Snoqualmie Pass Overnight, July 6-7 2010

I had some work in Seattle in July, and in order to both save money and make best use of good summer weather, I thought I'd go camping on my one free night, instead of staying in a hotel.  I got out of rehearsal around lunchtime, then hurried out I-90 to Snoqualmie Pass, the lowest pass in the Cascades (with the obvious exception of the Columbia River Gorge, which isn't your normal pass, anyway).  I wanted to visit a spectacular area I'd seen the summer before.  That didn't turn out, but I still had a pleasant night out.

At the trailhead, there were notices that snow covered the area, just uphill from the trailhead.  At this point, I decided to give a go at it anyway, and not worry about reaching my destination.  Instead, I'd just walk up as far as practical, and take photos of whatever presented itself.

The trail started out like normal:

Soon, though, I was running into large patches of ice-crusted snow.  I detoured from the main route to a viewpoint of Source Lake, which is the source of South Fork Snoqualmie River.  

Working my way up from there required rough route finding and lots of decision making.  Walking on this slippery snow can be dangerous- a slip and fall can be painful, and falling on a steep slope with a bad landing can break bones.  These are an example of the cognitive challenges for which I've named this blog.  Every hundred feet or so calls for a routefinding decision.  The variables are snow quality and depth, angle of slope, the "run-out" or area beneath the slope, presence or absence of trees (they can stop a fall, but their presence means that there are possibly unstable snow bridges built over downed logs- if you step on one, you can suddenly plunge in several feet to the ground beneath; never pleasant, and sometimes bruising!), and above all, remaining oriented and picking an efficient path to your goal.  

I've never had much trouble staying oriented here in the Cascades- since I always have a good map, I can read the contours of the land, and compare with what I'm seeing.  It's different in flatter places, and different in heavily wooded canyons.  If I was traveling in Maine woods, or probably even the Smokies, I'd have much less confidence.  

I've only been mis-oriented once, with a friend.  We were looking for a road under many feet of snow, and somehow managed to pass over it twice before ending up pointed in exactly the wrong direction.  We recognized some familiar landmarks that were in exactly the wrong place, and got out the compass, which naturally pointed up back in the right direction.  It was a humbling and also sort of exciting experience.  I enjoyed using my brain to find myself.  

I had to meet back up with the main trail by following a big ridge over about half a mile or so.  I walked up the safest route I could, and took my time.  Kicking steps into the snow takes energy and time.  I should point out that this kind of travel isn't really all that big a deal- it's not mountaineering, and it's the way a lot of people hike in the winter and spring, up here in these northern places.

Looking up the ridge:

I walked over the top of the ridge and viewed Snow Lake, which I had walked past almost a year ago, in beautiful summer weather. . . and not a flake of snow anywhere.  The late spring was a big disappointment.

Once at the top of the ridge, I could also see off the other side, back to the Alpental Village, which is a ski resort community down in the valley:

I scouted out a few places to catch morning sunrise light, and settled in for the night.  I managed to find a tiny sliver of dry ground.  I know it's okay to sleep on snow, and I hear that it's not all that bad.  But I have a philosophical aversion to camping on snow in mid July.  I just think it's wrong to have to do it, so I took the time to find a nice soft spot of real dirt!  

The next morning, I got up way too early (should have checked the weather to see when the sun rose).  So I waited in my photo spot for 20 or so minutes.  Sitting on a sleeping pad on snow, waiting for the sun to rise.  

I was rewarded when the sun came up, but couldn't find a really cool vantage point to exploit the light.  Compared to the last trip out here, this was a bust.  But it was still a pleasant bust.  All photos are of Chair Peak, I'm pretty sure.    

I walked down out of the mountains, and was at the car by about 8 am.  I was back in Seattle for rehearsal at about 11am, after having a nice hot breakfast in a restaurant at the Pass.  That's frontcountry hiking for ya!

Hope you enjoyed.