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Sourdough Mountain Lookout

July 31, 2015August 7, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

When I decided I wanted to hike up 30 peaks before I turned 30, I knew I had to put Sourdough on the list. This hike has a reputation for being tough but incredibly beautiful and bonus: there is a lookout at the top! And not just any lookout but a lookout made famous by the poet Gary Snyder with views of the endless jagged North Cascade peaks as well as Ross Lake and the emerald green Diablo Lake. It’s nearly a vertical mile to the lookout but worth every last excruciating step.

In 1952, Gary Snyder was looking for work through the Marblemount forest service and requested to be sent to the “highest, most remote, and most difficult-of-access lookout” in the district. They all laughed at him and sent him to Crater Mountain. He fell in love with the lookout life on that sharp-peaked mountain with a non-existent trail. He had to stash his supplies farther down the mountain and take many trips scrambling up and down to the lookout. But he relished in the solitude and practiced his zen buddhism. At the end of the season he didn’t want to leave the mountain and couldn’t wait for the next summer to return.

But the forest service decided not to man the Crater Mountain lookout in 1953. Turns out that the over 8000ft summit of Crater Mountain was too high to make a good lookout. Often the high lookout was obscured by clouds while nearby lower peaks were clear of the ceiling. So Gary was assigned to Sourdough Mountain. Gary called Sourdough “so mild in comparison” to Crater Mountain, which is hard to believe, but he no longer had to scramble up to the lookout with supplies. The mules dropped it all off at the front steps. Unfortunately, that summer would be his last at Sourdough or any other lookout for the matter. It was the McCarthy era and Gary was black-listed from government work for having relationships with alleged communists. Heartbroken and determined to work in the outdoors rather than have a regular 9-5, he resorted to a logging job in Oregon. Some of his best poetry came from this hard time in his life.

But before Gary Snyder there were the Davises. The nearby Davis Peak is named for Lucinda Davis, a single mother with three children who moved from Colorado into an abandoned cabin which she turned into a supply store for the busy mining areas of Thunder and Ruby creeks in the 1890’s. Lucinda and her son Glee made the first horse trail up to the summit of Sourdough where they would go for picnics. In 1915, Glee set up the first fire lookout site in the North Cascades on Sourdough. It was just a tent camp then before Glee built the first lookout structure in the cupola style of the time in 1917. The lookout stood watch until the 1930’s when it was replaced by a more modern style. This modern structure is the lookout that Gary Snyder would later man in 1953 and still stands today.

Things to Do Around a Lookout

Wrap up in a blanket in cold weather and just read

Practice writing Chinese characters with a brush

Paint pictures of the mountains

Put out salt for deer

Bake coffee cake and biscuit in the iron oven

-Excerpt from poem by Gary Snyder

I climbed for what seemed like all day through the ghost forest on Sourdough when I broke out into the high meadows. I was yet to see another person on the trail and I stopped in my tracks to gaze upon the glacial green Diablo Lake almost a mile below. The sitka valerian and spirea swayed softly in the wind as my skin soaked up the sun. I tore myself away with the promise of even more rewarding views at the lookout. Just as I crested the summit I passed a man and his son just starting their descent. “You made it all the way up here on your own?” he asked. “You bet I did,” I replied.

Riprap and Cold Mountain Poems by Gary Snyder

This is Gary’s first book of published poems and it is the one that made him famous. There are a few poems in the book about his time as a lookout and as a logger in Oregon, but most of the poems are about his time spent in the Sierra Nevada in California where he still lives today. His style is heavily influenced by the beautifully simplistic Japanese style and was a revolution in American poetry in it’s day. This collection is a wonderful example of his great nature poetry and makes a great addition to the outdoor book lover’s bookshelf.

Hikes Featured in this Post:
Sourdough Mountain

Outdoor Life

Hiking History: Tatoosh

July 24, 2015August 7, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

In 1943 the Packwood district forest service, located just south of Mt Rainier National Park, assigned their first lady lookout to Tatoosh Ridge. A Seattle school teacher named Martha Hardy spent that summer in the lookout watching for fires, keeping the lookout fixed up and tidy and befriending a ground squirrel. Back then they couldn’t leave the lookout without permission for the entire summer. She asked to go run a new telephone wire to the pole outside so that she could frolic in the avalanche lilies just a little bit. She wrote a book about her summer as a lookout and doesn’t shy away from sharing her fears, mistakes and loneliness during her time on Tatoosh. In fact, the first fire that she called in ended up being just a waterfall. She was horrified, but she eventually became friendly with the receptionists and the forest service men below and her mistake turned into a cherished and funny memory.

“Without my willing it or knowing how it came about, I was a rock with the rocks, a bee with the bees, a flower with the flowers. My ears drank in the murmur of the wind, my skin the sunshine, my eyes the flutter of a small blue butterfly over a mat of lavender phlox. I was part of all I saw and heard and felt.” – Martha Hardy

So naturally, after reading about this spunky local trailblazer, I had to go follow in her footsteps. I enlisted a hiking buddy and last weekend we headed to Tatoosh. The lookout itself is long gone and the trail is listed as “endangered” in the hiking guide book with little foot traffic these days. We knew the road was washed out before the trailhead too so we were ready for a bit of an adventurous day. We parked at the washout, headed up the last bit of road and found the trail abruptly rising through the forest. We strangely but happily snacked on ripened huckleberries and blueberries along the trail, which is usually a late August luxury, and finally broke out into the high meadows. Radiant fireweed painted the hillsides a deep magenta and we stopped to marvel at the variety of wildflowers on the trail although they were a bit past their prime already.

Once we were high on the ridge we started looking for a trail heading up to our left and found one after a short time. We made a last push on a fading trail to the summit on a small landing overlooking Tatoosh Lakes below. We were blown away by the views of Mt Rainier. I wandered around looking for any traces of the lookout (their weren’t any) and we celebrated with some gingerbread that I made in honor of Martha Hardy. When she had guests at the lookout she would get so excited that she would cook a massive amount of food for them like spaghetti and meatballs, chicken soup, biscuits and gingerbread. I found an old war time recipe that I thought may be similar to what she made. It was pretty good, but we made a list of ingredients that we thought would make it better like dried fruit, raisins and chunks of ginger. After a long time imagining what it would have been like spending every day right at this spot we got out the map to identify the surrounding peaks. Then we figured out we were on the wrong mountain.

In retrospect it was quite obvious that we were in the wrong place. The first thing I said at the top was, “huh, I wonder why they didn’t put the lookout on that bigger ridge over there,” while pointing to the actual lookout spot. And my trail buddy was wondering why we couldn’t see the smaller lakes we knew were below the lookout site. Also, it didn’t seem like we hiked far enough to be there already. After a closer look at the map we determined we had about another mile and a half to go. We laughed in disbelief and then decided to go for it the rest of the way over to the real lookout site. We hustled along the mostly flat trail while I kept exclaiming, “After all that, I can’t believe we went to the wrong mountain! Ahh!” The tread worsened along the steep ridge and after we turned a corner we found we were still pretty far away and significantly lower than the top of the ridge. We checked our water and energy levels and decided both were pretty low. We reluctantly decided to save it for another time. I was sad that my master plan was thwarted but as we hiked down the steep trail we came up with a plan for an improved return trip. We would come back when the wildflowers are in full bloom and with a new and enhanced version of gingerbread.

After what seemed like forever we were back at the car. On the way home we talked about how beautiful the little-used trail was and we were already looking forward to returning. We now knew what we were getting into and would not make the same mistake again. But like Martha mistaking a waterfall for a wildfire, our misguided effort turned into a great story, one that we will not soon forget. It was still an incredible hike and I will just have to dream about Martha Hardy’s little slice of paradise for another year. Next summer I’ll re-read the book while perfecting my gingerbread recipe in anticipation. And sometimes the anticipation is the best part.

Gingerbread Recipe:

2 1/2 cups flour
2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp ground ginger
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground cloves
1 cup sugar
1 cup vegetable oil
1 cup molasses
1 cup boiling water
2 eggs

1. Sift flour, measure; sift again with baking soda, salt and spices.

2. In a separate bowl, combine sugar, vegetable oil and molasses; add boiling water; stir until well mixed. Add dry ingredients gradually, beating well after each addition.

3. Add well-beaten eggs.

4. Bake in well-greased 8 x 8 square pan at 350˚F for 40 minutes or until gingerbread is done.

Tatoosh by Martha Hardy

Martha Hardy’s writing really makes you feel like you are there on the lookout back in 1943. This book is so different from the lookout accounts I featured in the Camp Reads: Lookout Edition. Being a lookout in the 1940’2 was hard work. She was one tough lady to do what she did back then, but she didn’t think that she was different than her male counterparts and just did her best to perform her duties. Her story is funny, real and incredibly entertaining. It now has a special place on my bookshelf.

Outdoor Life

Silver Star Mountain

July 2, 2015August 7, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

On July 4, 2013 as I was working on my 30 peaks by 30, I climbed up Silver Star Mountain. It seemed like an appropriate choice for the holiday and I was happy to see that the flowers were in full bloom for the occasion. The hike is not difficult and from the summit you can see Mt Adams and Mt St Helens. But as nice as the summit is, this trail is all about the flowers. Get lost along the many trails that wander this mountain and see how many red, white and blue flowers you can find.

Happy 4th of July!

Hikes Featured in this Post:
Silver Star Mountain

Outdoor Life

Juneau

June 20, 2015August 7, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

If you haven’t noticed by now, I kind of have a thing for Alaska. A few weeks ago Passage to Juneau watched me from the seatback pocket as I was once again giddy with joy on an airplane headed north. I had every intention of reading a good chunk of the book during the flight but I couldn’t tear my darn forehead from the window. I know. I should have been contemplating the epic journeys of Captain Vancouver and Jonathon Raban via sailboat from my hometown of Seattle along the inside passage to Juneau as that same brilliant blue water snaked along below me. After all, I was watching their entire route condensed in a few hour flight. But I wasn’t thinking of them.

I was thinking of my husband. He’s flown this exact route countless times and has never taken a single photo! He never calls me upon landing and exclaims the joys of the great fjords and glaciers he just witnessed! This I will never understand. But it didn’t really matter much, I was coming to see him. His work shift was ending and I had quit my job three weeks earlier. My quick trip to Juneau was my last hoorah before starting a new job. And the forecast was all sun and 75 degrees.

There were really only two things on my list to do in Juneau: visit the Mendenhall glacier and climb Mt Juneau. I left the rest up to my husband. We set up camp at Mendenhall Lake Campground (which is amazing) and headed out for an afternoon hike to Spaulding Meadow. The trail starts out on an old courderoy road and then quickly narrows into a muddy mess. But the views from the meadows are lovely, enticing us to explore more.

Later we had a barbeque dinner with friends on the beach. We chatted about life in Juneau and the differences between it and Seattle, and of course, the weather. A fishing boat pulled up on the beach and some more people joined us (sadly empty handed), and we watched the most beautiful sunset that seemed to go on forever.

The next morning we ate breakfast on the lakeshore near our campsite and then headed to the glacier. We were early enough to beat the crowds and enjoyed the short hike to the waterfall with only a few others. We slowly wandered back along the shoreline looking for an iceberg we could catch. We found one just a few feet out and my husband picked it up and raised it like a trophy as I snapped photos.

Later we headed out on the same boat that had visited us the night before. We spent the day chasing whale spouts and flukes and changing bait as we crept around the shoreline looking for the elusive king salmon. Late in the day we finally had a bite. Our captain friend reeled in a monster 35lb king salmon! He said it was the biggest fish he ever caught. On the way back we spotted two whales breaching and splashing about with their tails. They appeared to be playing in the water in front of us. We watched for awhile, mesmerized.

The last morning we headed downtown and up the tiny narrow streets to the Mt Juneau trailhead. The trail starts out on the Perseverance Trail. This trail was originally used by the native people as a hunting and berry picking route and later became the first road ever built in Alaska. It was constructed after gold was found in the Silverbow Basin in the 1880’s. As we climbed up to the Mt Juneau trailhead, we passed an abandoned mine shaft and looked down on an old mining building turned into a museum and even spotted some tourists panning for gold in the creek.

From here the trail climbs quite abruptly to the meadows below the summit. The trail then weaves and eases ever so slightly into switchbacks. There were only a few patches of snow along the trail and at the summit, quite unheard of typically in early June. From the top we counted the cruise boats below and spotted the airport. We pondered the abandoned shack and cables that were built in the 1970’s intended for an aerial tramway from town. The tram project was cancelled for some reason (probably because it proved an impossible task) but was revitalized in the 1990’s. This time the tram was built on the adjacent Mt Roberts where it still operates today.

We took off that night for Seattle and climbed through rain clouds. The forecast in Juneau for the foreseeable future was rain and 60 degrees. I thought about how incredible the trip had been. Everything was perfect: the campsite, the glacier, sunsets, playful whales, king salmon catch, weather and, most importantly, the company.

Passage to Juneau by Jonathan Raban

Raban’s journey in the 1990’s was not quite as happy and romantic as mine, but then he did choose to sail from Seattle to Juneau alone on a 35-foot sailboat. His journey was more dark and foggy, riddled with loss and the realities of the hard hit logging and fishing towns of coastal Canada. Raban weaves his own narrative with the stories of Captain Vancouver and the first peoples of this once rich land. It’s long and contemplative and easy to get lost in, just like the inside passage.

See Also: A Wolf Called Romeo by Nick Jans (A plaque about Romeo is on a rock along the short path to Mendenhall Glacier)

More info about Juneau:

Mendenhall Glacier Visitor Center and Trail Maps

Perserverance Trail History

Hikes Featured in this Post:

Spaulding Meadow

Nugget Falls Trail to Mendenhall Glacier overlook

Mt Juneau

Outdoor Life

Lake Chelan

June 12, 2015August 7, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

Oh, Lake Chelan, you sparkling emerald among mighty peaks, you snake of a sea! Adventure awaits behind your every curve, mystery fills your depths. Your Lady carries us as we crane our necks in wonder. Oh, Lake Chelan, you beauty of a lake, you jewel of a sea, you are the greatest lake, perhaps the greatest that will ever be!

I’ve been intrigued by Lake Chelan since I moved to Seattle in 2006. I heard about tiny isolated places only accessible by boat like Stehekin, Holden Village and Lucerne nestled In the towering North Cascade mountains along a sparkling lake. From there you could access the remote Glacier Peak Wilderness and places like Lyman Lakes, Spider Gap and Image Lake. These distant and hard to reach places are just far enough away from Seattle to be truly remote and I was fascinated by them.

Finally a few years ago we decided to check out Stehekin. The tiny town sits at the northernmost tip of the lake and the only way to get there is to fly or take the ferry boat, Lady of the Lake, fifty miles from the town of Chelan at the southern terminus of the lake. So I booked a couple nights at the historic Campbell’s Resort and reserved our spot on the boat for a day trip to Stehekin.

When we arrived in Chelan in April the weather was beautiful and sunny, a welcome contrast to the spring rainy season in Seattle. I received a notification that there was an issue with the ferry boat and that we would be traveling on the ‘slow’ boat since the ‘fast’ boat had a mechanical issue. I called them and the very nice lady explained that the trip up the lake would take 4 hours each way with only a short layover in Stehekin. She suggested we reschedule the trip (free of charge) and I did so, this time I arranged it for an overnight so that we could backpack the Chelan Lakeshore Trail in May.

Needless to say, we did not suffer in the least by our change of plans. We happily lounged in the pool and visited the local wineries. We hiked up nearby Chelan Butte through the blossoming balsamroot and marveled at the lake and the Columbia River. We drove to Manson and visited more wineries, enjoying the intimate and friendly atmosphere. With the windows rolled down and wine bottles clinking in the trunk, we made our way back to Seattle. We smiled at each other, our pink noses kissed by the sun. We would be back soon.

We returned in late May, this time with our backpacks to hop on the ferry boat. It was the weekend before Memorial Day and I felt very clever as I told my husband that we were totally beating the crowds. I carefully inspected the fellow passengers, trying to determine how many trekkers we would be competing with for camping spots. As we pulled away from the dock I breathed a sigh of relief, I counted only three other groups that were possibly hiking the Lakeshore Trail as well. I was confident that we would outpace them.

After about a half hour the boat slowed as it came upon another dock. My husband and I looked at each other. Huh, must be another pick up spot… As we got closer my eyes grew wide in disbelief. There were at least 30 backpackers on the dock waiting to board. We looked at each other with our jaws dropped as the others packed themselves on the boat. As we scooted to make room I thought so much for having our pick of the campsites.

We waited our turn to debark the boat at the quaint landing at Prince Creek. Even with 30 of our fellow backpackers the place felt remote. As soon as we hit the trail the crowds dispersed and we hardly saw anyone on the whole trip. It’s a 17 mile hike to Stehekin from the drop off point and the trail rises and falls along the shore of the lake. We made our way through lupine and rock-hopped across numerous creek outlets: Rattlesnake, Pioneer, Cascade, Meadow, Fish, Hazard carving their way down the high mountains. We set up camp at the Moore Point campground and lounged on the shore. We built a fire and studied the map excited to continue on to Stehekin the next day.

Civilization began to reappear the following day as we skirted the backyards of cabins and spotted boats anchored offshore. We stopped at the ranger station to learn a bit of history as we moseyed to Stehekin. Sadly, everything was closed for the season including the Stehekin Pastry Company (they would open a week later on Memorial Day) and we didn’t get a chance to go into town since we had to catch the boat. We did manage to get some burgers and beers and ate outside overlooking the water and seaplanes. I sat and took in as much as possible as the boat approached, savoring every mountain peak in sight. Although I was a little disappointed we didn’t get to fully experience the town, I smiled to myself. Once again my lack of good planning turned into an excuse for another trip up Lake Chelan. We will be back soon.

Lake Chelan: The Greatest Lake in the World by John Fahey

Fahey, who spent a good portion of his life on Lake Chelan, goes on a mission to prove that his beloved lake is the greatest lake in the world. Each chapter alternates between his quest around the world, the natural and cultural history of Lake Chelan and his stories from living on the lake. The best part is that it’s laugh-out-loud hilarious. I was so sucked into this book that I stayed up very late one night to read it.

Hikes Featured in this Post:

Chelan Lakeshore Trail

Road Trip

Big Sur

April 16, 2015August 7, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

My oldest sister lives in Monterey, California and by about mid-March I feel a strong urge to escape the gray clouds and rain of Seattle and get some sunshine and sister time. This year my husband and I both made the trip and my sister and her boyfriend took us car camping in Big Sur. We arrived early on a Saturday morning, crammed our stuff into the already jam-packed SUV and stopped at Trader Joes to stock up on food. Now the vehicle is officially at max cargo capacity. I’m comfortably snuggled between old cook pots, paper towels, my backpack and Trader Joe’s wraps and honey wheat pretzels as we cross the Bixby Bridge and wind down the Pacific Coast Highway, one of the most beautiful highways on the planet.

We set up camp at Ventana nestled in the shadows of giant redwoods along a babbling brook. My jaw drops at the shear size of the tent that will be our home for two days. I’m even more blown away by my sister’s nylon palace that dwarfs her 6 foot tall boyfriend. I realize later that these tents are actually smaller than average based on the mega tents we see popping up in other spots. My husband blows up our queen size air mattress (!) that fits with room to spare in the tent while I check out the nicest outdoor bathrooms I’ve ever seen and with showers (!). We northerners are not used to such luxuries.

By now the clouds are burning off and it’s time to explore. We first head to McWay Falls, the classic overhead view of a majestic waterfall crashing onto the beach of a aqua blue cove. We then head across the street to the Ewoldsen Trail. The wooded trail follows a small creek up to an open meadow overlooking the ocean with orange and purple wildflowers. Some young spring breakers catch up to us and yell to each other, “we NEED to go down to that meadow!” They run down the spur trail and we watch as they take selfies in the flowers. Another girl passes us carrying a beautiful crown of fresh lupines. We continue along the trail now through a high stand of gnarled oak trees interspersed with the tops of redwoods and return to the creek, the coolness of the water refreshing us. That night the guys made us tri-tip steak with fresh salad and a fancy delicious red wine. Later we sipped cold beers, roasted marshmallows and ate at least three s’mores a piece.

The next morning it was raining and we slept in. Upon finally rolling out of the tent my sister had coffee and chocolate chip cookies waiting for us from the Big Sur Bakery. She made us a delicious egg scramble with sharp cheddar and avocado and then we hit the trail. The day’s goal was the Tin House, an abandoned house made of tin perched high up on the jagged mountains. The house was built in 1944 and was apparently abandoned after one night because the tin was too noisy. But like most of these kind of hikes, the journey was more exciting than the destination.

We climbed through a redwood forest recovering from a burn in 2008, the trail lined with sorrel, red columbine and starflower, plants I recognized from the northwest. Somehow we got on a wrong trail and climbed higher and higher through increasing brushy terrain to an old homestead. We couldn’t see the views since we were in a rain cloud, but I bet they were spectacular. We retraced our steps and found the main trail to the tin house. The collapsing and burnt structure is really an eye sore but it provided shelter while we ate our Big Sur Bakery chocolate chip cookies. Someone left a journal and a pencil for visitors to leave notes. We thumbed through, contributed some words and continued on the trail.

As we descended it began to rain again, the redwoods mysteriously standing guard in the fog seemingly protecting us. As we get farther down the rain let up and the sun began to poke out of the clouds. We turned a corner and the trees gave way to stunning views of the coast line.

To close the loop we crossed the highway and stopped to rest at a pull-off parking lot. As we nibbled on snacks a giant of a bird flew down toward us and soared right over our heads. I pointed out the clearly visible number on its wing as a nearby tourist told us it was a California condor. The condor went extinct in the wild in 1987 but have since been reintroduced and now over 200 live in California.

We stumbled back to the car after a long day of hiking. We showered and went out for a nice dinner at the Big Sur Roadhouse complete with champagne toasts. We skipped dessert though, we still had more s’mores to make over the campfire. They sure do know how to camp in California. I fear that our humble lightweight backpacking tent and sleeping pads will disappoint us on our next car camping trip. But when we grow too weary of our meager set-up we will return to the redwoods to be pampered once again.

More info about Big Sur:

Hiking in Big Sur

Hikes Featured in this Post:

McWay Falls, Julia Pfieffer Burns State Park

Ewoldsen Trail, Julia Pfieffer Burns State Park

Tanbark Trail & Tin House, Big Sur

Reading List

Reading List: Wolves

March 26, 2015November 21, 2019
by Ashley Gossens

The wolf was my favorite animal growing up. I was obsessed with them as a kid, and frankly as a teenager. I collected little wolf statues, had posters of wolves and begged my dad to make a donation to the Nature Conservancy so I could ‘adopt’ a wolf and get a stuffed animal. When my dad and I weren’t watching baseball or football we were watching nature shows. My favorites were always the ones about the far north: the taiga, the cold, the moose, bear and the wolf. Something about the wolves intrigued me. They are smart, opportunistic, loyal yet independent, and often misunderstood. This edition of camp reads includes some of my favorite books of all time. I hope they will become some of your favorites as well.

Wolves in the Land of Salmon by David Moskowitz

Moskowitz weaves his stories as a wildlife tracker with recent scientific studies to tell the fascinating story of the wolves of the Pacific Northwest. The book takes you on a tour of the current wolf packs in the NW and examines the historic populations in the Olympics and western Oregon. Moskowitz explores the intricate and sometimes contentious connections these wolves have now and had in the past with the local fauna and people. Published in 2013, this book has everything you want to know about the history and current state of wolves in the NW. You can follow Moskowitz’s travels on his blog.

A Wolf Called Romeo by Nick Jans

This is the remarkable true story of a wolf and it’s relationship with a community in Alaska. The residents of Juneau were at first startled to see a large black wolf frequenting their favorite recreational area. But over time this friendly wild animal began to interact with the nearby people and dogs, playfully following them as they cross country skied and cooperating with local photographers. Of course, a situation that involves interaction between people and wild animals cannot be without controversy. Nick Jans chronicles the life of Romeo as he observed it from his back yard and the reactions, good and bad, of the residents and authorities, bringing to light tough questions about conservation and living with predators.

Never Cry Wolf by Farley Mowat

This might be my favorite book of all time, or at least in my top five. All of the prolific Canadian author’s stories are a joy to read, but this is his best. He tells of his time in the Canadian Wildlife Service assigned to live out a summer in the frozen Arctic to study wolves and find out why they were killing so many caribou. For a long time wolves had been perceived as opportunistic hunters, killing weaker species for fun. But during his time in the wild, Mowat finds a different story completely and even comes to develop a deep affection for the wolf pack he is observing. This classic tale speaks to the true nature of man versus wild. A quote from the book sums it up well, “we have doomed the wolf not for what it is, but for what we deliberately and mistakenly perceive it to be — the mythological epitome of a savage, ruthless killer — which is, in reality, no more than the reflected image of ourself.”

The Call of the Wild & White Fang by Jack London

A list of books about wolves would not be complete without these two classics. Published in 1903 and 1906 respectively, London drew on his experience in the Yukon during the Klondike gold rush of the 1890’s to write these wildly popular books. The Call of the Wild tells the story of Buck, a domestic dog that was kidnapped from his loving home in California and taken to the Yukon to be a sled dog in harrowing and sometimes violent conditions. Conversely, White Fang, is about a wild wolf-dog that is found and brought up as a domesticated sled dog. Both of these books explore the relationships between man and nature, and demonstrates humanity’s tendencies toward violence and, contrarily, peace.

Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George

This was one of my very favorite books when I was a kid. It’s the story of a 13-year-old Yupik girl in Northern Alaska. She grew up hunting with her father and learning the ways of the land. But when her father disappears and she is shipped off to marry an unkind man, she decides to run away. She hunts small game and makes camp along the way, but when it becomes tougher to find food she befriends a pack of wolves. She finds a way to communicate her hunger with the wolves and they bring her food. Jean Craighead George wrote the book in 1972 after visiting Barrow, Alaska with her son. She went to the far north town as a journalist to visit scientists studying wolves. She saw the way the native people interacted and communicated with the animals and was intrigued. When they saw a curious young girl alone on the tundra, her son wondered aloud what the young girl was doing out there all alone, thus providing the basis of this wonderful story. George wrote two sequels to this book in the 1990’s. Those are Julie and Julie’s Wolf Pack.

Shadow Mountain by Renee Askins

This is the beautifully written memoir of a women who’s mission was to bring wolves back to the American wilderness. As part of her undergraduate research in the 1980’s Askins raised a wolf pup in captivity and named her Natasha. After creating a bond with this wolf and studying others in captive conditions she recognized their unhappiness with this lifestyle. She vowed to Natasha that she would bring wolves back to Yellowstone National Park and spent many long years of hard work fighting for her cause. She took on politicians, ranchers and endured death threats, disappointment and meager wages to create the Wolf Fund. This heartwarming story of persistence and dedication to these intriguing animals will certainly inspire you.

See Also: 3 Among the Wolves by Helen Thayer

Outdoor Life

Mount St Helens Climb

February 25, 2015August 7, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

I awoke at 4am to the hooting of an owl. I was snuggled in my sleeping bag in our tent at Climber’s Bivouac, a small campsite at the beginning of the Mount St Helens climbing route. The apprehension of the last few days gave way to excitement as I rose and put on my headlamp. From now on the mountain was in charge. I recalled the previous day’s walking through the underground lava tubes of the nearby Ape Caves and reading interpretive signs of the destruction that took place here, pondering the potential of a mountain that could create such things.

I was not yet born when the news broke on May 18, 1980 of a massive eruption in the Pacific Northwest. The volcano was displaying the realities of it’s name, Loowit, meaning “smoking” or “fire” mountain by the Klickitat people. A landslide triggered by the explosive blast sent two-thirds of a cubic mile of mountain top hurtling into the valleys below. A mushroom cloud of ash towered above as hot mud and debris flowed downward, taking with it the living things in its way. In all, 57 people were killed, 250 homes and almost 200 miles of highway were destroyed along with 230 square miles of forest and countless animals. On that day the summit dropped from 9677 feet to 8365 feet and it’s beautiful cone replaced with a mile wide crater.

As the sun began to rise my husband and I climbed above treeline. The forest we passed through was not only recovering but thriving in the thirty years since the blast, surprising scientists who expected this process to be very slow. But as we continued onto the rocky ridge, the moon-like appearance and ash on our boots reminded us that this is still a mighty volcano. The sun beat down on us from the cloudless August sky above and I imagine the unthinkable heat that formed the young rocks around me. We continue straight up the sandy ash, one step forward, two steps back, finally gaining the crater rim.

Standing at the top of the crater rim one cannot deny the fragility of life. Here we are, tiny vulnerable specks on this mass of a mountain. Yet this mighty dome has been weakened, it’s thousand foot top torn away in an instant. To stand on the crumbling rim looking out into the crater is to observe the incomprehensible power of this planet we call home. I am humbled while gazing upon the hardened mudflows of decades ago and the ghostly waterlogged carcasses of 500 year old trees still drifting like toothpicks in eerie Spirit Lake.

But ultimately this story is one of renewal and restoration. Mount St Helens is rejuvenating itself with fresh forest and wilderness, making room for new species of plants and animals to thrive and providing nutrients to the soil of the valleys that nurture our gardens and agriculture. In the decades to come this mountain ecosystem will become more lush and diverse than it was before. This same principle applies to life: change is essential. And it’s how we navigate these times in our lives that make us the people we are. Like the ever changing mountains we must be adaptable and resilient to change. We can choose to resist or we can embrace it and in the process allow ourselves to renew and grow into better people.

Find out more about Mount St Helens:

Climbing and Permit Information

Mount St Helens Institute

Mount St Helens VolcanoCam

National Geographic Gallery

In the Blast Zone edited by Charles Goodrich, Kathleen Dean Moore and Frederick J. Swanson

This post was very much inspired by this wonderful collection of essays and poems about Mt St Helens. In 2005, a group of scientists, writers and poets embarked on a 4-day trip to discuss, observe and ponder the changes happening to the mountain inspiring the writings collected here. I consider this essential reading for anyone considering visiting St Helens for the first time or those who have been visiting it for years.

Hikes Featured in this Post:

Monitor Ridge, Mt St Helens, WA

Ape Caves, Mt St Helens, WA

Outdoor Life

Backpacking Chugach: Part 2

February 11, 2015August 7, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

When we discovered our food stash had been raided by ground squirrels we panicked a little. But after taking inventory of our remaining stock we found we had enough meals to continue with no extras and little to snack on. We were thankful that we threw in some emergency ramen noodles when we packed. We spent our second night just below Ship Lake Pass relieved that we could continue.

The next day we wanted to climb a couple peaks before continuing on to the next camp. The Ramp and the Wedge rise above either side of Ship Lake Pass. We started with the Ramp, the higher of the two, and then traversed over to the Wedge like traveling from the horn to the cantle of a saddle. Ship Lake glittered below us like an aqua bike seat shaped jewel. Clouds clung to the tops of the high peaks around us saturating the vibrant green of the valley below.

Our destination for the day was Deep Lake in the next valley parallel to us. We could follow the trail back down the way we came and then climb up to a pass and up the Ball Park to Deep Lake or we could stay up high and traverse the scree around O’Malley Peak to meet up with the trail at the pass. We were hesitant to walk back down and then up another steep climb so we decided to off-road it in the alpine for a shortcut. Anyway, it didn’t look far to the pass.

Looks can be deceiving in Alaska. Things that look close are actually quite far, slopes that look gentle end up steep, rock that looks solid from afar can end up being unstable. I was cursing this land as I took two steps in the scree only to slide down three. Meanwhile the bottoms of my feet felt like they were being sheared off and my ankles ached from traveling perpendicular to a steeply sloped mountain for hours. We gingerly circumnavigated massive boulders in the scree. It was slow going to say the least. We didn’t get to the pass until early evening. I praised the joys of a level trail on my aching feet as we climbed the gradual trail through the Ball Park to Deep Lake. That night we longed for that extra food we lost to the squirrels. We made a list of all the food we could eat: pizza, burgers, snickers and faded to sleep.

On the fourth day we left our base camp at Deep Lake and took a day hike to the Walliwaw Lakes. We made our way to another pass and descended to Black Lake, a good description for this dark water lake. As we were walking down from the pass we saw some black dots moving above us. We took out the binoculars and watched two wolverines chasing each other in the snow.

Then we explored the Williwaw Lakes. The chain of picturesque lakes is nestled at the feet of colorful mountains. The lakes had a top layer of crystal clear water and below they were a pure blue. It was as if glacial silt had settled to the bottom of the lake and stayed undisturbed for millennia.

We returned for another night at Deep Lake (which should really be called lake in a deep, steep hole) and the next day returned to the busy trailhead. As we arrived some clean tourists were looking at something excitedly through the binoculars. A bear! they exclaimed. We laughed and exchanged knowing glances. We knew that the real threat out there was those darn ground squirrels. We got a ride back to town from a nice man and his young son and finally got the pizza we were craving at Moose’s Tooth.

It was quite an adventure for our first backpacking trip. We prepared the best we could- we studied the map, brought bear spray and extra food, but still there were issues unexpected. I don’t regret anything we did on this trip but rather remember it as creating an important foundation for life in the outdoors. I know I must take risks, make mistakes and learn in order to make myself a better person, both in outdoor endeavors and in life.

chugach_route — Our route in yellow (the dashed line is our approximate off-trail route), map from http://dnr.alaska.gov.

Chugach State Park: Alaska’s Backyard Wilderness by Bill Sherwonit with photos by Carl Battreall

If you have ever flown into the Anchorage International Airport then you’ve probably flown over Chugach State Park. Although these mountains dominate the skyline of the most populated city in Alaska, they are often overlooked by tourists. They are predominately visited by locals and few have witnessed the most remote parts of the park. This book shows off the beauties of this area over all four seasons, highlighting just some of the stunning scenery, plants, and wildlife in the park. I picked up this book in a tiny bookstore in Anchorage just after our backpack trip, it is now a treasured part of my book collection. Click on the title link above to see a slideshow of some of the photos in the book. You can also purchase a signed hardback version of the book on the website.

The great Alaskan photographer Carl Battreall is currently working on an ambitious project to document the entire Alaska Range for a large format photo book which has never been done before. You can see his photos and follow his story on his blog, The Alaska Range Project.

Hikes Featured in this Post:

Chugach State Park, AK

Outdoor Life

Backpacking Chugach: Part 1

February 6, 2015August 7, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

As the plane descended over the mountains I wondered what we got ourselves into. My forehead was glued to the window as I gazed out at the smooth emerald green mountains. They were so beautiful, but also rugged and desolate. I got butterflies in my stomach and a huge smile on my face. We were on our way to Anchorage for our first backpacking trip.

We planned for five days in the Chugach State Park just outside of Anchorage. We bought a brand spanking new tent, thankfully free of the suffocating wet dog smell of my husband’s hand me down tent of his youth. I suffered through a few car camps in the thing but I refused to spend a good portion of week in basically a leaky, smelly tarp, not to mention that it weighed approximately ten pounds.

So with our shiny new tent and lightweight gear we headed to REI to pick up fuel, bear spray and some dehydrated meals. We stopped next door at the Middle Way Cafe to get breakfast before hitting the trail. At that nondescript cafe nestled in a strip mall I had the best breakfast in my life: french toast with whipped blueberry butter and fresh blueberry compote. We were ready.

We took a shuttle van to the Glen Alps trailhead with other tourists looking to hike the popular Flattop Mountain. We waded through the people to find the Powerline Trail. We hoisted our packs and started our journey. The trail winds through low vegetation with a few stream crossings, gradually climbing up the valley. Not long into the hike some people told us there was a moose with her calf up ahead and to be careful. About ten minutes later I looked over and saw two brown humps poking out of the bushes. The moose looked up at me nonchalantly chewing leaves. I screamed and ran away, then returned to take a picture. Not exactly what you are supposed to do. Luckily the moose didn’t seem to mind.

We took a side trail to Hidden Lake and set up our first night’s camp. We blew up our sleeping pads for the first time (how luxurious!) and cooked our first dehydrated meals. We explored the rocky arm above the lake and wandered on the lichen rich scrub. We took in the alpine view and waited for a sunset that never came. We finally went to sleep in our cozy new outdoor habitat. It was comforting to know that the wildlife could not approach unseen and there was no darkness to be scared of.

On the second morning we packed up and headed to Ship Lake Pass. We set up camp before heading over the pass and down to Ship Lake so we wouldn’t have to carry our packs back up the pass. We decided not to keep the food in the tent but we were above treeline and there was nothing but rocks in all directions. We decided to bury the food under some rocks so a bear would not get to it and took off for the lake. We crested the top of the pass and were blown away, literally it was quite windy but the lake and the mountains towering behind it were breathtaking.

We wandered in the flowers around the lake for what seemed like hours. There were no trails here, it felt truly wild even though in reality we were not all that far from downtown Anchorage. We climbed back up to the pass and to our campsite. As we approached we saw that our things were disturbed. There was no sign of the much dreaded bear, but rather the tiny chew holes of the ground squirrel.

They chewed through our towel, our large collapsable water jug and chewed tiny holes through my backpack. Luckily the damage was minimal. Then we remembered the food we buried in the rocks nearby. We rushed over to see if they breached our cache and sure enough they did. We were horrified to find the remains of our tastiest meals and our big bag of gorp. We took inventory of what was left. Would there be enough to continue or would we have to turn back, cutting short our first backpack trip ever? Stay tuned for Part 2!