Goat Rock Wilderness 9/2

Today we entered Goat Rock wilderness; one of those famous places on the PCT mainly because of the awesome rock formations and long ridge walk it includes. We approached it through the Yakama Indian reservation. A sign told us to stay on the trail and not to hunt anything. We were good with that. About 20 mountain goats were spotted near a snowfield across the valley we were hiking up. They looked like little moving white boulders. We ascended about 1,400 ft and took a break 1.5 miles before our final gnarly push for the summit. 

Princess turned to TC and pointed out a tree that looked like a llama. It was a rusty brown color. TC looked at it and wondered what kind of wood it was. Then it moved. By golly it was a llama. What fun but what the heck was a solitary llama doing up here? Had it escaped from somewhere? Princess boldly approached the animal and it stood up. It was not terrified and did not run but it was cautious. Earlier Princess had found a huge red collar with the name Denali printed on it thinking it belonged to a large dog. Maybe it belonged to this curious creature and it had somehow escaped its collar. We do not know and left it in peace. Princess thought about calling a ranger but Tortuga said it would be OK, as in, it would take care of itself and if winter set in would descend looking for food. We walked on. 

     The next few hours were exciting. We haven't had much of that since the fires. We took the rugged way up to the top of Old Snowy Mountain which meant we were clammering over giant loose boulders. We didn't want to cross the snowfield so we detoured over loose, rock in disarray. It was dangerously fun. Our adrenalin kicked in and we forgot about hiking and carrying packs, we were peak bagging and doing something new. We finally got back on a trail and reached the windy summit. Everyone started piling clothes on and TC said" let's get the hell out of here" weather was coming. The clouds were upon us and the wind was increasing but we still had two miles of knife-edge ridge climbing.

Knife Ridge 

Knife Ridge. 

      We could see our thin trail ahead settled on top of a narrow ridge. The sides of the ridges were precarious and steep. We were surrounded by glaciers and snowfields. The clouds and mists were closing in and the wind was picking up. The temperature was dropping. Weather was coming fast. We were moving as quickly as possible considering the loose, wet, slippery terrain. The wind made all conversation comical. Princess was out in the lead holding it all together. FC was laughing and TC was in a hurry to beat the rain. Mr. Sandals was happy with the excitement and Tortuga was leader of the back. We all made it down, off the Knife Edge, just as the rain started to soak us. Everyone was exhilarated. There was a lot of hooting and hollering. We lived and no one got hurt.

Knife Ridge. 

      With the weather came early darkness . We reached Lake Lutz, a big pond really but the area was not big enough to accommodate 3 tents so we couldn't all camp together. A group of hunters had set up a mini-Marriott compound down the way.Horses had brought in a huge white circus tent. There was a pipe coming out of the top with smoke wafting  through the rain and mist. There were large coolers lined up. FC imagined these coolers filled with deer limbs and flesh on ice. Whatever you kill you have to dismember and remove from the premises. The hunters were nice to Princess offering her food. FC and TC chose to move on. The hunters were starting dinner and the thought of smelling food cooking and hearing men's low voicesall night was not inviting. We heard the next day that they took in some hikers and allowed them to dry off in their 80 degree white tent house. FC cannot understand the intent to kill animals when it is not necessary, ie,you do not need their meat to survive. She and TC once drove  into a hunting camp in California where dead deer were strung up, and hanging from everywhere they looked. It was dark and eerie and smoky and  the deer were suspended like Chinese lanterns at a summer festival. It is one of those memories that will not depart.FC knows that hunters are just fun loving people and she should just sit down and get to know them. Maybe talk about hunting, have a beer and chew some tobacco with them but this was not that time. Our crazy pair were cold and wet on the outside. They walked a mile down the path and found a solitary campsite. Unfortunately this place only had a dry spring so TC and FC went to bed without a warm drink or warm food. They had missed lunch in the rush and excitement of the day so their ribs stuck out a bit more that night.

          Next day we hiked into White's Pass, a ski resort in the winter. We had reserved 3 rooms and found out they were ski condos. Each was decorated differently and owned separately. As the surly front desk man said," This is not a hotel". He was a piece of schizophrenic work. pleasant one moment, rude the next. FC and TC got a studio with bunk beds and a fabulous kitchen. They turned the heater on immediately and started to thaw. Tent and fly had to be dried out; damp sleeping bags needed fluffing; clothes needed washing; new food needed to be sorted; stomachs needed to be filled. The warmth of the room was the most welcoming feature along with the use of a stove to boil water. Walking and sleeping in the rain for one night is doable. More than that is cold and dirty. We were fortunate to get over that pass just in time. Not everyone was so lucky. It did snow up there (we heard the 2 days later) which would have made conditions dangerous. 

       We had one Nero day at Whites Pass and headed north on Sept. 4. Tortuga's friend Dick returned from Monroe to drive us to trailheads, the town of Packard, and will meet us on Sept.5 at a road crossing to bring us our food. He is our trail angel at the moment and we are so fortunate to have his help. 

       

Rainer.