As many times as I have done The High Divide and passed the trail that leads down into the Seven Lakes Basin, I have never actually gone down into it. So, I packed my fishing pole, checked the weather forecast, (it called for rain), and set out super early so that I would have enough time to do everything I wanted.

I hit the trail at 5:30 in the morning. It was just getting light and I could just make out the trail without a flashlight. I wanted to get to Deer Lake before it got too light and the fish had eaten their fill. It’s about 4 miles up to the lake and I made it in about an hour and a half. The sun was just lighting up the tops of the hills around Deer lake and I was beginning to think that the weatherman got it wrong again. Oh well, I don’t mind it when he says it’s going to rain and it doesn’t.

Brook Trout from Deer Lake

I walked around to the back side of the lake where the stream feeds it. I have always had my best luck at the mouths of streams. I figure it’s because it feed the lakes with fresh water and food and bugs as well.  There’s a little gravel bar poking out into the lake that I just couldn’t reach without getting wet, so I took off my boots and socks, slopped through the boggy grassy area and came out onto the bar.

There’s nothing more annoying while you are trying to enjoy a peaceful, quiet morning fishing for mountain trout than a fish that swallows a treble hook and ends up dying from getting torn up trying to get it out. I have cut off 2 of the 3 hooks on all my spinners, and on most of them even pinched the barbs down on them. It paid off today. The fish were ferocious. The first one I caught I thought was twice as big as it really was. But in reality it was only about 8 or 9 inches long. He took the hook quite a ways down his throat, but thanks to the barbless single hook it slipped right out and he was able to swim away without any damage.  They were slow to bite, but when they did they were fighters. It was fun.

Fields of Heather

After about 45 minutes in the water, I called it quits, dried off my feet, put on my extra set of socks and set off up towards Lunch Lake. From Deer Lake it’s about 4 more miles, nearly all uphill but the flowers were in full bloom which made it a little more bearable. Red heather, yellow heather, lupine,  bear grass, avalanche lilies, indian paintbrush, subalpine spiraea, cascade azalea (a type of rhododendron), tiger lilies, and several others were present a various points along  the way. Red mountain heather dominated the landscape though.

Above Deer Lake, just above the area called “the potholes” is a switchbacked, rocky climb that for some reason, I dread more than any other section on this whole trail. It’s really not that bad, but it just seems to go on forever. This time, however, it wasn’t as bad as I remember. It’s probably because I’m in better shape than I have been in years, and also, the Red Mountain Heather was thick. I have never seen it so thick and colorful.

On the top of that hill the trail levels out a bit and turns into a softer, less rocky forest trail. It follows along the south side of the ridge and goes in and out of the forest; the clear spots offering views down into the valley and to the hillside on the far side. Snow fields fill the low spots on the opposite side year round and if you are lucky, mountain goats and an occasional black bear can be seen. In one section of this part of the trail, the smell of elk filled the air. On previous trips I have seen the herd in the valley below, but have never smelled them this distinctly. I was sure that they would bust out of the brush at any moment, spooked by my presence, but I never saw them.

Lunch Lake From Above

Finally around 10:00 I reached the trail down to the basin. There’s a beautiful little viewpoint at the top, just before the descent that a group was taking the opportunity to take some pictures. I did too. As soon as I began dropping down the trail I knew that it was going to be a pain to get back up out of there when I left: the trail was steep and rocky, but it was only about a half mile down, and it went by quickly. On the way down I passed a family that had camped at the lake that night and now the 2 kids with them were showing their displeasure at being loaded down with gear having to climb this sadistic grade. I let them know that once they reached the top of this one, it was all downhill from there.

Upon reaching the lake, I immediately noticed a boulder field on the uphill side that looked perfect for fishing. I made my way over and perched on a promising looking rock and cast my line. It was at this precise moment that my head started to burn. I rubbed it and felt a mass of little bumps and as I removed my hand, about 5 mosquitoes fell onto the rock around me. Those little bastards were thick in the air.  I couldn’t believe that I forgot my bug spray. I grabbed a spare shirt and covered my head and neck which helped quite a bit but they were on my arms now too. It’s a pain in the ass to try and fish and swat mosquitoes at the same time. I checked my first aid kit to see it there was anything I could use. The closest thing I could find were some disinfecting wipes. I figured perhaps the chemicals in it would be hostile to their noses. I couldn’t tell much difference. I think I left about 3 pounds of dead mosquitoes on that rock, and to top it all off, I didn’t catch anything at that spot.

Lunch Lake Brook Trout

Continuing around the lake counter-clockwise the shore offer many great areas that would be great for swimming or fishing. It drops off quickly and the water is beautifully clear. But I didn’t have much luck. There was one spot where there was a boulder half in the water. I climbed up onto it and as soon as I poked my head over, I saw a fish dart off into the deep. No luck there either. Finally on the side opposite the trail and campsites, there’s a shore made of large gravel. That’s where I had my first bite. But they are crafty little fish and that was the only bite. On down the shore a ways I finally hooked one. This one fought like it was twice as big as it really was. Also, using my ultra-light pole made it even more of a blast taking them in.

Spinners did ok, but I would imagine that if you had some live bait, or PowerBait, that you could knock them dead and make one heck of a meal out of these guys.

I noticed a sign pointing down a hill towards Clear Lake. I figured what the heck, I’m here to explore, let’s explore. Half way down to the lake I was already regretting it. It was steeper and rockier than the trail down to Lunch Lake. Oh well, I was committed to the cause and kept going. Upon reaching Clear Lake, I noticed it was a lot less clear than the Other lakes in the range. It had that brownish tinge to it and appeared quite stagnant. It was lunch time, but I didn’t want to hang out here and eat; It just wasn’t that inspiring. So I trucked on back up the hill, my legs weakening from hunger, but before long I made it back to Lunch Lake and had lunch.

Yellow Mountain Heather

I had some bread in a hard container, some habanero cheese from our trip to Tillamook last week, and some ham. Two sandwiches later I was stuffed and ready to go. By that time the clouds were rolling in and it was cooling down considerably. The weather man did call for afternoon showers and it looked like he was going to be right afterall. I told myself to take it easy on the way back up. Normally I push hard to get the heart going and sweat flowing. Today I held myself back to keep my self dry. I wasn’t in the mood to get chilled like that. So I took it easy coming up out of the basin and before i knew it I was at the top of the hill, crossing the last patch of snow and beginning the downhill slide back to Deer Lake.

I must have eaten too much because my gut started growling at me and I felt like I was going to lose it. I slowed down some more to try and let it settle. A rain drop hit me.  And another. I pulled my hat out of my pack to keep my face and neck dry and before long I was back above Deer Lake coming down that stretch of trail to the potholes. Around this time I started passing groups of people on their way up to the basin and other campsites in the area. I thought  to myself they sure are getting late starts, but who am I to make those judgments?

Red Mountain Heather

At Deer Lake I recharged again, drank a red bull that the wife had got for me and stretched out a bit in preparation for the final 4 miles down the hill. By now the sun had popped out again so I took off my long sleeves and hat, I never wear long sleeves if I don’t have to.

I tried taking it easy down the hill, but old habits die hard and before I knew it I was skipping along, bouncing over the rocks and working on my footwork. I passed several more groups of people coming up the hill, wished them luck with their trips and kept on cruising.

I reached the car at 4:30. I had originally scheduled to meet up with the family at the Hot Springs at 5:00 so this was about perfect. I drove down to the resort, bought an overpriced 6 pack and had a couple beers before the wife and kids showed up for a relaxing evening in the pools. It felt so good. I could have hung out in there for hours, but dinner time was approaching and we left there about 7:00, had some burgers and went home. I was so beat that we decided to clean up in the morning. The rest of the night was meant for relaxing.

Last August I was quite  fortunate to be able to team up with a few friends from work and do the Obstruction Point trail. This is a great trail that starts right above the treeline and follows a ridge for a couple miles, then drops down into a valley containing some wonderful lakes and several forks leading to other parts of the park and several choices for your return trip.

To get to the trailhead from Port Angeles follow the signs to Hurricane Ridge.  The National Park charges an entry fee per vehicle: $15 daily or $30 yearly.  The yearly pass is well worth it for what you can access with it. The entry station is located about 5 miles from Port Angeles up the Hurricane Ridge Parkway, and from there it’s another 12 or so miles to the Hurricane Ridge Park. We’re not going there though. Right before the main park, (you can see the visitors center), theres a little, treacherous looking dirt road that takes off to the south of the main road. Follow this road several miles until you reach the trail-head. Drive carefully; the road is narrow and negotiating with oncoming traffic can be exciting at times.

There’s no water that I can remember at the trail-head, so be sure to come prepared. There are two apparent routes from the parking lot, but the north trail splits into two more just out of view of the parking lot; one dropping into Badger Valley and the other makes its’ way to Deer Park. We set off on the south trail and the sun was already beaming.  It was perfect.

Once we worked our way over  the first rise, we saw a grouse just off the trail watching us. Grouse are funny birds in that they will let you get incredibly close to them before they realize “Oh crap, I better get outta here”, and even then, they may only fly 50 feet away and watch you some more. They can be incredibly easy to hunt because of this. Driving down the old logging roads where I grew up, most grouse I saw would see you coming and if they didn’t play ostrich and sit there, hoping you wouldn’t see them, they would fly to the nearest tree beside the road, just waiting to become dinner.

This grouse wasn’t much different. He may be accustomed to humans passing by, but for whatever reason, he let us get to within 10 feet of him before skittering away.

The first couple miles of this trail are quite mild and scenic. Occasionally, off to the south, across the Lillian Valley you can see Lillian Lake. Lillian Lake is a perfect little silver dollar shaped, crystal blue lake nestled into a bowl at the top of a mountain ridge. I decided then and there that one day I will make it up to that lake, and upon further research, I discovered that I can. And will. This summer, I’m taking a couple days and going to get there no matter what.

About 2 miles from the parking lot, we split from the “tourist” route and crossed the forbidden “Do Not Cross” sign to trek on the old, mostly forgotten trail. The “proper” trail continues on and then drops steeply into the Grand Valley and the lakes held within. The spur that we took picks its’ way up over a rugged outcropping of rocks, across a rock field and then you have to pick your way over a jagged ridge with a dizzying drop to either side of you. I make i sound worse than it was, but only to make it sink in that this is no place for the kids. One mis-step could really ruin your day. I took a video of us having some fun on the ridge: Rock & Roll (39Mb).

After picking your way over about half the ridge, it becomes impassable and you must drop down onto the hillside. A trekking pole is strongly recommended for this hike. The rocks are very loose and the ground is extremely steep and uneven. When you do have decent footing, the rocks are quite jagged and really do a number on your boots.

The descent onto the hillside is interesting to say the least:

Once back on the trail below that ridge, you must grind your way back up to the peak of Moose Mt. Between the loose rock and insane grade, you wonder how on earth you can manage. You can: Just keep putting one foot in front of the other. Here’s where staying well hydrated and fed pays off. Nothing makes you more miserable and shaky-legged than being hungry. Also, I’ve found that bringing along a bag of hard candy to suck on, such as Werthers or LifeSavers, does wonders at keeping your mouth wet and your energy level high enough to make it through the next push, wherever that may be.

Moose Mt. is a knob in the middle of this area, upon which you can see where you’ve been, where you’re going and where you wish you could go. Another feature off Moose Mt. is its’ nondescript little glacier. Nothing special, but even in the hottest part of summer it never totally disappears. It’s a steep little scramble to get to it, but it’s rewarding none-the-less.

After a quick break on the mountain, make your way down the north slope onto low pass. In the loose shale, there isn’t much of a trail, but you can tell where you are supposed to go: Downhill. Now you can look down into the valley on your left and see Moose Lake and the smaller Gladys Lake, and before you know it, you are standing on the ridge overlooking the “proper” trail once again. The switchbacks leading to the valley wind through a massive network of marmot dens. You are pretty much guaranteed to see more than one of those massive rodents on your way down.

The cool valley, beside Gladys lake is a nice spot for lunch. Now, from here you have a couple choices. Turn north towards Moose and Grand Lakes or south up a 2 mile network of switchbacks to Grand Pass. The views from Grand pass are spectacular, and we were feeling pretty fresh yet, despite the roller coaster ride we’ve just been on to get to where we were, so we opted to check that out. The ascent was fairly unremarkable, but the reward was worth it. It was here we decided to take our group picture:

Once back down in the valley, Craig and I started pulling away from the rest of the group. Not because they were getting tired or anything, they were just enjoying the scenery. We were trying to get to the fishing. Moose lake looked promising, but we knew Grand lake was twice as big and for sure had better fish.  However, between Moose and Grand Lake lies a junction in the trail: Back up the hill to where we left the trail earlier, or north to Badger Valley and eventually the parking lot. Unfortunately, no one had ever taken the Badger Valley route before and didn’t know what the trail was like. We knew what the trail was like the other way: Switchbacks straight up the hill. We opted for Badger Valley and stopped at Grand lake for some R&R. There was a beautiful deep pool right off the trail with tons of trout just waiting to be caught.

Grand Lake

After our little respite at the lake we set off again. By now we were well below the treeline and still descending. I was getting uneasy at this and Craig also made a comment: “We sure are dropping a lot here… We’re going to have to make this up later.” By this time we were getting pretty tired from the days adventures, and by the time we reached the bottom and started back up again, we were well into the trees and I wasn’t looking forward at all to climbing back out of them. Oh well, we were committed.

The remaining few miles were a lot slower going than before, when were fresh. I kept looking up ahead, trying to discern any familiar landmark from the parking lot area. I swore we would never get there.  By this time, the sun had fallen behind the peaks and some low clouds came in, dropping the temperature considerably; It was welcome, but due to my fatigue, I could keep moving quickly enough to stay warm and loose.  Coming to another shale, switchbacked hill, I was beat. I saw nothing that led me to believe that we were nearing the end. I’d make my way up to one end of a switchback, rest. Up the the next corner. Rest.  Finally coming over the last rise, onto the trail above, I realized that this was the other fork, just out of view of the parking lot. Needless to say, my spirits rose and I strode around the corner to salvation.

We left a note on the other vehicle that we were headed home to fire up the grill and pop the tops off some beers. The rest of the group made it to the house about 45 minutes after we got there, and soon we were chowing down on great grub with our families in the back yard. It was wonderful.

Now, I’m not the fittest of people, but I keep trucking. What I tell the kids is this: “You don’t have to move fast. You just have to keep moving.” Many of the hikes I go on are ass kickers, and when I get home I crash. But I will never stop moving forward. This hike here is one of those. I’m sure if we hadn’t gone up to Grand Pass, the climb out of Badger Valley would have been much more tolerable, but if I had to do it again, I’d do it the same way. Never take the easy way out.

Here’s a gallery of the entire trail: http://olympicwanderer.com/Obstruction%20Point/ Enjoy.

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Sunday. Fathers Day. I took Copper, drove to the trailhead and we set off about 7:15am.

Copper on the ridge

The Mt. Muller Loop is a unique trail on the Olympic Penennsula in that it’s one of the few trails in the area not inside the National Park. Because of this, you can take your pets, ride your mountain bike and even take the horses.
I normally go counter clock-wise because tackling the flats first is a good warm-up for the long climb to the summit. Plus, when you do the flats last, it seems to take FOR-EVER to get back to the car… they drag on and on and on.
My plan was to get to the top and at the junction take a left to Kloshe Nanitch. I’ve passed the junction many times, but never actually taken the trail up there. So today was going to be the day.
The three miles to the junction went by quickly. Copper would run up ahead, then run back to make sure I was still coming, then off he’d go again. He never left the trail, never chased the birds, he was quite well behaved the whole trip.
At the top, it was cold, wet and windy. It wasn’t raining, but the clouds were so thick that water was condensing on the trees and dripping off. down at the car I debated on bringing my foul weather gear. I normally don’t need it… I don’t mind getting wet so much because I tend to keep warm enough through exertion that it isn’t a problem. Today, however I’m glad I packed it.
From the outset, the spur trail resisted: It was overgrown with salmon berry bushes, vine maples draped over the trail and the grass was thick. Occasionally, the trail would follow along the edge of the ridge. You could look down over the cliff but the mist was so thick, there wasn’t much of a view. I was so impressed by the weather that
took a quick video.
After about 3/4 mile or so, the trail disappeared completely. I searched for about 20 minutes, pushing through trees and circling around searching for any sign… nothing. I was soaked to the bone. My gore-tex jacket protected my body, but my pants were soaked through making walking uncomfortable. In addition, my boots had wicked enough water down my socks that they were sloshing with water. I must say though, that as wet and cold as I was, I was having fun. I love it out alone, with nowhere to be and the stresses of everyday life left behind. I would do this every day if I could get away with it.
Back at the junction it’s about 2.3 miles to the summit. So I set off. Up and up and up. My wet pants making every step an ordeal, I huffed on up the trail. My GPS told me I was less than 1/2 mile from the top, but I was so dang hungry, I had to stop. We sat down and I fixed a sandwich. Copper ate his and I ate two. After about 15 minutes we set off again. Fifteen minutes after that, we reached the summit. My GPS said we were at 3768′, but the sign says 3748′. Regardless, it was nice. The wind was still blowing, but the clouds had cleared enough to see the valley below.
I took this opportunity to change my clothes I was still pretty wet and uncomfortable.
There’s a geocache up here too. If you aren’t familliar with Geocaching, I suggest you check it out. People all over the world hide packages all over the place, then post the Lat./Lon. coordinates online. Then you go out and find it, sign the log book, take a trinket and leave a trinket if you want. It’s really quite fun, and kids really get a kick out of doing these “treasure hunts”. The designation for the Mt. Muller Cache is: GCNB21
I layed and basked in the sun for about an hour. It was good.
The descent down the other side was uneventful. About 5 miles down the mountain, hamstrings getting more and more sore by the minute. Even Copper was beginning to show signs of fatigue by the time we hit the bottom. He was glad when we did get there though, he hadn’t had anything propper to drink since the start; just an occasional sip from my Camelbak. There was a stream there that he layed in, and drank until he was full.
There are two more Geocaches along the flat part of the trail: GC17MR9 and GC17MRG. I had already found those at an earlier time though. We made it back to the car about 3:30. Copper was so beat that he just layed on the back seat on the way home. Normally, in the car, he’s up and around, sticking his nose out the window and trying to steer for me. Today, I couldn’t get him to move from his spot. Then, when we got home, he crashed on his pillow and wouldn’t move. The kittens even came up to him and tryed playing with him. He barely lifted an eyebrow.
All in all, it was about the best Father’s Day I had ever had. Peace, quiet, good excercise and great environment. I’ll definitely do it again.

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