sleeping bear
New member
For the second weekend in a row, I opted to spend the whole time out in the cold rain. Even well dressed and well prepared for unexpected emergencies, I can’t help but feel that I’ve somehow been "cheating" hypothermia. A wrong slip on a rock, a quick tumble into a stream, or just succumbing to the wind and rain and it would be literally minutes before hypothermia set in. Can’t wait for those sunny days, but I’ll learn from the crappy ones while they’re here. By the way, the lesson of this weekend is "say yes to rain skirts" 
Part One... or Saturday
On Saturday morning, after deciding that a garbage bag skirt was the ticket of the day, Jessbee and I set out on the trail in search of the first stream, which we would then follow to the base of the slide. The stream was easy enough to follow and neither of us maintained any illusions about keeping our feet dry. The debris pile at the base of the slide was impressive to say the least, and the slide itself was massive. It was tame to begin with and we crossed the stream back and forth to follow the best way up. Hidden amongst the rocks Jess found a dirty but nice water bottle insulator complete with a bottle of something and a nice camp mug. She dumped out the “something” which was pretty nasty (see photo) and kept the stuff. Nice find!
The slide progressed up and made a turn, which marked the beginning of the steep stuff. From there we could see several sets of waterfalls above, each maybe 20 to 30 feet tall. The climbing was sketchy because there were so many slippery rocks, but it was impossible to tell which were slippery without actually testing them. Jess is damn mountain goat and was soon a bit ahead of me climbing away. I got freaked out and headed for the woods to whack my way up. Above the steep ledges and waterfalls we came out to a huge, steep talus field. Ten foot wide trenches were carved out of the loose stuff in obvious signs of recent sliding activity. The climbing was easier here, but possibly scarier. I found myself in the bottom of a small V of loose rocks. I was looking at a large boulder thinking how much fun it would be to roll it down the slide, and I almost did it, when it occurred to me that action might set off another slide. That slide would have been generally composed of, oh, I don’t know… the rocks I was standing on! Just then as I stepped all of the rocks shifted. I tried to climb out of the V and again all of the rocks shifted. Holy shit, I could be part of this slide! A little higher I noticed fracture lines (like snow) in the sand above there. Scary! Finally I arrived at the top of the slide where Jess had been waiting for me to catch up. There was a nice little cairn at the top with a blue rock that for a moment I thought was a tennis ball. The bushwhack was short and followed an obvious worn path which took us directly to the summit. Not bad.
After arriving back at the cars I tried to persuade Jess how much fun it would be to come hang out at a wet campsite for hot dogs and hot chocolate. I have no idea why she would turn down an offer like that!
Well, good thing she turned down that offer because at the campground was a note from a couple of somebodies who had wussed out and gone home! I paced around the campground office trying to decide if I should just go home too when I remembered that I had originally been planning on camping by myself anyway! So I decided to stay.
Part Two... or Sunday
It’s hard to get an early start when you’re by yourself and you have take down wet tarps and a tent. So I set out on the Falling Waters trail at about 10:30. At the trailhead I met a pair of guys waiting for the shuttle who informed me they had been hypothermic the day before coming from Galehead to the Greenleaf Hut. Fun stuff. A couple minutes down the trail and the biggest squirrel I’ve ever seen ran out 10 feet in front of me. Wait, squirrels don’t look like that! It was a pine marten, in the flesh. That might be the real advantage of hiking solo.
At the first crossing of the Dry Brook (haha) my hike came to a halt. There was nowhere to cross. People kept coming down the trail, and nobody would cross. Several groups turned around, and a few others milled around looking for alternative crossings. I hated the idea of turning around. I wasn’t going to hike up the Old Bridle Path, so it was either this or nothing. Was I really defeated so easily? Then it occurred to me to bushwhack up to the next crossing and get back on the trail. Well that worked perfectly. The rest of the crossings were higher and had less water.
Above treeline it was brutal. Fog socked everything in and the wind was blowing pretty good. I only saw two other people on my way over to Lafayette. Coming down the Greenleaf trail I met Kmac and forty8 who had been volunteering at the hut for the weekend. We chatted for a few minutes and they informed me they had been deterring people from hiking on the ridge as the wind was gusting at 50 mph. Whew! Well, I had been dressed for it, and was overheating a bit now. I continued down the trail at a good clip looking forward to getting something to eat.
Due to the fact that it rained all weekend, only a few photos are are here.
Part One... or Saturday
On Saturday morning, after deciding that a garbage bag skirt was the ticket of the day, Jessbee and I set out on the trail in search of the first stream, which we would then follow to the base of the slide. The stream was easy enough to follow and neither of us maintained any illusions about keeping our feet dry. The debris pile at the base of the slide was impressive to say the least, and the slide itself was massive. It was tame to begin with and we crossed the stream back and forth to follow the best way up. Hidden amongst the rocks Jess found a dirty but nice water bottle insulator complete with a bottle of something and a nice camp mug. She dumped out the “something” which was pretty nasty (see photo) and kept the stuff. Nice find!
The slide progressed up and made a turn, which marked the beginning of the steep stuff. From there we could see several sets of waterfalls above, each maybe 20 to 30 feet tall. The climbing was sketchy because there were so many slippery rocks, but it was impossible to tell which were slippery without actually testing them. Jess is damn mountain goat and was soon a bit ahead of me climbing away. I got freaked out and headed for the woods to whack my way up. Above the steep ledges and waterfalls we came out to a huge, steep talus field. Ten foot wide trenches were carved out of the loose stuff in obvious signs of recent sliding activity. The climbing was easier here, but possibly scarier. I found myself in the bottom of a small V of loose rocks. I was looking at a large boulder thinking how much fun it would be to roll it down the slide, and I almost did it, when it occurred to me that action might set off another slide. That slide would have been generally composed of, oh, I don’t know… the rocks I was standing on! Just then as I stepped all of the rocks shifted. I tried to climb out of the V and again all of the rocks shifted. Holy shit, I could be part of this slide! A little higher I noticed fracture lines (like snow) in the sand above there. Scary! Finally I arrived at the top of the slide where Jess had been waiting for me to catch up. There was a nice little cairn at the top with a blue rock that for a moment I thought was a tennis ball. The bushwhack was short and followed an obvious worn path which took us directly to the summit. Not bad.
After arriving back at the cars I tried to persuade Jess how much fun it would be to come hang out at a wet campsite for hot dogs and hot chocolate. I have no idea why she would turn down an offer like that!
Well, good thing she turned down that offer because at the campground was a note from a couple of somebodies who had wussed out and gone home!
I paced around the campground office trying to decide if I should just go home too when I remembered that I had originally been planning on camping by myself anyway! So I decided to stay. Part Two... or Sunday
It’s hard to get an early start when you’re by yourself and you have take down wet tarps and a tent. So I set out on the Falling Waters trail at about 10:30. At the trailhead I met a pair of guys waiting for the shuttle who informed me they had been hypothermic the day before coming from Galehead to the Greenleaf Hut. Fun stuff. A couple minutes down the trail and the biggest squirrel I’ve ever seen ran out 10 feet in front of me. Wait, squirrels don’t look like that! It was a pine marten, in the flesh. That might be the real advantage of hiking solo.
At the first crossing of the Dry Brook (haha) my hike came to a halt. There was nowhere to cross. People kept coming down the trail, and nobody would cross. Several groups turned around, and a few others milled around looking for alternative crossings. I hated the idea of turning around. I wasn’t going to hike up the Old Bridle Path, so it was either this or nothing. Was I really defeated so easily? Then it occurred to me to bushwhack up to the next crossing and get back on the trail. Well that worked perfectly. The rest of the crossings were higher and had less water.
Above treeline it was brutal. Fog socked everything in and the wind was blowing pretty good. I only saw two other people on my way over to Lafayette. Coming down the Greenleaf trail I met Kmac and forty8 who had been volunteering at the hut for the weekend. We chatted for a few minutes and they informed me they had been deterring people from hiking on the ridge as the wind was gusting at 50 mph. Whew! Well, I had been dressed for it, and was overheating a bit now. I continued down the trail at a good clip looking forward to getting something to eat.
Due to the fact that it rained all weekend, only a few photos are are here.
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