Enchanted Valley in Olympic National Park in the Sunshine

Backpacking into a rain forest sounds like a miserable time.  At Lake Quinault Lodge, near the Enchanted Valley trailhead, a stylized rain gauge goes beyond 200 inches.  Last year hit a record, as over 160 inches of rain fell from October to May.  As a teenager, I spent 14 days in the Olympics in August and encountered 13 days of precipitation.    However, near perfect conditions existed this July as six of us hiked deep into the heart of the rain forest. During our weekend trip up to the meadows of the Enchanted Valley--nary a drop of rain fell.  We only had to contend with a heavy dew which made the rainfly helpful, and justified the extra weight.

We chose to take on the nearly 14 miles of ups and downs in two days, camping at O'Neil Creek the first night.  After all, it's a long drive to the trailhead from Seattle.  That being said, we were impressed by svelte trail runners arriving before we finished breakfast by the chalet on the second morning of our hike.  They had left parking lot only hours earlier.

 

O'Neil Creek

O'Neil is not a particularly great place to camp.  Bugs were moderate, thanks to a breeze. Tent sites are set along the stream amidst the salmonberry and nettles.  I suppose the privy might be deemed a plus though it would never earn George Costanza's approval, especially by late July.  My recommendation: go a little further on the first day, and camp among the maples at Pyrite Creek.  If you think you can make the 13.7 miles in a day given the modest elevation increase, be forewarned, the trail is a long roller coaster trending higher.  The guidebooks call the elevation gain 1700 feet, but it plays much steeper.

 

Pyrite Creek

The Washington Conservation Corps is doing good work on the trail, cutting through downed trees and repairing washouts.  A bridge is still out at No Name Creek that requires some interesting detouring involving boulders and logs. Our crew of senior hikers found it quite doable. Ironically, it was on the high bridge before the valley where a hiker in a different party broke her ankle stepping off in the late afternoon.  We were able to assist her and her husband to camp.  Thanks again to the WCC who hiked up to her at daybreak the next morning and arranged an evacuation. 

Mt. Anderson 

Despite the challenges, Enchanted Valley, is, well, magical.  We camped only one night there in the whisper of waterfalls and snowy peaks that encircle a bit of Shangri-la.  Bluebells dot the meadows and blue huckleberries sustain birds, bears, and hikers in forest shadows above.   We were hoping to encounter some bigger wildlife at a safe distance.  Both bear and elk were reported the day before, but alas, no luck. 

Bridge before entering the valley

For the backpackers interested in the best gear, one of our fellowship, Ken, brought a Platypus water filter system that provided clean water for all six of us in camp.  No pumping required.  Gravity does the work in almost no time.  Ken's one caveat on the Platypus: backwash the filter after every use to prevent glacial silt from building up.

I was impressed by the ease and quickness of Rob's Jetboil stove in the mornings.  While my Whisper Lite was still warning up with a "soccer ball-sized flame,"  Rob was enjoying his breakfast.  His Jetboil features push-button ignition.  

After breakfast, we hiked up valley and hugged the largest Western Hemlock, about 2 1/2 miles from the chalet.  The sign for it has rotted off its post, and it lies on the left side of the trail.  The tree itself lives on down a side trail towards the river.  It's been diminished by windstorms.  Still, its stands a girthy testimony to a millennium of life.  The spruce record holder is easier to access on the drive out as a roadside attraction, a mile or so from the ranger station. 

 

O'Neil Camp  (photo by A. Olson)

The boarded-up chalet still stands.  Heroic measures to save it in 2014 by moving it away from the river may well be in vain, as the Quinault, in storm rage continues to devour the meadow, and threaten the historic building. The Park Service's stance currently, I was told, is to let nature run its course. I recommend making the pilgrimage soon before 1931 lodge is torn apart by the river.

We would have enjoyed another night in meadow, and perhaps day-hiked up to Anderson Pass, but we only paid for three nights in the woods.

  

Crossing the Creek (photo by A. Olson)

If you are planning a hike in the Olympics, it's important to remember that rain patterns differ from place to place radically.  In the shadow of the rain forest is one of the driest places in the state: the town of Squim, located just east of the Olympic Mountains.  Conversely, the Hoh Rainforest, is the rainiest place in the contiguous U.S.  Time of year also matters.  While I realize rain can calm nerves as it nourishes the forest, four or five days of liquid sunshine can certainly dampen your spirits as well as your all of your gear. Fortunately, most of the rain falls between October to May.   In the Pacific Northwest, near drought like conditions prevail from July to mid-September.  This suggests if you are going to hike in the Olympics, and you appreciate sunny skies, the time to hike is July. Naturally, a tropical disturbance 3,000 miles away can undermined even the best almanac's rain predictions, based on historic weather patterns. As we learned in scouts, be prepared for any contingency, even if your trip is in July.

When hiking into the Enchanted Valley, you are required to pay for backcountry camping at the Lake Quinault Ranger Station ($8 a night per person), and stuff all of your food into a bear-proof container. If you don't have one, you must borrow one from the rangers when you pay your fees.   This new requirement seems to have improved a chronic bear problem that existed only a few years ago in the valley.