Spring Trip to the Pacific Crest

Ray Mears did a wonderful BBC documentary in his Northern Wilderness series on David Thompson.  David Thompson was an employee of the Hudson’s Bay Company who left to join the Northwest Company to explore and map southwest Canada.  In the program, Ray Mears traveled to a few of the places that Thompson had mapped in the Rocky Mountains.  Ray used the grand vistas as a backdrop for discussions of 19th century navigation techniques and bushcraft skills.

His program excited in me a desire to practice my bushcraft skills using modern gear — all of my recent trips were made using 19th century gear.  Given time limitations, I decided to do an early season trip to the Cascades of southern Washington.

As with the Rockies mapped by David Thompson, trappers and traders of the Hudson’s Bay Company wandered these environs with their families seeking beaver fur.  Here in the Cascades, their trails are lost to a century of logging some of the most productive forests in the nation.  But they did lay out the access routes followed by today’s highways and freeways.

I chose to explore the Indian Heaven Wilderness, both because of its proximity to my home and for the name.  Unfortunately, a late season snowfall blocked access.  So, I chose a Klickitat huckleberry gathering spot.  The berry fields are marked by signs reminding us of an agreement reserving the berries for the Klickitat people.

Not knowing how many people to expect, I selected a camp site on the northern edge; figuring I could relocate into the forest if I found noisy crowds.

I packed my gear into the truck in the rain.  According to the weather report the rain was falling as snow in the mountains.  However, it was warming and the snow would change to rain by noon.  Then intermittent rain would fall for the rest of the week; so, I pressed ahead.

My challenges differed from Ray’s.  I discovered that opening mountain roads in the spring means a bit more than simply unlocking the gate and clearing the snow.  In six places, the road was washed out by the winter rains.

This one is about 2’ deep across the paved section of the route; it wasn’t the deepest nor the prettiest.  The roads on the forest are paved former logging tracks kept open for recreation and mountain crossing.

Fallen trees posed another common road obstruction.  Happily, they had already been dealt with before I arrived; those that blocked the whole road were cut, while traffic flowed around partial blockades.  These obstacles are all part of the charm of an early season trip.

Arriving at my selected camping area I found the recent snow had mostly melted under the day’s constant rain.  I had to cut two trees from across the access road and fill one very deep pot hole but other than that, the gravel access road was in great shape.

After scouting around, I chose a site near the center of the lakes and set up camp.  I wanted a group of trees to tie my hammock between.  I also wanted an area sheltered from the wind and away from the huckleberries; in case of bears.

Mist and rain fell all day, but I felt fortunate as there was no further snow.  Sitting in the hammock under the fly eating my lunch while the rain clouds spent their load was a true joy.

When the rain stopped and the wind died it was absolutely quiet.  The silence was so deep that it was very hard for me to consider moving.  Occasionally the soft buzz of bumblebees exploring the surrounding huckleberry flowers would intrude on the silence.  The world was so still…  Stillness brings silence, and silence begets reverence.

However, I didn’t have a film crew to collect firewood for dinner; so, move I must.

The forest here is predominantly subalpine fir with a bit of white pine, lodgepole, and mountain hemlock scattered throughout. At this elevation, the Douglas-fir/western hemlock forest is restricted to sheltered draws and canyons. The site here is too exposed.  I found recently thinned of trees shorter than twelve-feet in the forest along the edge of the campground.  I gathered a few of them for fire wood and camp poles.

The wood of subalpine fir is extremely dense, hard to cut, and devilishly hard to split.  However, since this was the first time I had my axe out in the wild it was rather exciting.

I counted the growth rings on two of the stems and there were about forty years per inch of radius; meaning the three-inch trees I had gathered were all older than 60 years when they were cut.  Given that firs put on one ring of branches every year and it took sixty or more years to reach eight to twelve feet, it’s no wonder they are hard to split!

I passed the afternoon carving bow drill and hand drill shafts from pieces of maple I had collected on my drive from home.  While I worked, a male rufous hummingbird buzzed around my camp investigating the intrusions into its home.  In the intermittent sunshine his color was dazzling; red from the front and orange on the sides.  These hummers were the most numerous birds I saw.

I was able to raise a coal from the maple bow drill on an alder hearth board and convert it to fire using a carefully prepared a nest of old man’s beard and lichen. The lichen mix blazed up enough to ignite bear grass (not really a grass but a lily) and fine twigs.  Time to make Bannock.

Bannock was the staple pan bread of the Canadian fur trade.  The Hudson’s Bay Company brought it to this region in the early decades of the 19th century.  Along with boiled peas it is my staple bushcrafting fare.

Given wood that was happy to smolder away to ash, I had a difficult time heating the pan to the proper temperature.  The cool coals slowly heated my sheet steel pan.  It was too cool right up to the time it was too hot.  Flame is not a friend at this point.

The first Bannock was burned outside and a bit raw inside.  I discovered the key to cooking bannock over subalpine fir is to get the pan about an inch over the feeble coals and shake it so the bannock doesn’t stick.  No flame!

I was feeling particularly happy and calm that evening.  So I dipped into my bag for another cup of coffee.  It was quite a treat to sit in the cool air watching the sun set sipping hot coffee.  As I sat next to the fire a raven passed over.  It was a rather perfect evening.

About 8 pm the first frogs made their presence known.  These few early singers croaked out a very rough song.  After dark, I assume a new species took over as the chorus switched to a more musical four note song.  I translated the song as “who needs crick – ets, who needs crick – ets”.

About midnight the frog song changed again to the familiar cacophony of the Pacific Treefrog.  I suspect that these changes reflect different species.  However it might be different individuals or just different tastes in song.  Regardless, the nights were much louder than the days.  After dark, it was quiet only when the frogs paused their song, and since the frogs on the various lakes never went quiet all at the same time there was never silence.

At one point, I heard a pack of coyotes come through the area and made a note to look for their tracks in the morning.

It was a colder night than I expected and the late cup of coffee combined with my excitement resulted in little sleep.   I shivered and that rocked the hammock inducing dizziness which proved a further challenge to sleep.

The morning dawned clear and cold.  I fixed a breakfast and set out to explore my environs.  The soft ground of the berry fields is crisscrossed with elk trails, which I did my best to separate and follow; distracted occasionally by the flashing movements of golden-mantled ground squirrels and juncos.

I may not have had the spectacular vistas that Ray saw in the Rockies, but Sawtooth Mountain provided a wonderful background, and served as a landmark keeping me aware of my location.

Blooming strawberries filled the spaces between bear grass clumps.  A few elderberry bushes, not yet in bloom, dotted the landscape.  Come late August these fields must provide wonderful forage for bears.

I came across one of the larger ant nests I’ve found in the forest.  It was nearly 4’ in diameter and 2’ tall.  It’s made from collected fir needles.  In a survival situation ant nests like these can provide a source of food.  But it’s exciting to collect.

The second night was even colder than the first.  The clouds cleared and so there was less thermal cover.  I enjoyed the stars for a while but I was very tired from the day’s activities.  At one point during the night I was awakened by a snort.  Since I was of the opinion I had made the sound, and it was so cold, I didn’t pursue the event further.  Upon rising I discovered fresh elk tracks on the road past my camp site, so it may have been an elk.

The day dawned partially cloudy with no rain or much wind.  I spent the next two days exploring the forest, learning the patterns of the residents from their tracks.  This led to spotting a cow elk and calf late in the morning.   They were on their way down to the better cover in the tall timber just to the east of the berry fields.

The early trip provided me a wonderful experience away from our little town and its bustling crowds.  I reconnected with the local wildlands and found new areas to explore.  I’ll be returning here more frequently.