This was one of those days when I knew I would be hiking, most likely solo and I went to bed the night before not knowing where I would go but hoping inspiration would magically strike me before I drove away from home in the morning.
I didn’t get out of the house as early as I wanted so my plan to do a nice long hike was thwarted. I knew I was heading up HWY 2 and would most likely do a repeat hike but hope to explore it more than I had previously.
I settled on hiking a trail I had snowshoed for the first time in March and wanted to return to in order to actually see the trail and know where it was supposed to go. As is often the case with winter trips, you don’t follow the actual trail. You will take a more direct and/or safer route to your destination. That is if you are even able to make it there at all due to conditions.
Beckler Peak sits outside the town of Skykomish and is a popular route because it is relatively short and the payoff is big. I have done it multiple times both solo and with family and friends, in all 4 seasons.
As I talk about in my trip report for this hike, I had learned that the trail I knew was actually a new trail and an old (abandoned) one existed that took you over to the West and Middle Peaks of Beckler and where the old lookout used to be. Having only been on the East Peak where the new trail goes, I had always wondered where a lookout would have gone. I had also always wanted to wander over to the other peaks but it always seemed fairly technical to do from the East Peak.
I sent off a text to let someone know where I was headed and drive up HWY 2. I was really glad to not have to work today because the weekend promised to be less than ideal. Not that poor weather has always stopped a hike.
I parked on the side of FR 6066 in the pullout next to where old trail starts because there is no official trailhead, grabbed my pack and headed up. The day was warm so I kept my hiking sandals on but had my Altra’s in my pack just in case. They were already in there from my Sauk Mountain hike; that had been a warm day, too.
The trail begins similar to the new one, up a decommissioned forest road. The grade is easy and the trail wide. There were plenty of mushrooms and crunchy fall leaves under foot.
It was about 30 minutes in that I felt something was missing and I realized I had left my poles in the car. I hate that. Usually I remember soon enough to head back but not this time. I guess there would be ice packs for the knees in my future.
At about 3500ft the trail gets pretty sloppy with runoff and I was glad I had my sandals on and didn’t have to worry about getting my feet wet. It was hard to believe it was November! This time last year I was knee deep in snow at Blanca Lake.
Eventually I left the abandoned forest road all together and ended up on long pleasant switchbacks that give views in between the brush and trees. There are a few places with rock outcroppings that would be a good enough destination if someone didn’t want to head all the way up. I imagined it was one of these were I ended up stopping in March without reaching the lookout.
I could also see old cables on the trail both along side and across as the past continues to cling to the mountain side. The cables weren’t the only things on the trail, there was plenty of cat scat, as well.
Darn, I really wish I had my poles. I pulled my pepper spray out of it’s pocket and hung it on my pack. I love hiking by myself, but this is where being a smaller hiker is not advantageous. I decided to start clapping occasionally as I went along and talk out loud to myself. Not that that doesn’t happen anyway.
The switchbacks took me around to the other side of the ridge and then eventually back over as it comes closer to the top of the West Peak summit. By the time I got to 4700ft or so, the trail was very faint in places and I pushing my way through young trees with their branches crowding the trail. There were quite a few guarding that last push to the lookout area.
As I made my way out onto the clearing and looked out at the valley below, I could see the Skykomish River and it’s namesake town. I could also see up the Foss River valley and the mountains surrounding the lakes there. I wandered around a bit, admiring the wood base of the lookout structure and the artifacts of its history.
But I knew this wasn’t all there was to see. There had to be an actual peak. I looked to the east and saw a faint boot path into the trees. So I followed it, staying to the right. After a few minutes of treading through short brush and tree branches (and fresh elk droppings) I came out to rock cropping that seemed to be the end of the ridge (it appeared to drop off if I continued).
I could see Glacier Peak through the trees and a few other closer peaks like Gunn and Spire. This didn’t seem right, though. I should be able to get to the Middle Peak of Beckler from here. Not seeing a path from here but thinking about the flat area I was in BEFORE the lookout, I headed back down the trail to see if there was another path.
Arriving there, I walked around a bit, peaked through trees (Glacier Peak, again) but didn’t see another path that might take me further than what I had already done. I walked a bit straight up the ridge (to the left of the trail to the lookout) and was rewarded. With a view anyway.
There through the trees was the monolith of the Middle Peak. It was in the direction I knew it had to be. Maybe I just hadn’t gone far enough after the lookout?
So, I went back to the lookout (looked at more cool stuff) and this time saw another boot path a bit more to the left of the first one I had done. I followed this one but it only ended up taking me back to that same rock outcropping (which was probably the summit of the West Peak), only to left side of it. Undeterred, I walked around the rocks sure there was a path to continue along the ridge.
Weaving in between trees, moving to the south towards the edge of the ridge, I eventually found it. The ridge is rather thin here and the trees overgrown but in most places the trail itself is in good condition.
However, there were quite a few trees down to make this part interesting. I had to do a bit of climbing over and around.
The trail stayed on the ridge for a short bit and then comes out onto a talus field with large towering boulders covered with green lichen and etched by the passage of time.
It isn’t long before you can see the Middle Peak above you on the left and the east peak out in front of you.
When I saw it for this first time I had this brief moment when I said, “What?!? Someone beat me here??” because it was already occupied by a few hikers and their dogs. Then, I realized I was not looking at MY destination but folks who had come up the new trail to the East Peak. Duh.
As I got closer and passed the monolith (that I knew I had no intention of attempting), I could see a scramble path up to a summit that would be a nice consolation. I made my way up to a “saddle” between the monolith and the sub summit and paused.
The last 20ft of so were much smoother and the top itself was loose rock. I was sure I could get up there but it was the coming down that made me nervous. Especially being by myself.
So I sat where I was and had lunch and watch the folks over on the other summit as I was sure they were watching me. Having been on that peak with a crowd, it was pretty cool to have my perch to myself. After awhile, I scrambled back down. The path continued over towards the east peak so I walked it a little bit. I was still eyeing that summit, but now from the other side. Was this slope better?
I guess I wasn’t giving up yet and so I assessed a few possible routes up and tested each one. Up and down. Across. Remembering that whole 3 points all time thing. All the while testing the limits of my courage.
I’m sure it must have been entertaining for the folks on the other side, wondering what in the heck was I doing? On my last attempt up I actually made it pretty close before a sheer face (to me anyway) face stopped me. I looked over at the east peak and the hikers there waved. I waved back. I hoped their wave was a sign of encouragement and not “We’ll be able to lead people to your body if you don’t make it.”
Sitting on the edge a few feet across from the sub summit (again, no monolith for me), I decided I had pushed myself enough for the day. Despite being a bit short of my goal, it was a good day.
One of those kinds of days. The kind I live for.
The trip down obviously took half what it took for me to go up as I was able to take the most direct route. The cool water of the soggy trail was refreshing on my feet, even if it did sting a bit from all the scratches the brush had assessed as toll for my adventure.
Okay, maybe one gash and I think I even felt a splinter in between my toes. I wished there was a way to give my complaining knees some of that icing but elevation and ice packs would have to do at home.
I was back down to my car 6 hours after starting my hike, satisfied with today’s adventure. I knew I would be back with someone to share it with and hopefully make it up that last push to the summit.
For more information about this hike and the rest of my pictures, click HERE.
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