(Unfortunately, I thought the camera was in Clara's backpack so I settled on the video camera to document this hike. Turns out the camera was idle at home the whole time. Argh.)
When Dan had his shoulder surgeries the docs said he could do nothing that might result in him falling and landing on the shoulder. Though I'm not having the same type of surgery, the prospect of losing the winter hiking and snowshoeing season is still quite real. So sucks.
However, I was able to parlay the grief into one last trip into stupidity. I had planned to do something last weekend, but the weather was too nasty even for me so I delayed. The doc goes in on Monday so there was no other opportunity than today to get outside. I toyed with the Middle Fork upstream from Dingford to the Dutch Miller Trailhead, but since the forecast promised rain for most of the day I figured I might as well turn the rain into snow and head to a higher elevation.
The last time I was at the old Bandera Trailhead it was being converted into the Ira Spring Trailhead in memory of perhaps the greatest hiking evangelist in the Northwest. (Most of the trail guides for the area are written by him and although his estimates of required time are a bit off for me, the descriptions are great.) That time I was there to hike the unofficial Putrid Pete's Peak trail, but this time I would actually try out the new Ira Spring trail.
The drive to the trailhead is only about 11 miles east on I-90 and a couple of miles on a very good dirt road. The freeway was clear early on a Saturday morning, but I did have to stop on the dirt road to let a black bear cub cross the road. I sat for a few moments hoping to see the sow, but no luck. Seeing a bear had to be a good omen, though.
When I arrived at the trailhead at 9am there was nobody else there. I geared up and got Tokul out of the truck just as another couple of guys showed up. Although I am supposed to be annoyed at others on the trail I was secretly relieved that someone else was there and that they were going to the same spot I was. At least there'd be somebody to help me get off the mountain should tragedy strike.
Tokul and I set off at a decent pace, but I fully expected to be lapped by the two who had just shown up. The new Ira Spring trail follows the old Bandera trail past the old Mason Lake trail and only diverges from the old Bandera trail when it starts its dreaded staircase up the hillside. The new trail continues on at a sedate pace along the southern face of Bandera Mountain with a few lazy switchbacks. There was some intermittent rain and wind along the way, but for the most part it was dry hiking.
At the top of the ridge we found the memorial plaque mounted on a boulder. After paying our respects we headed down into the Mason Lake basin where we saw the first real snow. Since there was nobody ahead of us Tokul had been off leash for a while and she went ballistic after we crossed the ridge. She found a couple of mud holes in the trail and splashed around before settling a bit.
We arrived at the lake where we found some snow, but much less than the last time I was there in May of 2003. We paused very briefly, long enough to fish a powerbar out of my pocket, and then continued along the lakeside. Soon we were at the junction with the trails heading east to Island and Pratt Lakes and west to Thompson Lake. Along the way to Thompson Lake was Mt. Defiance.
Wait... "Thompson Lake?" This sounds familiar. You have a good memory. Thompson Lake was a stop on the failed PCT trainer in June of 2003. We had planned to do a 35 mile loop from the Granite Lakes, past Thompson Lake, over Mt. Defiance, camp at Pratt Lake, and exit through the Pratt River valley to the Middle Fork Gateway trailhead. We were turned back by snow before we got to Mt. Defiance and stayed the night at Thompson Lake.
As we started up toward Mt. Defiance the terrain got better and better. The trees dripped with moss and the mist limited visibility to a couple hundred feet. The trail was soft underfoot, but not too sloppy. As we passed the western edge of Lake Kulla Kulla the patches of snow were mostly unified into a semi-frozen highway of ice. A sort of tiny hail began to fall which would be with us for the rest of the day.
The trail climbed quickly in a series of switchbacks before adopting the less round-about route of the spine of the mountain. I had only about 15 pounds of gear on my back which is about half what I usually hike with on a daily basis (Clara is slowly putting on the weight even if she is still way smaller than her fellow 19 month olds) so I felt light on my feet and we made good time. The trail abandonned the spine and began a traverse across the exposed southern face of the mountain, which also happened to be where the weather was coming from.
We turned a last corner to find the summit trail and the true ferocity of the storm blowing right in our faces. Lovely. Clouds erased the hillside above us before being ripped to shreds by a gust of wind and snow. Tokul showed no fear and started up the steep trail so I figured I ought to follow her example and up we went. The trail was icy in places, but still quite safe. It wove in and out of trees stunted by the cold before ending on a rocky platform in the clouds. It had to be the top since there was no place else to go, but the view left something to be desired.
After the exertion of getting to the top I took a moment to relax. It was then that I realized, "Damn! It's cold." I considered just getting back on the trail, but decided to suffer for a moment to be happier for the long run. I shed my rain jacket and stood fumbling in my pack for my fleece in just a t-shirt. (Just writing this made me shiver again.) With fleece and jacket back on and a fleece hat and gloves protecting the rest of me I took some time to video the area. Not much to see and although the camera claims to take still photographs they are of really low quality. Argh.
We started back down which was actually a much slower process because of the slippery footing. I expected to see the other hikers on their way up, but we made it down to the Thompson Lake trail before seeing them so perhaps they turned back... dunno. I took some more video and then packed it all away for the descent.
About half way along the traverse Tokul started looking up the hill. I turned to see the other hikers a few hundred feet up the hill. They had chosen a very aggressive route straight up. Intentionally or not, they were really climbing where I had chosen to hike. (I like my choice better.) Tokul decided she needed to try their approach so she bounded up the hill in spite of my attempts to keep her with me. We tried to talk over the wind, but that didn't work all that well.
As I was waiting for Tokul to come back down a group of three hardcore climbers showed up with ice axes and ropes. They said they usually run the ridge all the way up to the summit, but had decided on the trail I took today. I wished them a good hike and when Tokul returned we headed down.
The storm had progressed while Tokul and I were up atop the hill and the snow was starting to pile up a bit. When we arrived at Mason Lake we could see sheets of it blowing across the surface. I snugged on my hat, put up the hood, and zipped up tight. We really stepped into it when we crossed over the ridge and out of the lake basin.
Near the bottom of the switchbacks I came upon another pair of hikers and sat Tokul to let them pass. "Doesn't really look like gaiters weather, John," came the unexpected voice. I looked up to see it was my college roommate Nick and his wife Carrie. Seeing them on the trail wasn't really all that surprising until you consider that in college nobody would have ever pegged either of us as outdoors enthusiasts. Nerds or dorks, maybe, but not hikers. Oh well. They were headed up to Mason Lake so they probably didn't need gaiters, but I'm glad I had mine on. I passed only one other pair of hikers on the way down.
I hadn't really looked at the time since leaving the car at 9am. I knew I had to be off the trail by 5pm to avoid hiking in the dark (though I did have a headlamp), but I was doing well enough to beat that. I didn't expect to be back at the car by 1pm, though. Woo hoo. 10 miles and 3,500 feet of gain in just four hours is pretty good for me. It probably would have been a lot longer had I had the camera or a heavier pack, but maybe this is a lesson. Take fewer pictures and become an ultra-light hiker. Well, maybe just become an ultra-light hiker. I don't think I could part with the camera.
Mt. Defiance joins several other trails in the area marked for a repeat climb in good weather: Dirty Harry's Peak, Mt. Si's Haystack, and Mt. Tenerrife. Each of these has been completed only with zero visibility except the Haystack which I haven't even had an opportunity to try. With any luck, I'll even get to finish the Granite Lakes to Pratt Lake loop one of these days, but I'll do that when the snow's less.
)
