Itching for a hike, I spent Saturday morning scouting Google Maps terrain view of Washington for something of interest. I eventually settled on the Mt Daniel area in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness, figuring it could be an aggressive day summit even with a bit of a late start. At the last minute though I decided to bring along some company and changed my plans to an overnight scenic hike with two of the dogs. I knew that meant not being able to scramble up the rocky upper portions of Mt Daniel, but figured it’d still be a fun outing (maybe more so). Nora’s a bit high strung and didn’t make the cut. Three dogs would’ve been a bit much anyway. Trammell and Taylor though happily clamored into the back of the Focus and off we went. After a two hour drive, including a horrendous twelve mile stretch down a washboard- and rock-filled forest service road, we arrived at the trailhead of the Cathedral Rock Trail 1345.

The dogs waited in the back of the car while I made some final adjustments to my far too heavy pack (ten cups of dog food didn’t help). Sniffing the air and cocking their heads at a few other hikers. I kept them leashed at the start of the hike hoping to contain some of the energy that they would need later in the day. They tugged for about ten minutes especially as we passed a couple other groups of hikers, but then relaxed to match my pace. I unleashed Trammell and he followed right at my heels. Very dog-friendly trail: dirt with patches of rock and a few boulders. We hammered away at an endless set of switchbacks, eventually (1500 feet of elevation gain later) breaking the monotony by popping into view of a small alpine lake with a few campsites scattered around its periphery. The dogs had lapped water from a few streams on the way up but happily slurped from the giant water dish and splashed around in the reeds. Not there yet though guys. Another 500 feet up and we enjoyed our first views of Cathedral Rock.

Up further still the trail cut through Spinola Meadows, a flowery flat area pocked with frog-filled mini ponds. Nearby ridges offered vistas to the East. Mount Stuart (climbed last October) pictured in the distance in the picture below-right.

A bit more climbing and we were through Cathedral Pass. We connected with Peggy’s Pond Trail 1375 and followed this around a rocky exposed stretch of trail skirting Cathedral Rock. I would not recommend this trail at all to anyone trying to keep track of two dogs. The dogs themselves didn’t seem overly concerned, but I played the role of spotter in three or four spots where they were skittering down a narrow ledge with a lot of slope below. The pictures below were taken from trail 1375, but not from the exposed sections.

Reaching the trees on the far side of the slope, we stopped for about fifteen minutes, looking out over the valley to Deep Lake below and refueling. The dogs both had a few handfuls of Canidae and shared some of my Ritz crackers. The dogs seemed more interested in continuing down the trail than enjoying the scenery so off we went. Five minutes of hopping over logs and ducking under pine trees and we emerged at Peggy’s Pond.

As we stepped into the meadows near Peggy’s Pond, the dogs, who had been dutifully walking behind me, jubilantly welcomed the change in terrain with sprints and bounds. They chased each other down the trail and splashed into Peggy’s Pond. Cathedral Rock loomed overhead. There were a few campsites set up in the area and just to avoid the chance of an overly-exuberant dog interrupting someone’s peace and quiet I ended up leashing both dogs again for a few minutes as we continued down the trail.

From Peggy’s Pond the trail turned toward Mt Daniel and became much rockier. The dogs picked their steps more carefully, but didn’t seem too bothered by the pointy footing. The slope was still fairly gradual at this point.

Trammell was bothered a bit, however, by the mosquito-net-wearing couple we passed on the way out of the meadow. Alien and ominous in their Back to the Future head regalia. He gave a low warning growl as we passed, warily glancing over his shoulder several times. Below: Looking back at Cathedral Rock and Trammell posing in front of Mt Daniel in the distance.

After Peggy’s Pond we had the backcountry entirely to ourselves. On a gorgeous Saturday afternoon, crazy. I suppose anyone who had come this far was probably following the higher ridges toward the summit of Mt Daniel. The landscape shifted from trees and flowers to rock and glaciers. I love these locations that let me know I’m disconnected from the norm. Stark granite punctuated by vibrant blues and greens. The dogs sniffed and explored, perking up as the marmots serenaded us with their shrill cries from the cliffs.

Trammell galloped through a small glacial pool. Running laps on the beach and plucking objects from the bottom. Taylor chased briefly then was content to lap at the water and wander the shore.

Heading further up a somewhat steeper section Trammell was thrilled to discover snow. Snow in the summer! Woof! He ran and cut and crouched and burst again showering me in snow spray as he passed. Taylor gobbled down what she could.

At this point it was about 4:30 and I was starting to have second thoughts about camping. Given the surrounding steep slopes, hiking options would be limited for the next day and I still had enough daylight to get back to the trailhead. I’d basically just be hiking out in the morning anyway. Though catching a sunrise lighting up Cathedral Rock in the morning would almost certainly be mesmerizing. I fed the dogs from a Frisbee while I thought it over.

I decided to climb a little higher. The dogs had to do more scrambling as we headed up steeper rock and it was fun watching them route find as they trailed behind me. Occasionally Taylor would get stumped by a tricky boulder and I would backtrack to point out a dog-friendly route to her. We topped out at our high point of the hike (elevation 6500 ft) to find a sloping glacier and more turquoise pools (check out the depth of the one Trammell is looking at).

I’m used to seeing crevasses fissuring in horizontal planes. This one was spiraling and as Trammell and I peaked into the gap I was surprised to see how deep the crack went. Trammell backpedaled quickly.

I didn’t check the time, but with the light fading I knew it was probably time to turn back if we were going to make it back to the car before dark. No camping it is. Would’ve saved a good forty pounds of gear to have figured that out ahead of time. Oh well, at least it was a good workout. Looking up at the peak, I was a bit bummed to miss out on the vistas that would certainly accompany another hour of scrambling, but mostly I was happy to be able to romp through the wilderness with a couple of good companions.

We retraced our path back down the rock slope and I was surprised with how nimbly the dogs handled the descent. Trammell scampered down whatever looked easiest nearby and Taylor made traverses whenever she felt uncomfortable. All that city life and still lissome in the wild.

The dogs handled the slopes around Cathedral Rock again, but I had to give Taylor a boost a few times and I watched Trammell very closely. At Cathedral Pass we followed a side path higher on the ridge for a while before dropping back down to the main trail.

Below: A look down at Deep Lake from the slopes of Cathedral Rock. And a look back at Cathedral Rock from near Cathedral Pass.

I think the dogs were starting to feel the miles and they dropped into step behind me, occasionally trotting ahead, but never far off. Again the endless switchbacks and finally we reached the car at about 7:40. The dogs lay down immediately in the back and slept hard most of the way home. A few more photos can be found here.

I took Trammell and Taylor out hiking to Cathedral Rock (and Peggy’s Pond and Mt. Daniel) in the Alpine Lake Wilderness for much of the day today. This was the first real hike they’ve been on (we gained 3000 feet of elevation and hiked back down in the same day) and they both performed admirably. I’ll post more pictures and a proper trip report soon.

At about noon last Friday I checked the forecast for Mount Adams and, spotting sunny and clear, decided that a run up the south side was in order for the weekend. I was on the road from Yakima by 1:30 pm and, after a couple of small stops, reached the trailhead at Cold Springs campground about four hours later. With about three hours of daylight left and an intended campsite destination at least 4500 feet above me I didn’t have a ton of time to waste. I knew what to expect though, having done this same hike last August, and felt comfortable with the logistics in place. I quickly loaded up my pack, opting at the last minute to leave my sleeping pad and the rain flap to my tent in the car. I also left behind my leather hiking boots and slipped on my beat-up Merrill hiking shoes instead. Light and fast, light and fast.

The South Climb Trail 183 climbs gradually from about 4600 ft through the trees on a well-defined dirt path before reaching the steeper talus slopes of Mount Adams. I met a few groups coming down the mountain, but nobody on the way up (until reaching the more popular camping spots near Lunch Counter, elevation 9000 ft). I marched upward at a fairly quick pace and was cooking in the evening sun, rivulets of sweat pouring down my cheeks. Once I reached the snowfields below Lunch Counter though things cooled off nicely.

I had intended to camp at Lunch Counter and was treated to a spectacular setting sun as I crested into this flatter area (see pic below left, Mount St. Helens silhouetted in the distance), but my legs were feeling sharp and the sun hadn’t completely set yet so I kept moving. I scrambled up the rocky slopes above (pic below right) for another 500 feet of elevation gain and several times considered what it would feel like if I just kept pushing for the summit in the middle of the night.

As the temperature rapidly dipped though I was plenty happy to break out my tent and curl into a warm sleeping bag for the night. I took these pictures of my campsite on Saturday morning on my way back down the mountain.

Inside my tent, I chugged Powerade, ate Nutrigrain bars and cashews, packed my summit pack, and put on just about every piece of clothing I had brought with me. I thought I might be a little colder than normal without the insulation of the rain flap (and I’m normally always cold when I sleep outside), but the wind was fairly calm, my rock windbreak was sturdy, and I used my pack as a mini windbreak inside my tent and after about twenty minutes I barely noticed the cold. I set the alarm on my cell phone for 4:30 am and was asleep within ten minutes of laying my head down on a balled up t-shirt.

I woke up before my alarm at about 3:45 am, half moon shining overhead. I felt rested and alert and lay in my sleeping bag watching stars, not quite ready to move just yet. At about 4:00 I heard voices and four headlamps flashed into view, bobbing in the darkness 100 feet to the west. I took this as my cue, hurriedly shouldering my day pack and lacing my shoes. I said hello to the group as I trotted past and mentally started ticked off my goals for the day.

1. Watch the sun rise from the summit.
2. Summit first.

Given the time of day and fairly fresh legs I thought the first goal would be doable with a little hustle. The second (born partly out of competitiveness and partly out of a desire for solitude) would come with the first if no one in front of me had too much of a headstart. I was navigating by moonlight (the dogs chewed up my head lamp a while back), but with a clear sky and snowy footing this proved easy enough.

The section of the south climb between Lunch Counter and the false summit (elevation 11500 ft) is the steepest part of the climb, but the snow was soft enough that I could kick steps most of the way up slope. I punched through the top layer once to a stream of water below the surface, soaking my right shoe, but otherwise had smooth sailing. I reached the false summit at 5:25 am, catching a group of two in front of me. Up until this point I had been comfortable hiking in shorts and long sleeves, but even on this relatively calm day the wind was whipping steadily across the saddle. I added long pants and a fleece and exchanged pleasantries with the father-son duo before heading off. 800 feet to go, racing the sun.

After the false summit you get a small reprieve across mostly level terrain before one steep last push. I knew the way and the trail was well travelled and easy to follow. I summited at 6:00, with the peak to myself and the sun winking into view. The sunrise picture below was taken a short while after the sunrise shot I posted a few days ago.

It was far, far, far more pleasant on the summit this time versus the last time I was here (windswept and freezing) and I scampered around snapping pictures and watching the world light up below.

The lookout shack on the summit. Definitely more iced up than last time. Mount Hood in the distance in the right photo.

Left: Mount Adams casting its gigantic shadow across the valley (with Mount St. Helens in the distance). Right: Looking North toward Mount Rainier. I kept thinking about what a gorgeous day it would be to be summiting Rainier. What’s another 2000 feet anyway?

Left: West Peak of Mount Adams. Right: Looking South down toward the false summit (Piker’s Peak), Mount Hood in the distance.

I stayed for about forty five minutes until the two hikers that I had passed at the false summit finally poked into view a ways below me. I figured they would enjoy the solitude as much as I had, so I headed down. Stopping to check out the icy crevaces above Klickitat Glacier on my way down. Teeth.

A couple looks back up toward the summit. Left: From the saddle. Right: From near the false summit. Back at the false summit I ran into the group of four (with the headlamps) who I had said hello to earlier that morning. In their plastic boots and crampons, they seemed to get a kick out of my low-top shoes and shorts. Hopefully, that didn’t temper their sense of adventure too much.

I took these two pictures while hiking down below the false summit. You can kind of get a feel for the steepness of the slopes.

I took these two pictures from near my campsite. Left: looking up. Right: Looking East toward a snowfield full of sun cups.

Back in camp, I kicked off my soaked shoes and socks, squeezing out as much water as I could before hanging them over rocks. I let my wrinkled toes air out while I broke down my tent and rehydrated. Then headed toward home. Left: Tents below Lunch Counter. Right: A snow slope that I stupidly skittered down instead of following the trail back.

Beautiful hiking conditions, blue skies and loads of sun (but not too warm). All the way out I ran into people asking about the summit and I happily relayed the good news. With plenty of time to think, I realized that I might never be back this way. I like the hike/climb, but I like new experiences more. Twice is probably enough for me. I know the views and the trail now. I know what the peak looks/feels like in the near-light and the sunrise. Other than climbing in a very different season or showing somebody else around or heading up a more challenging route, I think I’ll probably had for other pastures with my free time. If I’m not back, I definitely can’t complain about the note I went out on. Gorgeous weekend.

After an alpine start, I topped out on Mount Adams (elevation 12,277 ft) this morning just in time to catch the sun popping over the horizon. Had the summit and the sunrise all to myself for about forty-five minutes before heading back down. Superb. I’ll post again soon with more.

A few pictures from this weekend. My mom and brother (not pictured) were in town for a long weekend, so we spent a couple days on the Oregon coast (not pictured) and a couple days in Yakima and its surroundings (Mount Rainier pictured). They were the first guests we’ve had in our new house since the big move a year and a half ago and it was nice to have a little more bustle around the house for a change (and someone to play Mario Tennis with). For the first time in our lives we actually own a guest bed and it was nice to have the space to accommodate visitors. If you read this website odds are pretty good that you’re more than welcome to crash at our house for a couple days. Come on by! Only one guest bed though. Jordan had to fight the dogs for the use of the living room sofa. The dogs won. We woke up Sunday morning to find him lying on the floor with a blanket over his head while Taylor curled up in the middle of the couch.