Fourth Rainier, 2018

Leaves dapple the trail at hike's end near the Tiger 3 trailhead.

Today I completed my fourth "Rainer" for 2018 by adding the 2,000 feet of elevation gain for 2018 to take me over the top of four Mount Rainier elevations. I was accompanied by my childhood friend, John Anderson, who was building up his strength after a long absence from exercise. John completed 2.5 miles of the 3-mile ascent, as he continued to improve his stamina.

Mushroom community by trail

Satistics for the day:

Distance: 6 miles
Elevation gain: 2,000 feet
Conditions: Chilly, sun in afternoon
Load: 16 pounds of backpack

Statistics, year to date:

Distance: 1487.20 miles

Elevation gain: 58,160 feet  -- four Rainiers plus 516 feet

Mount Baker's Artist Point

Hiking companion Arlone Biven with Mount Shuksan in the background.

It's probably  been 40 years since I had my panic attack on Mount Baker, and I'm not sure if I've been remotely close since. I camped there once and hiked once in the 70's. The hike was up a broad path that seemed ordinary enough until it came time to discend and I saw a valley stretching out away from me forever. The emptyness of the vast valley overwhelmed me and I had to sit down for a few minutes to overcome the sensation that I was being drawn toward the edge. I finally regained my wits and walked down, but I've never forgotten that moment.

Artist Point is a two-hour drive from the Birch Bay time share, three hours from Seattle.

On Oct. 19, Arlone Biven and I drove to a time share in Birch Bay, with a plan to hike the next day near Mount Baker. On Saturday, Oct. 20, we drove past Glacier, WA to the terminus of SR 542, a parking lst just past the ski lifts. It was a fortuitous moment, because this highway usually has snow most of the year. We hiked to Artist Point, which gave us spectacular views of the surrounding terraine, including the Summit of Mount Baker to the southwest, and Mount Shuksan almost directly east.

Artist Point appears in the far left of the Map. Summit Pyramid marks Mount Shuksan's peak.

The photo below shows the two high points on Mount Shucksan: Snow-capped Nooksack Tower, and bald Summit Pyramid, which appears to be more distance, but actually is closer, according to the map above. I shot a compass heading on Summit Pyramid and found it to be 90 degrees east of us.

On Shuksan, Summit Pyramid is actually closer that the snow-covered Nooksack Tower.

This was a short-hike, no elevation gain, no back-packing day. But we were almost a mile high, and the thinner air was noticeable. Still 1,484 feet to ascend to accomplish my "fourth Rainier."

Here are some other photos taken this fall weekend.

Sun glows the changing fall leaves on this Maple Tree along SR 542.

Arlone wanted to visit Big Rock Park in Samammish. 

The name of the stone carving that caught her attention is "Hope."

Black Diamond Natural Trail

One view down the trail.

Tuesday, October 16, 2018: After an afternoon of shooting pool, Roger Matthews and I hiked the Black Diamond Natural Trail south of his home. There was no elevation gain, no load packed. It was just a nice hike and a place to return to from time to time for its solitude and beauty. Photos follow.

A partial map of the area, showing trails

From the west, sunlight dapples the leaves on trees beside an old railroad trail.

In the distance, two bicyclists approach as if emerging from a tunnel created by tree overhang.

One of many inter looping side trails connecting to the main trail

A recently-constructed foot bridge over a creek leads toward a rotting snag.

Still 1,484 feet to ascend to accomplish my "fourth Rainier."

More mushrooms, heartbeat questions and a stroke survivor

A solitary mushroom atop a tree stump along the West Tiger 3 trail.

Today was a good one for mushrooms. The air was chilly at 9:45 a.m. in the parking lot at Tiger 3. I was cold, but I knew I would warm up soon and then the question would be staying warm -- a question that disappeared as the sun came out toward the end of the hike, burning off the fog. I was carrying a light pack of only 14 pounds, and I felt energized. I reached the 1.1 mile post in 40 minutes, making almost two miles per hour.

My pulse had reached 140 beats a minute at times. It was fast and light. And that brings up a question as to why the heart's beat can be light or heavy, almost independent of speed. It seems that the strength of the beat should indicate the blood flow, but also the speed of the beat as well. So why does it beat differently when you're hiking? I tried to Google the answer after getting home and was not able to find out.
(Next day research: What I'm describing as a strong heartbeat might be a "bounding" pulse which can occur after an extended run, or  with pregnant women, people with fevers and people under high stress and anxiety. I recall a bounding pulse when I was quietly sitting in a movie theater 45 years ago watchingThe Sound of Music. when Julie Andrews and the Von Trapp kids were trying to flee the evil Nazis and my chest was slowly and strongly thumping. I've noticed a less pronounced slow thumping heartbeat in my carotid arteries while hiking; powerful, but perhaps as slow as 100-110 bpm.)

Along the way I passed some people, including a retired nurse, Sharon, 74, who was recovering from a stroke. She recognized what was happening by acting FAST -- (Facial drooping, Arm weakness, Speech difficulties and Time to call emergency services). She called her partner, got to emergency care quickly, and greatly limited the potential damage. And now she was heading for the summit on Tiger 3, gaining 2,000 feet of elevation today. We talked about that and about weight control and I totally didn't think about asking her about heartbeat rate and volume. Doh!

I did notice, however, that walking slowly with her was almost as tiring as walking faster. I wonder what that's about?

Mushrooms on a log.

Statistics for the day:

Distance: 6 miles
Elevation gain: 2,000 feet
Conditions: Chilly, fog followed by sun
Load: 14 pounds of backpack

Statistics, year to date:

Distance: 1481.20 miles

Elevation gain: 56,160 feet  -- 1,484 feet to my fourth Rainier.

A final view before leaving the trail.

Tiger 3 mushrooms

A mossy log pointing downhill hosted a small community of mushrooms.

It was rainy, and a perfect Friday for mushrooms -- cool, dark and wet. Joan Tito and I were seeing how far we could get on Tiger 3. We hiked only one mile, in approximately an hour. The Tiger Mountain Green Trails map, which shows elevations, indicated we had reached the 1,360 foot elevation contour, meaning we had climbed 740 feet from the elevation near the trailhead, which is listed as 520 feet.

A slug oozed its way over a cluster of mushrooms.

Statistics for the day:
Distance: 2 miles
Elevation gain: 740 feet
Conditions: Rainy, cool
Load: 16 pounds of backpack

Statistics, year to date:

Distance: 1475.20 miles

Elevation gain: 54,160 feet  -- 3,484 feet to my fourth Rainier.

Arlone on Talus Rock Trail, Tiger 3 Trail

Arlone's personal best after a break from hiking following foot surgery: the 1.1 mile mark. 

Today was a leisurely hike up the Tiger 3 trail. Arlone Biven, my traveling buddy today, had been away from hiking for a while, partly due to surgery on a bone in her left leg. We opted to push past the Talus Rock Trail junctionto reach the 1.1 mile mark on Tiger 3 Trail, before returning to the junction and heading off to the caves on the Talus Rock Trail. Afterward we descended the Nook trail and headed back to the car. I had forgotten my Discovery Pass, so we had parked in the lower lot, making our overall trip at least 3 miles. We probably understated the elevation gain, at 600 feet.

Arlone checks out the size of the boulders at the Talus Rock Trail caves,

Statistics for the day:
Distance: 3 miles
Elevation gain: 600 feet
Conditions: Comfortable and dry
Load: 22 pounds of backpack

Statistics, year to date:

Distance: 1473.20 miles

Elevation gain: 53,420 feet  -- 4,224 feet to my fourth Rainier.

The bomber crash site, Olympic Peninsula

The slope above the debris field for the B-17 that crashed on Mount Olympus in 1952

On Sept. 27, 2018, Paula Everdell and I hiked the Tubal Cain Trail in search of the debris field for a B-17 that struck Mount Olympus on the Olympic Peninsula in 1952 and skidded downhill to a stop. Of a crew of 8, five survived and were rescued the following day.

Paula on foot log

The crash site is above the opening for a shaft that was the property of the Tubal Cain Copper and Manganese Mining Company. To get there, we hiked a 1,600 foot elevation gain and 7.2 miles round trip, according to Washington Trails Association. Says the association's Web page:

. . . enter shaded forest and soon pass by a shelter and camp. Cross Silver Creek on a footlog, then begin a gentle ascent on a well-sloped trail lined with rhododendrons. The trail remains in the shade, and the rhodies remain the best view until they yield to mature forest at about 2.5 miles. At 3.0 miles, a mine shaft is visible on the hillside left of the trail. A few yards past is a junction with the Tull Canyon trail, which doubles back sharply to the mine shaft.

 If the 1952 B-17 crash site is your destination, take the Tull Canyon trail to the mine and past. This trail is steep, gaining 450 feet in 0.6 mile, passing countless enormous boulders poised on the steep slopes all around you.  

The footlog allowed easy passage over Silver Creek, near the trailhead.

The hike can be kind of a drudge, because there's not much scenery.  The banks are steep and the falloff impressive, and perhaps that is why we missed the Tull Canyon Trail sign, which was above the walking path. We ended up at the wrong mine shaft, catching up with Chandler, a 23-year-old woman from Georgia, who had passed us earlier on the trail and disappeared ahead. Chandler had become puzzled as to where the Tubal Cain Mine was located. The path just seemed to come to an end -- and in fact did. But we climbed a steep slope and encountered two individuals coming out of a different mine shaft. Jim, the father of the father-son combination, obligingly took our photo:

Chandler, on the left; me, and Paula on the right (my left)

 Then they explained that they were camped near the debris field as well as Tubal Cain mine, which we had passed.

A stream gushed from the mine opening; high above there was an ominous overhang.

Jim, who likes to explore old mines, believes this is the remnant of an ore car.

We hiked back down the trail with Jim and his son, Jesse, probably a quarter mile, and then found the path past the Tubal Cain mine and on to the debris field. This was the steepest part of the trail.

I had to clamber a couple feet up the bank  to get to the level of the entrance to Tubal Cain mine.

The crash site wasn't particularly impressive--just airplane scraps left behind and not worth carrying out. It lay in a bog at the bottom of the slope seen at the top of this post.

My best guess is that this was the floor of the aircraft.

This appears to be part of a wing -- mostly empty space, for lightness, quite sturdy.

Another wing, perhaps?

The B-17 landing gear

After the hike, Chandler, a graduate in philosophy, joined us for dinner at my WorldMark Discovery Bay time share condo. Before that, on the return hike down the trail, she shared stories of her family  as well as her plans to work on a California marijuana farm during the fall harvest.

Statistics for the day:

Distance: 7.2 miles
Elevation gain: 1,600 feet
Conditions: Comfortable and dry
Load: 20 pounds of backpack

Statistics, year to date:

Distance: 1470.20 miles

Elevation gain: 52,820 feet  -- 4,824 feet to my fourth Rainier.

The sheter and camping area

Tubal Cain Copper and Manganese Mining Company