Mount Rainier: Indian Bar

The Wonderland Trail is a 93-mile loop that encircles Mount Rainier. One of the most beautiful and popular sections of this trail is the 18-mile east side from White River to Box Canyon. Between that 18 miles are the two most popular backcountry camps, Summerland and Indian Bar. This is the highest elevation stretch of the Wonderland Trail, and in some years parts of the trail will still be snow covered well into August.

As the summer was winding down and I had yet to hike this section of the Wonderland, I knew that had to change. Although I wasn't able to hike the entire 18-mile section, I decided that a long day hike was in order. The plan was to start at Box Canyon in the southern part of the park and hike to Indian Bar Camp, and back. It would be a long day, about 14.5 miles round trip and almost 3,000 feet of elevation gain.

I only came up with the plan as a spur-of-the-moment idea the prior day. I thought I would probably be on my own. Many of my hiking buddies had already completed their work seasons and headed home. The ones that were still around probably had to work that day, but I decided to go talk to some friends that also lived in Longmire (the Park community) to see if anyone might be up for it. As expected, most people that I asked weren't able to come along. However, I was able to convince my friend, Rachel, who had also been wanting to explore that section of the Wonderland. I was happy to have some company!

I picked Rachel up the next morning, and we headed out to Box Canyon (about an hour drive east of Longmire) to start the hike.

By this time of the year, the gloomy days were starting to outnumber the nice ones. This one was on the gloomier side, but it could have been a lot worse. I was still hopeful that we would still get some nice views.

Like many other hikes at Rainier, this one started off in old growth forest, before ascending switchbacks and opening up into wildflower meadows with stunted subalpine fir trees.

Although it was too cloudy to get vast, sweeping vistas, there were still nice views to be had.

 

Although it was getting late in the season, the high country still rewarded us with wildflowers aplenty. The bear grass was the first to catch our eye.

 Blooming bear grass:

Along the way, we started to see some large, fresh hoof tracks in the mud on both sides of the trail. We agreed that it appeared to be a large herd of elk. The tracks looked fresh enough to be from the same day. As we continued, we kept a lookout for a possible encounter, but finally the tracks veered away from the trail. A sighting would have been welcome, as I had only seen one elk all summer (which happened to be my first drive into the Park.)
 
The trail took as over rolling hills and through meadows. By now, we had gained most of the elevation that was needed but we were still ascending slightly. The more we gained, the more impressive the wildflowers became.
 
Lupine, pasqueflower seedheads, arnica, and false hellebore:

 The trail cut through several meadows similar to this one:

We seemed to be making good time on the trail. That thought was reaffirmed by this sight:

The last stretch of the trail descends into this basin, where Indian Bar camp is located!
 
As we approached the camp, there continued to be no lack of wildflowers, especially of the lupine variety:

 From there, it wasn't long before we arrived. This creek would mark our ending point:

Above the creek, looking down on a small waterfall:

It was still early in the day, and we were both really tempted to continue up the trail towards Summerland Camp. However, I had made plans with some friends for an "end of summer" get-together that evening and I didn't want to bail. I convinced myself that this would be our turnaround point after a lunch break.

When we were ready to start retracing our steps, the clouds were still stubborn about giving us great views, but the nearby ridgetops were barely visible. There were several waterfalls like this one trickling into the basin:

 

The hike back provided us with some more awesome scenery, and the clouds lifted just enough to give us the best views of the day.

I always notice things on the way back that were missed while hiking to my destination. Here are a couple of examples.

Bracted lousewort flower:

 A possible sign of a bear, clawing at the tree bark in search of bugs:

The hike back to the trailhead went by fast. As we descended back into the old growth, we knew we were getting close.

Here's a view looking up into the canopy of some huge Douglas fir trees:

We were obviously going to get back to the trailhead before I had planned. Rachel and I are both tree enthusiasts, so we took our time enjoying the big trees.
 
Amazingly, we finished the hike just after 4:00 P.M. Not bad for a 14.5 mile day hike.

It was one of my last hikes of my summer, and it proved to be a good one. Then again, you can't really go wrong at a place like Mount Rainier.

Mount Rainier: Camp Muir

As the summer was winding down, there was one hike that I hadn't completed, and that was bothering me. Camp Muir is considered to be one of the "classic" Rainier hikes, and the most popular high camp for mountaineers attempting to reach the summit.

My friend, Shelby and I had arranged plans to hike to Camp Muir together. We met up at the Paradise ranger station, and headed up the Skyline Trail. There were definitely better days that I could have chosen for this hike. It was September, which is the transition month between summer and fall in the pacific northwest. The number of sunny days had been dwindling over the past month, and this was one of those gloomy, foggy days. It certainly wasn't anything that we couldn't handle. The rain was nothing more than a light mist, but it seemed like it would be more of an endurance hike than a day that we'd remember for the scenery.

Hiking to Camp Muir is considered to be strenuous, and for good reason. Only part of the hike is on trail, and when the trail ends, you begin ascending a large snowfield. Depending on conditions, the snowfield can be fairly simple or very difficult to navigate across. Some people have unknowingly wandered off the snowfield during bad weather conditions, where they found themselves on a glacier, and in some serious trouble. Overall, the hike is 9.3 miles round trip with almost 5,000 feet of elevation gain (Muir itself is at 10188 feet). If this sounds like it's beyond your level of comfort or ability, then you probably should not attempt this hike.

We continued, plodding our way towards Camp Muir. Nothing but white and gray, the visibility was so bad that I began to wonder if we were headed in the right direction, but there only seemed like one way to go.

Finally, it seemed to be getting brighter. I glanced up through the low-lying clouds, and saw some sunlight trying to break through. As we continued, it became obvious that we were going to break through the clouds!

The brightness was almost blinding, but welcome nevertheless. Finally, some visibility!

The first glimpse of Rainier that we had all day:

We were just past anvil rock, and within an hour of Camp Muir.

Our view looking back to the south:

The experience of hiking on a cloudy, miserable day before busting through the clouds is truly unique, and something that I hadn't experienced before or since.

Glancing up the snowfield, I could just make out what appeared to be some kind of structures in the distance. This had to be Camp Muir.

Knowing that we actually had a view looking down on the clouds put me in a much better mood. The hike was paying off with something tangible, and proving to be more than simply the accomplishment of reaching Camp Muir.

By now, it was obvious that Camp Muir was ahead of us. The structures came into focus, and we started to see more people.

Finally, we made it.

This is the hut that is used by climbing rangers. Pretty cool!

For the first time, looking towards the top of  Rainier really gave me the perspective that I wasn't just looking "at it," but I was actually "on it."

In this next photo, the large rock in the center is called Gibraltar Rock, one of most obvious landmarks on The Mountain. Also, notice the rock wall to the right of Gibraltar. This is part of Cathedral Rocks. The route to the summit from Muir goes between Gibraltar and Cathedral (then eventually over another rockform, my favorite, Disappointment Cleaver). You can see this "cleaver" between Gibraltar and Cathedral in the second picture below).

In some areas, lone clouds were wisping past rocks, creating a smoke-like effect:

Looking back down the snowfield:

After snapping some more photos, it was time for a much needed mid-afternoon break. I decided to stay at Muir for about an hour before heading back down. Before we set out, Shelby had already made up her mind to spend the night at Muir. She was friends with Arlington, the on-duty climbing ranger who was stationed at Muir. Spending the night sounded fun, but I had a friend whose birthday party was that night, and I didn't want to miss out. It sounded like I'd be hiking back alone, which didn't bother me. I knew I'd be able to glissade down the snowfield in a fraction of the time it took to hike up. The low-visibility conditions below were concerning, but I shouldn't have to deal with them for long.

When I felt re-energized, I said my goodbyes to Shelby and Arlington, and started to venture back down the snowfield. I thought it would be a good idea to head down with some other folks that I had just started to head down as well. I followed them for a little while, but they were excruciatingly slow. Literally, "snail's pace" doesn't even begin to describe their lack of speed. I could barely stop my momentum to hike as slow as they were. I put up with it for a few minutes, but soon decided this was ridiculous. I passed them, and continued to glissade quickly down the snowfield.

Soon, I dropped beneath the cloud level and back into the familiar white and gray abyss. Despite the low visibility, there was enough boot pack from others that the route seemed obvious. At this rate, I'd be back in no time!

Eventually, I reached an area of the snowfield that seemed to split in two directions around a rock. Interesting. I didn't remember seeing this on my way up. By now, what was previously misty rain had turned into snow flurries, and the further I went beneath the cloud level, the darker it got. I analyzed the boot tracks on the snow. People appeared to be heading both directions around the rock. Maybe both routes rejoined somewhere down below.

I picked the seemingly more well-travelled direction (left), but it was hard to tell, as the snowfall was starting to cover up the tracks.

At first, the terrain seemed familiar, at least what I could see of it. I continued my rapid pace down the snowfield.

That didn't last long. Within minutes, the snowfield led me to a rocky area with some sketchy downclimbs. Looking around, I also started to see fewer and fewer boot tracks. Was that because nobody had been this way, or were people's tracks getting covered by the snow? Obviously people had come this way. I had just seen their tracks minutes earlier, but now there seemed to be no obvious way to go.

By now, the snow flurries had turned into a full-on blizzard - a whiteout.

I continued, and reached an open area that had crater-like rocks sticking out of the snow. This couldn't be right. I looked around for any sign of others who might have hiked this direction, and saw nothing. I looked back at my own tracks and realized that if I was going the wrong way and needed to turn around, my tracks would be completely covered if I didn't do it soon. I didn't want to be blindly retracing my steps (with no actual steps to follow) during whiteout conditions. I don't want to say I hit the panic button, but I wasn't far from it. I needed to turn back, and turn back now.

Luckily, my tracks were still intact enough to follow them back. However, I still had some ground to cover to get back to the "fork" in the snowfield that had led me astray. Hopefully I could follow them until I reached some familiar ground.

I retraced my steps until I was finally back to my faulty turnoff. Now what? Should I try and head the other direction down the snowfield? (Which now seemed like the obvious route). Or, should I play it safe and head back to Camp Muir and spend the night? I didn't have overnight gear with me, but I'm sure the climbing ranger had some extra stuff stashed away. I decided that heading back up would be the wiser choice. Conditions weren't getting any better, and the day wasn't getting any earlier.

Just then, I remembered that I brought a two-way radio with me, just in case. I took it out and called up to Camp Muir, letting Arlington know that I would be heading back up to spend the night (while trying to sound as calm, cool, and collected as possible).

I made my way up the snowfield, passing a few other people who were heading down. I thought about tagging along with them, but at that point, I had already made up my mind to head back to Muir.

It was a relief (yet again) when I broke through the clouds and could see the structures from camp up in the distance. I never thought the word "civilization" would cross my mind at 10,000 feet elevation, alongside an active cascade volcano, but after (almost) getting lost, that's kind of how I felt.

As I made it back to Camp Muir, I was greeted by Arlington and Shelby. I was pretty embarrassed to be back, but even more relieved to finally sit down after hiking there...twice.

We went inside the ranger hut, where Arlington made dinner for me and Shelby while we hung out with Ted, the extremely entertaining maintenance guy (RIP Ted!). I changed into the few articles of dry clothing that I had left, and relaxed for the first time all day. 

Later that evening, I went outside to see what kind of view the sunset was offering. I wasn't disappointed.

Notice Mount Adams above the clouds, and if you look really closely to the right, you can even see Mount Hood in Oregon, barely sticking up.

Another view, looking down on a blanket of clouds as far as the eye can see. Again, look closely towards the left side of the horizon, and you'll see the flat-topped Mount St. Helens barely poking up:

And to think, I wouldn't have gotten those views if I hadn't lost my way, and headed back to Muir. I guess it all worked out.

As bedtime drew closer, Arlington hooked me up with some overnight gear (sleeping bag and pad). I was able to get a floor spot in the public hut, careful not to waken the climbers who would be rising early in the morning, long before any sign of sunlight. For some reason, I had a hard time sleeping that night. For some reason, I didn't care.

The next morning, I got packed up and went outside. I was shocked by how warm it felt. It must have just seemed that way from the high elevation, as the giant icicles hanging from Gibraltar Rock indicated otherwise.

 Looking in the direction of the snowfield, the clouds were still a sheet of white below us.

It wasn't long before I located Shelby. We agreed that after eating breakfast, we'd head back down together.

As we started back down, I snapped a few more pics, knowing that the cloud monster would soon be swallowing us.

Nisqually Glacier: 

We dropped below the clouds, and before long, came to the rock where I had made my mishap the previous day. This time we were approaching it from much further to the right, and it seemed pretty obvious which was the right way. The visibility wasn't great, but not nearly as bad as it was the day before.

We eventually caught up to a guided climbing group that was heading down (which was additionally reassuring). We passed by them, and from there it was increasingly obvious that we were going the right way.

Sliding down the icy snowfield was fun, and it didn't take long before we were back at the Skyline Trail.

I thought this sign was fitting given the previous day's adventure:

I know it's too small to read, but it basically warns hikers of the potential dangers of the Muir Snowfield, and states that even "experienced climbers" have died on it.

Naturally, I needed a picture with it:



Once back on trail, it was pretty smooth sailing for the rest of the way (although the knees were pretty sore). When we got back to the parking lot, I made a quick stop at the visitor center and checked in with my co-workers (who I had contacted by radio the previous night to let know I wouldn't be back that evening), before heading home.

A warm shower and dry clothes have rarely felt better than they did that afternoon. It was truly an adventurous two days.

So, I made it to Camp Muir and back (with some other stuff that happened in between). It was a great hike to finally get out of the way as my summer at Mount Rainier came closer to an end.

Mount Rainier: Tolmie Peak Lookout & Spray Park

Part I

Of all the amazing places I visited during my summer at Mount Rainier, perhaps the most impressive of all was the Tolmie Peak fire lookout. There are four fire lookouts in the Park, and although they're no longer utilized for that purpose, they are still available for overnight use for park employees. Tolmie was so impressive that I actually made an overnight trip there twice, with my friends Shenon, Ted, and Russ.

 

My two trips to Tolmie were just over a month apart, and it was really interesting to see the ecological changes of the area in such a short time frame. The first trip presented a boom of avalanche lillies, while on the next trip there wasn't a single avalanche lilly to be found, and the other types of flowers - lupines, paintbrush, etc.- were already past their peak bloom (however, still impressive). The constant and rapid changes that present themselves are truly wonders to behold. A brief window for a flower to become polinated by a passing insect, just to wither away, weeks, or even days later.

 

The pictures you will see here are a combination between my two trips (note: the avalance lilies were from my first trip, the lupines and paintbrush were from the second trip. Beargrass was observed during both trips).

 

To access the trail, we had to drive out of the Park's Nisqually Entrance, and back in, via state route 165. The last five miles of this road is dirt, but it is easily accessed during the summer months. The road dead ends at a large parking area next to Mowich Lake, the largest and deepest lake in the Park. This is where the trailhead is accessed.

The first part of the trail skirts around Mowich Lake to the north, before eventually turning in an easterly direction. Before long, the trail began to ascend switchbacks as we hiked through old growth forest. This part of the hike was fairly uneventful, but I knew that something outstanding was waiting ahead.

 

We eventually started to see vegetation changes, as the trees became smaller and more stunted as we reached higher country. After gaining steadily for about three miles, our heavy packs (loaded with overnight gear and tasty beverages) were becoming tiresome. We were finally relieved by flatter terrain, and the opening of several small meadows.

 

We were awarded by an impressive array of of avalanche lilies:

By contrast, lupine, paintbrush, and arnica on our second trip to Tolmie:

Soon, a beautiful subalpine lake came into view. This was Eunice Lake.

 

Shenon and Ted hanging out next to Eunice:

Towering above the lake on a ridgetop was Tolmie Peak lookout, our goal for the day.

It looked so close; only about a mile to go. A very steep mile. I could only imagine how awesome the view would be once we reached the top.

 

After taking a break at Eunice Lake, it was time to hit the trail again. At the very least, we wanted to reach the top by sunset. Along the way, we discovered some ponds, this one providing a reflection of Rainier peaking up, just above the trees.  

The avalanche lilies were out in full force.

As we began to ascend the ridge towards the lookout, Rainier, which was previously obstructed by trees, came into view in its entirety. Eunice Lake was also visible below us.

The large, white flowers in the foreground are called bear grass. Unmistakable with its very tall stalk, it was one of the few flowers that was present during both of our trips to Tolmie Peak. Although the plant is grasslike, bear grass is actually a member of the lily family. If you look closely at the flowers you'll see that they look similar to avalanche lilies:

Nearby, we also discovered some vibrantly colored tiger lilies, one of my personal favorites! This was one of only a couple of locations that I saw these all summer.

It wasn't long before we reached the top of the ridge, thoroughly worn out from the mile of vertical elevation from Eunice Lake. From there, it was a flat ridgetop hike to reach the lookout.

 

We arrived just before sunset, shed our bags, and liberally applied bug spray (the mosquitos were at full force!). We admired the view from the balcony of the lookout, which was up a single flight of stairs. As the sun began to set, we knew that this would be the real highlight of our trip.

 

The sun cast a pink alpenglow on Rainier and the surrounding horizon. What a gorgeous evening!

Rainier with Eunice Lake below.

 Even Mount St. Helens was visible far in the distance.

I was unable to capture the rest of the evening on camera. It was spent stargazing, admiring a bright orange crescent moon, and enjoying the company of some good friends in an unbelievable place. I'll never forget it. 

During our first trip in to Tolmie, I had to work the following morning so an early start was necessary. The sunrise that morning was every bit as good as the sunset from the previous night. 

Writing about my experiences with Tolmie Peak Lookout really brings me back there. I'd love to return some day. Few places have satisfied my craving for outdoor beauty quite the same way since.

 

Me, Shenon, and Ted inside of the lookout (me on the right): 

 

I'll leave you with this last photo. If this doesn't make sense to you, that's okay. Explaining it would be less meaningful than just letting it be, and hoping it brings some smiles.

___________________________________________________________________Part II

On our second trip to Tolmie Peak, none of us had to work the next day and the plan was to hike to another area nearby called Spray Park. For some reason, I was the only one that woke up feeling energized, and my friends all decided they weren't up for the trip. I was actually excited for it, and we had taken two cars to the trailhead, so things were still in place for me to do the solo hike.

 

After packing up and saying our goodbyes to Tolmie, we hiked back to the parking area. As we arrived, I saw a couple of familiar faces getting out of a car. It was Sam (a park ranger who also lived in Longmire) and Terra, who worked for the GSI company in the lodge. We asked what they were up to, and sure enough, they were also hiking to Spray Park. They were happy to let me join them on the adventure.

 

There are two different ways to hike into Spray Park from Mowich Lake. One of the routes follows a trail that doesn't appear on most maps (highlighted in yellow on the map below), which goes over an area called Knapsack Pass before descending into Spray Park. The other option would be following the Wonderland Trail. We decided it would be best to make it a loop hike, starting on the Knapsack Pass route, and finishing back on the Wonderland Trail near Mowich Lake.

Despite not being a "mapped" trail, it was pretty well established and easy to follow. As we hiked, we passed a waterfall that provided us with a welcome cooldown on the warm, clear day.

 

The trail ascended gently for a while before nearing Knapsack Pass. At this point, we obviously had a bit of a workout ahead of us.

 

Here's a look at the pass that we needed to ascend:

The photo makes it looks slightly more gnarly than it actually was, but there was still some huffing and puffing involved (at least on my part) on the way up.

 

As we neared the rocky ridgetop, I needed a break and turned around to see our progress. Mowich Lake was looming in the distance.

When we finally reached the top, we found a place to relax for a lunch break while enjoying some nice views of the newly visible Rainier.

 There were some cool rock formations nearby, too.

After our lunch break, we descended the other side of the pass. The trail became harder to follow, as there were some huge snow patches that appeared to be covering it. Still, we continued in the general direction of Spray Park, hiking over snow and following other people's tracks. Eventually, the snow patches disappeared and we rediscovered the trail.

 

Finally, we started to see more people as we reached the trail's junction with the Wonderland Trail. We continued west on the Wonderland while enjoying some views of Rainier, and a nice display of wildflowers; mostly lupine and magenta paintbrush.  

After enjoying the flowers and scenery, we reversed direction on the Wonderland Trail and started to make our way back to Mowich Lake to complete our loop.

 

While on our way back, we took a small detour to Spray Falls:

We hung out here for a while before continuing back towards the trailhead.

 

From here, we were all a little anxious to get back so we picked up our pace, and covered quite a bit of distance pretty fast. Sam and Terra had Tolmie Peak Lookout reserved that night so they still had some hiking to do.

 

As for me, the back-to-back days of hiking and the overnight stay at Tolmie left me in desperate need of a warm shower.

 

As I drove back to Longmire that afternoon, I was feeling tired yet completely content. It had been two days and one night of amazing scenery, great company, and memories created that I'll never forget.