When: August 2009
Where: near Mesahchie Pass in the North Cascades
With: Conservation Northwest volunteers Rob, Sara, and Paul
What: wildlife monitoring support
Accompaniment: Electric Feel by MGMT
A few hours in, and I was betting our trip leader Rob wished he hadn't talked me into coming. I'd failed the fitness test — climb Mt. Si in two hours carrying 30 pounds — and my lack of endurance was showing. I'd probably sounded like a good bet, being in my early twenties with lots of backpacking experience, but I was dragging along with Sara, middle-aged mom to a toddler.
Three hours, he'd guessed it would take, based on the distance and elevation. There was no trail, so our plan was to climb cross-country through the forest to a valley that we could follow up to the bowl with the wildlife camera. This remote part of the North Cascades seemed like a good place to look for grizzlies.
Our foray began with a dash through a stabbing-cold stream. A deer trail guided us for a time, but it petered out. We scrambled over piles of downed logs and pushed through waist-high foliage. A grassy clearing had bear sign — this was great habitat. Paul had a keen eye for wildlife sign, and I was confounded that he was a boat salesman when he was so passionate about wildlife. He told me he liked to keep work and fun separate.
We broke out of the woods into the creek valley. Lush with willows, greenery grew right up to the scree beneath the surrounding cliffs. We plunged into the bushes.
Wading turned to crawling. My pack's external frame caught on branches and jerked me back. After an hour, we started to worry about daylight. Evening comes early beneath tall peaks. We consulted the map and weighed our options: continue brush crashing, or skirt the vegetation by climbing a gully through the scree and traversing the valley wall.
Rocky gully it was. Sandy earth gave way beneath our feet, rocks tumbling behind with each step. It was so steep, it felt unclimbable without our trekking poles. We cut sideways and found firmer ground, just as steep, anchored by alpine huckleberry. At last we reached an alpine lake just below the pass. In the thick mud at the water's edge, we found deep, clear prints from a black bear.
Six hours after leaving the van, we finally crested into the wide meadow pass where we'd camp as the sun dipped behind the mountains. Exhausted, we weren't much for conversation and slipped into our solo tents early. Sara had declined to share a tent — it was her first night away from her son since he'd been born, and she wanted to take it to herself.
In the morning, we wordlessly walked up the meadow, stepping on rocks where we could to protect the fragile alpine plants. Sunlight licked at the ragged mountain beyond. Small islands of moss formed steps between the crystalline water. We pumped our bottles full of fresh, crisp snowmelt.
Wearing fleeces and hats in the brisk mountain air, we walked fifteen minutes to check the camera. Tired and a little bored, I barely saw the photos it had captured as we scrolled through on its small screen. No grizzlies.
No one wanted to face the previous day's scramble and willow crawl again, so Rob chose a different route back. Instead of descending along the creek, we climbed to the ridge above the valley. At the top, we had to scramble over a long field of huge boulders. I enjoy that, making a game of swinging from boulder to boulder, but Sara was near tears. We traversed a narrow sandy ridge, and it was only once we looked back I realized the exposure. Old grayed scat, which we dutifully photographed, told us animals took this route too. Finally, we let gravity pull us down a long steep forested slope. Halfway down, I had to stop for a break, my heels rubbed raw. My turn to cry.
At last, we reached the icy river separating us from the highway and home. We stripped off our boots and plunged through the painfully cold shin-deep water. A sharp end to a grueling expedition.
When did you take a trip that turned out different than you expected?
This is one of those trips I can't believe I did. I'd done tons of backpacking before, and plenty of cross-country scrambling and hiking, but the difficulty of this trip eclipsed everything in my experience. I think it was an eye-opening that I couldn't just do anything without training.
After this, there are just two posts left in the summer season of Sense Memory! It’s been another weird, fast summer for me. Record-breaking heat waves, climbing case numbers and changing information, preparing to return to the office, smoke blowing in and fouling the air… The weekends have slipped by quickly. Not that I’ve done nothing, but less than a normal year. What about you? Reply or leave a comment.
This fall, I’ll run a shorter season highlighting road trips in Washington and Canada. That may mark the end of Sense Memory, or maybe I’ll come up with another fun idea in the next couple months. (Open to suggestions 😉)
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Thanks for being here with me!
Tracy