[Seracer]

I will preface this report with a disclaimer. It's long and written for my personal use to help me remember this trip in future years. Read at your own peril . In 2007, my daughter Catrina and I attempted a traverse of the Boundary Trail from Irongate to Ross Lake. For various reasons, including poor pre-hike training, we were forced to turn back. This last Saturday, July 11, we were back at Irongate determined to finish. As it turned out, vendetta’s die hard. Day One, Saturday July 11, 12 miles My brother Randy and his wife Lee gave us a ride to the trailhead. They elected to stay the night in Horseshoe Basin since they were there as well. The drive up was uneventful, with us stopping at the Omak Wallyworld for a couple of items we forgot. I decided to pickup an extra bottle of insect repellant, a move that would prove prophetic as the entire bottle would be empty along with the others we had packed by the end of the trip. Passing through Loomis we also discovered that the cafe-tavern we had found refuge in two years ago was gone having burned to the ground. Soon enough we were unpacking at the trailhead and moving north through the burn towards Sunny Pass. The hike to Horseshoe Basin was quick and easy as we all seemed to be running on pure adrenaline. The flowers were out in force and bugs did not seem bad at all under perfect skies. The area was just as I remembered from 2007. By early afternoon we were at Louden Lake and parting ways with Randy and Lee. We would not see another person for two days.

Pushing hard, Catrina and I passed both our campsites east of Teapot Dome from the previous trip. We finally elected to stop at the campsite we had seen the trail crew staying at last time, what I recall being called Teapot Camp on a map. As we stopped and setup camp, the mosquitos found us. Hordes of them followed us everywhere. We put on our raingear and headnets (what would become known as our NBC suits), had dinner and retreated to our respective bug-free sleeping areas. I was hanging in my Byer Moskito hammock, Catrina was using my Silshelter with netting. Day Two, Sunday July 12, 13 miles We are awakened by the bugs. They are buzzing like tiny chainsaws all around our netting. We dress quickly in our NBC’s and have breakfast, stripping out of them even more quickly to move on down the trail after breaking camp. We leave the headnets on for a bit until most of the hordes are gone. All the familiar sights pass by from 2007 including the plow along the trail at the west side of Sheelite Pass. A thunderstorm passes by us just prior to Tungsten and my umbrella does good service. The bugs are barely phased by the rain. We stop for tea and lunch in Tungsten at the small cabin, not even bothering to enter the bunkhouse this time through. Been there, done that. Apex Pass passes by and we are in the Cathedral Creek valley, looking once again at Cathedral Peak. We push on, beginning finally to feel our heavy packs. I did not weigh mine but feel it is in the high 30’s. Nine days worth of food is not light. Our Gusts are most comfortable in the low 30’s and below and mine is definitely not comfortable right now. We stop often to eat and drink and give our shoulders a rest. It seems to work and we know it will improve as we go along. Our mantra becomes “just keep walking” (I watched “Finding Nemo” with the grandson prior to the trip), to which we add “and eating”. Cathedral Pass falls once again to us, this time as just part of another day and not the furthest point west, and we are pulling into upper Cathedral Lake for the night.

That night, a thunderstorm pounds our camp. We listen to it coming, rumbling from far to the south, counting the seconds between flash and boom. Quickly it rolls over us. Amphitheater Mtn. to the south acts like a sound reflector and seems to amplify (hmm..coincidental name?) the thunder. An almost simultaneous flash/boom signals a near strike and my hammock seems to jiggle with the impact. The rain drops in torrents on my tarp but we have chosen our site well. A slight high spot in the trees so the runoff is not pooling and we can just enjoy the show. Slowly the flashes separate from the booms and the storm moves off. We are left in relative quiet, the rain gone as well and nothing but the dripping from the trees left. Catrina says “wow” and I laugh in agreement. We both drop off to sleep in the warm knowledge that we have survived to hike another day. Day Three, July 13, 9 miles Daylight brings fog this morning. The storm has left residue in the air and we are hiking into upper Cathedral Basin in low clouds. I am initially disappointed by the lack of views in this promising area, but the misty swirling fog adds to the impression that we are hiking in Scotland. Rocky tundra is nearby along the trail, which quickly fades into the white clouds in the distance. A scattering of ponds and lakelettes hints of brutal bug hatcheries in better weather, so maybe it’s not so bad being cold and windy today. Still, I would like to see more. Our heavy packs are causing some small blistering on our toes today also. We stop often to apply duct tape and allow them to rest. We both wear Keen’s which have been absolutely perfect in past hikes, including a 60 mile PCT trip a few years ago. Perhaps it is the extra weight on our backs. We pull into Spanish Camp and find the locked USFS cabin among the meadows. Partaking of the open porch, we have lunch. A group of elderly men shows up with day packs, their overnight gear coming in by horse. As I lift my pack once again I wonder if they are on to something. The trail is well marked here with fresh signs identifying the “Boundary Trail” and we follow blindly the well worn path. Suddenly, I am uneasy. I was looking forward to, and perhaps dreading some, the climb to and traverse of Bald Mountain my maps show. We are northeast of Bald Mountain by my GPS, well off the map route. We backtrack to the spot my map shows the trail going, and there is nothing. Apparently there has been a reroute. I can only guess that the higher Bald Mountain route, while scenic, may have been deemed too dangerous, or perhaps not suitable for horses. Whatever the reason, the trail now sweeps north then northwest across the northerly end of the ridge of Bald Mtn. and then drops into the Ashnola River. We stop on the ridge for a few minutes to drink in the views of what could have been. The meadows are quintessential Pasayten. Huge and filled with grass and flowers. It would have been an amazing traverse on the old route, for sure.

The drop into the Ashnola River has also been rerouted. Instead of the direct route, it is now a typical PCT switchback hell. I flashback to Deep Lake, Waptus Lake and all the others as we plod endlessly down in long switchbacks. Isn’t there a middle ground here somewhere? After what seems an additional mile or two on the hillside, we make the shelter on the Ashnola. It’s in pretty good shape and we considered staying in it for the night, but there is a nice stand of timber nearby with deep duff and my hammock is calling. So we forgo the shelter experience and crash near the river for our third night. Here the bugs are also very tolerable, almost not there. Day Four, July 14, 14 miles We cross the single log with a wire hand cable in the cool of the morning to begin the climb to the Sheep Mountain meadows and Barker Brown cabin. The grade is quite delightful, actually, a nice mixture of semi-steep sections with “stairstep” rest spots. Perhaps it is because we are fresh, or maybe going up rather than coming down, but I find it a marked improvement over the Ashnola drop. In short order we cross the precipitous bridge over the unnamed creek between Timber Wolf and Martina. Not much later it seems we emerge into the first Sheep Mtn. meadow. Here again, the Pasayten meadow experience shows itself in all it’s glory. Flowers everywhere and off in the distance are the peaks we have glimpsed from other spots, including ones we have passed by including Cathedral and Bald. The trail meanders through expansive grassy areas. The remains of Barker Brown cabin, now just the bottom two or three logs, lay mid meadow just below us. A nice stream cuts through one of the meadows and we fill our bottles there, looking up at the split summit of Sheep Mountain. A lone rock pillar not unlike a miniature Easter Island man sits at one point just off the trail with it’s own little patch of decorative shrubs and flowers, almost like a monument. Soon we are leaving the meadows behind and passing through Peeve Pass, a timbered “drop to” pass. Here too the bugs return. We negotiate several unmarked trail intersections (keep your map and GPS handy on this trail!) and emerge out on the south flank of Quartz Mountain to begin a wonderful traverse in the open. We follow trail and even some cairns through the low heather and grass with trees just below us to the south. Parts of a burn area that will come to haunt us the next day are just below the trail. The massive peaks of the Pasayten stretch to the south and east and as we round a corner the fantastic spires of the North Cascades rise like ghosts to the west in the late afternoon sun. The trail starts to drop at the north off the grassy ridge and into the burn area of the Bunker Hill fire. The bugs return and we work through the ash and downed trees to the unburned flank of Bunker Hill as clouds form to the east of us. The exposed top of Bunker Hill and it’s slopes is not the place for us in a thunderstorm.

It’s a hard push to the summit. Luckily no thunder chases us. The trail follows an exposed ridgeline to the top where the old lookout stood. Only the four post supports are still there. Just north of the summit is a small basin with water that becomes our camp for the night. It is mosquito hell again. As the day ends it goes cooler, the bugs retire and a there is a gorgeous red sunset. The stars are endless. Day Five, July 15, 12 miles Looking at the map the night before, we anticipated this day being a bit of a rest day. A somewhat stern decent off Bunker Hill followed by a few miles down the Pasayten River trail to Soda Creek. It would turn out to be one of the toughest hiking days of my life, and would set the tone for the next few days. We dropped off Bunker Hill into the burn again. Ash and black trees snags were our world. No water, no shade. We pass a group of two adults and 5 teenage boys struggling up the slope. One adult has perhaps the largest pack I have ever seen on. He is fighting to stay on his feet as we talk, supported by two trekking poles that quiver with effort. Suddenly my pack feels light as a feather. We drop on trail that is slowly disappearing under our feet. The sides are falling away and it is gone in many areas. We cross Bunker Hill Creek at the bottom and struggle around a corner to the south to see burned snags as far as the eye can see. The bridge over East Fork is gone so we cross on a burned log. More shadeless burn brings us to the Pasayten River and the remains of the burned bridge abutments. There is no option but to ford the river. We find a relatively shallow spot and cross without mishap. On the west bank there is no trace of the trail in the sea of grasses and brush. We search for a while then decide to just head south and watch for signs of the path. The next five miles become a struggle for survival. The usual route finding aids like cut logs and exposed cut bank are not applicable here. Most of the trees that have fallen have edges that look like cut edges, and the ground is mostly grey ash so exposed earth has little difference in color. There are stretches of grass that show signs of a pathway. We try and follow what we can for several hours, but the way is blocked by so many fallen trees that we cannot cross all them and stay close to what we think is the way. Some of the trees are stacked 3 deep. Some of the trunks are 3 feet in diameter. We hear the crash of a snag falling somewhere and look nervously at the ones still standing nearby. At one point we are two logs in the air and the burned bark peels away under my feet. I take a nasty fall on the log and run a branch stab through my shirt, just missing my arm by an inch. It is madness and an accident of potentially fatal consequences seems likely. What if one of us does get hurt? How far is it to help? The sun beats down mercilessly and the bugs are relentless. We elect to abandon the trail area and try following the riverbank which looks fairly open at this point. After two forced and difficult fords of the Pasayten River we return to the pathway. The mountain gods finally take pity on us and allow us to travel south through relatively open country. We don’t even try and find the trail anymore, just keep moving south by the path of least resistance. I am exhausted and worried for Catrina. I am angry at myself for not checking conditions on this route. I am astounded that this trail is still open. Still, here we are and there is really no choice but to continue. Near Harrison Creek we see a moose, the bright point of the day so far.

We reach Soda Creek to find green trees and are happy to be alive. It’s truly amazing what you can do if you have no choice. We set up camp in the small trees on the north edge of the old Forest Service runway. I had visions of wandering down to look at the old airstrip and cabin, but all I want is to sleep. We do our best to wash off the ash and memories of the day and collapse into our bags. It has taken us 12 hours to get here from Bunker Hill. The last 5 miles have taken the bulk of the time, perhaps 8 hours. Day Six, July 16, 11 miles The Soda Creek trail is not maintained either. But it is a world better than the Pasayten River. We cross downed logs still, but they are less dangerous. Dead Lake is not as desolate as the name implies and we enjoy a reprieve from the unmaintained trails. The bugs are ferocious on most of the trail, but not here. More deadfall and bugs finds us on Chuchuwanteen Creek and another welcome rest. We clean up a bit more and eat in the coolness of the forest here. The bugs also give us a respite, much like at the Ashnola. Again, I had wanted to look at the Chuchuwanteen cabin nearby but just don’t have the energy. The tree crossings and off trail detours are beginning to take their toll.

Frosty Creek is more of the same. Deadfall and bugs with little view. We both have meltdowns of different sorts here. Catrina suddenly goes quiet and starts crying that she doesn’t want to do this anymore. I get explosively angry and beat on an offending snag that grabbed my pack as I crossed yet another log. By the end of the trip, we estimate rather unscientifically that we cross several hundred logs. We finally break into the open at the upper end of Frosty Creek. A steady but manageable climb to Frosty Pass gives us views of Blizzard Peak to the south and it’s striated rock. We surprise a small bear as we move through a high circe near the pass. He looks as us for a second or two then bounds away. At the top, we try and relax in the grassy pass area, but the bugs, once again, are insane. There is little choice but to press on to Castle Pass, camp and possible escape. The decent is, once again, an endless rerouted switchback from hades and we stagger into Castle Pass and the PCT in early evening. Three southbound PCT’ers have taken the best camping spots so we settle for a corner nearby. I am forced to go to ground for the first time on the trip. We eat cereal for dinner as we are too tired to do anything else and the bugs are once again bad here. Day Seven, July 17, 11 miles The PCT’ers leave early and are not that quiet doing it. We sleep a bit longer knowing that this promises to be our toughest day yet. We have a 1000 foot climb to the ridge above Castle Creek, a 1000 foot drop to Big Face Creek, and another 1000 foot climb to Freezeout Ridge. All that on bodies that have hit so many walls each day I feel like a crash test dummy. The day dawns clear and dewy with, of course, bugs. A nice buck with velvet horns watches us pack from nearby. Water is nearby on our route and we load up for the probable dry ridgewalking we have for the next few miles. The climb up is not bad, but the ridgewalking proves exhausting. While the views are stunning, the trail is maddening as it goes over every single high point on the ridge. This makes a grand sightseeing route, but takes a devastating toll on our worn down bodies. The face of Joker Mountain and Freezeout Mountain almost make up for the work, however. By the time we make the decent into Big Face Creek we have hit the wall again and are done. Here again, we stop for a good rest and to eat and drink, and once again we revive. Our plan is to push ahead to perhaps the base of the final climb to Freezeout Ridge and camp for the night. We just feel too exhausted and even discuss a bailout on the PCT to Canada. As we come into view of the climb, however, smoke from a forest fire over the ridge to the south makes the decision for us. We are in heavy timber and cannot tell yet where the fire is or where it is going. It seems safer to climb out of the trees and be in the open above timberline. We even have fantasies about a helicopter evacuation!

The climb is difficult and hot in the midday heat. There is no water on the route and we are down to 2 quarts between us by the top. Freezeout Ridge makes it worthwhile even so. Elbow Basin is a green oasis with a small pond and the ridge itself is a wide open vista of grass. We consider dropping into the basin, but the thought of dropping and climbing back up is too much. We push on around the ridge in hopes of finding a spring or another water source. The views are fabulous. Freezeout Lake glistens far below. As the day progresses, we begin the “big drop” into Three Fools Creek and decide to stop for the night. The only flat area is the trail, so we find a spot with a good view of the forest fire and watch it flare up in the darkness. With less than two quarts we split a big dinner and drink up one quart, saving most of the second for breakfast and the 2400 foot drop tomorrow. Day Eight, July 18, 16 miles The morning sun wake us early on our east facing mountainside. Across the valley the fire smolders. Not much else to do but drop into the valley below. We need to make Ross Lake today or miss our 3pm pickup at the East Bank trailhead tomorrow. It’s about 24 miles to the trailhead, but making 12 miles in the conditions we have seen have taken most all of the day. One mile an hour has been typical. The trail down is not much different than the trail up had been. We lose the trail at one point on the hillside in a massive downfall area and cannot find the other end after our forced detour. Just cutting down the hillside to cross the trail is not an option as the switchbacks are quite tight and we could easily miss it. On this steep mountainside it is not worth the chance. We backtrack and carefully follow it through the downed timber and brush. I lose my cool again and assault a fallen tree in frustration. Catrina brings me back to my senses. We have helped each other through the worst of this experience. Originally I had said I would do this one solo if nobody could go with me. Looking back, I doubt I could have made it without her help. The decent is unrelenting and difficult and by the bottom we are in our typical exhausted state, this time compounded by dehydration as our quart of water is gone well before the bottom. The Little Fish Shelter is gone but Three Fools Creek is what we are looking for and we mainline water out of my filter for several minutes before even bothering to fill the bottles. Another rest in the cool shade of the creek stiffens our resolve to see this thing through to the end. Three Fools Creek trail is brushy and overgrown with vine maple along the creek itself, with more downed trees when we climb higher. I begin to think of it as Two Fools Creek for Catrina and I.

And then, like a miracle, we step out of the Pasayten Wilderness and into the Ross Lake NRA. The trails become clean and brush free. It’s like walking in a park. Lightning Creek lives up to it’s name as we burn out 2 miles to the crossing in less than an hour. It’s giddy how enjoyable the hiking becomes. We laugh and talk and our world has suddenly become brighter. Deer Lick Cabin is a beautiful structure with tight seams and solid floor. Ross Lake beckons 4 miles away and we set off at a strong clip. Unfortunately, the pounding of the last 4 days has sapped us. So close to the end, we are just too wiped out to keep up the pace. By the drop into Ross Lake we can barely make it to the Lightning Creek campground. We are 15 miles from the end. It’s too much to do in less than a day, even on perfect trail. We decide to crash for a few hours, have dinner, and night hike to Rainbow Point campground, 8 miles down lake. That will put us about 7 miles from the trailhead and doable by our goal. We both take a dip in the surprisingly warm waters of Ross Lake, then do some quick laundry to take advantage of the hot late afternoon sun. I retire to my hammock and Catrina to her bag for a couple of hours of sleep. We awake in the dusky hours just before dark. A quick dinner and we are heading south by headlamp. It’s a surreal trip that finds us crossing both suspension bridges in the dark along with a handful of creeks and one log, all the time trying not to fall asleep on our feet and wander off the trail into the lake or down a hillside. Abruptly, the Rainbow Point campground sign fills my headlamp light. We have made it. It is 12:30 am on Sunday and the camp is full. A group of campers are still up around a campfire so I stop to ask about open spots. They are incredulous to find two sleepwalking hikers who have just completed nearly 105 miles of trail in their midst. One generously offers an extra tent pad at his site to us and we gratefully accept. Too tired to bother with much other than collapsing, we forgo our usual separate accommodations and I just erect my tarp over our bags and pads. We chug some water and fall into the bags around 1am on Sunday. Day Nine, July 19, 7 miles Morning comes too early. I crawl out of bed to go to the bathroom and nearly fall down with dizziness. More water improves my condition enough to function. I once again thank our host as he loads his canoe to leave. Catrina and I have breakfast and head south. The closer we get to the trailhead the faster we move. It’s time to be out. The East Bank Trail is a fine, well graded joy to hike. Some day I would like to travel it as something more than a route out. We clean up at the wonderful bridge over Ruby Creek at the trailhead and wait for our ride.

This hike was probably the most physically challenging thing I have ever done. It also tested my mental and emotional limits. The Pasayten is a true wilderness. You are a long way from civilization in most locations and this adds to the experience. The peaks here have a wide open grandeur very reminiscent of the high Rockies. Still, I would not recommend this trip to anyone but the most experienced and most physically fit. Even then, I think they would be challenged to the extreme by the current conditions of the trails.

[Conrad]

Wow. Great trip, great report. So, I think I'll do it myself next week. Wanta come do it again? (Just kidding. Actually we're going to do just a Horseshoe Basin 3-day 7/31-8/2).

[Foist]

Congratulations, great job. An amazing accomplishment. I hope, overall, your memories of the trip are warm and positive?

[wamtngal]

Most excellent! Congrats on confronting your nemisis and succeeding! What a trip. I would like to do the entire Boundary trail at some point and have done portions of it. I love the Pasayten. Do you know much about the Barker Brown cabin? JustTodd and I saw it on a 5-day trip during the 4th of July holiday. That whole area is amazingly beautiful.

[Seracer]

The mind has a way of playing up the good and releasing the bad, I think. I know with time the things I will remember will be the stunning vistas and flowers. For now, the heat, bugs and deadfall hold more power. Don't know much about Barker Brown cabin, no. I would love to find out what it was for originally, who built it, etc. What an amazing location! Think I will wait a bit for another 100 miler, thanks...

[gone]

What an incredible adventure, and an amazing accomplishment. Thanks for sharing your memories of the trip, it's a wonderful read!

[Traildad]

Epic! And most well done. A trip I have long thought about but will likely never get done. Congratulations to you and your daughter

[Seracer]

Posted some video also. I accidently call Sheep Mountain meadows, Quartz Mountain meadows in the one. Forgive me.

[seawallrunner]

holy wow. I love how candid you are, what an adventure, no sugar coating, beautiful views but even larger challenges. What a fantastic, fantastic report. this is a trail I want to experience someday. I wonder how many people do it the other way - from Ross Lake to Horseshoe Basin? Would route finding be more difficult or easier? Conrad - you, me, next week. I start from Ross, you start from Horseshoe, we exchange keys at the PCT. Anyone else joining in?

[Seracer]

I chose east-west rather than west-east thinking that the first few days would be easier that way. Allow us to get used to the heavy packs and get our "trail legs" before the tougher stuff. Turns out the tough stuff was in the middle.

[seawallrunner]

Turns out the tough stuff was in the middle. that's because of all the fires, and the lack of maintenance from the part of crews, is that right? Would you say the toughest part was between Ashnola and Freezout? It is a rather remote area, yes, with Cascade Recreation Area and Manning Park on the other side of the border - but nature's fury (fires, storms, and harsh winters) appear to have their way with the trails as well.

[Seracer]

Yes, that's right Seawallrunner. If the trail was in good shape, then the toughest section would probably be Castle Pass to Three Fools Creek. It had the most elevation gain and loss. But the lack of trail maintenance between Bunker Hill and Castle Pass hurt us the most.

[jenjen]

Wow! What a great trip. Thanks so much for posting this. I'll have to print this out and sit down with my maps. I'm planning to hike the Boundary Trail to the PCT and then take the PCT South to Hwy 20 in September. At least the bugs should be more tolerable by then...

[beethovenhiker]

I did Iron Gate to Harts Pass on the Boundary Trail in October 2004, was great. I got confused for a while at the unmarked junctions around Quartz Lake. I only saw one party of humanoids between the trailhead and the PCT. Monument 83 was a very worthwhile "sidetrip" on some trails that haven't been maintained in many years, I recommend it. I loved Cathedral, it was like Liberty Bell without the stinking highway. This was a very fun hike.

[Slide Alder Slayer]

Nine days unsupported, way to go!