[jimmymac]

(A link to the coloring book version of this TR appears at the bottom.) I found out Thursday night that I’d be able hike Friday. I got on line, got out a map, and started working my way up the Middle Fork Snoqualmie. The south peak of Bessemer sounded like what I was after: short drive, uncomplicated, unpopulated, and best viewed in winter. I headed for the Bessemer / CCC Road-Trail Trailhead. What I found looked a lot more like an active commercial road than a road-trail. That, and the locked gate, and some unfriendly signage may explain the sparse visitation. I have enough imagination to see these things and still think, “Looks like a trailhead to me.” There’re no hard core KEEP OUT signs, just don’t expect to see a kiosk. The road was in great shape, with no apparent damage from the wet winter. There were a few junky trees blown down, but that was about it. The road ascends pretty gently for the first mile and a half. As suggested by another hiker, riding a trail bike in to the 1.5-mile mark would make good use of some great road, and would make quick work of some boring scenery. A bike could be brought all the way up to the snowline, but beyond the mile-and-a-half mark, the grade gets unfriendly for bikes. The road becomes a marvel of efficiency. It’s never all that steep for hiking, but nor does it “run” very much without “rising” at the same time. I had nuisance snow off and on until 2,500 feet. After that, it was continuous but not yet deep enough to require snowshoes. At about 2,600 feet, I came across a fallen tree that was the perfect bench for putting on snowshoes. In this case, I did follow the advice I had read in a past TR, and put on my snowshoes a little prematurely. Going uphill, even a little improvement in flotation does seem to make a big difference. Snow rapidly smoothed the road into insignificance. The corridor was wide enough to offer lots of sunlight and steadily improving views. But with the ditches and culverts out of sight, the road’s industrial nature was nowhere to be found. The continuous snow proved to be hard on wildlife privacy. Tracks were all over the place. Big tracks, little tracks, older tracks and fresh tracks. I got a kick out of the way the cougar would periodically cross from the inside of the road to the outside edge, and then head right back. Paw prints were about half again as big as my snow baskets. Fresh elk prints and elk-loosed dirt and rocks were apparent. I followed the old boy’s path, half wondering if I would see him before the cat. Above 3,900 feet, the tree cover started to lighten and the snow pack got heavier. The combination created the appearance of open travel, with less indication of any corridor. I gave up on following the road above 4,400 feet and just followed the SE ridge to the summit ridge. The map suggests that the main road traverses a steep slope on the left (southwest face) of this approach ridge. A secondary service road contours the ridge's right side. Neither were visible; neither were of any use. The ridge that projects to the SE from the summit ridge is broad, and sprinkled with sub alpine firs. Getting from the crown of the SE ridge up onto the summit ridge takes a little high stepping. Snowshoes and poles worked for me. Some might prefer kicking steps and having an ice ax for this short segment. The profile of the summit cone looked like its stability would really depend on the snow being solid. The sun-exposed slopes I had been walking seemed to be on the slushy side. Probably in an act of over cautiousness, I decided to not mount the pinnacle. Like Avis, us solo hikers have to try harder (to stay out of trouble.) Thanks to a sun-drenched Lazyboy, I stayed much longer on top than I should have. At least I remembered to use my sunscreen this time. The sun and quiet was a welcomed change. I liked not having to pretend that the I-90 roar was a river. Here, the background sound from below really was stream flow. The views weren't bad either. I wasn’t crazy about getting down the slope immediately to my east, should it re-freeze on me. That got me off my can. As it turned out, plunging down to the top of the SE ridge meant heeling through a two-inch crust that had already set up in the shade. With all my languishing and a new pair of sox, the trip back down was like a brand new afternoon hike. I arrived at the car pretty refreshed and happy that it survived being parked along the much-maligned Middlefork. I saw no one on this hike and no sign of recent human presence. On my way out, I noticed a fresh bike track up as far as the CCC road and then back out. To whoever you are, thanks for just leaving my piece of equipment on the road where I dropped it. Captioned Pictures

[Bryan K]

Thanks for the great TR. What was your total hiking time, car - car?

[Yana]

Nice photos, jimmymac. I was just across the valley from you around that time, looking up at that south facing slope and wishing I'd chosen something sunnier to hike.

[jimmymac]

[jimmymac]