MIDDLE FORK HIKE

Saturday morning was an early one after hosting a surf and turf dinner for Leigh’s friend Becky.  Great dinner, conversation, early to bed, then up just after 5am Saturday morning.  Packs had been packed and re-packed and Leigh was ready to go.

Driving out the Middle Fork road took about 40 minutes. The Middle Fork of the Snoqualmie, once was pristine with old growth forests.  In the mid 1800's it was logged and mined, and once those two activities played out, it became an area of lawlessness.  When I moved out to North Bend in the early 90’s,  we’d occasionally hear automatic gun fire from that direction.  The Middle Fork Road was a gravel, rutted mess strewn with abandoned cars, appliances, and the occasional derelict trailer used as a Meth lab.  Police would only go down there only with two separate patrol cars.  Then a few things happened.  A Texas couple, having only arrived in the Valley 4 years previously had lunch on an abandoned washing machine after a hike in the early 90’s.  Rather than saying “someone oughtta do something”, Wade Holden started to clean out the abandoned stuff.  Some 60 cars, countless appliances, and a non-profit later, ‘Friends of the Trail’ has removed over 2,000 tons of debris from the Middle Fork and surrounding areas.  Other non-profits joined forces to create a long range plan for the area and after years of logging, mining, dumping, and neglect, the area is well on its way to be a county treasure.

It’s beautiful now back in the valley and the road, under construction for many years, should be completed this year.   It’s a wonderful road that punches deep into the Cascades.  Towards the end there’s a nice campground and at the end there’s parking for the hikers and car campers.  The end of the road is still a bit of a zoo, but everyone is having a good time and no one is shooting anymore. 

Our packs were hoisted onto our backs and off we went. Leigh’s book said there were good camp sites just beyond Otter Falls, roughly 5.5 to 6 miles in.

Early on, the trail resembles a road.  Which it once was.

 One of the dozens of streams cascading down

 The navigator.  Leigh always hikes with maps.  So do I, but she pays more attention to them.

 Ferns were all over. Bracken, Sword, but lots and lots of deer ferns.

Just beyond Big Creek, we started to look for campsites.  We found one -- just off the trial, but no other campsites were around.  We didn't see another soul from around 4pm on Saturday to mid morning Sunday.  Perfect.

This was about as the middle of the Cascades as you could get.  Roughly equal distance between highway 2 and highway 90.  With a whole lot of nothing -- and a whole lot of everything -- in between.

view from my nap

 When we reached  our camp site, we set the tent up and then as the temperature was rising, we decided to not pursue the plan to hike up to Snoqualmie Lake. That would wait till morning.  So at 11am, with nothing to do, Leigh read and I laid down on my sleeping pad and looked up.  The branches wove an interesting pattern.  I recall pondering the pattern for a few minutes. Then woke up an hour and a half later.  Perfect mid forest nap.

 Split boulder of granite.

 Otter falls from the lake below

 A visitor on my hat

 Leigh cooling off.  Her singular regret from the hike was not diving into the water.

 A hound intent upon breaking the stick into itty bitty pieces.

 

 Unbeknownst to Leigh, I had squirreled away a box of wine for happy hour.  In our camp chairs with no one around, we had our little happy hour.

 Leigh showing off her Kevlar bear sack Andy had given her.

 Breakfast -- oatmeal with all the trimmings.

 We hiked about a half mile deeper into the valley and started the climb to Snoqualmie Lake.

 Moss!

 Snoqualmie Lake view

 Trilliums

 The view near our campsite.

Near the end of the trail.  Leigh seems quite happy.  I'm thinking about sore muscles.  All in all a good hike,  18 miles all in all.  Fun weekend!!

R2AK pics from the Thursday morning start

Below are pictures from the start of the 2017 Race to Alaska.  Raining lightly with little wind, the human powered craft took command and were the first to reach Victoria.  A front was forecasted for later in the afternoon with winds rising sharply from near zero to 25 - 30 knots. 

As teams had 36 hours to get to Victoria, decisions had to be made.  From a macro view, there were three choices:

1.  Go, but with the knowledge that your boat speed can out run the front and get to Victoria before the blow

2.  Go, but without the knowledge that you can out run the front

3. Stay or work your way on the US side then hunker down and make the crossing Friday

The faster human powered craft were in a position to control their own destiny.  The weather appeared a little late in developing by perhaps an hour or 90 minutes, but the faster human powered craft clearly had a good day.  They made it across in time.

The teams that either stayed or made their way to Dungeness Spit also had a good day.  Knowing what was to come, they displayed seamanship well. 

The more seaworthy craft with slower options for powering their craft without wind likely believed they could take on the wind and deal with it.  This fits a large bandwidth of the boats at the start.   They either were the larger craft or the well designed smaller mono hulls that can take a blow, albeit with some discomfort.  Shorten sail, put in the hatch boards to prevent water from coming into the interior and sail conservatively.  As my father often said, there's nothing more seaworthy than a tightly corked bottle.

There was a segment of the fleet that were largely open sailboats of various types with slower means of self propulsion.  They were fine getting into and out of harbors and ok for paddling/rowing/pedaling with no wind and slower speeds, but can not sustain speeds more than 3 or so knots without wind.  This group had a tough go on Thursday.

I once heard a talk by Jim Whittaker on the topic of 'experience'.  Jim was the first American to summit Mount Everest.  Now in his 80's, the reflection of 'experience' went back to his teens and 20's when he climbed with his twin brother Lou.  They occasionally worked themselves into devilish positions while climbing where only risky moves would save them.  Clearly they lived to tell the tale, but they'd carefully review which of the earlier decisions led them into the predicament, learn from it, and vow not to make that decision again.  That's how experience is earned.

Kristen, from team Kelp texted me after they landed at Oak Bay.  They were one of the small boats with slower means of human propulsion, but their 20' boat, to my eye, looked  sound and if sailed well would service them fine.  She indicated the sea states were difficult and they were unable to sail their intended course.  She said that while they didn't hit any, they learned a lot about lee shores.  They ended up tying at Oak Bay -- not what they wanted, but a smart move.  She and Elena gained experience.  I suspect it will serve them well.

Two other teams required assistance and their stories will come out in time.  One small boat overturned.  He apparently self rescued, but  ended up in Friday Harbor and likely was towed in.   The open aluminum boat and another vessel ended up  on San Juan Island.

As I write, the ones that stayed in Port Townsend are riding the ebb out to the straits with a much better forecast.  I have a hunch experience played into their decision making.