Getting Past the Snoqualmie Pass Crowds

View of Rattlesnake Lake from the ledge

On a recent morning hike with my hiking buddy Gary up Rattlesnake Ledge, we encountered a phenomenon I had previously only heard about but never experienced--the stereophonic day-tripper.  A thumping bass could be heard around the next switchback.  As we approached, we discovered a jolly band of twenty-somethings struggling up the hill.  The alpha dawg had small but powerful speakers attached to his rucksack.  Apparently, our new urban hikers come complete with their own sound track they feel compelled to share with the rest of the world.    The dance music, in the right context, might have been fun, but on the trail it was an annoyance.  Luckily for us, the self-appointed MC of the trek and his posse were not in the best shape, so we were soon able to leave the noise behind.  However,  on the short but popular trail we caught up with another boogie monster within ten minutes.    As we passed this dude, too,  I wondered why he didn't use earbuds.  New metal doesn't seem compatible with the atmosphere.   Personally, I would rather hear the birds, the wind, or, of course, another one of Gary's lectures on the various geologic phenomenon we encounter along the way than screaming angst from der fatherland.

The popularity of hiking has increased tremendously in last several years.  Simultaneously, Seattle's booming economy is drawing more people to the Puget Sound region--sort of like a black hole sucking in galaxies. The Rainier factor brings out the nature lover in the legions of the new comers. Whether they hail from flat and bug infested lands east of Montana or writhing freeways of SoCal, not long after they arrive, many of the transplants discover nature.  Of course, this means that the once lonesome trails turn into Disneyland lines, particularly on the weekends along the I-90 corridor. To be honest with you, it has dampened my former missionary zeal for hiking.  Now I am inclined to a quieter Zen approach.  Like a savvy traveler, I don't want my favorite destination ruined by popularity.

It is absolutely the true that popularity has its price.  Litter and trampling of meadows have grown more common.  Feeding of wildlife, noise and just generally bad trail manners all are coming to your favorite hike. What can be done?  On an individual level, we can adjust when and where we hike.  A lot of my friends won't hike on the weekend, especially around Snoqualmie Pass.  They leave early midweek in an attempt to find solitude.   If they do hike on a weekend, they head to the Olympics or North Cascades.   For folks working a traditional week, this can be difficult.  They must hike early, or backpack beyond the maddening crowds.

A pretty good day-hiking book by John Zilly, called, Beyond Mt. Si suggests hiking on less popular trails.  Ironically, since the book was published in 2003, most of the alternatives suggested have become too popular, too.  Blame social media.    It is easy for newcomers and neophytes to learn about hikes on their own.  In fact, the Washington Trail Association (WTA)  web page creates tremendous wear and tear on trails they want to protect.

In the old days, friends and hiking groups introduced folks to the outdoors.  In the process, they taught the hiking ethic.  Without a guide, it seems that new hikers are heading into the woods without a clue.  Not only is this potentially destructive, but it can dangerous.  I have been on some trails where I have come across hikers not carrying a ounce of water let alone the rest of the ten essentials.

As experienced hikers, we need to teach the ethic of leave no trace.  As the leader of a high school hiking club, I gently remind my students to pick up and pack out everything, even their orange peels and bread crusts.  One boy told me, as he peeled his orange, it will biodegrade . . . eventually.   I responded by suggesting that no one is interested in communing with old eggshells, apple cores, and orange peels from this season's hikers.  We want the next party to feel as if they are stopping in pristine wilderness.

Better signage at the trailheads could also help. Friendly, but pointed reminders, could teach different aspects of outdoor ethics and etiquette at different trailheads.  The "Leave No Trace" lesson at Rattlesnake might focus on turning off the music.  At Granite Mountain, it might emphasize not picking wild flowers.  In the Issaquah Alps, letting the gray jays feed off of deer ticks instead of your trail mix would be beneficial to trail travelers and feathered friends alike.

Finally, we need to build more trails to keep up with the growth of the population and the interest in the outdoors.  Alternate routes to lakes and summits could diffuse hikers and create greater solitude.  New trails to new destinations could be blazed.  Working with the State and Forest Service, the WTA, Mountaineers, or Scouts, could provide a real service by increasing the miles of trails available.  The rest of us can contribute money, time, or both to make it sure happen.