Tinkering with Tinkham Peak
Summit 37 of 70--September 30, 2023
With a nice, late-summer forecast in the offing, I tinkered with my supercharged, ersatz peakfinder to locate a somewhat less arduous objective than the last, with the idea that maybe Kris and Dave (her hiker dad) might want to join me. My imaginary device landed on Tinkham Peak near Snoqualmie Pass. The three-mile approach followed a section of the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) that we hadn’t hiked before. Reports suggested it was plenty scenic and not too steep. The team agreed to give it a go with an 8:00 am departure.
The drive to Windy Pass south of I-90 took us by the Mt. Catherine Trail, the easy hike to a good view that I’d done in mid-August as a sicko. (I tested positive for Covid later that day. Happily, it passed quickly.) Wind-wise, Windy Pass was calm as ever, but the lumpy trailhead area was jammed with dozens of cars and trucks.
So I’m looking at the chaos and thinking, why in the world can’t our federal land managers figure this out? Grade the parking area, drop in a vault toilet and fix the road. Agencies under-staffed? Under-funded? Do we blame the pandemic? Congress? The president? Sun spots?
As someone who’s been exploring our public lands for decades, there is no doubt that across the state we’ve seen mass deterioration of these kinds of facilities in recent years. Not everywhere, but in far too many places. So I wonder... I’ll have to dig into this issue sometime, since I’m supposed to know this stuff as a bonafide, certified, albeit mystified trail planner.
In any event, after jockeying for a parking spot, we slung our packs into hike mode and were on our way. The PCT skirted a logged-off area then quickly entered an older forest, with low clouds dragging their underbellies through the trees. The chilly, misty morning gradually melted away with increasing sunshine, and we were removing layers within the first mile.
The trail passed through open areas of talus, tarns, and meadow, with bright fall colors ablaze in the sunlight. Our main destination was Mirror Lake. However, I was also planning to scurry up Abiel Tinkham’s peak, which rises about 1,200 feet above the lake. Who was that guy anyway? I’d look him up later.
North and south of the peak there were apparently boot trails leading steeply to the summit ridge, with the likelihood of a bit of exposed scrambling on the northwest side. I opted to head up that way and down the other, leaving Kris and Dave to enjoy the last mile to the lake on the PCT. I promised we’d meet up there in about an hour and a half.
The boot path I followed is more often used by those climbing nearby Silver Peak. But I’d been up there already with my trail buddy, Bud, many years ago. And the Rule of 70 Summits is they all have to be new to me. So I hung a left at the ridge and clawed my way up through the last trees to the summit rocks.
At first glance, I frowned and, being alone, nearly turned around. The rocky face seemed slabby and downsloping, and probably damp in places. Not great for boots gripping on rock. But I then spotted a narrow ledge cutting across the worst of it, and sure enough, it went through and connected perfectly with easier ground above. Within minutes, I was basking atop the higher northwest summit of Tinkham Peak, at a hair below 5,400 feet.
Later, I would find that in 1916, at the suggestion of The Mountaineers, the peak was named for Abiel Tinkham, an 1850s railroad surveyor. His own tinkering around Snoqualmie Pass included a January 1854 snowshoe through the pass on orders from territorial governor Isaac Stevens to find a way through. Thus he and a few Hudson Bay Company trappers before him likely would have been among the first non-native pilgrims to visit the area. I’m guessing he probably didn’t scramble up those summit rocks on snowshoes.
The view was spectacular as I easily made my way to the southeast summit about ten minutes later. The peak’s north face is a near-vertical wall over 500 feet high, so the view down to Mirror Lake was kinda airy, to use a little technical climber-speak. I could just make out a few tiny figures along the lake shore, but couldn’t quite zero in on Kris and Dave, though they should have been there by that point.
Having completed my tinkering with Tinkham Peak, my 37th, I scurried down the southeast side and found the father-daughter pair at the lake relaxing in the sun, content to leave the peakbagging nonsense to me. I thought it was pretty great that they could enjoy the moment while I was off doing my thing.
The hike out was just as fun as the hike in, and all agreed it was an excellent way to spend one of the last warm days of summer—even if it’s already fall.
