Wallace Falls State Park

This is a true gem of a park. It can be hiked in all four seasons. It offers hikes for all ages and abilities, from short, level strolls along the river to long, switchback filled trails leading to mountain lakes. It's a short drive from the teaming hordes of Pugetopolis, but can offer solitude for those willing to go the extra mile. It is even accessible by Community Transit bus (Route 270 and 271).
We did a 13 mile loop trip along the Wallace River to the lower, middle and upper falls, then up to the ridge line below Mount Stickney to Wallace Lake and Jay Lake, returning down the North Fork Wallace River via the Greg Ball trail.
The beauty of Wallace Falls state Park is that there is no one set itinerary. Feel free to mix and match to suit your abilities and needs. The DNR roads make for great winter snowshoe access to Wallace Lake. For summer time fishing, head to the lake via the Greg Ball trail. For solitude, explore Jay Lake or even bushwhack your way to Shaw Lake. The only constraints are time (sorry, day hikes only) and your imagination.
I can't say enough about the infrastructure here. The trails are full of benches, bridges and stairs. The staff does a great job of keeping the trails free of blowdowns and making sure the trail is in good repair year round. If you see a trail crew, be sure to say thanks. Many are volunteers working for the Washington Trails Association; along with your thanks, donations of money and/or labor are gladly accepted. There are even a couple nice segments built by kids as Eagle Scout projects.
Wallace Falls also needs people to watch over it to keep it safe from the budget axe. The fate of the park is currently in question, with some short sighted and cowardly legislators plotting to close Wallace Falls to save $181,000 in annual operating costs, or a savings of about 32 cents for each Snohomish County resident. Mothballing the park would allow the trails to deteriorate, encourage vandalism and make it that much harder for families to get kids out into the woods. Surely keeping this park open is worth the price of 1/6th of a cup of coffee per capita per year. If you're reading this and the legislature's still in session, write, email, call and howl until Wallace Falls State Park is off the chopping block!

Blanchard Mountain

Blanchard Mountain is the only mountain in the Cascade range that actually touches salt water, rising over 2000' from Samish Bay on Puget Sound. Located in Northwest Washington along Chuckanut drive, Blanchard contains several hikes that can be done seperately or as part of a loop trail. Today we did the Oyster Dome/Lily Lake/Samish Overlook loop, in my humble opinion the best way to see the mountain.
We started on the west side at the Pacific Northwest Trail (PNT) trailhead. The trail begins an immediate and relentless march up for the next mile and a half. At 1000' elevation there's a small bench and your first clear view out over the San Juan Islands. This is a good place to have a drink of water (you should have worked up a good sweat by now) and a handful of trail mix, but don't get too complacent, you're only half way to the Dome. Keep going up (and up and up...) until you see the sign for the Talus Trail. Follow this short detour to the Bat Caves, which aren't caves at all but large boulders that create a talus slope at the base of the Dome's 400' cliff. Take a moment to admire the view; you'll be looking down from there in a few minutes. Try to stay out of the caves, to protect the bats from you and protect you from the boulders, which are unstable and dangerous.
Go back to the main trail and head up the main trail to Oyster Dome. You'll eventually emerge on to a gently sloping rock dome with stunning views of the San Juan's and the Olympic Mountains, as well as the Samish and Skagit delta's. Don't expect solitude here. This is a very popular hike, and on the first sunny, warm Sunday of spring we shared our lunch break with 40 to 50 others.
Solitude isn't impossible to find here, however. We left the Dome by way of the Lily Lake trail. We passed two people and saw the bootprints of 4 or 5 more, but by the time we got to Lily Lake just a mile from the crowded Dome, we were completely alone at a pretty, frozen, snowy mountain lake, where we took an uninterupted 45 minute pause. There are some nice campsites here, and also another mile away at Lizard Lake, a smaller, less visited spot that's just far enough off the main track to make it peaceful and, after sunset, probably a private campsite.
From Lily Lake, we headed for Samish Overlook via the PNT (the trail we started on and at the end of which our truck - we hope - is waitnig to take us home). Samish Overlook is accessible by car, and is a popular launching spot for hang gliders and parasailers...or is it parasailors? In any case, you can see folks lined up to take the plunge, and may even see eagles joining in the fun, looking for the same thermals as their nylon winged counterpats. This was a fun place to people watch too. We match a woman dressed for a cocktail lounge but snapping photos of raptors, a man in a bizzare 1980's sedan fitted with strange multple antennae trying to talking to hamm radio operators from Sverdlovsk to Auckland, a very Federico Fellini/Northern Exposure assortment. This is another nice place to take a break and take it all in.
From here the walk back was an easy 2 mile down hill stroll. The whole loop was about 9 miles, with almost all of the elevation on the first 1/3 up to the Oyster Dome. We hiked the whole thing between 9:30 am and 4:30 pm, although the trail could easily be done in 4 hours by the ambitious and impatient. But at a beautiful hike like this who wants to hurry?

Artist Point on Koma Kulshan (Mt. Baker)

The Artists Point trail on Mount Baker is a beautiful, fairly easy snowshoe hike to nice views of the North Cascades. The trip starts in the ski area at 4000'. Follow the west edge of the ski area uphill, and after 500' elevation gain you'll see a "Backcountry Warning" sign, which means you've reached Austin Pass. Read & heed the sign, because you are crossing into North Cascades wilderness in winter, and the weather can change suddenly and drastically here. Our first attempt (below) was abandoned when we ran into a major winter storm.
This day, however, the weather was with us, partly sunny with high clouds, an increasing chance of snow by evening. At Austin Pass, we followed the tracks of about 40 other snowshoers and numerous backcountry skiers. Yes, this is wilderness, but don't expext solitude on this popular hike. If you do find it empty during ski season, there's probably a reason. Be sure to inquire locally about avalanche conditions. We followed a couple long switchbacks, sticking to the edge of the tree line to minimize avalanche danger.
The view was lovely from the top at artists point, although increasing and lowering clouds obscured views of Baker and Mount Shuksan. After about an hour and a half, we noticed we were the only ones still up there (uh oh) and the clouds lowered, it started snowing and visibility went down to about 300 feet (oh no!). This illustrates why following snowshoe prints may get you somewhere, but won't always get you back. A map, compass and knowledge to use them are essential. A gps helps too, especially when visability is reduced. Ours had a tracking feature, a black line that traces your route. Just don't deviate as you head back and you'll end up where you started.
This is a great trail even for winter novices like us (only our 3rr snowshoe), as long as you do your homework and respect the mountain. In summer, it's also a great access route to Ptarmigan Ridge at the edge of Kulshan's glaciers, a hike I hope to post here later this summer.

Know Your Limits!

We had set out to snowshoe to Artists Point on Koma Kulshan (Mount Baker) on a rainy February day, hoping to climb above snow level, and ended up getting more than we bargained for. It was snowing lightly when we got to the ski area parking lot, the trailhead for our hike, so we strapped on the 'shoes and headed out. Within 1/2 hour the weather had changed dramatically. Visibility dropped to 1/2 mile, then 1/4 mile and finally to 1/10 mile. The wind rose and blew the snow almost horizontally, making it hard to see 100' ahead.
We didn't have a topo map, hoping to follow the tracks of other snowshoers and relying on a GPS tracker to retrace our steps if need be. What we didn't count on was that there would be snowshoers going in many directions, or that the wind and snow would quickly obliterate their tracks and ours. Well, this was only our second snowshoe hike, and we obviously have much to learn.
After gaining a few hundred feet in elevation we encountered a sign with ominous warnings like "rescue may not be possible" and "your heirs may be fined $500". My heirs? That got my attention. So did the experienced skier who warned us that avalanche danger was increasing as the day wore on and oh, by the way, the trail we were looking for was on the next ridge over. We decided that discretion is the better part of valor and made a gradual retreat back to the truck.
If the weather was sunny our hike would have been just fine, and we plan to go back (with a topo map next time), but good judgement is as important as good gear in the backcountry, and forging ahead would have been a potentially fatal mistake. If you're unsure whether you can safely procede, don't. There's always another day. Besides, being too goal oriented is linear thinking at its worst. The journey is the destination, and we had a lovely if brief stroll through a winter storm at 5000' in the North Cascades, got a chance to test our winter gear under severe conditions (we stayed warm and dry) and got some nice pictures.

Mallardy Road

When I go hiking, I want to get away from roads, park the car at the trailhead and get out on my own two feet. So why am I writing about a road?
First, because Mallardy Road is beautiful, and second, because flood damage has made the road impassable to cars after 1.2 miles, it is a defacto trail. During summer you'll find very few cars on the road, since they can no longer reach the Mallardy Ridge trailhead 7 miles from the Stillaguamish River. It's an easy walk that is lined with salmonberries through second growth timber, passing a quiet pond and crossing Mallardy Creek at the start (its confluence with the South Fork Stilly) and 2 1/2 miles later on a bridge slated for repair in the fall of 2009.
During winter it takes on a whole new character. Cars can go no farther than the Mountain Loop highway, and if you procede on skis or snowshoes you soon enter a realm of peace and quiet, the only sounds are those of birds and the gentle murmur of the creek. Forest Service roads, dusty and noisy in summer, become still and wonderous in winter. The wide lanes and gentle grades make for excellent snowshoe trails, and their are so many miles of them that solitude is almost guaranteed, except in those places where snowmobiles and their infernal combustion engines shatter the peace so that fat, lazy people can sit on their asses while leaving a trail of smoke and decibels in their wake.
The hike up Mallardy Road is only limited by the time and energy you want to commit. For a short day hike, the bridge over the creek is a good turn around point. If you want to stay for a day or two, you can hike the 7 miles to the trailhead and then go for another 7 to 10 miles to the ridge itself, although you can expect to have to negotiate numerous blowdowns along the trail, which hasn't seen maintenance for a couple years. The payoff for all that work is the expectation of a solitude more complete than almost any other trail in Western washington.

Lime Kiln Trail

The Lime Kiln Trail is half of the Robe Canyon Historic Park (the other half is the Robe Canyon Trail, described below). The trail follows the route of the old Everett & Monte Cristo Railway, starting about 2 miles from Granite Falls just off Waite Mill Road, an easy to find trailhead thanks to good signage.
A quarter mile from the parking area you enter private forest land for 3/4 mile until reaching Hubbard lake and the park proper. There's good trout fishing here, but you have to bushwhack your way to the lake to find a spot to wet your line. The trail soon begins its descent, a mere 200' elevation loss, first following the lake's outfall creek, then turning to follow the South Fork Stillaguamish River at the same point you pick up the old E&MCR route at around 1 1/2 miles. Along the way pass historic markers, saw blades, pots, pans and old stoves (please do not remove artifacts) until you reach the lime kiln a mile later, covered in moss and ferns and rising from the forest like an ancient Mayan ruin. You can still see remnants of the last load of lime in the ovens.
So far you will have been parallel to but up above the river, but over the last mile you gradually descend to the river's edge. The boulder filled river has a sandy bank here, so enjoy a picnic lunch, watch the water dippers skim the rapids in search of bugs, or just enjoy the peaceful sound of the river before the easy hike back.
One caveat, which applies to any hike: check road/trail conditions before you go. On this February hike we found the trail to have a few fallen trees to crawl under/over, and the ground had slumped in a few places, but with minimal effort these obsticles were overcome. The bottom line is safety; if an unexpected change of terrain exceeds your comfort level, err on the side of caution. There's always another hike.

Robe Canyon Trail

When the backers of the Everett & Monte Cristo Railway wanted to attract East coast investors to finance their mining and logging railroad, they described the South Fork Stillaguamish river as "a pleasant little trout stream", which it is during the late summer. But from mid fall through late spring, rain and snowmelt combine to turn the river into a raging torrent that rearranges the landscape every year. The railway was difficult to build, and very costly to repair after the annual floods wiped out tracks, trestles and tunnels.

The railway eventually failed, as did the mining town of Monte Cristo, but it managed to hang on through WWII as a light rail line taking people to the resort at Big Four as well as fishermen to various spots along the river; fishing, hiking and camping are still popular in this valley, but are now accessed by road that is (mostly) removed from natures wrath. A hike on this trail will show you the power of the river and the futility of trying to build permanent infrastructure on ever changing terrain.

A 15 minute east of Granite Falls on the Mountain Loop Highway, the trail begins with a 200' drop to the site of the former town of Robe (the town still exists, but was relocated uphill and 2 miles east; be sure to stop at the Mountain View Inn for great home cooked meals and big-as-your-head burgers). The trail then joins the river for a little over a mile, passing through tunnels 5 and 6, where the hillside has washed out. The other tunnels have collapsed and the trail doesn't extend to them, although they are part of the Robe Canyon Historical Park, which includes the Lime Kiln Trail, which is reached by another road from Granite Falls on the river's south side.

The rail bed is still evident. In some places you can still see wooden ties that were embedded in concrete that was used to stabilize some sections of trail. In other spots, the hillside has given way and you have to scramble over boulders and glacial till to proceed. Full disclosure: signs have been put in place by very sensible people warning that the trail is closed at the first landslide, and only foolhardy scofflaws will proceed at their own risk, so before you go tell your next of kin not to bother suing the county. You were warned.

The safest time to see the trail is in the summer, when the weather is dry and the soil isn't saturated. The coolest time to see it is on a wet, stormy day when the river is raging, giving context to the ravaged railway.