The Final Day on the Northern Loop

Monday, September 9 – Day 4

Shortly after I wake and start stretching, I hear a series of phone alarms going off in the nearby tents. We are getting an earlier-than-usual start today, due to the higher mileage and subsequent long drive home. I woke up without my alarm, as I usually do on trail (but never in ‘real’ life), but still set one to be safe. 

We start exactly on time, but get caught up in a conversation with the ranger on the way out. My belief is if you run into a ranger on trail, always talk to them! The intel is valuable and they have some of the best stories. 

Battling Washout

The day starts with a 1400 foot loss over less than 2 miles to reach the west fork of the White River. The trails around Rainier are notorious for difficult water crossings, but this is the only one we’ve been nervous about. It can turn into several forks at this crossing, depending on snowmelt and what happens over the winter. Last year, some bridges were washed out, and the water here can be fast. Until we arrive at the shore, it’s unclear what we will face.

Margaret crosses the first log “bridge” on the West Fork White River.

The first small tributary is small and easy to rock-hop. The “island” following it is marked with pink flagging, leading us to a large downed tree that serves as the bridge. It is surrounded by other split downed trees, a log jam through which we can barely see the water. After scrambling over quite a few log jams, and traversing another island with yet more pink flagging, we are treated to a lovely, if simple, log bridge. It sits haphazardly on the rocks over the milky water. FarOut marks this source with a warning: Do not filter. I can see why. The silty water seems likely to clog most filters.

Our haphazard log bridge, the final crossing of the West Fork White River over the milky water. 

Despite all the mental build-up, this crossing was not as bad as we worried it could be. The river is certainly wild, changing its course after every winter. I understand how it would be nerve-wracking earlier in the season. In September, it is lower and simpler to cross.

The Second Hardest Climb?

As it customary on this trail, what goes steeply down must then go steeply up. Our next climb isn’t quite as rough as yesterday’s climb to Yellowstone Cliffs, but still averages a 14% grade. As we did yesterday, we plan a meeting point partway up, allowing us each to go our own pace. 

I consume my traditional pre-incline Gu energy gel, turn on my podcast, and quickly find a groove. The grade is steep, but noticeably easier than yesterday. Before I know it, over 1.5 miles have passed. I haven’t stopped once, maintaining my preferred slow but steady pace. My heart rate is noticeably lower than the previous three days of hiking. It always amazes me how I can notice significant cardio improvement in just a few days on trail.

I grin and immediately challenge myself to climb all the way to our meeting spot without a break. It was only in the last few years, as I started hiking in earnest, that I have discovered the joy of physical accomplishment. Now, when the opportunity arises, I relish the physical gains younger me never thought I could make.

Equipment Failures

Shortly before our meeting point, the chafing from Day 2 makes an angry return. It appeared yesterday a bit, but since I was sweating so much from the strenuous climb I didn’t question it. Today, though, it is worse. Much worse. The lower side of the reinforced rear of my pants is rubbing on the back and inside of my thigh, over and over. No matter how I adjust them, it persists. I try using sunblock as a salve, and then lotion, both of which temporarily help but don’t last.

Unfortunately, it’s not limited to my legs. The arms of my sun hoodie are also performing similarly. When I remove my shirt to check, my armpit is bright red from the friction. We’re not even halfway through the day. 

I did not rinse in the creek yesterday due to the icy water, despite sweating excessively all day. I have been on plenty of hikes where I didn’t rinse off, with no issues, but clearly the heat wave and the grade of the trails has combined to make that lethal for my poor skin. My wet wipe bath was not effective enough. Unfortunately, I have no choice but to grin and bear it for the rest of today. The irony is that part of my reason for completing difficult hikes is to get comfortable being uncomfortable, but I wasn’t willing to soak in ice cold water. Lesson learned. 

Tahoma Returns

We meet up at the turnoff for Fire Creek camp, but don’t linger long. At only a mile or two from our planned lunch spot, we are eager to continue. We step aside twice for park workers carrying giant barrels to Fire Creek camp. I will gladly cede my uphill right-of-way for folks carrying that much for this beautiful park!

The last bit of the incline is a grind, and I huff and puff my way around the corner to find myself suddenly out of the trees. There, right in front of me, is Mama Tahoma herself. The smoke of the previous days has cleared.  After not seeing her at all yesterday, I am stunned into tears. 

No caption needed. The beauty speaks for itself, but a picture cannot capture the enormity of this mountain.

This is why I hike.

There’s nothing like the feeling of earning a view like this through sheer physical grit. There have been so many great moments on this loop, but this stands out as the true highlight of this trail for me. The view lifts me and carries me the rest of the day.

We stop for lunch in Grand Park, one of the notable open meadows of MRNP. During wildflower season, this must be an incredible place. We have a lovely lunch in the shade and watch, surprised, as a day hiker passes with their off-leash chihuahua. (Dogs are not allowed in MRNP except for on the PCT, which we are not near, and leashes are required. Grand Park is known for bear activity, and this poor little dog wouldn’t stand a chance.) 

The meadow just ahead is full of wildflowers in peak season. Sadly, we are a month too late.

After lunch, our next goal is water.  There are 8 miles between James Camp and our next water source, giving the climbs this morning an extra edge from carrying more water weight. Our water source is on the lower edge of Berkeley Park, the next highlight for the day. Here, we slowly wind up the most enchanting meadows, so charming I imagine they must be full of fairies and magical creatures. Each view that opens is better than the last.  There is a sense of peace and tranquility here that is unique from everything else we’ve seen.

Berkeley Park. Honestly, is this real? I swear a saw a fairy flitting near that babbling brook.

It’s hard to focus on the beauty, though. The last few miles have been nearly unbearable for me with the chafing, as both my pants and sun hoodie slowly, painfully fail. On the final climb, I strongly consider just ripping everything off but my bra and underwear. If it wasn’t for the effort required, I honestly might have. 

The end of the Northern Loop

After winding up through fairy meadows, we reach a notable trail marker. Here, the Northern Loop ends. This isn’t the end of the trail, as we are still about 2 miles from the Sunrise trailhead. But, it is where the Loop splits from the Wonderland. From here on out, we’ve walked these trails. 

The five of us at the Northern Loop sign. Left to right: Me, Margaret, Lauren, Ame, Markdavin. (Photo credit Markdavin Obenza)

As we wearily walk our final steps to the trailhead, Tahoma begins to hide her head with a blanket of clouds. I’m grateful for the incredible, in-your-face view we saw earlier, as she is nearly hidden now. She graces you with her presence only when she chooses, so every view is truly a gift. 

The mountain is not out now.

I have never changed out of clothes as fast as I do when we return to the parking lot. I find open sores on the backs and insides of my thighs from my hiking pants failing – ouch. A wet wipe, fresh (soft) clothing, and a bag of Dill Pickle chips are my well-earned reward. 

The Taste of Accomplishment

Today was beautiful, especially with that amazing view of Tahoma. And yet it was the longest and hardest day of the trip. Months later, I remember the beauty the most, not the difficulty, heavy water carry, or painful chafing. This is true of the whole trip. 

I remember giggling in our campsite at Carbon River, marveling at the smoky sunset at Mystic Lake, and the pride of reaching the top of a hard climb more than I remember the many pains and discomforts we faced. Of course, this is Type 2 fun at its finest. But after a third summer in a row of challenging hiking, I can now conclude there’s more to it. These journeys have made me notably more resilient and optimistic. I see silver linings easier and handle set-backs better. I listen to others more empathetically. And I feel better about my own body and give her more grace for all she has done. Trips like this show me that the beautiful moments that make me cry of joy often are accompanied by moments that bring tears of pain, and the balance makes me feel whole somehow.

This journey was hard, but mostly it was beautiful. I learned so many great things about my friends and about myself. And, importantly, I learned that the Wonderland is something I am capable of. My largest goal in 2025 is to hike the Wonderland solo, and this journey gave me the experience and confidence to do it. I cannot wait.

Day 4 Mileage: 11.6 miles 
Elevation gain/loss: 4300 gain/ 2800 loss
Highlight: The incredible straight shot view of the mountain
Lowlight: Chafing. Definitely chafing.

My favorite moment of the trip, if I had to choose. When mother mountain decided to show her full beauty. (L to R: Me, Margaret, Ame, Lauren, Markdavin. Photo credit Markdavin Obenza)

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Comments 2

  • Jacqueline : Jan 18th

    Wow, this is all so terrific. Congratulations to you for such a huge accomplishment and the physical fitness you have attained! you have done really great!

    Reply
    • Ruth : Jan 21st

      Thank you!

      Reply

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