The Mist Trail (Nevada Falls, Vernal Falls) - Yosemite National Park, CA

If you only have one day in Yosemite, I'd spend it on the Mist Trail. To find the trailhead, get a good map and follow it until you see this amazing sign.

The hike from Curry Village up to Nevada Falls is part of the legendary Mist Trail. A lot of people have died on this trail. If you want to read more on that, you can check out the book, Off the Wall: Death in Yosemite. In terms of lives claimed, it's the deadliest single day hike in the United States. That doesn't mean it's reckless to hike this trail. Rarely do folks buy the farm because of treachery on the trail. The hike itself is no more dangerous than most other trails. Almost every death occurs  as a result of bad judgment off the trail--swimming in the river above the falls, taking pictures on ledges, slipping on slimy rocks above the falls, after ignoring danger signs, etc. Just don't do anything stupid, and you'll be fine on this hike. Don't let your wife talk you out of it.

There are several variations of this loop. I describe a commonly-used loop version, climbing in on the Mist Trail until you reach the top of Nevada Falls and descending on the John Muir Trail until it rejoins the Mist. Although the top of Nevada Falls is a destination in itself, you will be sharing this trail with Half Domers, some of whom start long before dawn using the Mist Trail as the first segment of their ambitious plan to bag Half Dome as a one-day, out-and-back event. Other Half Domers break their experience into a two, even three day event by hiking in past Nevada Falls, over-nighting in Little Yosemite Valley back-country camp site.

The Mist trail is a very popular trail with diverse users. The lower part of the trail is quite scenic with water features and is easily accessible from the Curry Village parking lot, which means it will likely be inundated with seven-year-old girls running around in sandals, seven-year-old boys throwing rocks at each other, and Asians with over-sized cameras traveling in large packs. Like most hikes, the more you climb the Mist Trail, the more it thins out. This rule does not apply to Half Dome. The queue on that single-file ascent can be longer than the line to the ladies's restroom at a Bon Jovi concert. I'm not guiding you up Half Dome, only to Nevada Falls. You can find tons of other resources about Half Dome, but it won't be as funny as my guide.

Vernal Falls will look very different depending upon what season you view it. The photo here, was taken in October, and you see one thread of water.

More too come about Nevada Falls

Olympic National Park - Shi Shi Beach

I've slept on a beach twice. In 1983, me and some Navy buddies drove out to Ocean City, Maryland on Fourth of July weekend. After discovering every bed in town was accounted for at 7 p.m. on Friday night, we decided we'd just head to the bars, pick up some girls, and crash with them. At 3 a.m.,  having not spoken to any girls all night, we stumbled out of a bar, across the boardwalk and flopped on the sand. After one of us puked, we staggered twenty yards away, took off our shirts and shoes, and used them as pillows and hunkered down. Tip: New Balance shoes make for suck-ass pillows. Around dawn, a cop jabbed his nightstick into my back. The camping trip was abruptly over.

Having overcome my fear of speaking to them years before, I now prefer to take women as hiking partners. They tend to accept being to bossed around and are easier to impress using the skills I learned from Man vs. Wild. Plus, if we're attacked by a wild animal, I can generally outrun my girl hiking partners, which gives me some piece of mind in the backcountry. So I got that going for me...which is nice.  Twenty-five years after Ocean City Beach, I tried camping on the Pacific Ocean with another buddy. We were in Seattle for our friend's wedding. The groom had plans for the honeymoon that didn't involve us, so we took off for the Olympic Peninsula with a backpack full of tiny corn on the cobs, celery with cream cheese, crackers, and other wedding h'dorves.

The Shi Shi beach trail, in in the Olympic National Park in Washington, is short and easy. You'll stroll about 2 miles through a rain forest to get from the trailhead to the beach. Ferns will brush your legs. Waterlogged treefall and moss surround you.  Moss hangs from old growth evergreens like a scene from a scary movie. Unless it's July or August, most likely it will be overcast, dreary, moist, cool. You won't see much sky anyway, the tree-cover is thick. You might come across toads or salamanders, and maybe some dear.



The trail descends toward it's end before the forest opens up abruptly and gives way to the beach. You see sand, ocean, and billions and billions of tree trunks turned driftwood. You'll have to log hop or Wallenda your way through the maze of logs to get to the breakwater.







Before you do anything, pause to consider you are further west than anyone else in the US except for a handful of American Indians a few miles up the coast. After pondering the enormity of that, find a place to pitch your tent. Here's a tip: when you pitch your tent, remember tides come in and can turn your tent into boat.  It's hard to swim inside a tent, especially when it's dark. Remember all those logs you walked across to get to your campsite? They weren't carried there by lumberjacks. The ocean moved them and it can move you while you sleep. So, if you see a bunch of tents lined up one-hundred meters from the water, don't be a wise-ass and setup fifty meters closer than them, unless you wanna end up further west than the Indians.

As you pitch the tent, send your girl out to convert driftwood into use-able sized pieces of firewood. Give her your overpriced, inadequate, multitool with its 2-inch saw blade and see what she comes back with. When you're relaxing on a log, sipping some rum you packed in, with the tent already setup, she'll probably come back with a couple twigs saying your tool is too short to do the job. Don't take it personally.

To get your firewood, show her how to snap branches off tree trunks by jumping off logs onto the branches. Then watch as she tries.

Or, come prepared with a really cool human-powered chain saw

Having pitched your Sierra designs tent and collected firewood, take off your hiking boots and don some water shoes and explore the beach.
















Enjoy the smoke-stacked cliffs and














the sea creatures which look like vaginas glued to rocks.

Go back to the tent, build a fire, cook up some food, and sip on that rum.











If you have an harmonica, do your fellow hikers a favor--keep it in your backpack. There's nothing more annoying than bad harmonica on a hiking trip. If you're with another dude instead of a girl, try not to think about how gay it is for two guys to camp together on a cold romantic beach, and bring a warm Mountain Hardware sleeping bag to head off any hypothermia-induced spooning.

And to mitigate the gay factor to the extent possible, under no circumstances, take photos together...

Crowds can be bad in the summer. I hear during high season weekends, tents are twenty meters apart. We went on a Sunday night in June and saw one other tent a hundred meters away. The highlight of this trip is beach combing.

See ya on the trail...

Indian Peaks Colorado - Isabelle Glacier

Where: Indian Peaks Colorado. About two hours from Denver. Head for the Brainard Lake Recreation area. There aren't many services near here. There's a grocery store in Nederland about a half hour from the trailhead.

On your map, you'll see a town close to the trailhead, Ward. It's not really a town. It's a dirt road to a post office, which passes a bunch of dilapidated trailers.  "Your car don't run no more?" No problem, push it up against your camper, line up the doors, get some plywood and duck tape and you've just added a bedroom to your house. Ward looks like a junkyard. It's collection of Ford Pintos, Dodge Darts, and Kingswood Estate Station Wagons (the one with the brown wood-grain panel on the side) far outnumber  the 165 residents, most of whom don't seem to mind not having access to any stores which carry shirts, shoes, or toothbrushes.  Subject of many Internet rumors, if you read it's a free-sex commune, don't get your hopes up--I can assure you there's nothing worth dragging out of the one bar in this town. The residents, well...I guess they can be summed up with one word--Deliverance. Visit Ward with your windows up and in a reliable vehicle. You don't wanna break down in this place. Take pictures when people aren't looking. Then blow outta there and head for Brainard Lake.

The Hike: Parking at Brainard Lake is horrible, but at least it's better than leaving your car in Ward and returning to find a small family living in it. During high season, get there at daybreak or expect to walk a mile or two on the street to the Long Lake Trailhead. There's a little Warden shack at the trailhead. Pass it on the right as you step onto one of the most scenic trails you'll ever hike.

The trail starts flat and easy as you skirt along the shore of Long Lake sometimes under cover of sub-alpine conifers. Even is the trail is busy, there's secluded ponds and small meadows off to the right just a few paces. After you leave the Long Lake area, the views open up and you understand you are in a valley. Niwot Ridge is to your left. The ridge on the right tops out at Pawnee Peak. There will be a trail sign that takes you over Pawnee pass. If you take that option, read someone else's blog, because you will be looking down on all the stuff I write about, instead of being in it. You'll walk over several creeks, see meadows of rainbow-colored wildflowers (July), and gain some decent elevation as you head toward a classic alpine lake--Lake Isabelle.

Snow melt

Creek below Lake Isabelle

Before you get to the lake, if the season is right, you may be treated to some small waterfalls or raging creeks passing under snowbridges.

Snowbridge

Snow melt just below Lake Isabelle

You're just below the treeline here. Perch yourself on a boulder on the shoreline and have a picnic lunch (or at least a Power Bar) while you admire the jagged peaks all around you.

Lake Isabelle - Caught Nothing

Most casual day-hikers turn around here. Unless you're already sinking in snow, or your girlfriend is in panic mode about the possibility of encountering afternoon hail and lightning storms the wardens and the park literature warns you about, keep going.

Past Lake Isabelle, even in deep summer, you may benefit from mountaineering equipment as you cross hard snowpack, fields of boulders and possibly muddy trails. We used our trekking poles, crampons and ice-axes. Although we were passed by an older couple whose equipment consisted of walking sticks. The climbing is not technical though it can become so if you fall on the snow pack and need to self-arrest. If there's snowpack, it can obscure the trail as you climb, but the valley is so narrow, I never worried about getting lost.

As you get close to your turnaround point, Isabelle glacier, keep an eye open for marmots as they scurry around on and under the rocks.

Yeah - He's cute

 The boulder hopping seems to last forever, but it doesn't.

Boulder field

If your girlfriend starts nagging while in the endless boulder field, keep telling her it's only a half mile more. If you're not there in a half mile, when she asks how much further, cut the distance in half. "A quarter mile".
She may protest. "It seems like we've already walked half a mile."
Don't admit your mistake. You're the man, she's the woman, she will defer to you on matters of distance, but only if you sound confident. Try this: "No Babe, we've only walked a quarter mile."
Ten minutes later, when you're still not there, tell her it's an eighth of a mile.
Ten minutes later, tell her, "it's just over that ridge."

You may have to hop boulders over creeks. You may hear a rushing river under all the rocks you are walking on.Keep going, you're almost there, you only have a quarter mile to go. How do you know when you're there? The view.

You're There

I'm there

You'll come over a ridge, and a glacier will be hanging in front of your face. Below Isabelle glacier, icebergs will be floating in a small pond. Ice and snow will be all around you. The wind will blow like you're in San Francisco. There will be chill in the air, even in August. There will be no more trail. You are there. Enjoy some time taking pictures of your girlfriend in front of icebergs, tell her how beautiful the pictures will be, shove a granola bar in her mouth and hike back the way you came.

We got caught in a hail and lightning storm on the hike back. We huddled against a boulder pulled a rainfly over our heads and waited five minutes for the sky to turn blue.

This is a long day hike. I like it because it's a nice climb, without endless switchbacks. Hit the trail early to maximize picture taking and most importantly to get back below the treeline by 2ish when the storms tend to hit. And don't spend the night in Ward.

North Cascades - The Best Campsite Ever

How to find it: North Cascades National Park, Washington. You want the East Bank Trail.

Find Ross lake on a Map of the North Cascades. See the southeastern-most tip of the lake? A good map will identify this section of Ross Lake as "Ruby Arm." There's a trail head on the tip of the Ruby Arm. You access the trail from the park's main east-west road, Highway 20. If you have a trail map, you will notice the Panther Creek Trail comes up from the south and T-bones the East Bank Trail and State Highway 20. This is where you wanna start your hike.

What's so special about it? 
The campsite. 

The hike: As hikes go, it's nice, but not spectacular. From the trail-head, you drop down immediately to a footbridge that crosses Ruby Creek. Then you spend the next couple of hours, about 3.5 miles, climbing the well maintained trail, along the north bank of Ruby Creek. The grade is gradual, but persistent, more strenuous than you might expect from a creek-side trail. You will often be separated from the water (in spring and early summer it's more like a river,) by a thick wall of Pines and Aspen and a hundred foot drop off. For much of the trail, you may hear water, but not see it. You will pass over several creeks. On my early July hike, they provided ample water sources. The thick forest obscures the hiker's view of the mountains, but don't despair, your patience and your climb will payoff. Your view will be at the campsite. Hit the trail at least four hours before dark; you'll want to savor the view for a couple of hours, and might luck into a nice sunset over Ross Lake.

After 3.4 miles, you'll hit trail junctions. There should be a a sign with arrows on it, unless black bears have used it as a scratching post since my visit in 2008. There's 3 choices. You have a chance to climb Jack Mountain Trail by turning to your right. It's 4.5 miles to the end of that trail, 4.5 miles back, and the space between the lines on my topo map are barely discernible. If you're hardcore, do it the next day when you break the camp I'm about to tell you about.

You also have the chance to hike due north to Roland Creek. I don't know what's up that way, but the map indicates it'll be four more miles of hiking up Hidden Hand Pass before you get to hug Ross Lake. Again, do it the next day if so inclined (get it? inclined?) But you want to get to Ross Lake now. Why wait? You could have a heart attack during the next 4 miles if you choose one of the other options. Go my way, and take a chance of falling off a cliff instead. It's a much better way to go.

You'll bear left at these junctions, toward a designated campsite, Hidden Hand. It sucks, don't stop there. Keep going a little further. Hidden Hand camp is like going to Vegas and staying in your hotel room. What's the point? Walk a few city blocks further on the frequently-traveled extension of the marked trail. If your girlfriend is nagging you about how you're gonna get her lost, just like the time you ended up in South Central that night after the Lakers game, explain to her that this is different. You have a big-ass mountain on your right, and a big-ass lake on you left. Short of jumping into the lake or accidentally climbing a mountain, there's no way to get lost. Provided you don't step out of your tent and off a cliff at one of the non-designated campsites you'll soon encounter, you'll easily find your way back to the marked trail the next day.

As you approach the cliffs overlooking Ross Lake, don't be to eager to sink your tent stakes into a sweet spot. Keep climbing and cliff hoping until you reach your dream spot. You can perch your tent on a cliff, 60 feet above Ross Lake, unless you see a blue Sierra Designs tent already there and a good looking man with a blue backpack. In which case, say hi, over me a spot of tea, then piss off. If you need water, or want to try and catch minnows with your hand, there's several relatively easy routes to scramble down to the Lake.

Caution: Seriously, pay very close attention to your footing. Your feet can be on perfectly solid ground one moment. Take one step backward, and you'll do a gainer and smash your head open on the rocks below and ruin your partner's hike. Do not mess around on the cliffs after nightfall. Watch every step you take at this camp. Wear a headlamp. If you get up to whizz in the middle of the night, don't forget you don't have your usual room to crawl out of your tent. If you're not sure you can handle all this, camp away from the cliffs.  I put my tent literally 3 feet from the edge of a cliff. But that's me. You don't have to be me, although it's pretty good to be...