Gothic Basin in the heat, again!

Austere and other-worldly landscape of Gothic Basin

On every hike, sweaty hikers working their way up the hill will ask some variation of the question, "How far?"  to folks already on their way down. On the steep, dusty Gothic Basin trail, desperation sharpens the edge of the question.  That was especially true today, as smoke tinged the air.

Haze from Wild Fires Above Gothic Basin

As the guide points out, the old miner's trail goes up in a hurry after the first mile or so, and doesn't let up until you reach the basin.  Nearly three thousand feet of vertical over three miles on rough trail makes this hike far more difficult than the numbers indicate.  If you want to add some parkour to the endurance test of the first half of the hike, continue on to Foggy Lake.  On the way, you'll follow cairns over boulders and glacier smooth rock to slip down. When we finally reached the lake, we heard the plunges of plenty of outdoor enthusiasts looking for relief from the heat in the snow-fed water.

Filtered water from a snow-fed stream cools down hot hikers.

Here are five important notes from today's hike to Gothic Basin:  

1.  We went through a lot of water and filtered more at the lake and at the falls where it was cool and refreshing.

2.  The trail is dusty, steep, and rugged before the basin.  It is some work.

3.  At the basin, we stayed left of the tarns and rocky prominence to get to the lake, and found it to be a better route, at least in late summer.  We went back the other way, and were saddened by the sight of the damned (who stayed right of the tarns) grunting and cursing their way up a very steep, Sisyphean trace of glacial till and boulders.

4.  Be very careful with your dog.  Animal rescue was on their way up the trail as we were heading down the hill.  They were trying to reach an injured dog whose paws were singed by the hot rocks of the basin.  If you can't hold your hand against the rock for 5 seconds, your dogs pads with burn.  I was told by one of the volunteer rescuers that the rocks can reach 160 degrees.

5.  Finally, Gothic Basin is a beautiful, other worldly place to visit.  This is why so many people head to there, and sadly, why many aren't ready for the work or trail conditions.

Bandera Mountain in Early Autumn

The beautiful photograph of Mt. Rainier, from the top of Bandera, enticed us with a false promise.   Earlier in the week, deciding where to hike, we came across the picture of majestic Rainier.   As late as Thursday, when it was 80 degrees in Seattle, we were hopeful that we too would enjoy an amazing vista from the top of Bandera Mountain, with far fewer people than nearby Mailbox Peak.  Unfortunately, this was not the case. 

What a difference a day or two makes.  Despite the intermittent drizzle at the trailhead, the top of the mountain was beyond socked in.  We were pelted by wind and hail.   Fall may have arrived in the lowland with a misty morning, but we hiked into winter.  Be prepared!  We piled on layers and gloves, and spent maybe 15 minutes at the false summit before quickly descending 500 feet to more moderate conditions.  Another 500 down, and we were peeling off layers.  

Bandera is solid work.  Before the turn off to Mason Lake, the trail pushes up hill aggressively.  Between puffs of breath, we enjoyed the bright fall colors of the vine maples.   After the junction to the lake, the trail becomes  ridiculously steep.  It is nearly straight up.  A switch back would have been a welcomed relief.    You will cross a boulder field a few under feet before the false summit.  If you are more observant than I was, you'll notice the trail restarts to the right (southeast) of the boulders.  We ascended the rocks further than necessary.

Conditions on top were miserable.  One guy, who followed us up, was in cotton jeans and an old coat, feeling a little hypothermic.  Lucky for him, dropping a thousand feet would warm him up.  That being said, he was moving up towards the pointless, no-view summit, definitely looking for a place to chill out, as we were descending to warmer conditions.  

On the way down, the steep rocks and mud on the trail (?) created a kind of treacherous slip-n-slide.  However, we were reassured by my friend's 17 year old son, who told us he had just learned to tape ankles in his Sports Medicine class should we sprain one.  Fortunately, we were all wearing quality boots, and made it down safely.  

By the time we made it back to the trailhead, it felt balmy at 53 degrees.  Despite the early and extreme weather on top, the hike is an excellent fitness test.  The absurdity of the last mile or so matches the blunt cardio check of Mailbox with a somewhat more moderate crowd.  Try to go there when the sun is shining.  I understand to view of Rainier from the top is awesome.

Winter Arrived Early Mt. Pilchuck

Winter has arrived early on Mt. Pilchuck where snow covers the trail about a mile out of the trailhead. We guessed that at least ten inches of snow has accumulated at the summit.  Last year, we hiked to the top in a snowless November.  In fact, I can't think of a season in the past 10 or 15 years, when we have seen more than a dusting of snow this early in autumn.

Despite the snow, we found the conditions on the trail good in the morning as we worked our way up the mountain.  The path was easy to follow and the snow was firm and not too icy all the way to the top.  The "summer trail" which turns south (right) of the lookout and brings you to the summit ridge is still in use.  In other words, you don't need to worry about the "winter route" scramble to the lookout up the boulders to the north.  That being said, snow on the rocks before the lookout ladder required a little extra care and caution.

The lookout was open, and crowded when we arrived just before noon.  Since the cloud cover hadn't lifted, and a cold wind whistled outside, hikers stayed inside eating lunch, and perusing the historic photos.

Heading back down the trail was a lot more treacherous.  People were slipping and falling all over as foot traffic had iced up the compact snow.  I was glad I had poles and was wearing boots.  Even so, I sat down once involuntarily on the hike down when my footing gave out.  I almost donned the Yaktrax (microspikes), but decided I was okay without them.

Mt. Pilchuck is turning into Mt. Si north with crowds of new hikers on the trail. Needless-to-say, going down was slow.  I also noticed that the folks hiking in blue jeans, cotton hoodies, and running shoes in freezing, wet conditions, outnumbered experienced hikers in proper gear.  Apparently, not everyone knows that cotton sucks the heat out of you when it gets wet.  Old running shoes lead to twisted ankles on a rugged terrain, not to mention cold feet, especially when the snow is shin deep.  Regardless, we all enjoyed the preview of what promises to be snowy winter.