Pilchuck 3, Charles 0

Been awhile since I posted. To be blatantly honest I've been too ashamed of myself to share that I have so completely fallen off the "get my body healthy" wagon.

anyway...

I attempted Mt. Pilchuck today. Third time I have attempted it. Third time I have not made it to the top.

It's not like it is *that* difficult of a hike. In the past the people I was with were newbies to hiking and it was too much of a challenge for them.

Today it was raining. doG damn was it raining. My shell (outdoorsperson for rainjacket) wasn't water proof. It lost its ability to repel water when I washed it, and so far I haven't been successful making it waterproof again. Probably time to get a new shell... though I might attempt to waterproof it one more time.

That isn't what stopped us. There were three of us. Although I was soaked all the way through I knew I was fine so long as I didn't stop moving. Good hiking clothing is warm enough when wet, so long as you keep your temperature up.

Let me start over...
Mt. Pilchuck is a 2.5 miles and 2.5k foot hike. Short, simple, and on a clear day absofreakinlutely gorgeous.
I bought some returned poles at REI and one of them wasn't working right (thus why it was returned obviously). The first half mile of the hike I wasn't even aware of the trail as I was dinking with the pole until I was finally able to fix it.
Once the distraction of my poles was gone, it was immediately obvious that by allowing the other two people to set the pace, I was moving too fast and wearing myself out. When I am hiking I measure how my legs feel with every step. If they are getting more tired I slow down that step, if they are restoring themselves faster than getting tired I speed up. Going uphill, I can slow down to the point where I am taking babysteps. The other two hikers were in better shape than I was in, and they were being patient with me and waiting here and there for me to catch up.

The footing started getting tricky. One of the two other hikers was having enough trouble with footing that even though she was in better shape than I am, the advantage immediately turned in my favor -- I could go my same slow pace reguardless of snow or tricky rocks or slippery wood. Makes sense, I've been hiking my whole life, I hope I know how to choose my footing.

Then we hit the snow fields - not only did the footing get trickier, but my endorphins *finally* kicked in. We're talking an hour+ for my endorphins to kick in. So now not only did I have the footing advantage, but I was able to go at least as fast as the other two, and was able to book up the mountain.

...I sure wish it didn't take so long for my endorphins to kick in, I felt pathetic and then suddenly I felt like a rock star...

We hit the open area and I saw this gorgous miniature waterfall which sprung off a rock jutting out of the landscape -- a waterfall you'd never see if it weren't for the melting snow and the relentless rain. By time I had gone 20 yards to delight in the miniature waterfall, it was already apparent to me that we... I was leading... that I had lost the trail. If I had been somewhere I wasn't familiar with I would have doubled back, but since I was confident that there was more trail straight up, I headed straight up. I don't like walking on alpine growth, it can take it decades to get as abundant as it is, so I did my best to stick to snow or walking up on the rocks.

Pilchuck has a lot of rocks.

I was truly enjoying the abolute misery of the weather.

Stopping wasn't an option for me, but I wasn't too worried. Worst case survival scenario (assuming I didn't break a leg) is I'd have to march in place overnight and I am confident I could do that no problem to maintain body temperature.

By time I found the trail again and let the others know it was here, we were at the low end of a beautiful snow field. I was concerned this was a recipe for worse yet to come and was considering calling the hike off right then and there, but after talking to some guys coming down they said the snowfield was the worst part of the hike. Two of us urged the third to make it to the top of the snowfield where we stopped to take a break.

All three of us were comfortable in our safety, but only two of us wanted to continue the hike. Apparently not everyone finds the drama of the rain and discomfort as a beautiful thing and she really had no desire to keep going.

Since we were in the kind of situation where all three of us would have to want to continue, I didn't argue and immediately announce that this 5 minute break was all the standing still I could handle - I was already getting very cold - I had to start down the mountain immediately and I would see them at the car.

Stella was soaking wet, and wasn't looking uncomfortable so much as dejected. Stella hates being rained on, who knew?

The only thing noteworthy on the way down was noticing that my feet had been the only part of my body which was bone dry... until I started down. once I started down my feet got sopping wet too. No blisters, but another 2-3 miles and they would have gotten pretty funky in those conditions.

The rain finally cleared up... Half way through the drive home.


I really enjoyed the hike. Always good to have gear failure on a day where the risk is low.
For next time:
- Fix shell problem
- Get gators (they prevent water from running down your legs into your boots)

Curses! I'll get you Pilchuck! Some day! ;)
Charles