10/1/2023
Section: Milepost 2254.3 to 2280.5
Total Trail Miles: 2280.5 Miles
Distance: 24.2 Miles
Moving Time: 10:35 Hrs
Elevation Gain: 5256 ft
Well… that was, a day. I can confidently say we rang in the spooky month in style. Damn.
Things started as they had just about every other day on the trail. We woke in the morning. It’s really starting to cool down here. We are lower in elevation but a lot farther north now in Washington, so we donned a few layers this morning before heading out. I had my coffee and made Amanda tea and we had a good breakfast. We are in this weird phase where we wouldn’t be in a super big rush in the morning except that it’s cold so that gets us moving because it’s really the only way to warm-up. Kinda interesting because, if you think about it, most of our existence on this planet has probably consisted of cold mornings. Humans, for hundreds of thousands of years, have probably opened their eyes in the morning and thought something along the same lines I now think every morning - “don’t make me get out of this warm sleeping bag.Don’t make me leave this comfort!” Once out though, the next thing your body immediately wants to do is start moving, because once you start moving, you start warming up.
We were underway around 7:45 am. Heading northeast. The stage today leaves the little meadow we camped at last night and runs northeast, overcoming two 500’ ramps in just under 6 miles while passing through a series of small ponds and into the Goat Rocks Wilderness. This early climb tops out at around 5700’ before descending again into another set of ponds and continuing on through a gently sloping basin - likely another old lava field or caldera. At 10.5 miles in, the PCT intersects with the Walput Lake Trail and begins the first half of a large ascent that defines the second half of the stage. The trail climbs the west side of a north-south running ridge, leveling out just above 5800’ before circumventing the head of the Walput Creek cirque and passing by Sheep lake, which sits on a promontory off of Nannie Ridge. Here the trail begins to break out of the tree line as it makes a turn back north and continues up the ridge, crossing over an unnamed pass and briefly entering the Yakima Indian Reservation before crossing back into the Goat Rocks Wilderness at Cispus Pass. The stage then circumvents the head of a larger cirque, The Cispus River Cirque, before turning north again and committing to the alpine, climbing further to over 7000 feet on the northwest side of Old Snowy Mountain where the PCT offers amazing views of Mt. Rainier. Here, the stage casts hikers out onto what is arguably the most airy section of the entire trail - the Knife Edge. This 3 mile section seesaws the edge of a stark ridge between Old Snowy Mountain and Elk Pass before dropping off the north side and ending at the source of the Clear Fork of the Cowlitz River.
The early part of today passed without a whole lot of incident. We hiked through lush, green forests for most of the day without seeing many people. This section of the PCT is riddled with side trails due to its proximity with White Pass but we were largely able to avoid getting confused. About mid-morning we ran into a group of guys out on an early fall backpacking trip. We talked to them for a while and they gave us some Scotch. At around 4 pm, we hit Cispus pass and got some gorgeous views of the backside of the Goat Rocks. We stopped for a snack and to take some photos. The atmospheric river had clearly left some snow behind but, from this angle, it looked like most of it was up high. We carried on.
At around mile 19 we passed a turn-off for Snowgrass Trail. As we went by it we noted a large arrow etched into the trail pointing to the side trail. I took a look at my map app to make sure we continued on. It appeared that this trail could be used as a bypass for the Knife Edge, which I knew was up ahead of us, but it’s not a convenient alternative as it drops hikers out on White Pass approximatly 20 miles from where the PCT intersects it. Amanda and I figured it was a sign for someone who wanted to let their part know they had taken it and, for all we know, that’s what it could have been for. At about 1 hour before nightfall, we broke solidly into the alpine and hit snow. When I look back on the last 4 hours of the day and the tsunami of discomfort that surged in those hours, this is where it began. We knew that a lot of water had fallen on this section of the trail over the last 4 days but it had also been fairly warm. Snow was just not something that we had contented with in over 3 months so it wasn’t on our radar but as the trail disappeared below my feet and the bootpack did as well shortly after, a situation started to develop. We stopped on the northwest side of Old Snowy Mountain and admired the setting sun to the west, illuminating Mt. Rainier in glorious light, intermittently obscured by a heavy fog welling up out of the Upper Lake Creek valley, and then continued on.
It’s here that we probably should have stopped. We were 17 miles from the van and we could have probably made it there the next day. Removing absolute darkness from the equation might have made what came next a little more tolerable but this is the nature of the PCT - you hike until you can’t anymore and that’s the way we do it. I had picked a spot on the other side of the Knife Edge and that’s what we were shooting for. We stepped off of the little promontory and onto the northern slope of Old Snowy Mountain. The initial two-hundred yards weren’t that bad but then we ran into the first exposed section. The slope here was about 34-45 degrees as we traversed and we were now walking with headlamps. Below us was nothing but steep snow for a thousand feet. We crossed the 20 yard section, a little uncomfortable, and then continued on. This is how we got ourselves into what I call the Lobster Trap. I try to avoid these situations, but they are not altogether unfamiliar to Amanda or me. Basically, once you’ve gotten past a few sketchy sections on a given objective, you are looking at two options - go back and redo some spots you know are really bad or carry on and hope what’s ahead will be better. In this case, what was ahead was not better.
Amanda and I entered into what I can only describe as one of the scariest sections of the trail, and potentially our entire outdoor experience. Section after section of highly exposed, very steep traverses all covered in 12-18 inches of unconsolidated snow. Amanda and I aren’t newbies at this. We are both experienced mountaineers and have no small amount of time on steep snow. The difference, in this case, was that we were totally unprepared. Even just an ice axe would have been a huge improvement on this section but we had had no reason to carry one. As it was, we inched through sections, stomping fresh tracks in trail runners and plunged our poles as deep as they would go in sad impressions of a self belay. At points, I was thankful for the darkness because I honestly didn’t want to know what was below. Amy Lu had described the Knife Edge as unnerving in the daylight and in dry conditions and I knew there was very bad runout through vast lengths of this section - places that an unarrested fall would send us over a cliff.
As we went on, the most unnerving part became large vertical ridges of especially steep snow that had to be climbed around. Mostly these were sketchy because, due to the snow conditions, it was difficult to tell if they would hold once out on them and there was really no telling if a dismount on the other side was possible, or even what was on the other side. Fortunately, there were only about 3-4 of these situations but they contributed to an overall unease about what was coming next as we wound through very exposed space on the Knife Edge. I constantly worried about getting cliffed out to a point that going back was the only option. Even the moon was creepy. On an ordinary night, the large, orange harvest moon that rose above us would have been wonderful to look at but, under the circumstances, it seemed more like a bad omen. Out in the distance I could see little specks of light in the vast, dark landscape - likely other hikers out enjoying their campsites in the evening. I thought about what one of them would think, looking up on this pronounced ridge and seeing two tiny headlamps slowly making their way across it in the darkness and in that moment I felt incredibly small - just a spot of light in the black.
4 hours of terror brought us to Elk Pass, where the Coyote Trail ran off to the northwest and, seemingly, where many sane day trippers had been able to get to before saying “no way” to the Knife Edge. From here, the boot pack was a comfort, though there were still some sketchy sections, but we were able to wind our way back down and eventually reach my target camp on the far north side of the Knife Edge, just above the treeline.
We reached camp around 10 pm, nerves absolutely fried and set up in a kind of numb silence. As the adrenaline left our system we caught each other looking back up at the Knife Edge, in clear view from our campsite, and let out a collective sigh of relief before starting to comment on our harrowing adventure. We ate, talking about each little spot that had terrified us, and how it would have been so much better even with just an ice axe, or maybe in the daylight or with just a little less snow. Ultimately, we agreed that it was the sketchiest thing we had done on the PCT. We decided to turn in and get some much needed rest. I set my GoPro up on a timer to take a night shot at around 3 AM before getting in the tent and putting together a report for FarOut. There shouldn’t be too many people behind us but I would like to save them from the terror if possible. It reads,
Be Aware - Between 9/26 and 9/28 a large atmospheric river weather pattern delivered appreciable precipitation to much of the Washington Cascades, which fell as snow above 6500 feet. This weather pattern left much of the Knife Edge traverse covered in 6-18 inches of snow especially on northern facing aspects. This section is now far more technically challenging and should be considered a mountaineering objective. An ice axe and spikes are strongly suggested. There are at least 3-4 fall zones on steep aspects where failure to arrest quickly would be fatal. The most challenging section is at the beginning NOBO while traversing under the northern facing aspect of Old Snowy mountain. Evaluate this 100 yard section first and, if you feel you are able to cross safely, then other sections with similar exposure should be passable. This is a committed and slow section under current conditions with limited spots to bail. We did this in the dark so I was unable to evaluate the Coyote Trail as a potential bail out point but it may be possible there, though the boot pack becomes much more defined at this point which helps complete the traverse. These conditions will likely last another week, at least, assuming no fresh snow falls in the interim.
-Sheets and Riverdancer
Hoping that it would get out in time to prevent anyone leaving Trout Lake from attempting the ridge, I passed out, finally letting my mind release the tension it had been holding since sunset.
