Summerland And Bust
I had to sit down to write about our last day on the trail multiple times and I am not sure why it was so hard. I guess because the end turned out to be rather anticlimactic. Sorry if anyone was holding their breath.
It must have rained off and on through the night, but I awoke to a lull with only the water logged branches overhead dripping onto my tent. We reluctantly stepped out of our dry shelters and assessed the skies for a chance of clearing; the sun was up but not visible through the grey skies and the ridge above camp was obscured. It didn’t look hopeful but it was still early.
I quickly packed up my tent, shaking my rainfly off and strapping it to the top of my pack. I made sure my dry items were tucked securely in the trash compactor bag that lines it. We hiked out about 6:30 am and would wait to see what the day had to offer, making a decision when we got to Summerland.
Although it was not raining, the air was thick with moisture and the brushy trail through the meadows was saturated. The climb up out of Indian Bar was a sluice and each stair step held a draining puddle of water. It drizzled off and on and each time we went through a clearing in the trees, the wind would blow through and chill us.
It was no surprise that the views were limited as we made our way through the Ohanapecosh Park. I could faintly see the ashen rock below the glaciers with white churned waterfalls cascading down and through a dwindling snow cave.
My impression through this area is one of red rock and green lichen dotted with small yellow flowers, all seen through the hazy lens of low laying clouds. It was elegant and somber. With the wind picking up and visibility about 100 yards, I stood at the top of Panhandle Gap at its 6800 feet elevation and looked down into the barren land of Mordor.
The trail is loose rock through here as it first follows the side of the ridge down and then winds through boulders and recesses next to the Sarvent Glacier. We didn’t take the most direct route down because even with the spray painted park cairns, it is hard to tell what the actual trail is and what are boot paths made around ever receding pockets of snow.
The rock changed as we lost elevation from the stark grey slabs of Panhandle to smoother multi-colored rock of green, blue and brown punctuated with a few lingering snow fields and their runoff.
I couldn’t see the peaks, glaciers or ridges above, only their near vertical walls to my right and it was anyone’s guess what was to the east, there was nothing but white. I figured I would look that up on the map when I got home (glaciers and Cowlitz Chimneys).
The trail slowly moved into worn meadows punctuated with trail preservation signs indicating I was closing in on an area normally overrun with boots and cameras: the famous Summerland. Somewhere around this point is when the rain and humidity became too much to keep pulling out my phone and the pictures stopped. Maybe I figured I would have to come back anyway.
I could see the group shelter as I turned at the junction for the camp and I approached hoping it had been emptied of last night’s occupants. No such luck, I heard voices from within.
I walked back to the junction and waited in some trees for Steve to come up the trail. As he approached me, I gave him an inquiring look about our decision to stay or go. He waved me on, making the decision to push on and hike out.
I felt bad for Steve; he had been looking forward to camping and taking pictures here since the beginning of our journey. His camera was still hung neglected around his neck, covered with a gallon Ziploc bag containing a small puddle of brown water in the bottom. I suggested we go and ask the folks in the shelter if we could just sit for a few minutes before pressing on.
A dad and young son still in his flannel pajamas were gracious enough to let us sit on the edge of the shelter as we had a bite to eat and Steve rearranged items in his pack. They, too, were prolonging the hike out.
There was yet another mischievous chipmunk running under the worn boards of the shelter floor making the young boy hold onto his bowl of oatmeal tighter and he pointed out the years of graffiti on the roof when the discussion turned to how old the shelter might be. Piles of lumber and plastic covered construction supplies sitting next to the shelter indicated it would soon be updated.
Our hike down from Summerland to White River included rows of Gortex covered day hikers heading up in the dreary mess from the Fryingpan Creek Trailhead (it was Saturday), I imagine they were hoping that the weather would break by the time they got out into view areas. There was also a dedicated trail crew of volunteers, both young and old, on the trail learning how to install what appeared to be a drainage feature.
I passed a trail crew leader with his shiny hard hat nibbling on a sandwich; he asked me if the swishing plastic around my waist was a rain skirt. I replied that indeed it was. He nodded and smiled approvingly.
My first and only ford of the trip was at White River because the park does such a good job of maintaining the river crossings. Because of the rain, the river had stretched past the foot bridge they had provided, so we had to walk in the water about 5 feet to hop onto its security. As we crossed, I could see a group of hikers wandering upstream; when they saw us they made their way down towards where we were.
It must be hard to find the trail from the clockwise direction. Like the South Mowich River crossing, it was a hodgepodge of logs and small bridges to cross this ever shifting flow of water. The trail damage through here was obvious; the path had been redirected several times and trees dangled precariously over us on eroded banks as we made our way up to the level of the campground.
The trail comes out into the White River drive in campground, and the campers huddling under blue tarps brought back many a memory from my Pacific Northwest childhood. Dirt turned to pavement as I wove through the campsites, coming out at an actual restroom next to the main road through the campground.
Here, I told Steve I was going to use the facilities before we headed up our last 2.7 miles to Sunrise. Steve said he would press on and I’d see him on the way up. I thoroughly enjoyed my few minutes of dry reprieve, noticing that all of me was wet except for the area under my rain skirt. After pointlessly dabbing myself dry with paper towels, it was time to get moving and finish this thing.
Following the road and signs, along with a trail runner heading in the same direction, I began my ascent to the car through this forested section, anticipating Steve just a few minutes ahead of me. However, as I continued to climb, he didn’t materialize. Either he was so motivated to get to the car that he was practically running up the hill or I had somehow passed him back in the campground.
I finally asked some passing day hikers if they had seen him and when they said they hadn’t, I began to worry a bit. I told them if they saw him behind me, I would be waiting in the gift shop.
It wasn’t long before I connected with the Silver Forest Trail that started the journey and turned right towards the Sunrise visitor center. Arriving at 2pm, I first went over to the ranger station to let them know we would not be using our reservation for Summerland tonight just in case someone needed it.
People were coming and going in a kaleidoscope of colored rain ponchos and umbrellas; I was surprised to see so many people out for the day despite the inclement weather.
I then walked over to the building with the snack bar and gift shop where families pulling sandwiches and potato chips out of their coolers took up most of the seats designated for the grill so I stood over by the heater dripping onto the wood floor and holding a steaming cup of tea.
Steve arrived about an hour later; we changed into dry clothes and made our way back down the mountain to Longmire to pick up the resupply box waiting there for us. Turns out that Steve had stopped in the campground at a canopy booth being set up for a trail running event and he had procured a few beverages for us. I must have passed him while he was doing this and unfortunately left behind the gift as I continued on the trail. Bummer.
We were so tired and ready to be home we forgot to take an “after picture” and it took most of the ride to the Wilderness Information Center to feel truly thawed out. I sent messages to family I would be home a day early as reception was possible off and on.
My mom replied she that was not surprised I was already done. My son replied with a text that he was in the emergency room with my mom getting stitches after cutting himself running around the house frantically doing the chore list I had left him but he had thought he would do at the last minute.
Good grief, glad to see that not much had changed while I was gone.
When people ask me about my Wonderland experience now, it has been hard to describe. I am not sure if it is because there is SO much media hype about it being the epitome of hiking in Washington State or because I have so many other great hikes under my belt already.
I can’t say it was the hardest thing I have done and I use metaphors when talking about different areas. “Well, this section of trail is like the Goat Rocks”, for example. Blasphemy, I know.
Don’t get me wrong, it was truly amazing and I am excited to return to rehike my favorite spots and adventure off onto loops and other less explored areas of the park. Hiking the iconic Wonderland gives you examples of the variety of hiking available in Washington State all in one convenient package.
But if you want more wilderness or were not lucky enough to get a permit, there are places to be found in the Pacific Northwest offering the same if not better exposure and views of what can be had. All while you are waiting for your turn at hiking the Wonderland, of course.
If you would like to learn more about planning your own Wonderland trip and my itinerary details, check out my Wonderland page. If you would like to learn more about the permit process, read How To Increase Your Odds of Getting Wonderland Permits!
Thank you so much for stopping by Must Hike Must Eat!
If you need some healthy eating inspiration start here:..
Need some eating out suggestions when friends want to stop after a hike? I have a Pacific Northwest Eating Guide here.
Find out what’s been happening outside the blog:
If you have a question you don’t want to post in the comments, you can ask them here:
Discover more from Must Hike Must Eat
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.