North Cascades National Park, Bainbridge Island, Seattle, Newhalem OR

August 27, 2010

After a long internet check-in at a Starbucks in Bellingham on Monday morning, I scoped out a few google maps and decided to head inland to North Cascades National Park. Still with no complete map of Washington in front of me, I was relying entirely on the GPS and my memory of the maps I had looked at online. (I later had a major Ahhh ha! moment.... and realized I've had an atlas of the USA with me this whole time.) In any case, the drive east was great- it felt fantastic to be back on the road again, even if I wasn't sure where I was headed. The lovely thing about this particular approach is that it fully embraces the spontenaity of random wine tasting at one of the handful of enticing wineries along the way. Eagle Haven Winery is nesteled in Sedro Wooley, WA, and the lovely lady manning the tasting room was incredible friendly and probably would have kept pouring me wine all afternoon.

 I had made reference to some of the wines I'd tasted in South Africa and before I knew it I was hearing about her sister, a hunter, and her brother-in-law, a taxidermist, and their trips to Africa.

"But they've never invited me to come along," she says jokingly. Without having to pay a dime for my tasters, I was back on the road.

Eagle Haven Winery

The sign to the Marblemount Ranger check-in station caught my eye and a quick u-turn brought me to the off-road cabin with plenty of help to be offered. Once the two couples at the counter had been helped and I'd checked out the 3-D topographic map, I stepped up to the counter and found myself saying I was looking to do two nights in the backcountry and was looking for a permit and recommended trails.

What?

Honest to god, I hadn't thought of this before. I didn't even have two days worth of food with me. Where did this sweeping request come from?

The fact that the Ranger didn't seem taken aback at having a lone traveler inquire about a late afternoon departure for the backcountry was reassuring. She did take me through the 'bear aware' rigamorole while pointing out a suitable trail given the time of day and the "two nights in the bush" that I was looking for. My permit was printed (with emergency contact info, name, phone number, car information etc all logged into the register), I was on my way, and without having to pay a dime.

Luckily there was one more gas station before the mountains and forest took over, so I stocked up on energy bars and a can of beef something. It was the lightest canned item they had. Given the true spontenaity of this decision, my belongings ended up sprawled over two parking spots at the trailhead as I sorted out what I would need and would could stay. With the sun starting to set, my first leg of the trek was appropriately brief at a little over 2 miles. Assuming no wrong turns. Add in two wrong turns, and 2 miles becomes more like 4 miles, which meant setting up came in the dark.

Setting off at the Thunder Creek trailhead.

 This is approximately when bear paranoia sunk in. It's amazing the comfort we get out of being with others in the dark, or when there are legitimate threats 'lurking in the darkness.' I was clanging my keys like there was no tomorrow and trying to rationalize with myself as much as possible. The problem was, if I encountered a grizzly bear, there really isn't much I could have done.

Site #1

So the paranoia stuck around, while setting up my tent, starting up the stove, frying up some sausages and peppers, and cleaning up. I made damn sure I didn't spill a drop of anything sweet or salty- both of which attract bears and other fun nightime visitors.

Cooking dinner at site #1

 Despite this diligence, I was taking my dirty pot down to the glacial river running along side my site and when I switched from singing the spice girls to "CLANG CLANG RATTLE BING BANG GONNA MAKE MY NOISE ALL DAY" (nothing beats children's story songs to make you feel a-okay), I started clanging my pot to add some 'beats.' My pot, which still had a 1/2 cup of sausage grease in it- all of which ended up on my pants. Now I was in a real dilemma, I could wash my dishes, hang my food- take all the precautions to avoid bears visiting, except that now I smelled like a walking juicy jumbo. Fabric holds scent exceptionally well, so despite the pitch darkness and general haphazhardness of this whole event, I dunked my pants into the river to scrub them (with rocks... I had no soap to speak of) clean of sausage smells. In my packing frenzy I forgot my freshly charged ipod, which meant I'd be falling asleep to the creaks and croaks of every damn thing around me. I nearly talked myself out of hiking back to my car first thing the next morning.

 Bear bag. Nearly lost my food to the river trying to set this one up.

I'm happy to say that I awoke with a renewed appreciation for the outdoors to find find my hanging bear bag untampered. While I kept my keys jingling, I was able to get my mind off bears for most of the trekking that remained. Except for the 3 encounters with massive piles of bear poo. I jingled more aggressively in those parts. My second site was perched halfway up the edge of some mountain with great views of the glaciers. Turns out I absolutely booted it through the trails and made it there far earlier than anticipated- so I enjoyed the afternoon basking in the sunshine and napping in the shade.

plenty of great views along the way

along the trail to site #2

The park brochure (being short of "things do to" I read it end to end several times) describes the Stephen Mather Wilderness, which encompasses North Cascades National Park, Lake Chelan National Recreation Area, and Ross Lake National Recreation Area as a place for solitude, challenge, contemplation and cultural study. While I didn't endeavour in any cultural studies, I definitely got my fill of the solitude, challenge, and contemplation.

Arrival at site #2- YAY! plenty of time to take in the view

Site #2

The view from site #2

My restlessness took hold and to hurry things along, I had an all time early bedtime record of 7:30pm- the sun wasn't even fully set. I was back on the trail the next morning, and reached my car by 12:30pm on day three after covering a total of 23 miles.

With no showers available, I did my best to 'wash up' with the sink (a taste of the life of a bum, I suppose) and had a cold beer overlooking Ross Lake- a spectacular view and great 'reward.'

 I got back in my car and figured I'd head to the Seattle area. With a handful of stops at wireless-less Starbucks shops (the damn kiosks instead of proper stores), I finally hunted down a good connection and scoped out my options for state parks with camping available. It was 5:30pm and I was in Everett, WA and the closest option appeared to be Faye Bainbridge State park on Bainbridge Island. Island? Google maps said I would be taking a ferry. My head was swimming in logistical obstacles, matched up against a dwindling amount of daylight. I winged it and set the GPS for Bainbridge Island.

Suffice to say that was the best "decision" I've made in a while- after a spectacular ferry ride from Edmonds to Kingston, WA, with the setting sun overlooking Seattle and Mount Rainier (tallest in WA), I arrived at Faye Bainbridge State Park in the Puget Sound, camping by the sandy beaches with the lights of Seattle on the opposite shore. Hot dogs and wine hit the spot after another very successful day of no planning.

The ferry from Edmonds to Kingston, WA, just outside Seattle

Faye Bainbridge State Park

The next morning was drizzly and cool, with the view of the city completely blanketed by fog. I caught a morning ferry right into Seattle and ventured further from the downtown core to save money on parking. As with any major city, 8 blocks away saved me $16 for four hours of parking, and I got to take in more of Seattle by walking. Pike Place market was a 'major attraction,' with plenty of fresh fish, flowers, bakers, trinkets etc. The usual market fare.

Pike Place Market, Seattle

Coming into Seattle on the ferry from Bainbridge Island

Pike Place Market- plenty o fish to be had

Given that Starbucks has been my blogging lifeline with their free internet, I made a point of visiting the original Starbucks, too.

The original starbucks

After my fill of city life (and a brief moment of consumer weakness with some discount clothing shopping- it was a gold mine!), I headed south on the I-5 towards Oregon. The Mount St Helen's National Memorial was en route, but after hitting commuter traffic, I found myself in a familiar predicament- running short on daylight with no plans for where to camp. I wanted to see the Oregon coast, and if the wind was good, head inland to Hood River for some more kitesurfing. The atlas showed state parks dotting the north Oregon coast, so I figured I'd find a place to camp no problemo. I was wrong.

From one State Park to another- none offered camping. I was weaving through dark roads in who-knows-where Oregon, with so many twisty turns I started to get car sick. It was 9:30pm, and most State Parks close up at 10pm. I was starting to imagine myself knocking on some farmhouse door asking if I could pitch a tent on their lawn. Low and behold, my lack of planning pulled through again and I came across a tiny convenience store with a helpful young man pointing me 2 miles south to Newhalem State Park where camping was indeed available. Stretching along a tiny peninsula of the Oregon coast just outside Manzanita, OR, this park sits right on the pacific ocean and draws a large "horse crowd." In fact, that's all the camping they had available-"horse camp." My site came with corrals. And horse shit all over the place.

Horse Camp. Yes, those are the corrals in the background. For drunk, reckless campers.

In any case, it was a campsite, and I could hear the ocean not 100m away. Wine and hotdogs hit the spot again, with leftover blackberry pie for dessert. I woke up to sunny skies and a spectacular beach streching out beside me.

Newhalem State Park on the Oregon coast, just outside Manzanita, OR

I'm writing from the Manzanita library, which is literally the "hot spot" of the town. As I sit on a wooden bench outside the library- which is clad in cedar-shingles and might as well be a beach house, and a woman walks up,


"Where is it [the internet]? Is it just all around us?" asks this elderly woman returning some books in the drop slot.

"Haha, yes it's everywhere," says the man on the bench under the tree nearby.

"Oh, I see. I always see people sitting here and wonder how they're getting it."

"Yes, that's the wonder of wireless internet," says another man perched on the rock.

A couple minutes later the man on the other bench, in khaki shorts, boat loafers, and a loose white dress shirt gets up, macbook and hand, and says,

"Well, the only thing that isn't everywhere is a powersupply. Do you think there's an outlet in one of these rocks?" he chuckles, "Have a nice day, the both of ya's."

While the wind isn't looking good in Hood River, the beach here is still fantastic... so who knows what the day holds.

repeat picture i can't delete for some reason.