keely – Page 47 – State of Wilderness

Bend Bound

It was with sadness that we finally made our way out of this area. After a last morning driving around the southeastern side of Mt Rainier, we took the turn for White Pass, and began heading into Oregon, via Yakima.
Of course, our drive took twice as long as it should have, since we had to stop to geocache and explore every little area. This picture above is of Rimrock Lake, a storage reservoir for the Yakima Project, an irrigation program. Its capacity is controlled by the Tieton Dam on one side and the Clear Creek Dam on the other. This area provides outdoor enthusiasts with opportunities for fishing, camping, boating, and water sports. Trout are in abundance here, and wildlife that share the area include deer, elk, osprey, bald eagles, otter and bear. We didn’t see any of those while we were out there playing, but we did find a few caches.

This spot here holds little action right now, but in the winter is a feeding ground for elk. In 1913, Rocky Mountain elk were brought to this area from Yellowstone National Park. However, these elk tend to range up to 70 miles between the winter and spring feeding grounds, and there eventually became conflict between land owners and ranchers and the elk. The Department of Fish and Wildlife got involved to work out a compromise. In 1939, this agency began to provide hay to the elk at this location to keep them from wandering and damaging property. In the 1940s, they built a hundred miles of eight foot high fences to keep the elk here during the winter. The hay is grown on government property. Elk can eat between 3-10 lbs of hay a day, and at peak feeding times, there is up to 8,000 elk here at a time. That is a lot of hay! I wish we had seen the elk, but they are there November-February, and this was the end of June.

This is a shot of a miniature Stonehenge, which sits near the edge of Washington, hanging just above the Columbia River Gorge, which you can see in the next picture. This replica of the original stands as a monument to heroism and peace. It was Sam Hill who had the idea to erect this monument, after being inspired by seeing the real StoneHenge in England and wanted to build this one as a reminder of the sacrifices made during World War I, and the “incredible folly” of the war. In 1918, it was dedicated to the servicemen of Klickitat County, Washington who died in the service of their country during the Great War. The monument was actually finished in 1929 and re-dedicated. Sam Hill was a very interesting person who was influential in getting roads built in Washington and Oregon. See more about his life here.

Another one of Sam Hill’s contributions was this road pictured above, and in the next two shots: the Maryville Loops. Sam paid for these roads to be constructed out of his own pocket, after being frustrated with the Washington government’s failure to agree to build a highway along the Columbia River Gorge.

Our stop here at this road was purely serendipitous. I thought we could drive down this road and that would be a fun adventure (plus there is a cache along it), but we never saw a turn for it. Instead, we saw a turnoff for an overlook, and stopped to look. As chance would have it, we got there just as buses were pulling up to unload skaters for a practice run for a competition happening that weekend. There were different types of skate competitions, and we watched a few rounds of this, taking pictures and video. It was so completely awesome and unexpected.

After this, we made it over the Gorge, stopping for dinner and one more cache, and realizing we better make some miles if we hoped to make it to Bend tonight.
As you can see, though, it was tough to resist temptations to get out and take photos and explore the surroundings, as they were particularly beautiful.

Finally, we made it to Tumalo State Park, and to our camping reservation. Still with daylight left, too! We had time to pitch our tent and have a dinner of that same salad from Pike Market that we had been carting around before going to sleep, the sound of the creek singing a lullaby to us as we got some well-needed rest.

Mount Rainier Requiem

After our adventures in Hyak, we headed back to our cabin in Greenwater, planning to take it easy. We could not resist the double lure, though, of the Natchez Tavern, where we had awesome cheeseburgers, and further exploring towards the direction of Mt Rainier National Park.
The section of the park that was closest to us, Sunrise, was temporarily closed in the couple of days we spent there. It was being used as a staging area for an attempted recovery of the body of Nick Hall, a young park ranger who had died the week before while rescuing hikers. A group of experienced hikers were making a descent of the mountain when two of them slid into a crevasse near a glacier at 13,700 feet. Hall was among the rescue rangers who responded to the distress call by arriving in a Chinook helicopter to help pull the hikers out. The winds were upwards of 40 mph and dark was approaching as the third of four hikers was being loaded into the rescue basket. Somehow during the commotion of the rescue, Nick Hall lost his balance or his hold, and fell three thousand feet. He was unresponsive afterwards, and confirmed dead when rangers finally reached him, several hours later. It was too dangerous to continue the mission after his fall, and the fourth hiker had to make her way down the mountain on foot with hiking rangers who had stayed behind with her.
We thought a lot about Hall as we headed to the Nisqually Vista area of Rainier, taking pictures of this mountain from every angle. We thought that it was such a clear day that surely the efforts to retrieve his body would be successful, but ultimately it was another week before he was able to be brought down. His memorial service was held the next day, as we were leaving the park. Flags were at half mast at the ranger stations. The park was sad and surreal in its grief to be losing one of their own.
On the nearby Chinook Pass, recently opened for the season, eight foot packs of ice lined the sides of the road, a crystal clear reminder that out here, the wild is a double edged sword, both blindingly beautiful and chillingly dangerous at the same time.

Something Wicked This Way Comes: Snoqualmie Version

After our disheartening defeat at GCD, we drove across the highway and found the parking area for our next quest: to travel through the Snoqualmie Tunnel to the other side to get another grandfather cache, one called “IronHorse”.
Jason had already found this cache, but I had not. Both of us had been to this area before. Many, many geocachers have. This area was a mecca for geocaching, due to it being a common route to the last remaining APE cache in the US, which sadly was archived in the previous year due to it being muggled repeatedly by that geo-pirate I mentioned in the last post. Jason claimed a find on the APE cache in 2005 when he was sent to the Seattle area for business. I found the APE cache myself in 2008 when I was up in the area for a work interview, and was considering moving up this way (still would love to do that). Both of us had taken the other approach to that famed cache – going up the Lake Annette trail, which was beautiful.
There was a typical traditional hide now in the spot the APE cache formerly laid, but neither of us had our sights on that today. He wanted to share the experience of the tunnel with me, help me find IronHorse, and also we wanted to find a cache hidden inside the middle of the tunnel called “Bloody Fingers, Dirty Diapers”.
As we approached the entrance to the tunnel, we were joined along the path by an unlikely trio: a man leading a horse, and a dog following alongside. It soon became clear that the trip intended to walk through the tunnel with us. I found that kind of amazing, because I don’t know many horses that would willingly walk through this tunnel. I don’t even know that every person I know would be willing to go through the tunnel. It is kind of creepy! Basically, it is an old abandoned railroad tunnel that was converted to a hike and bike trail, with no embellishments. There is no light in the tunnel. It goes on for two miles. After you get about a half mile in, the light from the entrance behind you starts to dim, and it grows progressively darker, until it is pitch black. Eventually, you can make out a tiny speck of light ahead. If you walk towards that light, it grows a little bigger, eventually looking a bit like a church window in the distance. Eventually, that church window widens in your view until you realize it is the exit.

So here we are, walking with the man, the horse, and the dog, and kind of making casual conversation with the man, but also sort of paying attention to the little pockets in the wall that used to hold lighting or electronics or some abandoned train machinery or whatnot. According to possible clues on the “Bloody Fingers, Dirty Diapers” cache page, the cache is located within one of these, and I was kind of counting and looking along the way, which slowed us down deliberately to pull us a little away from our odd walking companions. I wanted us to have the tunnel experience on our own, a little bit.
Eventually, they drifted away from us, and the click clack of the horse’s hooves advanced ahead of us and disappeared. We were half-blindly looking about for this cache, in the middle of the tunnel where the light is all gone. We had our headlamps on, but it only allowed us to see a few feet ahead of us.
Suddenly, we heard a noise in the distance behind us. “What was that?”, I asked Jason nervously. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it”. To me, though, it sounded like a frightened animal. It sounded like a large, frightened animal wailing. And the sound happened again, and it was getting closer….
I was getting spooked. My mind was racing trying to figure out what it could be. I oriented myself towards the noise, looking for a light coming towards us, something to indicate that the noise was human.
Then, Jason decided we were done looking for the cache, and needed to move. He encouraged me to start walking and look later. Then he picked up the pace. He said he was not worried about the sound, but his pace indicated that he also felt the prick of danger. He actually began hiking so fast I was having trouble keeping up with him, and thought about asking him to slow down, but then I would hear the noise behind us again, growing closer maybe, and I could NOT get out of the tunnel fast enough.
The last mile seemed to last forever. As we got closer to the exit and that window of light grew larger, I could see shapes moving around in it. I was confused at first, but then realized it appeared to be the silhouette of the cowboy and his dog. Where was his horse, though? And why was he dancing around the exit like that?

As we got to the exit, finally, I realized my recognition was correct. The cowboy was standing there to greet us, anxiously smoking a cigarette and asking us, “Did you see him?

“
Whaaaat? See who? The Poltergiest of Snoqualmie? I was really confused. He explained that he was waiting for his friend, another man leading another horse. I told him about the sounds I heard, and he explained it was probably the horse. Jason told the man that I had been scared it was some kind of bear or cougar who had wandered in the tunnel. “Oh, that happens all the time,” the man said. Really? Man, I would totally pee myself if I was walking in that tunnel and came across a predator like that in there with me.
Apparently, the man leading the horse did not listen to this cowboy when he counseled this guy to bring a spare flashlight. The man had his flashlight die on him, and was leading this horse, who had never encountered this kind of adventure, through the tunnel in absolute darkness behind us. Those noises were the sound of a horse in terror, which I am both surprised and glad I had not heard before enough to recognize.
This other man finally showed us, the horse blowing and snorting, shaking and rolling its eyes. After a few minutes, the men mounted up and rode off to have a mountain trail ride, the dog trailing behind.
Jason and I found IronHorse, then had a picnic of dinner rolls and cheese, bought at the Pike Market yesterday, at a table surrounded by mountains, crisp air, and singing birds. It was totally awesome, and totally worth the terror.
The way back through the tunnel was so much less frightening. Children on bikes following their parents breezed through. We must have seen about 20 bikers, a few hikers, all kinds of people. And we found that cache we were looking for after all, about halfway through. I am really glad we went, although it did take up a bug chunk of our day and energy. What else would have been a better way to spend our day, besides having this crazy adventure surrounded by so much beauty?

Mission Aborted: GCD

One of the main objectives for our trip was some specific old geocaches – “grandfather caches”, and GCD was one of those Do Not Miss ones. It was a prime reason for us being in this area in the first place. So, after a breakfast we cooked at our rental cabin, we drove out an hour or two to Hyak, across the highway from the Snoqualmie Tunnel where we would spend the afternoon, and drove up a rough service road to the parking area for the Mt Margaret trail head.
While we were getting out of the car, a man drove up behind us and started talking to us. He seemed nervous and his conversation choice was just kind of odd, and I had a hard time letting go of that the rest of the hike. There has been an issue up along this trail and along the Lake Annette trail nearby with a “geo-pirate” – someone with a vendetta against geocaching who was destroying all the caches in those areas. Recently, this had caused the archiving of the last remaining APE cache in the US. I thought maybe this man could have been this person, or possibly a theif or a murderer. Frankly, this man made us both so nervous that we felt unsafe during our hike, and had a hard time letting go of that feeling enough to really feel comfortable on the hike. Perhaps he was just a lonely old man…in the end, nothing was taken or harmed, but it just set a vibe that made everything not feel right.

Also, the hike was harder than anticipated, at least for J. I had at least read the cache page and was aware that it was not going to be an easy hike up due to the elevation climb, but J was not expecting that and was really not in the mood for hiking or carrying a pack. He was sore from the previous hiking we had done and his backpack was pretty heavy with camera equipment and the laptop (so the electronics would not get stolen from the car). So I was bouncing around excited and just loving it, but he was anti-hiking and several times suggested we turn back around. But no! I really wanted to get this cache so bad! This was also my favorite kind of hiking experience. The air felt crisp and clean, the mountain views were beautiful, the birds were singing, the weather was just right.

What wasn’t just right, though, were the trail conditions as we got closer to the cache. The hike is about two miles, one way. As we got less than half mile from the cache, the trail became more and more challenging. Snow lay over the trail, and had iced over, making the way slow and dangerous. As it turns out, after looking at the logs, someone falsely logged a find on it a few weeks earlier, with only a cache note of “thanks”, making me think it was somewhat passable, but really the last true find on this was the previous October, some eight months back before the winter. We started to realize that this was going to either be a lot more risky and challenging than we thought, or that we would have to give up. It says on the cache page that the cache is impossible to find under snow, so some months of the year it is not possible. I guess I was thinking summer would clear things up, but we were just too early in the season.
J was all in favor of turning around, but I really did not want to. I was about to try to talk him into waiting for me, while I went up by myself (I thought there was a way I could get around the snow and get up there – turns out I wasn’t crazy for thinking that because that is what the next person did, a few days later) but he didn’t think it was safe (probably wasn’t), and as I was about to argue with him about it, I saw a tree in the distance moving suspiciously, which made me question if there were predators ahead. The idea of meeting a predator out there alone with no weapon scared me into agreeing with him, and we went back down the mountainside, defeated.

Just two weeks later, cachers were logging finds on this cache again, and the snow was melting. Several of our friends found this cache later in the summer, around the time of the Groundspeak Block Party, which attracted a lot of people to the area. For us, it was all in the timing, and our timing was bad. This cache now has becomme another “Potter’s Pond” – another epic cache that J talked me out of due to prudence. I am the reckless one, he is the cautious one – the yang to my yin.
GCD, we will back, another year. Hopefully a warmer one and later in the season.