We were five days into a trek across Olympic National Park – at low elevation in mid-summer. Even though I was tired and about as cold as I think I've ever been, I was relishing the experience. I knew it was always the hard days that we remember most, and most of the days on this trip were hard. Really hard. And after this experience down at Cream Lake I knew I’d be able to tell a good story.
We also remember the beautiful days. Our ten-day journey – our own take on a traverse of the Bailey
The Cascades have a reputation for long and brushy approaches, and the Pickets, a subrange in far northern Washington, have a particularly bad reputation in both respects. Even after escaping the dense vegetation, reaching many of the summits would feature more technical climbing than hiking. Together, these two factors have deterred most hikers from even contemplating a trip to this rugged and scenic area.
The Pickets' reputation is not entirely deserved: Whatcom Peak at the far nort
The Rocky Mountains provide hikers with countless opportunities to immerse themselves in backcountry areas filled with quintessential landforms. Majestic mountain peaks, sublime subalpine lakes, waterfalls, glaciers, and wildflower-filled meadows come immediately to mind. Rolling high-altitude plateaus, cascading mountain streams, and fragrant forests of dense conifers are also key contributors to this enchanting landscape. Somewhat surprisingly, there are even some natural arches scattered acro
The trail before me had become a treacherous, muddy mess. My backpack felt like a sodden weight pulling me down, and my shoes squished and oozed water with every step. I was looking down at what would have been a sharp descent, now transformed into a muddy slide. As I debated between simply sitting down on the trail and letting gravity carry me along or staggering forward and attempting to remain upright, I thought again about how I had let this happen.
The answer involved a series of
It rained, and then it rained some more, and then it snowed. And then it began raining again. It was the first week in May in Boulder, a time when hikers start looking to the hills, and begin hanging up snowshoes and getting out the trail runners. It would be a month or more before the high country was open, of course, but some lower-elevation hikes – Lost Creek Wilderness, the first sections of the Colorado Trail – would be feasible with 3-season gear. Usually.
But not this year. 3 weeks o
The expression “timing is everything”, occasionally derided as a common-sense platitude, is compelling when applied to backpacking. Hiking along a knife-edge ridge at sunset, watching sunrise from a campsite above timberline, encountering wildlife unexpectedly, getting the tent pitched at the last possible minute before a storm – meticulously planned or completely serendipitous, such moments are part of the thrill of backpacking. The physical act of backpacking, simply walking with a burden of g
The early-season opportunity to bike portions of Going to the Sun in Glacier National Park without any automobile traffic seems too good to be true. Miles of paved road passing alongside streams rushing with snowmelt, climbing into the high country, weaving through lush forests – all behind a gate and open only to bicycles and foot traffic. I’ve done enough recreational road biking and bike commuting to develop a sincere appreciation of a smooth surface, hard tires, and minimal traffic through b
There are certain trails which, when hiked in certain seasons, can be so blissfully pleasant as to seem almost otherworldly. Each step is a pleasure. Every view is breathtaking. The scents of the forest are almost intoxicating. Chirping birds, chattering squirrels and rushing creeks create a soundtrack that is almost orchestral. Spending unhurried time in nature seems to be one of the most refreshing things humans can do for themselves and one of the few activities which consistently pays out re
Living in New Jersey, I’ve hiked all over my state: from the northwest region of the Water Gap, to the New Jersey Highlands (and their frequent view of New York City), to the majesty of the Pine Barrens in the south. I have made infrequent forays into the bordering states of Pennsylvania and New York, hiking a trail or two in both Harriman and Bear Mountain State parks. This past Fall, looking for something a little higher, different scenery, and a little bigger, I decided to explore both Harrim
Earth Day was a perfect day, in regards to both weather and spirit, to embark on my first backpacking trip of the year. The destination, the Frank Church-River of No Return Wilderness, seemed particularly fitting as well as a bit daunting. Covering over 2.3 million acres, this area is one of the wildest places in the Lower 48. With the high country still covered in snow, I would limit my hiking on this trip to a mere five miles on the Lower Salmon River Trail and a short way up the Horse Creek T
I awoke in the comfort of the back of my vehicle as the Pacific Ocean’s peaceful waves gently moved across the nearby beach. I quickly drove away and soon found myself driving on a remote forest road. Fortunately I had checked road conditions and discovered that I needed to detour to avoid a landslide. The road was bumpy and had deep cracks. My vehicle has all-wheel drive, but not high clearance. With careful maneuvering I arrived at the Chetco Divide/Vulcan Peak Trailhead and the edge of Oregon
It is one thing to conceptually understand that you have the gear to bivy at 7,500 feet in the Northern Rockies with a forecast of six degrees below zero. It is another thing entirely to find yourself in circumstances where you end up having to do exactly that. And it was in such circumstances that I found myself on the last night of the year. Perhaps I shouldn’t have turned down that invitation to a New Year’s Eve party after all.
At the trailhead
The Trip Begins
I left hom
As a follow-up to Curry Caputo's excellent Issue 52 article Of Life and of Maine's 100 Mile Wilderness, a story that details a family backpacking journey through the wilderness of Maine and to the top of Mount Katahdin, here is the full narrated, audio version of the story alongside video documenting the entire trip. You can read the original article here in Issue 52, and watch and listen to the video below: