[Quark]

A few blowdowns, one has to be navigated around – it’s one of those huge dead snags, barkless and slimey, too tall to hitch over, and flat on the trail. Nice trailwork being done up there in the spots that need it. Most of the trail is in excellent condition. We met a gentleman coming down, and we recognized each other; we had done trail work on Lake 22 a few times, years ago. Then later, near the lake, we ran into 2 men; after chatting a few minutes, one asked me, “Hey, were you on Lost Creek Ridge this summer?” Turns out he was the man Foist and I met up there. It’s a small, wonderful world! The cutoff to Monogram is even steeper than the steep trail. But we entered the meadows, and oy, vay! What a beautiful place. Given the numbers of casings and pods of the flowers now dead, it must be quite spectacular in spring. A couple of weeks ago, the fall colors must have been brilliant. In it’s recline for sleep in winter, it is beautiful still. My friend Bob is like me – we’re both easily pleased, and were equally blown away by the beauty of late fall; death and decay is beautiful in the plant world. Queens cup leaves turn opaque; pods curl and crackle in the breeze. Grasses are now black, brown, yellow, and some are still clinging to the green of summer. We were already quite late in heading down, and Bob waffled about setting up his tripod for a particular photo. Knock yourself out, I said. I think you should take that photo. So we agreed to make sure we’d spend only 15 minutes taking photos. Well now, that’s like asking a child to guard the candy dish. 45 minutes later, we realized it was 5:30 and fairly dark, with 4 miles to go. It was now dusk, and we had a few miles to hike down. Of course, I tweaked my knee and hobbled in the dark the last 2 miles using a headlamp with very weak batteries. Of course my head was full of Sasquatch after last weekends’ Squatch hunt on Downey Creek. Bob was ahead of me, and I was the last one on the mountain. No one was around for miles and miles. That’s a pretty spooky feeling, if you want to know the truth. I got down to the trailhead about 5 minutes after Bob. He asked if I had heard a funny sound up there. I said, “well, about 5 or 6 switchbacks up, I thought I heard you call my name,” but stopped to listen and I didn’t hear anymore.” He said that when he was 5 or 6 switchbacks up, he heard what sounded like a human trying to make an animal noise, a few feet off the trail. I suggested it was an owl. He said he didn’t think it was an owl, and of course all talk then turned to the Squatch. We figured that what would happen is that the Squatch will come roaring after us, and we’ll leap into the truck and lock the doors. I’ll drop the keys, of course, and fumble around a bit. Of course the motor won’t crank, even though it’s in perfect condition and I’ve never had a problem with that truck. rrrrrrrr, rrrrrrr, wirrrrrrrrr…., the alternator would say. In the meantime, the Squatches arm will burst through the back window which we of course left open. Bob will slam the window on the Squatches arm as the truck engine suddenly fires up, and I’ll spin a donut in the middle of the road to turn around and continue snaking down the road, trying to shake the Squatch off the truck. We laughed about how in the movies people joke about stuff like that right before it really happens. We then decided it was time to leave. I got in the drivers side, and I’ll be damned I didn’t drop my keys in the road right before I slammed the door shut. I looked at Bob, and Bob looked at me. How silly, we said to each other. Yeah, heh, don’t that beat all? Heh. Heh. "Hey, Bob, honey, won’t you please get my keys for me? Pretty please?" "Well, that won’t do any good, sugar-pop, for how will I recognize your keys, having never seen them before?" Well, he had me there. It’s true I never showed him what my keys look like. So out I went. I don’t mind saying I got a little hinky when I got out of the truck to look for the keys. My butt tingled while I was out there. It really did. Interestingly enough, I forgot to take pictures of the lake. I’ll go back for sure. Little Devil, et all look like fun little scrambles.

Yellow tree and mossy rock

Sun streams

Trail, mossy boulder, pistol-butt tree

Stump, salal, some other stuff

Stab of light

Rock landing on vegetation2

Leaf and drop

Diamond plant

A hiker on trail

[Solo Steve]

Nice TR! That spidey sense/butt tingle sure is getting a work out this month! I really like the water beads in the diamond plant shot.

[Slugman]

For some reason I've never considered doing this hike, and wasn't sure where it was, even generally. The search function on Topozone cleared that up, and then I remembered why this one isn't on my list: 4,500 VF R/T elevation gain. Maybe someday, as part of a three-day BP including Lookout mtn. The 4,500 ft may explain the "butt tingle".

[Dayhike Mike]

What a neat trail and beautiful pics, Quark...that misty lighting makes it look simply magical. Thanks for the TR!

[Quark]

Thanks for the comments everyone. What’s cool about the Boulder Landing on Top of the Vegetation photo is that it looks like a space ship downdraft splayed out the fern and grasses around it. But what really happened was that the snow tamped the vegetation down and flattened it, and then melted away. The boulder is quite large, about the size of a washing machine, but the photo doesn’t show that, which is disappointing.

[GeoTom]

Next time bring a washing machine with you for scale in your photographs.

[More Cowbell]

Sounds like a perfect Halloween Hike. Did you see this report? Maybe his clomping beast was your Sasquatch?

[Dayhike Mike]

[Quark]

[Rich Baldwin]

Beautiful photos, as usual, Quark!

[trailjunky]

Very nice Quark.

[fishonjoe]

Quark, Did you run into any snow at the lake? Was it froze over a bit? See any fish rising? I've been wanting to do that one for a while. Thanks for the report, nice pics! fishonjoe

[Quark]

fishonjoe, there was snow beginning at about 4700ish, and it was constant at about 4900. Twasn't deep, just slick and mooshy. Didn't hang at the lake, so didn't notice any phishies. We wanted to stay high and catch any rays of sun that might dart out at us (nope). It was cold as as well-digger's ass. Bob has Reynolds Wrap disease, or whatever, in his hands and feet, and is affected by the cold more than anyone else I know with the disease; and for the first time in a long time, I was not comfy temperature-wise.

[More Cowbell]