Early Winter in the Highlands Part 3 of 4: Summitting Haley Mountain

Early Winter in the Highlands Part 3 of 4: Summitting Haley Mountain

By Kathy Vaughan

     The first of the cold temperatures each winter feel so extreme. When the single digit days came in late November, my friend Lisa and I decided it was time to attempt a climb on my back yard peak, Haley Mountain.  At just over 5,000 feet in elevation, this mountain presides over the Forest Service road and it's surrounding playground where I spend a lot of time year round. In the spring, summer and fall, I love to run and bike on this road and its connectors. In the winter, I put on my Fisher Back Country skis and make tracks. I feel so blessed to have this public land available for my use. It is even more fun when I have opportunities to share it with others, like during the Highlands Halloween Hundred Trail Un-run (H3) Ras and I host in October each year.  

     I felt stoked to have this adventure planned that I could share with Lisa. Our Chesaw Short-Tail Grouse Preserve hike had been so great that I wanted to have a day of at least equal excitement.

     The afternoon served up a good dose of excitement for us that equaled many of our other adventures. To start with, the day's high temperatures only reached about 9 degrees. It was chilly. It was the kind of cold that makes it so that you can't stop moving, you can't take off your gloves for more than a second and your water freezes shortly after you've left the warm comfort of your home or car.

     Lisa and I left my house and traveled along the snowy single track trail for about 1/4 of a mile before we reached the Forest Service road. We decided to hike to Haley Divide, roughly 4 1/2 miles away along a gentle uphill grade, gaining about 900 feet in elevation. We kept up a good pace to keep warm and chatted all along the way. Before we knew it, we had reached the divide. We decided to turn toward Haley and start climbing. 

      Earlier as we had climbed along the road, we could see a ridge line that would have taken us to the top. We could have approached this line by taking a number of different connector roads off of the main service road. We decided against this plan for two reasons. The first reason was that Ras and I had seen a huge hunter's camp being set up just a few days prior, in the area of these connector roads. The season was open for bow hunting. A camp that took several pickup loads of gear to set up was intimidating for Lisa and I to be too near. We did not want to cross paths with these guys. We are both courageous in the back country, but this seemed like asking for trouble.

     The second reason for just taking the main road straight to the base of Haley and climbing up from there, was that 8 degrees is bitterly, and even dangerously, cold. We were bundled up well, but we didn't want to waste any time exploring unnecessarily. It would be worth tackling any terrain we came across to take a straightforward approach to the summit.

     Lisa opened a package of Hand Warmers as we climbed over blowdowns and worked our way from the divide to the flank of Haley. We started our climb, carefully and confidently. I followed Lisa's lead. The snow was scant, and it didn't cause any problems for us. It was so cold that the snow was bone dry and had no icy or slippery quality to it at all. After about 10 minutes of climbing, we came to a band of large, stable rocks. Off to the right, we could clearly see cliffs. This was not the way to go. To the left, the grade was much steeper and the rocks were the same as they were directly in front of us. We had already been climbing over some rocks and were finding good, stable footing. We decided to continue straight through. 

     I was wearing my Altra Lone Peak 1.5 trail running shoes. I had thick Smart Wool socks on and my feet were staying warm. The wide toe box in the Altras allows for thicker socks in winter without causing the shoes to become too tight. I was finding good footing and I was impressed with the way my Altras were flexible enough to squeeze into tight spots between rocks. The grippy soles clung onto the rocks as I scrambled over the top of them, now on all fours. The lug soles grabbed into the frozen earth, topped with a skiff of snow, each time I stepped on solid ground rather than rock. I checked each foot placement a couple of times before committing; a mistake would mean big trouble up here in this type of cold. I never felt shaky. I moved slowly and surely. I watched Lisa up ahead of me. 

     The views from this vantage point, high on the side of Haley Mountain, amongst the huge rocks that made up this hunk of geography, were outstanding. I could see far below to the Okanogan River valley. I was surprised that I could see it from here. There were many other surrounding hills. The most dramatic of the views were those right in front of me though. The trees on this mountain were huge. Remains of silvered snags still stood; massive, withered and covered in bright green lichen. Old giant pine and fir trees towered around Lisa and I as we climbed towards the summit. 

     Finally, we came out of the rocks and the grade became easier. I was able to stand up and hike again. I felt powerful and brave. I was climbing up this peak I had only looked towards the top of for about 4 years now. I had always wanted to climb it but had never committed to it as I had on this day, with this adventure partner. We were doing it, despite the frigid air, the snow, the at first seemingly threatening rock band. We were now just hiking up through dried grasses and some of the most mystical giants amongst whom I had ever walked. We both slowed down and looked around in awe. We were quiet, almost rendered speechless. When we did speak, the only thing either of us could come up with with was, "There sure are some big trees up here." 

     Several of the bigger trees, mainly pine, had been struck by lightening. The character of these trees was interesting and added to the mysticism of our surroundings. There was very little undergrowth, as is common to these North Central Washington forests. We could easily hike under and through this forest of ancient trees, both living and scarred from either lightening, mistle toe disease, or wind damage. No logging had ever occurred here. I saw what seemed to be cattle trails. This interested me as I really thought we should find a different way down. I had a hard time imagining myself making my way down the steep rock band. Coming up it had been challenging enough. I pointed out these trails to Lisa and she agreed that we could check them out on the way back down.

     We kept climbing towards the true summit of Haley. There were many little basins to drop down into and hills to climb back up as we worked our way to the high point, and no clear views now that we were off of it's steep, lower flanks. The snow was getting deeper and the afternoon was drawing on. The sun was getting lower in the sky and the temperatures were dropping. We decided that we would turn around at 3:00 p.m., whether or not we had reached the top, so that we would have plenty of time to climb down before dark. We had headlamps we could pull out for the service road where navigating in the dark would be much easier.

     About 15 minutes after we made this decision, Lisa and I topped out.  We took a selfie and immediately turned in the wrong direction to start our descent. We realized right away that we needed to follow our earlier footsteps in the snow. I led the way. It was fun to scamper down the slopes. We were soon at the cattle/game trails. Cattle are allowed to free range in here , so it would not have been out of the question that they wander around up here in the warmer summer months. This is also an area where moose, elk, and deer travel and they could have created these paths.

     Lisa pointed out to me that the game trails might lead to watering holes rather than a direct way down the mountain. She suggested that it might be best to stick to the rocks, the same way that we had come up. I told her that I knew I could do it, but that it might feel a little bit intimidating to me once we got there. We also said to each other that it probably wasn't even that long of a stretch of the climb that we were actually in the steep, rocky area. It would seem like less of a big deal on the way down. And it was. I again followed Lisa's lead through this area. I liked the technical challenge to foot placement, the careful focus it took to work through this area and the overall sense of adventure I was experiencing. Before I knew it, we were out of the rocks and working our way back towards the divide. I felt giddy and joked with Lisa at how much easier it seemed to me than I initially thought. Then I slipped as I was getting ready to climb over a large downed tree. My knee came down hard on a frozen rock and because of the cold, the pain was riveting. I knew I wasn't injured and there was no time to mess around anyway, so I just took some deep breaths while Lisa made sure I was okay. I was just happy that it had happened where it did, after the technical rock scrambling, where a fall could have meant something serious. 

     We got back out to the service road and hiked fast towards the warmth of my house where I had red lentil soup waiting in the crock pot. I had also baked vegan pumpkin bars. Lisa had brought fresh spring rolls and this feast by the woodstove would warm us after our final 4 1/2 mile easy downhill hike. 

     Interestingly, our bodies felt warm enough in the cold dark as we hiked. The only place that got painfully cold on both Lisa and I was our hips and outer thighs. I guess the muscles in these areas of our legs were not having to work very hard during downhill hiking so they just couldn't stay warm enough. It was now about zero out. I decided next time I head out in these kind of temps, I will need another base layer for my lower body. I had on 2 wool hats, 1 fleece UltraPedestrian beanie, a Smart Wool neck warmer, the hood from my Smart Wool sweater, the hood from my Brooks' Thermal Hoodie and the hood from my down puffy. Head warmth is important and it is also easy to shed these layers as body warmth increases. I like to bring a dry pair of gloves with me as well. Even on really cold days, my hands will perspire from the work of uphill hiking, running or cross country skiing. It is important to have dry gloves for moving downhill, when your energy output is less and it will take more help from layers to keep warm. I like to bring my down puffy in my pack to put on for any pausing on the trail or for when my body temperature decreases on the downhill. Sometimes I might end up shedding it again after I'm warmed up. I try to keep in mind that in a situation where I'm injured, it will be well worth having this extra layer. If I am going to be out for more than an hour in the winter weather, I will bring along a pair of down puffy pants as well. I use my What An Adventure (WAA) pack which accommodates these extra layers easily. I like the front and side pouches for convenient access when I just don't have the ability to fiddle around in the cold. I had my Hand Warmers up front, just in case. It was easy to stow away my Black Diamond Ultra Distance Z poles in the back of the pack in outer mesh pockets when I no longer needed them on the technical down climbing.

    Five hours later, now sitting by the woodstove, Lisa and I enjoyed filling Ras in on the details of our climb and having a cup of hot tea. I felt exhilerated and was excited to tell him about the old forest and the rock scrambling. Our hips and outer thighs began to feel painful and burn as they warmed up again. We had the soup and spring rolls and began scheming on future winter adventures. 

     I like the idea of climbing some more local peaks in the winter. It creates a whole new level to approaching a local peak when the days are colder and shorter; the air is windier and carries with it a chilling bite; snow is underfoot; and the color of the sky imparts a sense of seriousness to the undertaking.     

Early Winter in the Highlands: Part 2 of 4

Early Winter in the Highlands Part 2 of 4: Short-Tailed Grouse Preserve

By Kathy Vaughan

     Ras and I moved to the Okanogan Highlands about 12 years ago. We moved from Bellingham so that we could buy a piece of land, build our own small home and raise our daughter, homeschooling her ourselves. We wanted to live simply. We found our 5 acre spot along Mary Ann Creek in the Chesaw area. Directly across from our property is a Short-Tail Grouse Preserve. This land extends as far as the eye can see and beyond. It nears the Canadian border. The area has a rich history and many old homestead buildings remain. There are old root cellars and stone buildings, barns of silvered wood still standing, pieces of old farming equipment, abandoned claims from the gold mining era and lots of old road beds to follow.

     Although I enjoy seeing the remains of the area's history, my main interest is these old road beds. They make awesome running paths as well as cross-country ski trails for winter. Ras and I have since moved from our little cabin we built on our 5 acres and our daughter, Angela, has gone off to college. We now live in a big home that we caretake. But my friend Lisa still lives near these trails and she explores this area often. She invited me to join her for an all day trek that would begin at the trail head near my cabin and end at her house on the other side of the town of Chesaw. We would hike across the grassy hills and down into draws, wooded with aspen. We would find our way across the hills, summitting the high point, Strawberry Mountain, before making our way back down to dirt road again. Lisa's house is along this dirt road. We didn't really know how long it would take us, exactly what route we would take to get there, or what our mileage would be. This turned out to be the beauty of the day.

     I drove to Lisa's house in the morning and picked her up. We left my car at the trail head that enters the preserve near my cabin and took off into the grassy landscape. There were some patches of snow, but mainly the ground was bare and the grasses were dead. There were lots of choices of road beds to follow, some mowed by Fish and Wildlife during the summer months. We decided to first climb to a lake near an area called Bootlegger's Pass we had both heard of before. Legend has it that the pass crosses into Canada and was used to transport liquor across the border back in the day. Before Ras and I were ultra runners, we used to wander around these hills with  Angela, but we hadn't made it as far as the lake. I was intrigued by what we might find.

     We reached the lake and it was frozen. We named it Horseshoe Lake. It had an island in the center we could walk out to. The surrounding draws were mysterious and dark. They were filled with thick fir trees. Rocky outcrops dotted the landscape. Mostly we just saw grassy hillsides, but the rocky areas and wooded draws were inviting. We chose to hike towards them and down into their reaches. As we climbed back out, we would choose the next one to hike to. We continued across the preserve in this way, sometimes hiking towards an old homestead, sometimes towards a stand of trees. It was freeing and relaxing. I imagined what it would be like to have been a Native American in these lands or a homesteader, trying to survive the harsh climate of winter and the dry desolate summers. 

     When Lisa asked me whether we should head for the lower ground or towards the distant summit of Strawberry Mountain, my answer came quickly. I definitely wanted to climb the mountain I could see. We still had about an hour and a half of wandering through the hills before we would reach its base. We hiked through several more of these old aspen groves; the white bark of the trees bare of leaves were visible from a distance away. The homesteaders liked these groves because it usually meant water nearby. Aspen require a source of water and in this area it is usually an underground spring. Sometimes small ponds or lakes are nearby. The trees rot at their bases over time and many of these groves have lots of downed trees. The center of the tree rots as well, and a round cut out of a log of aspen can be carved into a nice hand drum. 

     An abandoned home and a large, frozen lake were at the base of Strawberry Mountain. Another old road headed out past the lake and off into an area I would like to get back to on skis. But for now, it was time to climb to the summit. It was a steady climb but not technical at all and soon we were at the top. We had a 360 degree view. To the east, we could see the Kettle Crest Range. Up north, the snow capped peaks of Canadian mountains loomed. Just below the mountain, we could see the homes of local Chesaw folks situated on carefully chosen hillocks, along creeks, or near stands of fir trees. The sky was blue and the wind was still. At my feet, I was astonished to see a form of life, so tiny and yet protected from the cold temperatures in a way only nature can perfect. Piles of ladybugs were tucked under the rocks. There were hundreds of these little beetles. Lisa had seen them there in the past. This is a place they call home in the harsh conditions of winter, in a high mountain desert landscape at about 4,300 feet in elevation. 

     It was a blast barreling down the mountain. We got to the bottom and saw one more idyllic setting for homestead remains, several buildings this time. I stopped to take one last look, knowing dusk was approaching and we were getting closer to Lisa's house.  These scattered homes were so mysterious to me. I wondered out loud to Lisa if the children at this home might have gone over Strawberry Mountain to visit the children at the home alongside Strawberry Lake. I think they probably would have.

     We were able to easily follow a roadbed that descended all the way down to the dirt road that passes in front of Lisa's home. We walked up her driveway in the dark and stepped inside to the warmth of wood heat and the complex fragrance of a vegan curry dish, wafting from her kitchen. 
     

UltraPedestrian Podcast Episode #003

UltraPedestrian Podcast Episode #003

   

Ultrarunning & Trail Culture for the 99%

FREE DOWNLOAD HERE

Ras discusses supported vs self supported vs unsupported

Heather Anderson Anish Hikes gives us a peek inside her record setting thruhike of the Pacific Crest Trail

Brandon Lott shares his experience of running the 350 mile Iditarod Trail Invitational

Kathy gives a crew and pacing report for the Lumberjack Endurance Runs

Hosted by Ras

FREE DOWNLOAD HERE

Early Winter in the Highlands: Part 1 of 4

Early Winter in the Highlands Part 1 of 4: Whistler Canyon Tofu Trot

By Kathy Vaughan

     Once fall season comes to a close, the weather and landscape take on another change. Sometimes the days are gray, cold and uninviting. There have been skiffs of snow, but not enough to put on cross-country skis yet. The draw to go outside and do a long run or hike, can have a tendency to weaken. 

     This year, I have been blessed with one exhilerating adventure after another. I made sure to plan out fun and challenging trips, write them down on my calendar and my on-going lists of ultra running plans and then follow through with them, despite what Mother Nature decided to serve up weather-wise. This is the first in a series of blog posts I am writing on these trips.

     The Tofu Trot Twenty-nine and a half miler is a run Ras and l conceptualized to run on Thanksgiving. We were doing the run on the 28th of November, so we decided to make it a 28 mile distance. We decided to run the 100 trail, including the Black Diamond Lake loop in its entirety and part of the Wild Horse Springs Loop. We would run from the river valley up into the highlands as an out n' back, including ventures onto these other loops. In reality, we ended up with 29.5 miles, thus the name change to reflect the proper distance we had run.

     The 100 trail is a part of the Pacific Northwest Scenic Trail and also a part of the H3 course, where Ras and I hold a a trail ultra Halloween weekend each year.  We decided to start down in the Okanogan River valley at the Whistler Canyon trail head. We can also access the north end of the trail right out our door. We already had some snow on the ground around our house and we knew the trail would have snow on it up high as well. Down in the valley, the temperatures are warmer and the trail would be mostly clear of snow. So, we decided to start down lower.

     We arrived at the trail head at about 8:30 in the morning and after a few preparations at the car, we made our way to the trail. Some movement caught my eye and when I looked in that direction, I saw the rump of a Big Horn Mountain Sheep running through the dry grass lands at the base of the canyon walls. I pointed it out to Ras and then we both noticed there were a lot more that this one was running towards. Ras wanted to take some pictures up close, so he ran off towards where the herd was gathering and climbing the steep cliffs. It was very cool to see how they moved in such an agile way up the rocks, stopping on a high ledge to look back down towards Ras. He lost count at some point, but the herd was about 40 strong.

     Putting the camera away, we started the steep climb on single track, through rocks, dry grasses, fragrant sage brush, small juniper trees and withered fir. The view down to the river valley became more visible at first as we climbed and then more distant as we wound our way into the canyon walls. 

     After a little over 2 miles, we reached the southern trail head to the Black Diamond Lake loop. I had been up this trail before with Ras and also with my friend and running partner Shona. We had not yet been able to make it all the way around the loop without missing a turn, so Ras and I were determined to take the time to figure it out today.

     We followed the trail easily as it climbed steadily for a couple of miles. Soon we reached a series of several frozen lakes. Ras saw a blob of bright white off to his right near one of these lakes, in amongst mostly brown and dry leaves. As he looked at the white that had caught his attention, he realized it was a snow shoe hare, sitting perfectly still. The hare had already turned completely white, its winter camoflauge. It seemed to be sitting frozen, thinking that its camo was working. It is so unusual to see one of these critters up close, that we paused to watch it for several minutes. I see their tracks and a flash of white in the snow quite often while out cross country skiing in the winter. I felt honored to have this moment of stillness with the normally elusive snow shoe hare.

Someone's camouflage isn't working.

     Just beyond these lakes, the trail takes a sharp hairpin turn. This is where I have gotten turned around in the past, but this time Ras and I were able to easily find our way through this section and continue  around the loop. After about 5 miles, we were back on the 100 trail again. It was great to make our way around the loop. Now, it is one of my favorite local runs. I love the way the single track twists and turns through the trees, topping out in a section mixed with huge rocks and grassy overlooks. Then, after the hairpin turn, the trail goes along the rim of a small, yet deep canyon. This section ends at another grassy bluff and then winding through the trees again, until the loop closes at the intersection with the 100 trail again. Starting from Whistler Canyon trail head and doing the loop as a lollipop, the distance is 9.5 miles.

     Back on the 100 trail, Ras and I now had some more climbing to do. We were now simply doing an out n' back and we would turn around at the    mile point. The climb was gradual yet persistent. We enjoyed settling into a steady pace, chatting as we moved and keeping warm by not making any stops. There were patches of snow, but for the most part, the trail was just frozen hard. We reached a nice section of easily runnable trail after miles of climbing and fell into a good pace, running now on soft pine needles, in an old road bed. We had been in trees before, but now the view opened up to the river below us and the orchards that surround it, irrigated by its waters in the hot summer months. The river looked like a silver ribbon, winding its way down the valley. The clouds were dark and heavy in the sky.

     The trail has a nice picnic table in this area, but the winds were strong and cold. The sun was shining and its warmth felt good. We climbed through the large rocks to find a place sheltered from the wind. We wanted to sit for a lunch break. I had made us some good sandwiches-seitan roast, pickles, onions, herbs, romaine lettuce and soy mayo on sourdough bread. We were both ready for some solid food, after having so far snacked mostly on wasabi almonds, peanut butter crackers, Justin's nut butter pouches and Gu Chomps.

     We pulled out our down puffy jackets and bundled up for lunch. It felt good to sit and hang out for a little while, enjoying the view and the landscape of large rocks we were sitting amongst. "Sitting is a big part of my running", Ras has been know to say. Purely existing in these moments, not moving, not thinking about moving; these are the times when I realize that being on the trail is a way of life for me. Sitting on the earth and eating, keeping myself warm in the wind, just quietly being next to the one I love are all a part of why I like to go out on the trails for hours at a time, as many days out of the week as I can.  

     Shedding our down jackets and stuffing them back into our packs, Ras and I got back up and continued our way into the higher country. We veered right off the 100 trail to continue on the Wild Horse Springs trail until we reached our turn around point. We still had several hours of daylight left. The wind felt calmer as we reached the shelter of the forest again. We passed by a couple of more frozen lakes along this loop trail. We startled an owl who silently flew off to perch in a tree over looking one of the lakes. It took a moment to register with me that I hadn't heard its wings as it took flight, like the more common birds that I see on the trails- ravens, hawks and grouse. It seems like I startle a grouse, which in turn makes my heart skip a beat, almost every time I am out on a run.

     We were almost to our turn around point when up ahead we saw a horse. It is not unusual to see cows on the trails in our area because they are allowed to free range on Forest Service land. It is unusual to see a horse though, especially this time of year. The horse looked healthy and had lots of dry grass where it was grazing. There was a grove of fir and pine trees where the horse had been going for shelter as we could see lots of hoof prints hardened into the frozen mud. The horse just looked at us and kept on nibbling on grass. No one was around. I was concerned about the horse because of the cold weather, frozen water sources and lack of good shelter. Shona had seen a horse earlier in the fall and I wondered if it was the same horse, still out wandering on its own.

     We continued on until we reached our turn around. We put on a couple of extra layers for the down running and colder temperatures coming on, now that it was later in the day. It would be dark in about an hour and a half. I put my headlamp on my head so I would be all ready. It was getting cold enough out that we wouldn't be making any more stops; we had to keep moving to stay warm. Our underneath layers were wet from perspiration and stopping for even a minute made it very uncomfortable. 

     An unfriendly dog chased us for a stretch, letting us know it didn't want us near its property. I was unhappy to have this happen on Forest Service land where wild animals should have been my biggest concern.  My encounters with bears have always been less nerve wracking than this one with the unattended aggressive dog on public lands. The dog backed off when Ras hollered loudly at it, but continued to follow us for a short distance. There is a home in this area that sits way back off of the trail. We had heard a chainsaw running as we got close to this home on our way up the trail. The owner didn't seem to hear Ras hollering loudly at the dog, but luckily it ended up backing off. Next time we run that trail, we will have to bring our large brown bear spray canister with us, just in case.

     The downhill grade was perfect for miles. When it got dark, I turned on my headlamp and watched the frozen ground sparkle in its light. The night running felt good and I was able to stay plenty warm enough.  After several miles of forested downhill trail running, I began to feel strange. The scenery never changed and I couldn't see anything beyond the immediate light of my headlamp. I felt like I was in a tunnel and I verged on feeling something similar to vertigo. Soon the trail began working its way back through the canyon walls. The change in scenery and terrain helped me to feel normal again. I picked my way over the rocky trail and soon began seeing the lights from homes along the Okanogan River come into closer view. We were just about done with the descent, done with our run for the day.

      We got back to our car and climbed inside. It was nice to feel the heat and put on some warm, dry clothes. We only had about 1/2 hour drive to get home, where we had a big pot of Tofu Roots Stew, waiting in the crock pot. Ras stoked up the wood stove and I served us up big bowls of steaming hot soup. Sitting down on the couch together, we both felt satisfied at a Thanksgiving perfectly celebrated.