Thoughts on The End — Wonderland Trail Day Ten

(Maple Creek to Longmire.  Per my AllTrails app (adjusted):  Length: 11.0 miles; Elevation gain: 2,500 ft.; Moving Time: 5:00; Total Time: 6:40)

Waking to the Dilemma of the Slide

I slept like a king.  I do remember a dream.  In it I met a famous leader and told him what I thought of him quite bluntly, then suffered all sorts of troubling consequences.  As that memory faded, I was awake and worrying about the landslide up ahead on the trail, and wondering what I should do.  This was the slide I mentioned in my last post, where the trail was officially closed.

Options A and B — not listed was Option C

I knew I needed to see it before I could really decide what to do, but that didn’t stop me from picking at the issue in my brain.

It felt like I got moving a little late, but it was still well before seven, and I still got in my morning constitutional — I think hiking must be good for bowel regularity!  Fortunately, the damned flies seemed to be late risers.

Faithful App Fails — Is This an Omen?

On the trail the AllTrails app failed me for the first time and did not start registering my hike until I had been on the trail a couple of miles.  I even tried stopping and restarting it, but no luck.  At least it eventually found the signal!  That is why the numbers at the start of of this blog post are listed as “adjusted.”  I tried my best to calculate what they would have been if AllTrails had worked properly throughout the day’s hike.

Crossing the Slide — Time to Choose a Route

Up and up I went, looking at the topography nervously, especially the slides on the opposite side of the canyon.  Finally, I spotted the sign that I had arrived — a red flag signaling the place I should go down if I were going to skirt the slide.  The river bottom route was far below, and the way down did not look well marked, though a plausible bushwhack.  I figured I would go forward and have a look at the slide itself before deciding my course.

There it was, such a short spot and, though a little tricky, really not bad at all.

After all my worrying, this seemed just too easy!

After crossing I wondered why they had even rerouted for such a minor event.  Then I continued around the corner and discovered the real thing.  It was an extended large slide that had wiped out much of the trail for perhaps 50-75 yards, with the center portion just sand and gravel at a steep angle. 

Yeah, this was a little — well, a LOT — sketchier!

Below was a long, long drop onto a rocky pile of rubble.  If a fall did not result in death, it would certainly lead to grave injuries.

Trust me, it was even steeper than it looks in the picture…

I could turn around and go back to the red flag, or I could go forward.  I took a deep breath and went forward.

Having the poles was key.  They allowed for four points of contact with the slope.  I also planted my feet fully, to ensure maximum frictional contact.  Previous passers had left a few footprints and I used them when I could.  I focused on the task.  I did not look down.

The whole crossing probably took only a couple of minutes, though it felt very long.  It was a huge relief to regain the trail on the other side.  Then I saw the third slide.

This third crossing is not too bad, but the hidden undercut is treacherous

In some ways it might have been the most dangerous.  In appearance it was just to the side of the existing trail.  But beware!  It was not obvious, but the slide had deeply undercut the trail.  Seeing this I was careful to go above the trail as far as I could safely go, recognizing it would not be long before that portion of “trail” would be sitting in the river bottom!

Now I wondered, what next?  So it was a great relief to eventually see the red flag marking the route up on the other side — I was through!

Looking at the unmarked path from the river bottom, even higher on this side, I concluded it might have been a slightly safer route around the slide, but still a long and exhausting one.  I did not regret my choice, but decided I would not recommend it to others.  If enough persons tried the route I took, it seemed a grave accident would eventually be inevitable.  I was just immensely relieved that that unfortunate person had not been me!

After the Slides, Waterfalls!

Further upward I continued, stepping more lightly now, past a waterfall (Martha’s Falls) where a couple of folks with fancy equipment were photographing the cascade.

The bridge with Martha’s Falls behind it

I got an amusing picture of the photographer leaning over his camera on its tripod, with his butt out, and the falls beyond.  Luckily, he had a sense of humor and laughed when I showed it to him.

Couldn’t resist photographing the photographer — especially in THAT pose!

Up some more, then I was crossing the park road.  Civilization!  (Or, as I call it, “Silly-Visation.”)  In the meantime, the overcast had grown heavier, and some light rain fell, so I moved valuables into the plastic bags I was carrying.  My rain gear was so poor I really didn’t want to have to use it.  Of course, as soon as I made these arrangements, the rain stopped and I continued upwards, thinking that soon all of the remaining trail would be downhill.

Fastest Known Time

Louise Lake came up on the right and, despite my eagerness to finish, I determined to take the side trail to the lake.  This decision raised a theme I often thought of when the trail runners went by, as they did with surprising frequency, maybe once or twice a day.  Apparently, those not vying for records try to run the whole Wonderland Trail in three days, at 30+ miles per day.  (This impresses me, but the Unsupported Fastest Known Time is 18 hours, 49 minutes, and 11 seconds — gasp!!! faint!!!).

While running for three days may be great exercise, it is a terrible way to do the Wonderland Trail.  If you do not watch your feet, carefully and constantly, you will go splat!  So, surrounded by some of the world’s finest scenery, if you are running you will mostly see rocks and roots and trail (and your feet).  Even just hiking the route in six days or less would mean sticking to a speed and schedule that would not allow much flexibility for side adventures.

At my slow speed I still felt a bit pressured due to being out of shape, especially at the beginning.  But once I got my trail legs, and began starting my days on the trail before 7 a.m., I generally had time to enjoy my surroundings and take the odd side trip if I fancied it.  (Or even, occasionally, when I didn’t fancy it, as in Spray Park where I got lost and had my unplanned “adventure.”)

After the Waterfalls, Lakes!

Louise Lake was beautiful in a sort of lonely, mournful way under the overcast sky.

Louise Lake on an overcast day

I was alone there.  Further on a separate unnamed lake slid past and then I was onto a sidewalk along the side of the road for a couple hundred yards before arriving at Reflection Lake and the tourists there.  Too bad for them a breeze was ruffling the surface and Rainier was NOT reflected, as advertised.  Perhaps they could get their money back?

After the Lakes, More Waterfalls!

The trail went back across the road for the last time and now I was definitely going down.  At Narada Falls I got a young couple to take my picture and I took theirs.  I also took a video of myself.

I also did a selfie video at Narada Falls

Further down I broke for a snack at Paradise River.  I thought it proper, given the name, to take my last water there.  Below that I spotted a relic from years ago.  It was a penstock, which is a wooden water sluice that was built in the 1920s to transport water from a dam on the Paradise River to a hydroelectric power plant.  While the plant was abandoned in the 1970’s, some of the penstock is still there.

The wooden penstock near Carter Falls

Down further, and gradually more people were around before I crossed the roaring Nisqually River churning with grey glacial till coming down from the Nisqually Glacier.  The far end of the bridge was almost under water as I crossed, and I worried that much more snow melt (or rain) might carry it away.

I felt a kind of nostalgia washing over me as I continued descending.  My time on the trail would soon be over, and I was not sure I was ready to return to my “normal” life.  Yet down and down I went, closer and closer, and then it was there — Longmire!

I had made it.  I had completed the Wonderland Trail.

Arrival and a Few Final Thoughts

Soon after, I was in the National Park Inn eating my first restaurant service meal in ten days.  The staff thoughtfully placed me as far as possible from other guests who might be offended by my malodorous state.  I had thought about ordering the burger, but the idea of fresh salad was too tempting to pass up.  I did hope the kale salad with grilled shrimp would go down better than the damned hot dog at Sunrise!

It also felt great to really wash my hands with soap and hot water (although even after three washings I still had some grime under my fingernails).  The warm blackberry cobbler with a scoop of vanilla was marvelous, as was my first cup of coffee (with a refill!) in ten days.  I took my midday chemotherapy, four big horse-choker pills, and I thought, “F*** Cancer!”

It was early afternoon when I got in the car and headed for home.  A few miles down the road my phone began to ping wildly.  I had restored connection to the outside world and ten days’ worth of messages were pouring into my queue.  I called my wife Lee and my mother to reassure them that all was well.  Then I texted the kids and my sisters with the same message.

It felt strange to be back in touch, linked again to the world from which I had been sheltered for ten days.  A part of me was glad to be back, but a part of me wanted to turn the car around, and return to the mountain, go back to Tahoma.

When Alice visited Wonderland, she had surprising adventures with bizarre characters.  My time in Wonderland was different, but it did reaffirm our powerful connection to nature.  I felt it very personally, but I also felt it for all of us, for all my brothers and sisters.  On Earth, we humans are important players, and our actions can determine how we live and even whether we live.  For our own sakes, as a species, I hope we can learn to live in better harmony with each other and with nature.  That we have the wisdom to preserve places like Mount Rainier National Park gives me some hope, even when opening the daily newspaper points more towards despair.  We fight terrible wars, deny our impact on the global climate, build more nuclear weapons.  When viewed against the stark beauty of the stars, however, the Universe exhibits a cool indifference to our fate.  Our struggles fade into insignificance.  We are on our own.