The Rockies, USA 2008

The Rocky Mountains, USA. 2008 

(This was a difficult few chapters of my life and travels to write, but here it is and as they say every cloud has a silver lining, and I came through the other side. So I hope the next few chapters with inspire and give some meaning to anyone suffering from similar ailments who loves to walk). 

It was in fact to be a very long time before I was able to complete a trek with Macmillan once again, for shortly after returning from China I was troubled by a difficult gynaecological problem and was told by a doctor that I needed urgent test for suspected cancer of the uterus. After a couple of months of tests and treatment for my problems I was feeling very weak but a least once again happy that life was going to be normal as no cancer was found. It was a lovely feeling for a short while. How wrong I was though, for I caught pneumonia and didn’t get over it.  I seemed to get weaker as the weeks went by, weight fell off my figure that now appeared tiny and frail, my joints hurt and I lost the feeling in my limbs continually. After many tests for Lyme disease, numerous blood tests and antibiotics it was finally diagnosed as ME the following summer.

I had already signed up for a trek in Cambodia in the autumn of that year with Macmillan Cancer Support and I had previously planned and booked the US trip later that summer with my husband. Our flights had been bo since the previous summer and I was excited about discovering an area of the Rocky Mountains that I hadn’t yet visited. I just wasn’t sure if I would be well enough to get on the plane itself having had great difficulties doing that during the spring.

As the summer pasted I gained quite a bit of strength as my condition waxed and waned rather, like the moon, so by the end of July I felt I would be able to go if I did everything at a very slow pace. I gathered our camping equipment which was a challenge without even leaving the house and when our bags were packed and the dates on our tickets corresponded to those on the calendar we left for Heathrow.

Arriving in Salt Lake City, Utah we drove up through Idaho Falls to the North West corner of Yellowstone National Park. It was very much in evidence that there had been many large wild fires here in the forest. The pines with blackened trunks stood naked in the bright mountain light, their thick bark protecting them from a sudden and cruel death as lightening feed fires had torn through the landscape. Amazingly they had regrown their spiky leaves and the fire had given a new life to many species on the forest floor. Elk grazed on sweet, green meadows and the day was bright and clear.

Here in the Yellowstone Caldera which stretches 34 miles in one direction and 45 in the other there is a unique world of geothermal features; hot springs and bubbling geysers, dramatic canyons, lush forest and alpine rivers. The wildlife is rich; bear, wolf, elk, moose, bison, bighorn sheep and bob cats, not to mention lynx, coyotes, mountain lions, deer and mountain goats. Then there are the beautiful birds and reptiles too, alpine meadows full of wild flowers and lakes and rivers bursting with fish.

This beautiful area with its rich ecosystem was explored by Ferdindand.V.Hayden in 1871 and by 1872 it was declared a National park to protect the splendid landscape forever and provide a setting for the enjoyment of people. The park sits on a high plateau and is surround by mountain ranges and the mighty Rocky Mountains.

Driving east towards the centre of the park we stopped to enjoy the many geological features of the geyser basins, of which there are nine different areas. They contain many large and small gushing geysers, mud pots and fumaroles; which are literally opening in the earth’s crust where gases and steam burst out. We hiked around them all; Sawmill, Steamboat, Old faithful, Lone star and Norris, waiting in awe for them to erupt; sometimes on time and sometime not. The colours of the hots springs were probably the most magical, blues and golds of Silex at Paint pot fountain and Prismatic springs with crusty browns surrounding a heavenly, blue pool.

Heading for our campsite at the end of the day we hastily erected the tent which was so small that it went up in just a couple of minutes and almost disappeared in our large emplacement. You can always buy a supply of wood from the campsite office in the USA. In fact it’s often the only place that you are allowed to purchase it as disease can spread rapidly from infected wood that has been brought in from other areas and the parks authorises ask you not to travel with firewood. In areas that has been affect by the spread of beetles the trees are dead and stand as reddish skeletons.

Unfortunately we only stayed that one night in Yellowstone as we had planned to spend a week in the Bridger Teton wilderness when we booked our permits. So early the next morning we headed off down to the Grand Teton National park, with its beautiful clear lakes and mountains passes who names resonated the natural beauty; paintbrush and Cascade canyon and Inspiration point. Oh, how I wished I could reach these high places once again and touch their stones, warmed by the sun. We reached Jenny Lake and after a wait, it was established that one or more parties were moving on later that morning and were happy to keep their pitch for us. It was a very warm day and we welcomed the promise of sitting in the sun for a rest and acclimatise to the higher altitude of these mountains.

The next morning we were out early walking around the lake. Valley trail gave way to Jenny lake trail and the cool morning air quickly gave way to a baking afternoon. There was plenty of shade under the trees and the views were lovely, baby bears moved about in the undergrowth on the lakes fringes and we caught little glimpses of them from time to time. Constantly our eyes scanned the bushes for their mothers but we never saw them, well not that day anyway!

I struggled on wanting to complete one of my previously planned walks and towards the end of the day my head ached, my legs swelled, my heart thumped and I began to feel really quite unwell. As usual I was taking Diamox for the altitude but as it was so hot I was quite sure it was the sun that had caused my malady. I lay in my tent and hoped I would soon feel well again, trying to cover up how I really felt. It was pretty here and I had a plan to hike up Cascade canyon and down paintbrush, even if I did have ME. Feeling a little recovered the following morning, we packed our lunch and in the cool of the early morning we headed for the ferry to take us across the lake. As we crossed that cool, green water I knew that I shouldn’t be hiking that day but the powerfully, alluring Grand Teton was calling me ever nearer to it. My ankles were very swollen and I was feeling weak but the Tetons were so beautiful I wanted to know them. We passed moose, wild flowers and trees of emerald and jade, shamrock and lime, reaching ever higher into the sky. On I went until we reached a place where the trail narrowed and the rock overhung and there my husband refused to let me go any further. I touched the rock and said goodbye to the mountain.

We turned around but it was too late. This time I knew I was very unwell, my head thumped terribly, my heart pounding, I became weaker with each step and less co-ordinated. Finally I tried to tell my husband that I didn’t think I would make it down to the ferry, more and more I stopped, I drank as much water as I could, the hot, midday sun beating down through the trees. As I reached the queue for the ferry I lay upon the ground and hoped that I could get to the Diamox that I had in the tent. At last we reach the far bank and with help from my husband Martin I hobbled the final stretch back to the tent, passing a young bear cub and then her mother.

I lay in my tent, barely sipping the warm tea that my husband had made for me. I drank more water and waited for hours for my medicine to work, my head throbbing to an explosive level until finally it began to pass and I was able to visit the toilet. Unknown to me the mother and her cub had passed very close to our little tent while I was recovering, my husband had kept watch over me and their close path too.

Recovered enough to travel the next morning we decided to make our way down to the Bridger Teton wilderness or Wind River Range as it is also known, but not to do the 7 day trail that we had intended, instead we found a beautiful lake to rest by and recover. After a few days we walked to the start of the trail and signed in the book, but only for a day’s walk. Here we found an overview of this spectacular wilderness and looked in awe of its raw beauty, wild, serine and dramatic. A river wound through deep ravines and canyons, lone pines clung to the bare rock, one could not see that there could possibly be a passage, safe or otherwise though this stunning landscape.

The Wind River Range stretches 110 miles from South Pass to Togwotee Pass and encompasses 2.25 million acres of wild passes and needlelike spires, many of which are more than 12,500 feet in elevation. This dazzling mountain range forms part of the great Continental Divide where snow-capped summits, board alpine plateaus and deep canyons form the great watershed dividing rivers that travel west to the Pacific Ocean. It’s an area containing more than 2000 high mountains who glaciers spill out into lakes, tarns and rivers teeming with trout and reach in life. Fragrant wild flowers fill beautiful meadows with a dreamy perfume. Here tundra rich in wildlife embraces delicate flowers that form a land so beautiful and alluring it become quite spellbinding.

Instead of wilderness camping we had found the next best thing. A tiny, self-registering camping area, beside a lake of great size and serenity. In a small, brown envelope we placed the $2 fee and meet with locals who cooked on fires and invited us to join them and their extended families. One day a huge storm swept across the lake, we hid in our tiny tent, listening to the booms and feeling the ground almost vibrate beneath us. Hungrily looking at un-warmed food and waiting for it to pass before the next storm came in. It was time to move on an as we were not expected in the Rockies National park for two more days we decided to head for the Wyoming’s beautiful Snowy mountains.

After crossing a huge area of the state of Wyoming, where all we could see was either grassland or windblown dust where tangled balls of weed were swept across an almost deserted land. Passing signs that informed us that there was no petrol for 60 miles or that it was even further to the next town of any size we kept going until the mountains and trees were visible once more. Finding a lovely campsite within the forest park we made a fire from fallen wood as we were informed by the warren that we were welcome to do so and enjoyed a night under the cover of quietly whispering pines.

The Snowy mountain range is a jewel of southern Wyoming, high in the Rockies the mountains the land is between 9,000 feet and 12,000 feet, where snow, rain and sunshine can occur almost any day of the year. The Medicine Bow Mountains which form part of it are full of wonderful crystal blue alpine lakes, meadows full to bursting of wildflowers and subalpine fir forests, all the time watched over by jagged peaks. These wonderful mountains were formed about 50 million years ago by the earth’s compression of the continental divide. Huge faults broke up the granite and became mountain ranges and basins: The result was that the Rockies were born.

We loved this area with its wonderful trails, where gentians of the deepest blue carpeted the valleys beneath the towering peaks and marmot and ground squirrels dashed into the rocky terrain making holes where they surfaced and watched us from a safe distance. Although here is a land where black bear, moose, coyotes and lynx live alongside the tiny pika and mule deer. After enjoying the trails along the Snowy Mountain Highway we headed east to the Rocky Mountain Nation Park, Colorado and that evening sat in a bar watching the longest train pass through a town straight out of the wild west, that I had ever seen.

Now on the far side of the Rockies we entered the park, where towards evening we found our walk-in pitch high on a hill. Bringing up first our tent, bedding and then cooking equipment we set to and made dinner. Nothing much, just sausages fried and served in a bread-bun, but oh joy when you’re hungry and camping in the mountains. This was not a wilderness camp but a pitch set on its own above the other pitches at Moraine Park Campground.

The next day we took the free park bus down to the trailhead of the Fern Lake trail, a small stony trail that ran through a lovely valley until it reached, The Pool and some waterfalls to cross. Now on the other side of the valley we took the Cub lake trail through woodland, past the lake and around a number of small ponds dotted along the valley. The trail took us back up to the Cub lake trailhead and as we car no car to worry about we waited for the bus to arrive and clambered aboard.

It’s always beautiful to wake up to a new day in the forest but one that is surrounded by glorious mountains is even better. Another day of walking in the park was planned. Once again we took the park bus to the trailhead and walked up Glacier gorge to Alberta falls and on to Glacier Knobs, a circular trail that returned to Bear Lake. Then one final walk up on Tombstone Ridge the following day, amid a shower and a double rainbow. The views from the ridge are quite spectacular, looking down to the valley that we had walked in two days before. It’s a high windy place of 11,722 feet, where little grows except short grass. I enjoyed my last views and then we were on our way over to Steamboat Mountain and Dinosaur National Park before arriving back at Salt Lake City and another eventful trip over.

Cascades and Olympics, USA, Summer 2009

Cascades and Olympics, USA, Summer 2009

Washington state is the 18^th largest state and home to 7 million people, but except for passing through a few of its cities we spent two weeks in in the most beautiful wilderness areas of mountain and coast that you could ever imagine. It’s the most northern state in the US, bordering the Canadian border to the north and Pacific Ocean to the west. A great spine of mountains runs north to south through the centre of this incredible region. These mountains are The Cascade Range and contain many large volcanoes. Mount Baker, Glacier Peak, Mt Rainier, Mt St Helens and Mt Adams. They are all considered active volcanoes. To the east of this great range the land is dry and almost desert, unlike the western slopes where large temperate rain forest keep the land cool and misty in summer months and covered in deep snow for months at a time during the long winters.

The beautiful Cascades are not the only mountain range here, lying to the west are the Olympic Mountains and the magnificent National park of the Olympic coastal area. This is an area of unique beauty where humpback and grey whales reign supreme along the wild coastline. It’s not only the coast that enjoys a rich flora and fauna, in the mountains black bear, bobcat, racoon, skunk, cougar, grey wolf, moose, deer, beaver, elk and coyote co-exist with the flora, giving a rich balance to the land.

So here I was only 4 days after leaving Iceland, repacked and ready for another adventure. The US passport office of course pulled us aside and put us in a room to stew while we watched the entire contents of 3 suitcases being unpacked and analysed. Fortunately they were not ours and all they wanted to do was to advise me not to put my passport through the cold cycle in the washing machine again. I informed them dewily that I had crossed the ice caps of Iceland in one of the worst storms nature could muster and they doffed their caps and waved us goodbye but not before I had told them of our entire chosen route. Well they really shouldn’t have asked, they couldn’t wait to get rid of us.

Free at last, we headed into Seattle to buy gas and provisions for camping. Then headed north to mount Vernon and on to Colonial creek in the North Cascades. Up here in the Snoqualmie national forest the air was warm and clear. We found a wild walk in pitch and enjoyed the beauties of the mountains. I was having quite a few problems still with my chest, my ears were ringing badly, I was bothered by terrible cramps and was still having times when I loss the feeling in my limbs, although my fatigue was now only when I was feeling unwell, but the mountain air would hopefully work its magic on me, it normally did.  The Ross lake national recreation area protects the beautiful lake from which it gets its name and also larger stretches of the Skagit River below the dams. We walked the delightful Bridal veil falls and Lake Serene, Pyramid Peak and lake trail, thunder knob and creek trails and along Diablo lake.

While staying at the campsite in Colonial Creek I came upon a short poem in the washrooms. It was writing on the back on the wooden door and made me think enough to remember it, stating “Life should be measured by the number of breaths stolen by beauty and wonder”. I wondered too who had scribbled this note and walked in the same steps as I had, enjoyed the same immense views and faced many of the same challenges in life. Life is beautiful, often cruel, happy, busy but most of all a sequence of different things of wonder if we open our eyes and our hearts.

One day we came upon the old Iron Goat trail, it has a remarkable tale to tell. Built over a hundred years ago to bring the last link of the Great Northern Railway to cross the Cascades, it crossed the Cascades at Stevens Pass and brought a new trade road for the settlements of the Pacific Northwest. The switchbacks were an engineering triumph but with heavy snowfall throughout the winter months it wasn’t long before a disaster was to happen. In 1910, while snow slides delayed two trains in the town of Wellington a vast section of snow on Windy Mountain broke loose and crashed down. Both trains were swept into the Tye River killing nearly one hundred people. It was one of America’s worst rail disasters. As a result a new tunnel was made, bypassing this venerable section. It was a fascinating trail where the old railway was still very evident and you felt as though you were reliving a little piece of history.   

It was an area of great beauty, rich and green. Funny enough we had walked the Pacific Crest trail before in California, here it seems more magnificent and peaceful than ever, rich green forest, lakes and rolling uplands. We were to meet it once more as we travelled down Mt Baker and onto the majestic Mt Rainier.

Mt Rainier national park is a delight. We camped at the peaceful White River near Sunrise Rim, then walked up on green and rocky ridges of Sourdough Ridge, where lakes of turquoise dotted the landscape. Sunrise Lake, Clover Lake and many others. Later we walked down to Glacier Basin where you follow the mighty river of glacial melt waters and feel part of this great mountain. Mt Rainier is 4,392 metres in height, making it the highest peak in the chain and has 26 major glaciers. With its snowfields it’s the most glaciated peak in the 48 lower states. You can walk all the way around the mountain but to climb this mountain you need full climbing equipment.

The park is quite extensive with a good road from the north down to Stevens Canyon. Don’t miss this area if you visit here, it’s a beautiful walk along the slot canyons to Silver falls and the Grove of the Patriarchs trail, but time your visit early as parking can be difficult in high summer. There’s plenty of wildlife in the park too; chipmunks, squirrels, marmots, pikas, deer, black bear, elk and mountain goats but I think the Steller’s jays were the most entertaining of all of them.

We made it to Paradise where the meadows reach down from the huge snowfields above and make a rich carpet of flowers in every imaginable colour. This area has been a park since 1899 when James Longmire established the Park first headquarters and a family home there. When James Longmire’s daughter-in-law Martha first saw this subalpine meadow she exclaimed “This must be what Paradise is like” This area is world famous for its wild flower meadows and I really don’t think I have ever seen a better one on all my travels although it may be rather too busy to be paradise in my mind. I guess it was a little quieter in the 1880’s. Unfortunately we only had time for a walk along Parise valley before it was time to move on to the glorious Olympus national Park.

Now, if you love wild coastal regions then the Olympic National marine Sanctuary is a pure joy. We drove up the coast to Mora camp, hidden in the forest a short distance from the beach. It’s just off the road from the little town of Forks, unheard of until it was taken over by the vampires of “Twilight”.  No wonder those vampires made it their home it was just so incredibly beautiful. Rialto beach is covered in washed up trees from the coastal forest; great giants enjoying their last resting place on the sandy shores of this enchanted place. After storms the trees fill the Hoh River, drifting up the coast like lost ships looking for a safe harbour. The area around Hoh is full of creeks and can only be reached by walking along the coastal path which tumbles up and down along beaches and headlands. If you are backpacking here be careful as the climbs onto the headland sections can only be reached by the aid of ropes and ladders fixed along the route. We enjoyed the section to Strawberry point and back but you can camp along the route and enjoy a fire on the beach as the evening light fades and the sunsets across the Pacific waters. It really is very beautiful here.

We travelled on up to Ozette where you can walk out over the beach and down the coastal trail. Again here you can camp along the way but watch out for high tide when you will need to use the overland trail which is harder and longer due to the think untouched forest that always backs this beaches.

We tore ourselves away from the delights of the spellbinding coast that had worked its magic on us, turning inland to Mount Angeles and up the beautiful saddles trail with its glorious views of the pristine forest below. We camped at the Heart of the hills camp, worrying that there would be too many people there after our time along the tranquil coast but we needn’t have worried as it was as empty as ever. We made camp between five of the biggest cedars you can imagine and I delighted in the wildlife and berries there. Our final camp being Staircase before leaving this very special park. Congress had designated nearly one million areas of the peninsula for protection under the 1964 wilderness act. It included 600 islands most of the Olympics national park and five areas of national forest. It’s one of 380 parks in the care of the national park service and the certainly do a wonderful job in protecting and managing this wonderful wild places while still giving ample access to the public to enjoy the true delights of a wilderness experience and often for no more than the national park fee itself.

We had one last walk up Mount Ellinor before the biggest chinese meal you can ever imagine. In fact the waiter informed us that we had ordered far too much food for two people. We said “don’t worry we will eat it, and we did. He confirmed that he had only ever seen two people enjoy a meal quite so much and they had been in the wild for two week.  I guess that all it takes to make you really hungry, but that first meal was as good as any I have ever tasted. I wouldn’t swap food for the wild though. The wild is always with you and stays forever.