Wonderland Day One — Can I Do This?

(Longmire to Devil’s Dream.  Per my AllTrails app:  Length: 8.30 miles; Elevation gain: 2,900 ft.; Moving Time: 3:27; Total Time: 5:30)

Heading Back to Rainier National Park

Up at 5:30 a.m. to do my last NYT puzzles for the next ten days then down for my last hot breakfast – a lot of “lasts” here, right?  After signing the bill for breakfast, I stole the pen for writing in my journal and was almost ready to go.  Shower, re-pack, and I would be off for Longmire to start my Wonderland Trail 10-day journey!

The drive back was about 60 miles and so much easier with a clear destination ahead and a day to look forward to.  Funny thing, I stopped in Elbe (to squeegee the bugs away) at the same station where I gassed up the day before.  A guy in front of me was getting gas for his very elaborately painted van.

“Cool ride,” I said, “did you paint it yourself?”

“No, no,” he replied, “it’s a rental.”

Then, forty minutes later, the exact same van pulls in and parks right opposite me in the Longmire parking lot!  So of course I say, “Cool ride, did you paint it yourself?”

Initially he didn’t recognize me and started on the rental spiel again.  We laughed at the “reveal” and chatted.  He and his wife(?) girlfriend(?) were driving and camping down the West Coast.  They were Belgian and were amazed I could speak French and knew and loved Jacques Brel. 

Jacques Brel (Flickr stock photo)

This was how I discovered that I love chatting to people on the trail (even before I formally started on the trail!).  They are strangers one moment and friends the next.  This happened over and over during that first day.

Right Away an Alternate Route

Before starting, I went to the ranger station and confirmed that the Rampart Ridge route would work to meet up with Wonderland.

“Yes,” they said, “it adds a little more than a mile of distance, but you get some great views at the top.”  That was when I realized that side trails and alternate routes might make my distance quite a bit more than the minimum 93 miles.

So, similar to the day before, except starting after 11:00 a.m., I began by walking the tame interpretive loop and then found the steep uphill trail that led to Rampart Ridge.  There, as promised, I eventually saw both Longmire from on high and The Lady herself (Tahoma, or Mt. Rainier) who was seldom seen due to woods for most of the rest of the day.  Halfway up to the ridge I encountered a full family, along with a very sleek German Shepherd, panting by the trailside and chattering among themselves in Spanish.  They became most appreciative when they realized that I also spoke Spanish.

“Cuánto más?” (“How much further?”) they asked me and seemed dismayed when I replied, “No sé, quizas la mitád?”  (“I don’t know, maybe half?”)  I suspect they turned around.

First Trail Friends

At the ridge, a day-hiking older couple rested on a large flat rock.  When I suggested the need for an “elder” lottery for Wonderland the wife informed me that her husband was turning 75 on that day!  So of course I sang him a heartfelt “Happy Birthday” and he agreed the most important part at our age was the last bit, “and many more.”

Three folks, two women and a man, were resting at the meeting point where the Rampart Ridge Trail rejoins Wonderland.  Polly, Darcy and Gita (the guy) were the first fellow through-hikers that I met.  (In this context, “through hiker” means a person completing the entire Wonderland Trail.  Using it embarrasses me a little, because it generally refers to persons hiking vastly longer distances, such as the Appalachian Trail or the Pacific Crest Trail.)  They were going the same direction but had started a day earlier at Box Canyon.  Their itinerary did not precisely mesh with mine, but it seemed we would overlap at a few campsites, including Devil’s Dream that night, so I guessed I might see more of them.

The women were lovely, but Gita, especially when he learned I had been a Foreign Service Officer, began going on and on about his theories on capitalism and how China might be a better society than ours.  I got the vibe that he was being deliberately provocative — an iconoclast, thinking outside the box, but a bit unrealistic.  Anyhow, it turned out he was an uphill charger and by the time I got to camp that evening – huffing and puffing – he was off climbing Pyramid Mountain.  The two women very nicely allowed me through their campsite to access the water source at the end of the day.

The Challenge of Crossing Glacial Rivers

Back to the trail though, it went down from where I met the trio and eventually crossed Krautz Creek, roaring with the afternoon snowmelt. With no bridge it was clear there would be no available steppingstone crossing, so I took off socks to keep them dry, put my shoes back on, opened my hip belt for safety, and found a spot to wade across.  (If swept away by the current, the open hip belt allows the hiker to quickly shed the pack and – hopefully! – swim to safety.)  Even rolled up, the bottoms of my pants got wet.  That part was not too difficult, but on the other side, given the river was meandering across a wide basin of rocks and sand, it was worrisome not to see clear signs of the trail.

Erosion along the bank of Krautz Creek

I made my way across and upstream uncertainly, catching an occasional footprint as a hopeful guide (or were they just as lost as I was?).  Finally, I caught sight of a cairn and then another one on the other side.  Why hadn’t there been any on the near side?  It was the first time I had worried about losing my way.  The Wonderland Trail is NOT blazed, which I definitely appreciated after seeing the thousands of paint marks on trees in the Northeast, but this time I got a little nervous.  I left my socks off as Pyramid Creek was just a half mile ahead, but to my relief it had a kind of log bridge so I could have put my socks on after all.

Bridge across Pyramid creek

Uphill to Devil’s Dream

I headed up and up from there, when I noticed I was missing my green bandana, designated for sweat-wiping.  I thought hard about just leaving it, but had not really gone far, so I set down my pack and went back and was glad to find it.  Higher and higher I climbed through a long series of switchbacks, stopping often to catch my breath and slow my heart, until I crossed Fishers Hornpipe Creek.  What a name, right?

The bridge was also a little shaky but still workable and after crossing I decided to use my water filter for the first time to refill my water bottles.  Basically, it has a screw-on filter at the mouth, so I can fill the liter plastic bag with “dirty” water, screw in the filter cap, and then squeeze the water through that filter into my “clean” water bottles.  It worked like a charm then and throughout the trip.

As I was filling the bottles two strapping young women arrived followed by two older men, their parents I guessed.  The girls were seniors in high school and cross-country runners.  As I was gasping for breath, they were yawning!  Oh, to be young again!  Continuing up I met my first ranger (super nice) who dutifully checked my camping permit as all rangers did throughout the trip.  A bit farther still and… Devil’s Dream, about five hours after starting.

First Camp, Mosquitos Be Damned!

So, I set camp in Site 4 and as I pitched my tent experienced a brief panic that the stakes were missing!  (They were “hiding” under the ground sheet.)  This was only the second time I had ever pitched this tent and the process was made more difficult by the mosquitos that were swarming around.  They had made their appearance on the last mile of the trail.  I made chicken and rice from dehydrated food and cold water and worried after 25 minutes when I found the rice still hard in the center.  At the hour mark, however, it was perfectly edible.

In setting camp, I concluded why my pack was so DAMNED heavy – food!  I was carrying a ridiculous amount of food as I discovered when I tried to hoist my UrSack to the top of the bear pole.  These poles are available from the Park at every camp site and serve to keep all food high and out of reach from bears and other critters.  If the bears become habituated to human food, they may hurt someone and/or have to be euthanized. 

My only consolation on the overweight was that in three days I would pick up my cache at Mowich Lake where I could discard the excess food I had, and pick up less to match my newfound appreciation of what I might really need.  For the time being I would have to suffer and carry it all – oh well.  I tried to message Lee, but the inReach seemed not to like the reception in the woods.  Who knew it was so sensitive?  Also, there was a deer in the camp, but I had seen plenty of those before.  So, to bed.