May first marks the end of winter recreation season on the Gifford Pinchot. The gates are opened for summer recreation. However access is always a gamble due to snow. I do not usually get to my preferred locations until mid to late June. While there was much less snow than last year, it was still deep enough to prevent access.
I was pleased to find that the access road was clear of snow and the gate had been opened. The snow free conditions didn’t last for more than a half mile, but the depth was shallow and there were tracks ahead of me. That changed after another mile.
Just short of the turn off to my camping spot I came across a Subaru stuck in the snow. They had driven as far as they could go and then a bit further. The driver, Roger, greeted me and said that he was high centered on the snow bank. I offered to pull him off and asked for a moment to get my tools ready. Roger’s companion expressed surprise at my coming along.
I mentioned that it was Friday on the first weekend after the gates had been opened so there would likely be more folks than just I driving the road.
I had some trouble getting the tug strap through the hard point on my truck. The loop is a bit small so it took some pushing and tugging to get it through. Connecting to the Subaru was another thing entirely. The only accessible point was the receiver hitch, or more properly, the chain retainers on the hitch. They were too small to get the loop on the strap through. After failing to get enough strength from my rope Roger offered two sets of carabiners. These worked wonderfully.
We chatted about the area for a few moments before they were on their way. They inquired into my plans for the weekend. I told them I was going to do just what they had done; drive until I couldn’t get any further. Then I planned to stay the weekend hiking and just being in the woods. If I got really stuck I would have two days to free my truck. I showed them my collection of shovels, jacks, winch, and straps. If all else were to fail, Sunday afternoon I would walk back to the road to enlist help. I do this annually and it has never failed to be a wonderful time; but broken axles, flat tires, and dead batteries are all possible and potentially cumulative so eventually there will be a first time that I can’t do it alone. If so, the next year I would gear up to get past whatever event had me down and try it again. Remember: Safety Third!
We said our goodbyes and I ran the truck up to the edge of the deep snow turned around and spent the night in a snow free area of the road. By the time I had positioned the truck in the widest spot of the road I could find, it was dark.
Since there was no moon, the night was very dark. The only light came from the stars visible between the overhead cover. The rushing stream and its attendant chorus of frogs provided a background of sound. The night’s routine was broken only once by the call of a Great Gray Owl in the old trees to the north. I slept very well.
In the morning I was not pleased with staying the weekend in the middle of the road. If there had been a place to get off to the side I would have stayed, but it just felt too public. It didn’t help that this road tracks along a northern slope. Meaning the sun, if it hit at all, wouldn’t shine on this camp until the afternoon. So I packed up in search of a more private snow free site.
I followed a road tracking south off the main access point that I hadn’t been on before. The gate blocking it had been removed fairly recently as the supports were still in place. This road is wider than most of the others I’ve driven in the area. It’s also very well graveled, and fairly flat tracking along a gentle slope.
In less than a mile I came upon a fairly large stream bridged by a double culvert. The culvert had held up so well that there was no evidence of overflow on the road surface. Adjacent to the stream was a wide spot that I think folks use to park and explore. I was tempted to set up right here, but decided to explore further.
I was very glad that I did, as just about a quarter mile further I came upon a much wider place. It was an established camp site with a fire ring and spaces where several tents had been erected could be found along the forest edge. Here is a view of the site from the road. In the photo my truck and fire are just visible behind a screen of small conifers; much more private.
The trail, visible in the middle of the photo, drops down to a small stream. It’s fed by the one passing under the road. However it hasn’t been used for vehicular traffic in so long that it is choked with small trees and debris about 50 yards from the furthest snow bank in the picture. I walked it in search of a place further off the road; but there is nothing better along it. The young trees block the morning sun and there is no space among them for a fire.
The site is adjacent to a dense young stand of hemlock and Douglas-fir, being invaded by a few redcedar and white pine. This stand is overstocked with many pole size suppressed trees.
I had never driven this road so I wasn’t familiar with the area. This section of road runs pretty close to north/south. The forest to the east is a decadent shelterwood cut so it’s open allowing the early morning sun to shine on the site. Afternoon shade is provided by the dense stand. Finding a level quarter acre clear spot was a pure bonus. I pulled in and setup.
The first order of business was coffee and breakfast. I made a fire and got water on while I cut potatoes and onions.
The menu was fried potatoes for me and a bacon burrito for the little dog. As you can see, she wasn’t too happy being included on this trip and rejected everything except for the bacon.
The roads in this area run between timber management units. This spot was no different. To the west a young forest of Douglas-fir and western hemlock about 50′ tall is growing–in spots it’s a tangle of volunteers struggling for light under the planted cohort. On the east side, remnants of the old forest were under-planted with Douglas-fir, noble fir, and a sprinkling of white pine–it’s much more open than the forest to the west. The overgrowth is all top dead, broken, and scraggly–so I’m guessing that there is a lot of wind here during winter storms. The undergrowth is now about 30′ tall, well formed, and nicely spaced. Volunteers are growing up between the plantings and without management will close off the many game trails in a few years. Right now the volunteer cohort is mostly less than ten feet tall.
I’m guessing that during summer weekends this spot will have too much vehicular traffic for my taste. It’s just wild enough that the Subaru crowd can feel the off road experience without getting their car too dirty and scratched up. The stream crossings are even paved with concrete! At any rate, It will be another month before I can get back out and by then the snow will have melted enough to get down into the meadow. The new tires worked very well in the snow–but there will always be a snow bank deeper than the space under the truck.
The weather was near perfect for this trip. An added bonus was that it had been too cold for mosquitoes. I had two groups of folks pass by my camp on Saturday–more than I saw in all of 2018. But last year I was in the forest more often during the week than on weekends.
At lunch I tried out my new Bushbox stove with the Trangia burner; I made falafels and coffee.
I avoided alcohol burners for years because I just couldn’t see how they would fit into my camp. In all honesty that was a mistake. In the Bushbox the burner is plenty hot enough to cook over. On previous backpacking trips, I had seen others have to stop and refill their burner when it ran out of fuel before their meal was cooked. However in the Bushbox I was able to make two rounds of falafel patties and also boil a pint of water for coffee and cleanup. I had enough fuel remaining that I used it for coffee at dinner; so perhaps it is just a case of refilling before use.
The little Bushbox is a bit stiff so it’s still hard to assemble, but that will ease over time. It blocks the wind very well and can be loaded with twigs or charcoal so a burner isn’t even necessary. I’m very happy with it and am looking forward to a larger Firebox folding stove.
I passed the afternoon cutting on a try stick. Try sticks are a way to practice knife skills. One carves a series of useful cuts in a single stick. The try stick was popularized, if not invented, by Mors Kochanski. He recommends carving a stick no thinner than one’s thumb—on the thin end—and as long as one’s arm. He gives a list of recommended cuts. I cut a Sitka alder stem of the recommended size from an alder leaning into the road.
The goal is to make each cut in about a minute. I’m in no danger of beating that speed, but it’s more important to make the cuts precise than it is to do them fast.
I spent the rest of my afternoon tracking and wandering the local area. It ended far too soon and I returned home very satisfied with the outing.