Looking for a View at Mount Rainier
Summits #21, 22 & 23--August 11, 2023
My most productive and enjoyable day yet! And on the doorstep of Mount Rainier to boot! (Or if you prefer, Tahoma, the “snow-covered mountain.”)
Our home in Bellingham is just far enough away from the epic hikes at Washington’s premier volcano (and first national park) that, unlike our friends in Seattle, few Bellinghampsters go there just for a day. To see much of anything, which is to say, soak in a bit of her majesty, one needs two or more days to travel there, enjoy a good hike and drive back. At least.
So I did the bare minimum. I rose early, made the drive, hiked my socks off, then car-camped nearby. My destination: Spray Park. I chose Friday to hopefully avoid some of the inevitable weekend crowds. Ha-ha. Little did I know.
In years past, I’ve day-hiked out of Paradise and Sunrise a few times, trekked up the Carbon River, dabbled around some of the falls, and in 1995, climbed to the summit—after a prior failed attempt on the Kautz Glacier, having been chased off the mountain by a severe August thunderstorm (a frightening event I’ll have to write about later).
Among the slew of Rainierian (Tahoman?) places I hadn’t been, until now, was the extensive wildflower meadows of Spray Park on the northwest flank of the mountain. I’d seen a photo of the place decades ago, and the image remained tucked like a bookmark inside my brain.
Ideally, one goes there when the wildflowers are doing their thing, typically late July-early August. Reports from hikers suggested this year’s bloom was perhaps more subtle than usual, and my timing was probably off by a week or two. But not to worry. With a sunny summer forecast, it’s hard to go wrong anywhere on the mountain.
With my main mission being mountain tops this year, I browsed the map for summit possibilities snuggled close to the volcano and approachable from Spray Park. Eight possibilities emerged and all promised fabulous views. I settled on a loop that would take in three of them, with options for one or two more, depending on timing, stamina, whims of the moment, weather, etc.
Spray Park is most easily approached from Mowich Lake, at the end of a long, washboardy road. I’ll spare you the twenty-seven paragraphs of bumpity-bumpities it would take to describe the actual drive to the lake. I arrived later in the morning than expected, finding an overflowing parking lot with probably a hundred more cars lined along the road shoulder. So much for my weekday crowd-avoidance scheme.
Most folks seemed to be heading up to Tolmie Peak Lookout, a popular, moderate hike, so I scratched that one off the list for now and instead followed the signs to Spray Park. En route, a short side path led me to Spray Falls. Awesome.
After a handful of steepish switchbacks in the woods, the trail popped out kind of abruptly into meadowland, with a postcard view of the mountain dead-ahead. Wowzer.
High above were two inviting points of rock that were among the original eight on my list, Echo Rock and Observation Rock. Both were within reach and conditions were excellent. But I was alone and given the hour, there was a fair chance I could be the last one up there for the day. Should something go wrong at 8,000 feet, it would not be a happy place to spend a long and lonely, cold night. My indefatigable self said to go for it. The other voice, said, Dude, you’re 70. Do it another time. With a friend.
At the junction of a climbers’ path leading up to a ridge north of the meadows, I paused to take another look at Observation Rock. So tempting. Above me were two relatively easy summits, nearly guaranteed to join my list of 70. Could I do all three? I’m way behind on my quest, a half year into it, with only 20 summits under my belt. So two more would be a quick ten-percent bump. If I can find my way over to Knapsack Pass, a third peak more accessible than Ob. Rock might be doable as well. All Class 2 or 2+. This more realistic three-bagger for a day sounded pretty appealing. So up to the ridge we go.
A group of three were bounding down the trail, all smiles, having already scurried up both peaks, Hessong Rock (6,385 feet) and Mount Pleasant (6,440 feet). I topped the ridge and took a water break, as two other women, perhaps in the 40 to 60 demographic, returned from a scramble up Hessong. One knew the area quite well and assured me that I’d have no problem finding Knapsack Pass. We wished each other good hiking, and I would not see another soul the rest of the day.
The boot path to Hessong dipped down below a boulder field, then climbed among heather and small trees before angling steeply upward to the rocky summit. From the top I could look east along the ridge to my next objective, Mount Pleasant, which was apparently just a stroll to its rocky top. I gazed over at Tahoma and Ob. Rock a while, and scanned the meadows below for bears, seeing none.
So, 21 down, 49 to go! Somehow, 49 sounded way better than 50. I retraced my steps and continued on, arriving atop Mount Pleasant, summit #22, less than an hour later.
From there, a boot path descends eastward a few hundred feet to the intermittent path that would take me to Knapsack. Among the barren rocky areas, I unexpectedly stumbled across a bit of magenta paintbrush. I’d read once that this quite showy wildflower was more limited to the Olympic Mountains. Then I learned the magenta variety is also in the Cascades, though generally from Mount Rainer southward. To the north, my usual stomping ground, the deeper red variety dominates.
I clambered on through the boulders and cobble with no obvious path. You just work it out and eventually you get there, right? I seemed to have chosen a good line, and in under an hour, I was at the pass, ankles intact. I had plenty of time to scurry up my third summit, interestingly called First Mother Mountain (6,483 feet). The name, I’ve read, is reflected in a profile on the ridge.
The peak rises above nearby crags like a blade, though small trees on its west face hint at the reasonableness of a scramble. The slightly circuitous route offered minor exposure and a fun finish that made it feel like you’d accomplished something. First Mom, summit #23, was easily the most enjoyable of my three-bagger for the day.
Back at the pass, I looked over at Fay Peak to the southwest, tempted to add a fourth summit. But that would be greedy and would keep me ever-hustling to make it back to the truck before dark. I still felt strong and wished I’d started an hour or two earlier, which would have made Fay a more relaxing finish to a great day. Instead, I pulled out the food bag and Gatorade, recharged the batteries, and headed down at a civilized pace.
With the day dominated by fantastic views of Mount Rainier, it got me thinking about maybe going for the big circuit next year, the 93-mile Wonderland Trail that loops around the mountain. The park controls the number of people doing the hike through both a lottery and campsite reservation system, so it doesn’t have to feel crowded. I’d have to plan the trek well in advance, although doing the loop in multiple shorter trips, might not be a bad idea.
In any event, our massive, backyard stratovolcano is the highest in the U.S. outside of Alaska. I should know the mountain and her secrets better than I do. So, I hereby resolve to not let a few hours’ drive or the fear of crowds deter me from more worthy rambles down the road, washboardy or otherwise.
As for Observation Rock? Just as the Terminator promised, “I’ll be back!”
