off track. Stopped and consulted the map and found that yes, there it was on the map, the ground was pretty steep the last several hundred feet before I would hit the flat where the pond sat. Shortly after checking my map I saw the flat below. Where I hit it there was a big willow thicket. Didn’t think the pond was in this area so headed a bit to my right and crossed the stream whose course I had been roughly following down to the flat. According to the map, this stream didn’t flow into the pond and the pond sat to the west of it in the direction I was heading. Found the next willow thicket. The pond would be on the other side of this thicket from me. It would be insanity to go straight through so I tried navigating around the thicket to the east but got stopped before getting too far. Backtracked and headed around the thicket to the west and then to the north. Bear trails here helped a bit and the going wasn’t bad at all. Finally I saw the pond and a nice gap in the willow thicket where I could get through to it. Dropped my pack and got out my notebook for notes and photos. As I was crossing the outlet stream of the pond I saw some movement and heard a plop. It was a frog. Hadn’t expected this but probably should have. This might be an important data point if I could get a positive I.D. of the species. Luckily the frog hadn’t moved far and was easily visible. I wanted to catch this frog in order to look it over closely so I could more positively identify it but first I took a number of photos in case I couldn’t catch it. Usually if you fail to catch a frog you don’t get another look at them. Got some good photos of hind foot which can be useful in identifying different species. Also got good photos of dorsal surface (back) and eyes which can also be useful. This frog looked like a Columbia spotted frog (Rana lutieventris) but, if I could catch it, I could get more information. Eased over within grabbing distance and eased my hand within reach. A tense moment or two before I grabbed (usually you have a micropause or two, adjusting your calculations on where to move your hand, a lot like that last few wiggles a cat does before striking). I grabbed. It felt good, I was sure I had the frog and…nothing. Missed. Looked carefully. No sign of the frog. Damn it! Well, probably had enough with the photos for a good I.D. but I was still bummed. Gathered up my stuff and continued on, taking notes and photos. About a quarter of the way around the pond there was another movement and another plop. Another frog. Same drill as before. Observation and photos first. This looked like a Columbia spotted frog too. It had jumped out into a small mud flat and was pointed toward the deeper water of the pond where I would have to just about swim to get to it, which I didn’t want to do. I found a stick and tried to get it to turn back to the shore. Sometimes this works and I have found that they are easier to catch if they are moving and you lead them a bit, rather than trying to catch them when they are sitting still, ready to jump when you move. No luck it just sat there just out of reach. I worked my way out on a small half-submerged log, not wanting to get my feet in the water and mud the depth of which I didn’t know, and tried again. No luck. I lost my balance and one foot went into the muck. It was only ankle deep. The frog was starting to move toward the deep water. If I dropped my other foot into the mud, I would be in a very good position to catch the frog. Decision time. I wanted a close look at this frog and get the data point. This was done in a split second. My other foot went into the mud and I grabbed. Got it. I swear I was just as thrilled as almost any fish I have ever caught. If I didn’t blow it and somehow lose this frog, I would be a able to get some good info., probably plenty to positively I.D. this species. This was kind of an out of the way place and the chances that someone had been here looking for amphibians was pretty small, so my observation could possibly be the sole record in existence (though later I vaguely recalled someone telling me that spotted frogs had been observed in Elbow Basin, but this didn’t diminish the thrill of the moment). I carried the frog about ten feet away from the water. That way, if I dropped it or it got away, I should be able to easily catch it again. Looked it over closely and measured it. By the markings on the abdomen, mottled red, gray and white along with the eye orientation which I had already observed, I was sure that this was a spotted frog. This species also often has distinctive large spots on its back but this one and the one I had just observed previously didn’t have any spots. Got a couple of photos and then took it over to the outlet stream and washed all the mud off it to make sure the photos would be the best they could be. Took multiple more photos, one more close look to make sure I hadn’t missed anything and I turned it loose. Continued around the pond as far as I could, I was able to get around about half of it in total, the rest was willow thicket, and headed back. Saw the frog I had just captured and it didn’t waste any time this time heading for deep water. Also saw another frog at the crossing of the outlet stream where I had seen the first one. In all likelihood it was the same frog. Sometimes that happens too. You try to catch them and miss and they will return to their original spot in a few minutes. Got a good look at this one and tried to catch it again, more data and you can see a lot more if you can observe closely, but missed again. Wasn’t too worried at this point and I needed to get moving. I still had a long way to go this day. Got headed back out at about 11:30 a.m. Slogging back up through the steep spot with the downed timber and blueberry brush I again made use of some bear trails and the thought occurred to me that very rarely do people mention sasquatch trails. I am sure that at this point someone has but it doesn’t feature prominently in any sasquatch investigator's  claims of which I am aware. Yet just about everything else that is large in the woods leaves a trail as they go about the business of attaining the resources that they need to survive. At a bare minimum, there are always spots in the landscape where travel is constrained to small area, passes, gaps through rocks, narrow areas on ridges and mountainsides where the slope is just gradual enough to allow an animal to travel through. One exception to this leaving of trails that comes readily to my mind is cats. But I wouldn’t think sasquatches which are reportedly bipedal primates would act like cats. They would act more like humans or gorillas and they would leave huge trails. I have never seen such a trail in my forty plus years of wandering around in the mountains. Got to the old camps and watered up, filling both jugs. Saw a blue grouse and 5 chicks that were still a bit downy but already had the flying thing down. Ate a couple handfuls of trail mix and then back up the hill. I would eat lunch up on the ridge at the saddle where I could first see Freezeout Lake. The sun had finally burned off most of the cloud cover and it was noticeably warmer but still nothing compared to the previous two days. On my way up several times I considered taking a short cut across the meadows and hitting the trail a little farther in the direction I was headed but ultimately stayed my course and hit the trail at the pass. It didn’t take too much extra time. Pretty nice traveling back. Lost the trail once but quickly found it again. Stopped and took a couple of panorama photos. Got back to my stashed overnight stuff and loaded my pack. I was at the pass where I planned to eat lunch at a little before 2:00 p.m. I just needed to get to a point today that I could get to Lightning Creek Boat Launch by 1:30 p.m. the next day so I took my time. The lunch spot was nice and flat and shady. Napped for a bit after lunch before hitting the trail again a little before 3:00 p.m. Lost the trail again in some raveling scree but found it again quickly. Going downhill was much quicker because I didn’t have to frequently stop to catch my breath but it wasn’t easy. A couple of my toes quickly got smashed into the ends of my shoes. I was sure I would lose the nails on those toes which hurt with every step. I quickly developed a hot spot on the inside of my left big toe. Didn’t want to stop and deal with this so just ignored it. I would get some moleskin or duct tape on it in the morning. When I hit the switchbacks I started counting to help pass the time and to keep track of how far I had traveled. A little over halfway down I forced myself to stop and rest. When I was in my early twenties I hurt my knee coming off Sourdough Mountain because, in my youthful idiot’s logic of the time, I wasn’t tired and breathing hard and downhill was easy so I didn’t need to rest even though my knee was hurting. Hit the bottom of the valley of Three Fools Creek sometime around 5:00 p.m. I figured that this would be the long haul. I wasn’t familiar with the trail, having only been over it once. I was also slowed because I stopped and sawed out the smaller trees in the trail. Finally found a spring to camp next to a little before the wilderness/recreation area boundary at about dark. This was well within the range I needed to be. Set up camp quickly and cooked and ate dinner quickly and turned in. Up pretty early, quick breakfast and headed out. At Lightning Creek Boat Dock at about 10:00 a.m. Surprisingly the mosquitoes weren’t bad. Spent my time waiting for a ride down the lake copying and finalizing my field notes. The spotted frogs were a pretty good find. Of course in reality, I probably walked by a number of things that would have been important finds if I had had the knowledge to recognize them. You can only do so much and so you take what you can. Was able get on a boat out an hour early. Pack weighed 56.1 pounds at the end of the trip, an improvement of about 9 pounds less that the packs I have carried in previous years. 

Panorama from saddle where you can first see Freezeout Lake. Hozomeen Mountain is to the left of the frame and Freezeout Lake is to the right in the bowl in the mountains. I had to follow the trail around one more knob before I could drop into the lake. 

Panorama from the trail on the way into Elbow Basin. Unfortunately this format doesn't allow a larger image. Maybe the reader can find a way to enlarge it. 

Three Fools Creek just downstream of my camping spot. 

The last knob to go around before I could drop into Freezeout Lake. The first panorama photo above was taken from the saddle just out of sight and to the left of the frame.  

On the way around the last knob on the Castle Pass Trail into the saddle above Freezeout Lake. The knob in the center of the frame is near Elbow Basin but one ridge over from the basin. 

Freezeout Lake lower right center of frame. 

Freezeout Lake from the saddle where I dropped into it. It is hard to see in this photo but the initial hundred or so feet down from this point was very steep. 

Scouting the way into Elbow Basin along the Castle Pass Trail. I turned around when I realized that I didn't time to get into Elbow Basin and back into Freezeout Lake. I went into Elbow Basin the next day. 

On the way down into Freezeout Lake. Hozomeen Mountain center left of frame. 

Looking east from the berm on the west side of Freezeout Lake. 

Berm on west side of Freezeout Lake. I hadn't expected a berm here. It is about 6 feet high. The lake outlet is on the north side of the berm. On every map I have seen, the area behind (west) of the berm, about one-third of the total area of the flat where Freezeout Lake sits, is shown as standing water. It makes one wonder if this area was under snow in the air photos they used to map this area (unlikely because they usually use photos taken during the summer at times when shadows cast by land features and trees are at a minimum), or maybe a large slide partially filled in the lake but there is also no evidence of such a slide having occurred in the less than 100 years since this area was first mapped. 

Looking southwest from the outlet of Freezeout Lake. 

On the way into Elbow Basin along the Castle Pass Trail, looking south. The unmapped pond I was going into is to the right a little out of the frame.

Heavy growth of willow in the flat in Elbow Basin where the unmapped pond sits. 

First glimpse of the pond. 

Columbia spotted frog (Rana lutieventris) in outlet stream of pond. I took a number of photos of this frog in case I was not able catch it for close observation (I wasn't). How far the webbing on the hind foot extends toward the tip of the toe can be used to identify what species of frog this is.  

Another photo of the frog pictured above from a little different angle. The eye orientation is another clue as to species, though I have heard this argued a bit. In this photo, the eyes are definitely oriented more upward than in red-legged or Cascades frogs. Dorsal spots can be used as another clue to identify from species but this one doesn't have any dorsal spots. 

Another view of the pond. 

Columbia spotted frog just prior to capture. 

Columbia spotted frog after capture showing dorsal spotting. Dorsal spotting is another feature that can help identify species. This one doesn't have any dorsal spots, which occurs fairly often.

Columbia spotted frog from another area on another day. This frog has obvious dorsal spots. I have never seen an Oregon spotted frog in the flesh so I don't know how much different, if at all, they look from Columbia spotted frogs.

Columbia spotted frog at Elbow Basin. The ventral surfaces of columbia spotted frogs are pretty distinct from red-legged and Cascades frogs. I have never seen an Oregon spotted frog in the flesh so I don't know how much different, if at all, they look from Columbia spotted frogs. I do know that it has been determined by genetics that the spotted frogs in this geographical area are Columbia spotted frogs. 

Looking east at the pond. 

Probably an eastern tailed blue (or similar) butterfly. This butterfly is obviously dead but the composition in between the sedge leaves caught my eye.

Looking north at the pond and the ridge that the trail (Castle Pass) follows. 

Looking at the unmapped Pond in Elbow Basin from the Castle Pass Trail. 

Looking south from the Castle Pass trail above Elbow Basin. 

On the way out, looking northwest from the Castle Pass Trail at Hozomeen Mountain from the saddle where Freezeout Lake is first visible. 

Same spot, photo in horizontal orientation.

Roughly the same spot as above, looking north.



Unnamed Lake Granite Creek 8/21/22 

The weekend was shot by work I needed to get done on the new house. Saturday finished (I think) brushing a trail I had been working on. Sunday went into pair of small lakes on Granite Creek just northwest of Fisher Peak. I had been into these lakes many years earlier but very late in the year, October and deer season that I thought I had probably missed some things. I had been wanting to get back in there earlier in the year so this was my chance. Got an early start but when I parked my rig I was so tired that I napped for half an hour or so. I had stayed up too late the night before working on notes and the summer haze of exhaustion had finally caught up with me. Finally bailed out of my pickup and got going. I would follow a tributary that entered Granite Creek from the south a little upstream of Swamp Creek. I figured that I had plenty of time. I had gotten in and out of these lakes in October when the days are quite a bit shorter. There were some tight contour lines along my route but I figured that I had gotten through packing a rifle along with my pack before so I should be okay. But it never pays to be overconfident. Spent about ten minutes looking for a log to walk across Granite Creek. I have waded Granite Creek many times several miles below here where it is a bit bigger so it wouldn’t be a big deal to wade it. I just wanted to see if I could get across without getting my feet wet. Finally gave up and waded. There were two logs in the vicinity of the tributary I would follow but they were laying such that they were at a steep angle pretty high above the creek, high enough that, if I fell, I would probably be hurt so I declined to chance it. The tributary I followed was quite striking in its appearance at its confluence with Granite Creek. There was quite a bit of red/pink/orange rock in Granite Creek while this color of rock was completely absent in the trib. The trib. had a lot of black and gray and blue rock in it giving it a dark look. There was a nice flat bench 20 or 30 feet above the creek channel and I ended up cutting up to that to follow the creek up. The flat was less brushy and I didn’t have to sidehill in spots where the creek cut next to the bank. Several times I ended up cutting down off the bench and then cutting back up. It always takes longer than you think and I was in heavy timber so it was hard to get bearings to tell my progress. I wasn’t worried about getting lost. All I had to do was stick to the creek and it would lead me to a tributary coming into its west side. I would follow this trib. up to the lakes. It was a major trib. so I shouldn’t miss it. The only issue I might have is if I had somehow gotten started up the wrong creek. Finally I reached a spot where an avalanche off a shoulder of Fisher Peak had crossed the creek and knocked down trees on my side of the creek. This created an opening where I could see and get my bearings. At this point I was almost to the next trib. I remembered having to navigate a tag alder patch somewhere in this area on the previous trip. Within ten minutes I was at this patch. Fortunately, this time I found a small relatively tag alder free dry stream channel that cut across the patch at a rough diagonal. It would give me relatively free travel almost to the timber on the other side of the tag alder patch. There were only a few Sitka mountain ash bushes to get through at the other side. I took good note of where this spot was. It would save me a lot of time and trouble if I could hit this spot on the way back. There was a large half rotted twin hemlock log just inside the timber but, even better, there was a small triple topped silver fir snag there as well. The silver fir snag was pretty distinctive so I should be able to find it on the way back. Ten minutes later I was at the edge of another tag alder patch. The next trib. I would be following ran through this tag alder patch. The tag alders weren’t too bad where I was so I made it through pretty easily. On the map, the best route looked to be on the south side of the trib. so I made my way there. The hillslope turned steep almost immediately. The spot where I crossed the tag alder patch should also be easy to find on the way back. It was pretty much on a flat about 50 yards from the base of the hill. The hill was pretty steep but easily doable. After a couple hundred feet the hillslope seemed to become much more gradual. I thought I might be past the tight contour lines I had seen on the map. The going was pretty brushy but generally easy so I stuck with the flatter ground, keeping the creek within earshot so I wouldn’t wander off my route. I skirted a couple small spring draws on my way up. Finally I was at the point where I could barely hear the creek. The ground was guiding me south away from the creek. It looked like there was now a fairly steep ridge between me and the creek. The hillslope I was on was still pretty gradual and I had the thought that I might be able to continue up on that and cut back over to the creek and lakes near the top where it was flatter but I didn’t want to chance it. If I got back next to the creek it would be a sure thing that I wouldn’t miss the lakes. So I started sidehilling. Fifteen minutes got me around the steep ridge and back well within earshot of the creek. The ground was a lot steeper here but still easily doable. I thought I should be close at this point. I could see the top of the ridge on the other side of the creek valley. But it is always a little farther than you think. The ground got considerably flatter though and that was nice. Another fifteen or twenty minutes and I was at the lower lake. It had taken me about four hours to get here. The lower lake was bounded at its outlet by large terminal moraine ten to fifteen high at the highest. The outlet stream had eroded through the highest point of the moraine. Not huge as land forms go but this one was pretty impressive I thought. My first order of business was lunch. As I was digging into my pack I saw a fish. This was news to me. I hadn’t seen any sign of fish on my earlier trip but it had been late in year and I had been in a hurry so I probably didn’t look that closely. The bugs were numerous so I didn’t linger after lunch to try to nap. I did a good walk around the area of the lake observing wetland type plants. The next order of business was to see if I could catch some fish. I was curious what species these would be. I had seen prominent red stripes on several of the larger fish I had seen while walking around the lake. I didn’t think it would be too hard to catch a few. I use spinners because they are generally easier to carry and the style I use usually gets some hits or at least fish following it in. I got a hit my first cast and started reeling the fish in but it came off. No big deal. A hit on the first cast usually means that more will hit. A fish followed the spinner in after the next cast but no bite. Nothing, not even a follower the next several casts. Apparently I had worn out my welcome at this spot so I moved on down the lakeshore 10 or 20 yards. Got a bite on the second cast there but, again, the fish came off. Then nothing again. 10 or 20 yards farther down the lakeshore the pattern repeated itself. I took a good close look at my spinner. It was an older one and at least one of the hook tips was bent. I decided to put a brand new one on. I was beginning to get a suspicion and I wanted the best hooks I could get. I re-rigged and started back around the lake. Nothing was even following the spinner in the areas where I had already fished. At the lake on Freezeout Creek that had golden trout in it, the fish acted the same way they were acting here. They would initially hit the spinner but not very hard. They were hard to hook. Once I missed a fish, the rest of them seemed to lose all interest in the spinner and actually avoided it. I continued around the lake. The pattern kept repeating. There were several good strikes where I blew it and failed to hook the fish. Finally I had gone as far as I could around the lake and no fish. This was pretty frustrating. I had a very strong suspicion what species (actually subspecies, golden trout are a subspecies of rainbow trout) these were but I couldn’t prove it unless I had one in hand to look at closely. I also wanted to get some better photos of golden trout than the ones I had taken last year. Not least I had burned up a bunch of time that I hadn’t expected to. I still wanted to get into the upper lake about 500 feet above and I was running out of time. There was only one spot by the outlet that I hadn’t tried yet so I made my way back there. I miscast the first time at the outlet. Two fish came out and looked at it but didn’t get too close. This was my last chance. Sometimes if two fish are going after a lure one will speed up and hit it harder before the other one can get to it. My next cast landed right where I wanted it and two fish sped out at the spinner and sure enough the one put on a little burst and hit hard. I set the hook and had it. It was hooked very well. I wasn’t surprised to see that it was a golden trout. Pretty exciting. I got my photos and then some. I tried not to torture the fish too much but I wanted to make sure my photos were good. It was pretty small, about 8 inches long and I didn’t expect to catch any more given the behavior of the rest of the fish. So I turned it loose. Then I discovered that, in the excitement of catching the fish and getting good photos of it, I had lost my 7mm mechanical pencil. I had several other pencils that I could use to take notes with but I had had this 7mm pencil for about 20 years. Even though no longer worked like it should it was still serviceable and it had a good bit of sentimental value to it. It had been with me everywhere I had been in the mountains in the last 20 years and had survived several other episodes of being lost. I pawed around in the heather and blueberry bushes for a few minutes in the areas where I thought it might be with no luck. Finally, I had to give it up. I didn’t have all day and, as I said, I had other pencils so this one could be replaced. I gathered my camera and pole and started back to my pack. At the first step I took I looked down and there was the pencil. Pretty silly but that made really happy. I packed up and headed to the upper lake. I tried a couple of casts on the way back to my pack but not a single fish even looked at the spinner. Derigged my pole and put everything back in my pack and started for the upper lake. On the ground, the route that looked best on the map along the outlet stream of the upper lake didn’t look so good in real life. It was choked with krummholz trees that had been incessantly pummeled by snow slides, creating a mass that would resist my every movement. I didn’t remember the route I took on my previous trip but I was pretty sure it wasn’t that one. The more promising route would be on the southwest of a small shoulder of rock that bounded the outlet stream. This was talus, open meadow and short trees that hadn’t been hammered. The ground into the lake looked a little steeper here on the map but I thought I would be able to deal with it. In about half an hour I was looking down into the upper lake. The route I had taken put me above it by about a hundred feet. I started looking for a spot off the ridge towards the outlet end but that ended in cliffs and ground steeper than I wanted to try so I retraced my steps. Just past where I had topped the ridge I found a nice gap in the rock of the ridge that was a good route down. At the lake I saw something blaze orange. Upon closer inspection it turned out to be a snow stake. Apparently there is a snotel site in the area where the winter snowpack is measured, or at least that is what it looked like. I couldn’t see someone packing a stake like that up there for any other purpose. I checked the lake out. It was pretty barren and water from a number of nearby snowfields was flowing through it pretty rapidly. It was too small for fish and probably too cold for amphibians and pretty barren to boot. Got started back out at a little before 4:00 p.m. I was on my way out now. It had taken about four hours to get in and it is usually faster on the way out so I figured I had plenty of time before it got dark but I didn’t want to take any chances. The sun was starting to leave the lower lake basin. Stopped at a spot where I crossed the outlet stream of the upper lake just above the lower lake and watered up. Sun was pretty much gone by the time I crossed the outlet of the lower lake and hit the woods. I chose a route a lot closer to the outlet stream on the way out. I had liked the flatter ground I had followed up but was worried that I might wander quite a bit from my intended route if I took it and got out of earshot of the creek. I wouldn’t be lost. All I had to do was go downhill and I would hit the trib. to Granite Creek and then follow that out. My concern was ending up a lot farther upstream on that trib. than I had to be, requiring me to walk farther to get out. The ground was much steeper on the route out and a lot of it was hard forest duff which was slippery so I had to use a lot of caution but it was doable. I hit the flat at the bottom of the hill slightly upstream or west of the spot where I had come up but it was only about 50 yards. I easily found where I had crossed the lake outlet stream and navigated the tag alders in the slide there. Now I was on the nice bench where the Granite Creek trib. flowed. My plan was to stick with this flat until I hit Granite Creek. At the edge of the next slide area and tag alder patch I thought I was a little low so I headed uphill a bit. I After about 50 feet, I didn’t see the downed hemlock log and triple topped silver fir snag. I was either really low or too high. Looking at the hillslope in front of me and calculating my distance to the creek, I was sure that I wasn’t way too low. I was probably too high so I headed down the hill. Just about the time I was getting a little worried, I saw the hemlock log and then the triple topped silver fir snag. I had found my convenient route through the tag alders. The rest of the trip was pretty uneventful, the usual navigating windfalls and brushy areas. The flat was good traveling. It seemed like it took forever though. At some point, I abandoned trying to stay too close to the creek. It was still within earshot but as long as I continued downhill, I would hit Granite Creek. Towards the bottom the thought occurred to me that, if I didn’t pay attention, I could end up paralleling Granite Creek and not know it and end up walking a lot farther down Granite Creek than I needed to. However, the trib. I was following was quite a bit smaller than Granite Creek and I figured that I should be able to look at the creek and tell if I was still on the trib. or on Granite Creek. About 15 minutes later, I was standing on the left bank of Granite Creek. I had maintained a good course parallel to the trib. and landed at Granite Creek. I crossed and was back at my rig by 7:00 p.m. 

Looking northwest at the lower lake (5425 ft. elevation). The lake is on the other side of the large berm (terminal moraine) in the foreground. 

Looking west at the 5425 foot lake. 

Looking north and a little west from the outlet of the 5425 lake. The terminal moraine (berm) is visible to the right of the frame. 

Looking roughly east at the 5425 lake. Terminal moraine at middle of frame. 

The fish I finally caught. I believe these fish were golden trout (Oncorhynchus mykiss aquabonita), a subspecies of rainbow trout. 

Looking southeast at the 5425 lake on the way into the upper (5892 ft.) lake. 

Looking southeast at the 5892 lake. The peaks in the distance are in the Cutthroat Pass area. 



Unnamed Lake Eccentric Mountain 9/2/22 

 I had planned a four day trip over Labor Day weekend. The previous weekend had been spent fixing one of several problems with the new house we were getting built so we could get an occupancy permit and move in. There were several other issues that I could have stayed and used Friday to address but this was my chance to get into another lake in a summer that was rapidly fading into the past. If I didn’t get it done this year, I would be at least another year older before I could try again. So, feeling somewhat guilty and dissatisfied with myself I made arrangements to do the trip (the kicker is that I would have been just as dissatisfied if I had stayed home and dealt with those issues during a weekend when the weather was good. There was no winning in the situation). The plan was to get a water taxi up Ross Lake to Devil’s Junction and try to get up over Devil’s Dome, Devil’s Pass and to the North Fork of Canyon Creek on the first day. Go over a ridge from the North Fork Canyon Creek into a lake about a mile away off trail and then back to Bearskull on the second day. The third day would be spent trying a different route into a small lake below Bearskull that I had been into in 2020. There were some things I wanted to look at that I hadn’t had a chance to on the previous trip. We ran out of time because we needed to get out before dark and ended up taking a pretty sketchy route out. While studying maps over the last several years, I thought I had found a route that would be better than the routes we had taken on the previous trip. I wanted to take a day to try it out. If it wasn’t a go it wouldn’t be a big deal. The things I wanted to look at were pretty minor in the scheme of things. I had checked out the lake pretty well on the previous trip though I had been disappointed in not finding any fish or amphibians. The fourth day would be spent getting out. I was hoping to get an early boat on Friday to try to get as far up the hill as possible before it got hot. Because it was Labor Day weekend, I figured things would be kind of busy and didn’t have a lot of hope of getting an early boat. The timetable for the trip also depended on my getting to the North Fork of Canyon Creek that day. If I got a later boat, I might have to modify my plans. I was pleasantly surprised to get a boat at 8:00 a.m. on Friday. There was a lot of wildfire smoke down in the valley over Ross Lake but the morning was pleasantly cool and I got started up the hill at a little after 8:30 a.m. The smoke wasn’t as bad as I have experienced before but it was definitely bad. The thought occurred to me that exercise is supposed to be good for you but what if, while you were exercising you were sucking all kinds of noxious substances deep into your lungs. Kind of defeats the purpose I would guess. We were getting poor quality air warnings at work the several days previous because of the smoke. People also sometimes survive years of chainsmoking which has to be even worse. I figured that I would take the chance. After I got up about a thousand feet above the lake the air got noticeably better. Settled in for the slog up the hill. I knew it would be a while before I topped out at Dry Creek Pass. Everything seemed to be going okay. My legs felt a little weak, I hadn’t done any heavy hiking in a couple of weeks and I wondered if I had started to lose a little strength. They say it only takes a couple of weeks and I was 57 and already starting to lose muscle tone. This might have been all psychological too. I remembered from the previous trip that the last little bit before the pass hit me kind of hard because it was steep right at the end when I was already tired from walking 5 miles or more uphill. There was a blue grouse in the trail just before the first live stream crossing, about three and a half miles from the lake. The grouse refused to fly and ran up the trail in front of me for several hundred yards. Stopped at the creek and had a quick bite to eat. Very cool and nice by the creek. So cool that I actually started getting cold. Got going again and once I hit a sunny spot the coldness all ended. It was a little hot in the sun but nice and cool once I hit the shady areas. Had to wring my bandanna sweatband out several times so I was sweating pretty heavily. Someone had cleared most of the logs out of the trail since 2020 so the going was pretty good. Finally started to gas out several miles from Dry Creek Pass. Had hit the first set of switchbacks in on open ceanothus/buckbrush area. I had remembered this from the previous trip and that there were more switchbacks ahead and that these weren’t too far below the pass. I just misremembered how far I still had to go to get to the next set. I was resting more frequently now but I think I was still making pretty decent time. Finally, in the last steep run up to the pass my legs started cramping. This was inconvenient. I had wanted to get to at least where the trail to Bearskull Shelter took off before I took a break. I planned to take a good long break and eat lunch there. But now I couldn’t move very fast. Got to Dry Creek Pass and there was a nice steady breeze blowing. I should have just stopped there but I wanted to get to the trail cutoff so I pushed on. Just above the pass the trail cuts behind the ridge and the breeze was blocked. Without the breeze the air was hot and there were lots of flies. I hobbled on, stopping every dozen yards or so to let the cramps lessen. Finally got to another spot back on the ridgetop where there was a side trail where people went for a view. The steady breeze was back. It was a little short of the trail junction but it was good enough. I dropped my pack and flopped down. After eating, I dozed off for an hour or so. On most the longer rest breaks for the last hour or so I had started to doze off so I needed some sleep and my legs needed a good rest. I had been up rather late the night before and had gotten up early so it was no surprise that I was sleepy. Woke up about 3:00 p.m. Breeze still blowing but it was warm now. Out of curiousity hung thermometer on a limb. In a few minutes it showed a temperature of about 82 degrees Fahrenheit. Still had about 5 hours to get to the North Fork of Canyon Creek where I planned to camp. I figured that I would have to make it that far in order to have a chance to get back into the lake below Bearskull Mountain. I could get into the lake over the ridge from Canyon Creek the next day (Saturday) and have time to make it back to Bearskull to camp. Then I would have all day Sunday to try to get into the next lake below Bearskull. My problem now was that I still had quite a bit of uphill to go. My legs felt fine now, just a little tired but I was worried about getting cramps again. I would have to take it easy. Once I was over the top of Devil’s Dome I figured that it wouldn’t be too bad because it would be mostly flat or a little downhill, not a lot of heavy uphill walking. Started out at a slower pace and did well. Was encouraged to see that there was still water just below Devil’s Dome. I had been counting on this and watered up there. Made it up over Devil’s Dome without a problem. From Devil’s Dome I could see a number of fires of different sizes burning. They were mostly just smoking. It looked like there might be as many as half a dozen in the Lightning/Three Fools drainage. Looked like the cool cloudy weather we had gotten down in the valley the previous weekend had resulted in dry lightning, sparking in these fires. Started on the way to Devil’s Pass. In my head it didn’t look like it would be too far and the trail would be relatively easy. In the real world it seemed like it took forever. I kept coming up to open meadows expecting to be at the pass only to realize that I had miles to go. The trail wasn’t too hard but at this point my legs were hammered. They weren’t crampy but they felt like rubber. My shoulders also started to hurt, probably because I was doing a lot more downhill which tends to make my shoulders hurt more. Once I had to stop to rest my shoulders. But I pushed on. I knew I would be really stiff the next day but if I wanted to pull this trip off like I planned I needed to get to the North Fork of Canyon Creek this day. I felt like I had plenty of reserves to do it even though I was dog tired. Finally I reached Devil’s Pass. It was kind of a surprise. I had been through here two years ago from Anacortes Crossing and the Jackita Ridge Trail but hadn’t gone out on the trail towards Devil’s Dome from which I came this trip. Finally! Now it was about a mile of pretty easy trail to get to where I planned to camp. Then I saw the hot pink and black striped ribbon across the trail where I had planned to go. This couldn’t be good. It wasn’t. A nearby signed informed me that the trail was closed due to fire activity. I had just wasted the weekend. Even worse, I could have spent part of this day moving things towards getting the house done. It was also too late to do anything about it. I looked from the pass towards the area I had planned to go. There was a fire right about where I had planned to go over the ridge. As I watched, it crowned in several trees, turning them into giant torches. Well, I definitely wasn’t going over there. I wouldn’t have time to get another trip like this together this year, even if the weather did get wet and extinguish the fire enough to make it safe. I would have to try again next year. I walked out to a viewpoint and took a few photos of the fire. It would be getting dark soon. There was good water right below the pass, near a collapsed shelter. I had stayed there in 2020. To get there would require going past the ribbon a little bit but I reasoned that the water was right below the pass and I assumed that the USFS had built a bit of a safety factor when they established the fire boundaries. The wind at the pass was blowing from the direction of the fire but I could see that the wind at the fire was blowing away from the pass. I am far from an expert on fire behavior but I know that often fire activity lessens during the night due to cooler temperatures and increased humidity. Of course I could have been wrong about fire behavior or the fire might behave differently in this situation and winds can change and fires can sometimes move long distances incredibly quickly. There wasn’t another water source in a safe area that I knew of for miles other than the one at the base of the pass. Taking all of these things into consideration, I figured it was a pretty safe bet and worth the risk to camp at the water just below the pass so that is where I headed. I got my tent set up just before dark. I usually put up the rain fly even if the weather is supposed to be dry but I didn’t this time, reasoning that I would be better able to see a glow in the distance to warn me if the fire did something that I didn’t expect. I cooked and ate by headlamp light and turned in. I slept pretty well and the fire didn’t blow up. I didn’t linger too long in the morning because I didn’t feel entirely comfortable where I was. I got started out a little after 7:00 a.m. I didn’t have a boat out until Monday and probably wouldn’t gain anything by walking out on the East Bank Trail instead of waiting for the boat. I wanted to try the route into the lake below Bearskull Mountain so my new plan was to take an easy day to walk back to Bearskull Shelter, stay there Saturday night and try that route on Sunday. This would leave me plenty of time to get to the boat dock by 1:30 p.m. on Monday. I got to Bearskull at about 1:00 p.m. I jumped a bear right at the junction with the trail to Bearskull Shelter. It was pretty unique looking. It was black but the top of its head, shoulders and spine had this kind of blonde frosting. I had never seen a bear like that before. It lingered for a few moments but by the time I got my camera out it was gone. It was the zipper. Most wild animals I have seen will bolt at the sound of a zipper. Apparently it is a very unnatural sound. I also saw another typical looking black bear several miles out of Devil’s Pass that morning. This one looked very fat with a nice round profile and rolling fat as it ran. Both bears were in patches where the berries were growing this year. I had noticed that there were some decent sized patches of berries but also a lot of bushes that were barren. I would guess that this year was an “okay” year for berries but definitely not a bumper crop. Set up camp at Bearskull Shelter and took a nap for several hours. The day had turned hazy with smoke in the afternoon. I decided to walk back out the trail a bit and get up where I could get some views and see if I could get some good sunset photos. Sometimes the haze creates spectacular scenes. Not this night though. There were only a few spots of deep crimson as the sun went down. I slept pretty well that night too. I lazed around the next morning and it took me about an extra hour to get out of my sleeping bag. I had plenty of time this day. After breakfast I headed up toward the ridge and the route I wanted to try. We had found the old trail in 2020 and I was able to follow it quite a distance, making my journey this time easier than in 2020. I first undershot the spot where my possible route was, a ridge running northeast took off the main ridge. I got a good look at the side of this northeast running ridge and it didn’t look promising. Then I overshot the cutoff onto the northeast running ridge. It worked out though. I was able to study the ridge from the other side. If my first views of this ridge didn’t look promising, this view was even worse. There was a steep spot that looked just barely doable and then a cliff 40 feet or higher just below that. I was done. I could see most of the route we had taken in 2020. We ran the ridge almost to Spratt Mountain where we could cut down easily. I had time to do this and retrace the route today easily but it didn’t think it would be worth the effort. At this point I thought my best but was to get down to the boat dock and maybe I would be lucky enough to catch a boat ride back. On my way back I tried getting down the northeast running ridge just to make sure I hadn’t overestimated things. I verified that I had been right in my first impression. It was way too steep. So I continued on out. I broke camp and headed out, cutting out small trees here and there along the trail with my hand saw. Got down to the East Bank Trail at about 6:00 p.m. It was too late to reasonably expect to luck out with a ride back tonight. The horse camp was empty so I camped there. To kill time after dinner I walked the East Bank Trail towards Devil’s Creek for about an hour. I had a hard time getting to sleep that night. Gary Wright’s song “Love is Alive” had been looping through my head all day. I had tried to banish it with other songs a number of times but it always creeped back into my head. It was especially bad the first couple of hours I tried to get to sleep. The intro was incessant. Once I finally got to sleep I slept well. Up pretty early the next morning, got breakfast, packed up and was at the boat dock at about 8:00 a.m. Hung out there for a while and saw several boats zoom by on the other side of the lake. Didn’t look like anything was going to be happening here. Some folks were camped there and were scheduled to get a ride out at 1:30 p.m. the same as me. Finally took a walk towards Dry Creek to kill time. Walked for a little more than an hour. The day was pleasantly cool. Went back to the boat dock and waited the last hours until the boat showed up. I actually got cold so I found a nice patch of sun and napped for an hour or so before the boat showed up. It was kind of nice to rest for most of the day. The last mile out from the Ross Haul Road was a bit of work. It always is. Pack weighed 54.9 pounds at the end of the trip. 

Panorama looking northwest across Ross Lake from Bearskull Mountain. 

Panorama of Crater and Jack Mountains from near Devil's Pass. 

Looking north from Devil's Dome at one of the numerous forest fires burning int he area. 

Same view as above zoomed out showing more fires. 

Remnants of a structure on Devil's Dome. I don't know off the top of my head the purpose for this structure and haven't had time to look into it but a fire lookout or lookout of some kind would be a good guess. 

Looking northwest from Devil's Dome at Bearskull Mountain. 

Looking north from Devil's Dome at Hozomeen Mountain. 

Looking south from Devil's Dome at Crater Mountain. 

Looking west at Devil's Dome from Devil's Pass Trail. 

Crater and Jack Mountains from Devil's Pass Trail near Devil's Dome. 

Looking east from Devil's Pass at a forest fire. 

Same as above zoomed in at a flare up. This looked like it was very close to the spot I needed to go through to get to lake I was trying to get into. 

Crater and Jack Mountains from the Devil's Pass Trail on my way out. 

Looking east at smoke haze on my way out. One can barely make out the big glaciers on Mount Challenger.  

Nearing Devil's Dome on the Devil's Pass Trail on my way back. 

Looking east again. The haze had cleared somewhat at this point and Mount Challenger is more easily visible. 

Looking east at Devil's Dome. 

Looking northwest across Ross Lake from Bearskull Mountain. 

Looking south from ridge between Bearskull and Spratt Mountains at Jack Mountain. 

Looking south from ridge between Bearskull and Spratt Mountains at Jack Mountain a little farther along the ridge the photo above.  


Looking northwest across Ross Lake from ridge between Bearskull and Spratt Mountains. 

Looking south at Jack Mountain from Beaskull Mountain. 

Jack Mountain from Dry Creek Pass Trail. The sky looks threatening but it didn't rain. It would have been nice it did even though I would have probably gotten a bit wet. The majority of this summer was very dry-too dry. 




Pearsall Creek 9/17-18/22 

The weekend before I spent trying to get the house ready to move in. This weekend was another nice one and I wanted to get out. Had spent four weekend days brushing a trail up Pearsall for an approach that had stymied me several times already. I thought I was pretty close to being through the worst of the brush but I wanted to have one last look this year. I would have to do a little brushing next year and figure out how to get over the cliffs. I wouldn’t get it done this year-too much other stuff going on. I also wanted to have one last look at the cliffs to make sure I wasn’t missing a possible route through. Got a pretty late start, around noon but the distance I needed to travel wasn’t that far and shouldn’t be too hard to get to my camping spot before dark. If I hadn’t brushed the route I would have had to get an early start and it would have taken all day just to get to the camping spot. Good traveling most of the way to the first talus slope. Before I had brushed a route through, these talus slopes were kind of a break from the brush, still difficult but not brushy. Now they had become kind of a pain in the neck. The first one was the worst. I always seemed to encounter several very large rocks that shifted underfoot here. Got to the last talus slope that my brushed route led to. On the other side of this it was a short hop through some small brush and forbs to a dry stream bed. This was nice and open and easy traveling. I followed it up to near the base of some cliffs on the valley wall. There was still a bit of water here so I took a short break and watered up. Discovered a tailed frog tadpole in the stream just about at the point where the stream went subsurface. It actually attached itself to my hand momentarily while I was filling my water jug. I eased it off my hand a little farther upstream. Picked up my pack and continued on. From here I had to dodge several brush patches but nothing I had to push through. The ferns and other forbs were thick here. They offered a little resistance but nothing like tag alders or vine maples. The worst thing is that I couldn’t see the ground which was full of holes and hummocks and rocks and caused quite a few missteps. If I had the chance, I would cut a route through these areas next year. It was here that I discovered that I had left my tent at home. This wasn’t the end of the world but it was disappointing. I was counting on the tent to keep the bugs at bay. I could also install the rain fly which would help trap body heat and keep me a little warmer. It wasn’t going to rain and it wasn’t going to be super cold, I doubted that it would even get down to freezing. I would put on my long underwear before crawling into my sleeping bag and I should be plenty warm. One last open talus slope then a short route through some giant boulders with trees growing in them that was a bit of a pain to navigate and I was at the dry open bed of a large side stream that would lead me to the open area in the main valley where I planned to camp. I wasn’t sure if there would be water here so I filled up at the last stream. I was reassured to hear water farther up the stream channel. This meant that I wouldn’t have to do a dry camp. There was still a large snowfield in the main valley that I would also check for water but it was good to know that there was some available though I discovered that I would have to travel a pretty good distance up the slope of a large alluvial fan if I wanted water. Hopefully I there would be some water in the main valley. I would have to travel quite a distance to get to it but it would be closer and not as steep. The first time I had been here there had been water quite a bit lower in the main valley but that had been over a month earlier in the year. Got to the area where I wanted to camp. Decided to use a different spot from where I usually pitched my tent. Area was at the confluence of several dry side streams. Mostly larger gravel here and a lot of the area would be exposed to rock fall from the steep slopes all around. Also there was a steady breeze down the main valley off the large snowfield. This was nice for keeping the bugs at bay but it lowered the temperature by ten degrees F or more. I wanted to be out of that breeze at least a little bit. Located bedding spot that looked pretty safe from rockfall and just around the shoulder of the main valley wall. It was a nice flat spot. Still a bit breezy, less bugs but no steady wind. The bedding spot was all rock but I removed the larger rocks figured it would be pretty good. Then I decided to cut some tag alders. I had been aware of this bit of woodcraft for years but had never used it. Traditionally evergreen boughs are used to make a bed but all the evergreens here were too stunted and spiky and stiff so I used tag alders instead. With my bed made, I checked out the water situation. I headed up the several hundred yards up the main valley to the big snowfield. It felt like December in the steady breeze. My eyes were watering and my fingers stung and began to numb in the cold. There was a nice steady stream of water just outside a large snow cave under the snowfield. Nice. This water was closer than the stream on the other side of the valley. I had been hoping that I wouldn’t have to go into the snow cave to get to it. Every year or so you hear about people who get killed or injured by collapsing snow caves. I lucked out here. Went back and cooked dinner. Made the trip back up to the snowfield to wash pot and water up. Fingers got really cold washing the pot in the ice water. Back at camp I dug out my long underwear and extra wool socks and dressed up. Crawled into sleeping bag made some field notes and settled in for the night. Actually nice not having a tent in a way because it was one less step in the process of setting up camp. Just as I got settled, I realized that I was kind of thirsty and I had left my water jug by the cooking stuff. Going to get it would require crawling out of my sleeping bag and putting my shoes back on. There were lots of sharp rocks between my sleeping spot and the cooking spot and I didn’t want to walk it in sock feet. Finally decided I better get the water jug. Settled in again after retrieving the water jug and taking a drink. It took a while for my toes to warm up but overall I was very comfortable. Slept well and it was morning before I knew it. I lazed around in the sleeping bag for an hour or so. I figured that I had plenty of time to look at everything I wanted to and get out that day so I was going to take it easy for a bit. Finally got up and got going a little after 8:00 a.m. Made my way up the side of the main valley. There was a heavy growth of small trees that I had to push through. These trees were beginning to become a bit of an obstacle, not a bad one but way more than they had been the first time I had been to this valley nine years ago. Clambered through loose stream rock and then a talus slope to the first spot I wanted to look at. I had looked at this spot from the across the valley but never up close. Things sometimes look different from up close so I figured it was worth the effort to look at. If I could get up out of the main valley here I could possibly follow a small side valley to another pass or saddle where I might be able to get into the ponds. On the map it looked like there was a lot of steep ground in the side valley as well so I figured if there wasn’t an easy way into it from the main valley, this route wouldn’t be worth pursuing. I ended up on the edge of a vertical drop off cut by a kind of side stream flowing into the stream from the side valley where my potential route was. Below me I could see some areas of bedrock in the side valley that were doable but getting out of the main valley into the side valley looked just a little more than I was comfortable trying to do by myself. It was the same situation above the doable bedrock. So this route wasn’t going to be as good as the original route I had planned. I had the thought that I might be able to get into the side valley from a higher location rather than trying to get into it from the main valley. Following the side stream to the side valley up another hundred feet sealed this conviction. The stream had eroded headward to bedrock leaving a very steep slope of loose material above a drop off of many more feet than I would want to fall into a bedrock valley. It was probably just doable but not worth it if the route after that was more of the same. Scrambled up the side of the valley through a small pass behind a large rock outcrop to get to the original route I had planned. There was a crack in the bedrock there that I wanted to look at to make sure that there wasn’t a chimney or something there that I could use to get past the steep ground at the pass that had stopped me before. Looked at the crack and no dice. Clambered up the pass for one more look at the most likely route into the ponds. Confirmed that it was still just a little bit more than I was comfortable with doing by myself. I did see that a bear had been using this route. This was a good sign. Obviously bears can climb trees and go up routes steeper than I would want to do unassisted but it also told me that it probably wasn’t too far through steep ground to get into the small bowl where the ponds sat. When I had been here before the only sign I had seen was of mountain goats which wouldn’t necessarily indicate less steep ground nearby. I had thought about taking a little break right there at the pass but the wind wasn’t very strong there and the bugs were pretty bad so I made my way back down the valley. The wind picked up as I went down the slope. Got back to camp at a little after 11:00 a.m. Wasn’t much to pack up so I was on my way back down the valley in about ten minutes. Stopped at the small side stream where I had seen the tailed frog tadpole and had lunch before finishing the trip out of the valley, my last for the year. Back at my rig at a little before 5:00 p.m.

This is a plant I have only encountered rarely and in the southern part of the Skagit watershed. The only other place I recall seeing it is at Gothic Basin, not too far from Pearsall Creek. I originally misidentified it (from memory) as sibbaldia (Sibbaldia procumbens). For some reason on this trip, a seed of doubt was sowed in my mind so I took some photos. When I got back, I took the time to look it up (I often have a hard time doing this because my time is always limited). It turns out that it is most likely a burnet (Sanguisorba) of some kind. Same family (Rose) as sibbaldia but otherwise not very similar to it at all.  










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