[Texaco]

MY GOALS FOR THE TRAVERSE: 1. Speed. My goal was to move thru the route as quickly as possible. I had already taken quite a bit of time off work this summer, so I really couldn’t take much more time off for The Traverse. No problem, I figured I could make the most of newly acquired conditioning. Regardless, I have never been the type of hiker that likes to linger very long in one place. 2. Ultralight. I had been using the same gear for quite some time. A trip like this would have typically seen me packing somewhere around 40 pounds. With my ultralight gear overhaul I was able to get my weight down to 18 pounds at the start of the hike, and finish somewhere around 12 pounds. 3. Solo. I’m not primarily a solo hiker, but when speed is at issue, I don’t want to feel like I’m putting pressure on a fellow sojourner to keep up. The solo aspect would also allow for some much needed reflection, as well as a more intense sensation of “living in the moment” on a route that is supposed to be the epitome of mountain panoramas. 4. Informed. I went to great ends to be as informed as possible about the route and the history behind the area. Hopefully this TR will serve others as I try to include all the advice, pictures, and waypoints I can muster. Another desire I have in trying to share my experience is to be as realistic as possible about the challenges the Bailey Range Traverse has to offer. I am comfortable with the risks I accepted on this route, but I’m not one to ice over the REAL dangers that it presents. One thing to note in particular is that this route is not a hike, but a mountaineering traverse (maybe I’m splitting hairs here, but I think it’s worth discussing). Many folks begin this journey with very incorrect assumptions, the most common being that they are going on a hike similar to what they have always experienced on trail in the Olympics. There are three aspects that would hint that this is not the case: - there is no constructed trail for 15 miles (and much of the time no discernable trail whatsoever). Note that I did NOT say “no maintained trail.” Many sections of trail in Olympic were built, or constructed, but are no longer maintained, but at least they were dug or blasted at some point into the side of the mountain. I believe this is a major distinction to be aware of on The Traverse. - there are multiple sections of the route that involve Class 3, AND Class 4 climbing albeit on pretty solid rock. Believe me there are MANY places you DO NOT want to fall along this route. - and finally there are segments of snow travel along the route with poor run out that could require quick self arrest with an ice axe. 5. Photography. Although I wanted to move through the route quickly, I also wanted to make time for a significant amount of photos. THE ROUTE: I had always figured that I would attempt to do the traverse solo. That meant that I would either need to get assistance from someone to help me drop a car off at the exit point, and then drop me off a the entry point, or as a second option I could swap vehicles with another group heading in the opposite direction. My wife and kids were going to be making an extended trip back down to see family in August, so I was planning on getting some serious hiking wedged into the schedule. Since my wife was the only realistic way I could pull off the pain in the butt car drop, I would have to find someone to do the car swap with. I scored on the car swap option through a connection from work. Dale had been hoping to do the route with his four buddies for many years, and was making the final plans for doing the traverse with them in August. They were going to do the traditional direction from Sol Duc, and out the North Fork Quinault. Yikes! That meant I would need to do the backwards route, and traverse from south to north. No worries…should make for a fun challenge! One week prior to heading out, the trail reports were not good for the North Fork Quinault. I managed to talk directly with one of the Rangers at the Quinault ranger station, who reported that the latest info he had on the Sixteen Mile river crossing was that in was moving swiftly, and was chest deep! With this kind of beta we decided to switch our route to the Elwha. The report we had for this track was not necessarily positive. I believe Ancient Ambler’s TR from a week prior used words such as: high, very fast, white water, and raging torrents! Oh well! At least it was not chest deep like the Quinault, and on the positive side, the stream will have had another two weeks to fall down into better shape since that report. It was still an unknown, but even in its condition two weeks prior, was in far better shape than the Quinault. You can view and download my waypoints here THE PLAN: Thurday, August 2, 4pm (had to work till 1pm): Elwha TH to Chalet Camp Friday, August 3: Chalet Camp to site at Dodwell-Rixon Pass Saturday, August 4: Dodwell-Rixon Pass to Eleven Bull Sunday, August 5: Eleven Bull to High Divide (or hike out to car late) Monday, August 6: High Divide to Sol Duc TH Dale (the lead of the group I was crossing coming from the opposite direction) was taking a more typical pace on the route. They would leave two days before I did, and then have two days longer than I did to get out. Our plan was to cross each other somewhere on the Southern Bailey Range. GEAR: Pack: ULA Ohm 2.0, Tarptent Notch, Bag: Mountain Hardwear Speed, Pad: Neo Xlite S, Stove: Trail Designs Caldera Keg, Fuel: Esbit, Sawyer Squeeze water filter, GPS: inReach + iPhone (Gaia GPS App), Montbell Hoody, Camp Corsa Axe, Yaktrax, Camera (Lumix FZ 150), Bose Headphones (not ultralight, I know, but absolutely the eleventh essential for me), plus other camp essentials = base weight of 12 pounds. FOOD: Breakfast: made myself with recipes from trailcooking.com, this is a great resource for freezer bag meal recipes (2-Sarah’s Fattening Berry Coconut Oatmeal, 2-Cheesy Bacon Grits), 4-Starbucks Via, 4-Tablespoon Coffeemate Creamer Trail Snacks: 8-Clif Shot Bloks Lunch: 4-Pro Bars, 4-Builders Bars Dinner: 4-Mountain House Dinners removed from the vacpac bags, put into freezer bags, 4-candy bars I have used a cozy that I made out of Reflectix material from Home Depot for years that I place the freezer bag meals in for fast cooking. Total Food Weight = 5.5 pounds Total Weight = 17.5 pounds I did not carry water for most of the route, which saved me quite a bit of effort on the trip as a whole. The Sawyer Squeeze has been a great addition to my gear in this regard, since I try to stop every 5 miles at a stream, drink my fill, empty the filter, and move on. THURSDAY, AUGUST 2: I awoke that morning to the sound of my phone pinging from an email receipt. It was my permit for the trip from the WIC in PA…or so I thought. The forecast for the trip weekend looked to be the best yet of the whole summer, which had made for an enormous flood of calls for reservations and permits at the WIC. I had waited until Monday to start the process of getting a permit and reservations, since we had not decided for sure on our route until seeing the updated trail conditions at the beginning of the week. I opened the “permit” to see typed in the middle of it: “this is not a permit, come to the WIC before 2pm today to pick up the real permit, or this reservation will be cancelled.” Bummer…I was already stressed about trying to zip over to the trailhead from Silverdale as fast as possible, and hopefully avoid a night hike into camp on the Upper Elwha…headlamp moved to front pocket of pack. Work couldn’t be over soon enough as the day drug on, and by 1pm I was flying out the door. One stop for some food, and I was off to Port Angeles. It did not go over well that I did not have a bear canister… Dale and I were planning on crossing somewhere during our respective traverses over the southern Bailey range. Since bear canisters would not be a requirement for the rest of their journey down the Elwha at this point, I would take one of their bear canisters thereby saving me (and them) two pounds of dead weight on the Elwha segment of the trip. (I know, a whole whopping two pounds…but I’m fully indoctrinated into the ultralight obsession now!). The Ranger reluctantly documented the plan on my permit and sent me on my way. He stated that he did not believe anyone had completed the entire traverse yet this year, and wished me a safe journey. It was a beautiful drive the rest of the way from the WIC to Whiskey Bend. The bits and pieces of leftover clouds from the latest low-pressure system were washing up and over the high peaks to the south like the last gurgles of water trickling out of a bathtub. Bluebird was all that remained in their absence. The timing could not have been more perfect for a stroll around the Park. I pulled into the trailhead by 3:15, and after checking for Dale’s car keys and mine a dozen times to assure they were in my pack, I hit the trail by 3:40 pm.

Whiskey Bend TH

For the first mile or so I did my typical stop-and-start routine, untying and retying my boots to be sure I had the correct tension over my foot and around my ankle. I brought along my old faithful boots for the trek. They are Asolo Power Matic’s that I have been wearing for seven years. The uppers are so well broken-in that shoelaces are probably optional. I just had them resoled and waterproofed last year, so they were primed for a high mileage outing.

Lower Elwha

This would be my first trip to the headwaters of the Elwha. The only other trip I had made up the stream was a family outing about two years ago. Looking back, my wife had commented that we had taken the kids too far on that camping trip, and on the way up to Lillian River Camp I had to agree. Nonetheless, it was one of my favorite family backpacking trips. The first couple of miles of this trail must see quite a bit of traffic considering how wide the trail is as it winds thru second growth forest. Just before Antelope Creek the trail obviously enters into virgin forest, transitioning again to second growth forest with evidence of previous forest fires, and then descending into the Lillian River Canyon. This was the first mileage goal of the evening for me. I had divided this evening into three 5.5 mile segments. I arrived at the water hole at Lillian River camp two hours after leaving the trailhead, surrounded by old growth Douglas Fir and Cedar. The contrast between dark, deep, and damp old growth and the sun blazing though the break in the canopy wrought by the river, made for a pleasant water-chugging break.

Lower Elwha

Lower Elwha just beyond Lillian River

Lower Elwha just beyond Lillian River

Lower Elwha, peacock

Lower Elwha, dog pile

Lower Elwha, moss

Lower Elwha, silhouette

Lower Elwha chlorophyll

Camp Logbench (Elkhorn)

I continued upstream in good spirits. This has always been my favorite way to begin an outing. In the twilight, the air is cooler, and the colors of the sky, warmer. As I ascended once again, the firs and cedars fattened and towered even more. It was not long before I was cruising on the more level trail grade leading to my second watering hole: Canyon Camp. After filling the tanks again, I made short work of the remaining trail mileage. As I approached Elkhorn I could smell dinner cooking as a couple of parties were well into their evening routines. Just beyond Semple Plateau the evening sky had dimmed enough to break out the headlamp. Cruising on along the meadows of Press Valley I made it into Chateau Camp by 10:15pm. The tent went up in a flash, and before long I was cinched into my bag, with a belly full of spaghetti. I nodded off quickly to the sound of the Elwha cruising past my sandbar. FRIDAY, AUGUST 3 Morning came, and first glance out of the tent showed nothing but blue. I fired up an Esbit cube to boil water for breakfast in my new stove, which is basically a Foster’s Beer Can sitting on a wind shielding cone.

Camp Sandy, Chateau Camp, Camp 1, 16.4 miles up the Elwha River trail

My "stove." Trail Designs Caldera Keg w/Esbit for fuel. Basically just a Foster's beer can sitting in a wind shield. Worked amazingly well!

The trout were amazing on this section of the Elwha. I inspected trout filled holes on the river around camp and pondered what the future of these fish might be. Hopes are that with the dam gone, some of these same trout will make it down stream, and go anadromous, making the transition to enormous saltwater steelhead. The steelhead and king salmon in the Elwha were renowned for their size and aggressive characteristics before dam construction destroyed the runs. It will be exciting to see the results of the river restoration unfold over the next few decades.

Tame Elwha, Chateau Camp, Camp 1, 16.4 miles up the Elwha River trail

With breakfast devoured, caffeine and ibuprofen coursing thru my veins, I broke camp and hit the trail. I had heard the section of trail ahead of me was a mess, with the Hayes River Bridge getting an overhaul. Flagging clearly leads to the temporary log bridge that is in place across an enormous logjam.

Hayes River trail re-route

Hayes River trail re-route

Beyond the Hayes River, I entered a section of forest that makes the list of the greatest I have ever hiked. The trail thins out at this point, as hikers obviously do not frequent this distant stretch of ancient timber, with the same high traffic seen on the lower stretches of the stream. Enormous firs tower overhead, and a dense understory of vanilla leaf and cushy moss line the forest floor. I was moving along at a fast clip, when I ran into one of two human beings that I would cross on this side of the Bailey Range. D.J. was a cool guy who said he had just finished traversing the Southern Bailey’s via the Long Ridge Trail. During our conversation he kept trying to look around my back (probably to see if I was actually wearing a pack). He was hefting one of the largest packs I had ever seen in my life. Given that he was a tall guy (probably close to 6’5”) the pack extending over his head was reaching well over 7 feet into the upper atmosphere. He gave a good report of conditions on the snow finger, and a not so great report on the gorge bypass trail accessing the finger. He was shocked and skeptical when I told him I was planning on making camp at Dodwell-Rixon Pass, but wished me well as we went our opposite ways.

Perspective, below Chicago Camp

Foot log across the Upper Elwha

Nursery, below Chicago Camp

Oops! Stay off the fragile understory, idiot! On the way to Chicago Camp, Day 2.

Cheesy Action Shot below Chicago Camp

By noon I had made it up to Chicago Camp where I caught up with another hiker headed up the Elwha Basin Way Trail. He was a friendly guy from Germany who had been on trail in the Olympics for a week and a half. His plan was to get as far as the Elwha Basin river crossing and head back down. I thought that was a great plan since he could watch me cross, and offer some assistance if I took a fall during the ford. A trail crew had said the route to Elwha Basin was clear of trees, although the trail was difficult to follow in places. We had no issues staying on trail, but I could see how hikers might get confused and off trail in some areas where game trails became a distraction. I was surprised to see the trail washed out just below Happy Hollow Shelter. Many had obviously been getting lost in the riverbed here. I regained the trail by sticking to the northern bank of the river for about 30-40 yards, while dipping under and climbing over down trees. It did not take long before I could start to make out the roof of the Happy Hollow shelter poking out of the brush, and the trail continuing on to my right. I backtracked to make sure I had not missed a trail reroute, but saw nothing on either side.

Ostracized, Elwha Basin Way Trail

Elwha river ford in Elwha Basin

Only flagging the whole trip, this way to the mountians?gee thanks, never would have guessed!

View upstream in Elwha Basin.

First hurdle to the bailey range, elwha basin crossing. It was waist deep (Aug 3).

Once up to the crossing I was relieved to see that the river had fallen into a little bit better shape compared to photos I had seen two weeks prior. There was still a bit of white water in the deep section, but it was definitely not enough to hold me back from giving it a shot. D.J. had told me that the water only came up above his knees, and I had spent the last seven miles trying to comprehend what this meant for someone who was a foot shorter than him. This had me suffering from flashbacks of my last swift river crossing, which was one of the absolute dumbest moves I have ever made on the trail. The main bridge over the Upper Dungeness River was washed out in May 2008. Some moron had put a rope across the stream where the bridge used to sit. A couple of even bigger morons (i.e., me and my buddy) thought it looked like a feasible undertaking. We made it across, but it was nothing short of a miracle. Of course I have it on video: River Crossing Video Fortunately, the Elwha Basin River crossing didn’t look remotely as daunting as that previous crossing, but this was the first real obstacle to my completion of the Bailey Range Traverse. Without giving myself much of a chance to think about it further, I slipped of my boots and socks, unhooked my hip belt and went on in barefoot. It was no big deal, but it did go above my waist. First hurdle checked off!

On the good side...looking back across the Elwha Basin river crossing. It was waste deep in the white water.

I had made it 29 miles in 23 hours, and was feeling great! I scarfed down my lunch, filled my belly with water, donned my sunglasses, and headed into the bush on the gorge bypass “trail.”

Hike ends, traverse begins...nemisis number one: well watered vegetation

This first section would be the epitome of off trail travel during the snow free sections of the route: overgrown or nonexistent trail. Since I had left the machete at home, I began making the most critical maneuvers I would repeat throughout the entirety of the traverse, namely stepping blindly through vegetation always with a firm grip on a handful of foliage in case that blind step was leading off a cliff. Two circumstances had consorted to hide much of the trail that would have typically laid before me: Mother Nature, who had done a marvelous job watering the wilderness with incredible snowfall this year, and a lack of other bushwhackers who had probably made wiser decisions than I had by avoiding the route thus far due to lingering snow. Throughout the trek I tried not to waste too must time searching for the trail, but rather relied on my GPS as I continued to bushwhack through overgrown sections. The way trail traverses an island of land that is bordered by the Elwha gorge to the east and a creek crashing down from the eastern slopes of Mount Queets to the west. One must nearly summit this mass of land, and then loop back towards its western border to avoid the gorge occupied by the Elwha below. I stumbled along on the late season virgin boot path, and quickly reached the meadows that occupy the lower half of the spur. The waterfalls crashing down from Queets were spectacular! I continued upward repeatedly loosing and then discovering the trail, which eventually led into the upper-forested half of the spur. The 40 yards of trail prior to the trees was the clearest section of trail on the bypass, but it went straight into the forest, and ended…

The tease...clear trail in meadow heading up to snow finger.

Initial gorge bypass way trail

Base of the spur that rises between the a gorge coming down from the Elwha snow finger and a creek descending from the eastern slope of Mount Queets.

Bypass way trail following up towards the top of the spur, eastern slope of Mount Queets rising to the left

Waterfall plunging down Mount Queets

Gorge bypass way trail. Works better with a running start!

I backtracked and explored further up towards the top of the hill, but saw nothing persuading. Back down to the dead end trail, I took a leap of faith into the bush, and after tromping thru the veggies again, picked up the trail. The trail I followed continued in much the same rhythm. Clear trail into brush, leading to blow down, back to trail leading to cliff, veggie belay/side hill of cliff, etc., I repeated this for at least an hour as I beat my way thru this mess, before finally stepping out and then down the final steep hill to the end of the snow finger and the headwaters of the Elwha. Completing this section was another huge hurdle on the trek. At the time I figured that I must have taken the wrong path. Maybe I had been duped by a dozen different intertwined game trails?! When I returned home and pulled up the satellite tracking data I was astonished to see that my path had pretty much mirrored the way trail on my park map! There must be a better way to tackle this section!

The route I took along the bypass way trail around the Elwha gorge, documented by my InReach satellite transponder

The route I took along the bypass way trail around the Elwha gorge, documented by my InReach satellite transponder

Bailey waterfall on the opposite side of the gorge.

It took me about an hour to tackle this section of trail. I will post a link to the inReach satellite data once I finish the TR. You can zoom in incredibly close and see the route I took. Hindsight, I would stay higher, above tree line if possible to avoid the blow downs and cliffs, although I am unsure about how that alternate route would pan out in regards to the steepness as you near the snow finger. There was supposed to be a cairn marking the point where travelers coming from the other direction should begin the ascent to the bypass trail. Surprisingly, it was sitting in the middle of the waterway directly in front of where I exited the spur.

Headwaters of the Elwha. Can you find the cairn? It's in there!

Close up of cairn marking the beginning of the gorge bypass trail for travelers heading out the Elwha/Quinault

Headwaters of the Elwha

Elwha Snow Finger Terminus

Down out of the trees, and off of the cliff, I followed along the western side of the stream. I had heard horror stories of the dreaded snow finger, but at first look was not the least bit alarmed. Now it appeared that I would reap the benefits of the lingering snow pack! I stayed on rock as long as I could, walking beside the lower rotten terminus before hopping onto the mass of snow and avalanche debris, then heading uphill. Blinded by snow upon my new hiking matrix for the next 10 or so miles, I reached down to the collar of my shirt to discover (to my horror) that my sunglasses were no longer parked where I had placed them an hour ago, prior to entering the bushwhack to the finger! I shuddered at the thought of spending the next 24 hours traversing snow field after snow field, and snow clad summit upon snow clad summit in the clearest brightest sunshine Washington has seen all Summer with NO SUNGLASSES! I have seriously wimpy eyes! Would I be snow blind by noon tomorrow? I put my fears on the back burner as best I could, and headed up the snow finger, purposely aiming for which ever side was in shadow.

Elwha snow finger from its terminus

The Snow Hump

Snow Hump in shadows

Halfway up the Elwha Snow Finger

Upper third of the Elwha Snow Finger

My Yaktrax and ice axe stayed in the pack, as footing was excellent, and there were none of the later season snow hazards typically associated with the section. The snow finger was one of the easiest sections of the traverse. I made it up to Dodwell-Rixon Pass (N47 47’ 5.8”/W123 35’ 36.5”) in a little over and hour and a half from the cairn, which was a very good thing since it was 6:00pm and I was anxious to find a site to setup camp. I had heard that there was a great campsite close to the pass, next to a tarn at the base of Mount Queets. As I made it up into Queets Basin it quickly became obvious that I would need to reroute to a different site, as I continued to traverse across the basin on probably >12 feet of snow pack. There was not even a square foot of basin that had yet melted out. In fact the only break in the snow I could make out was on a saddle that I could see up in the distance. Meringues, pillows, and endless rolling waves rendered a sea of snow that extended as far as the eye could see.

Olympus from Queets Basin

Summer Meringues in Queets Basin

Sun over lingering snow pack in Queets Basin

Rolling sea of snow in the Southern Bailey Range

Regrettably, I continued uphill towards the saddle between Mt. Barnes and Peak 5833 (N47 47’ 28.6”/ W123 35’ 1.0”). Meadows and trees on the broad depression in the ridge made me confident that I could find running water, and a dry site for camp.

Camp 2 - Saddle between Mount Barnes and Peak 5833

That last climb up another 700 foot out of Queets Basin drained the last bit of fuel and water from the tanks. It was a great relief to arrive at the Saddle to find ample dry and level ground to erect my tent. As a bonus, a small stream close by was coursing down from snowfields clinging to the west face of Mount Barnes. Dehydration was definitely setting in. I had continued to put off water breaks since leaving Elwha Basin, driven on by fear of the sun racing towards the elevated horizon. Ice cold running water easily inflated my Sawyer bag. I filled my belly, filtered water into my flimsy Costco half-liter water bottles, and refilled the water bag for morning. Back at camp and rehydrated I was much more capable of appreciating the stunning views extending in all directions from the Saddle. The view to the east afforded an expansive view of the eastern Olympics. The view to the west was a ridiculous close up of Mount Olympus, though I hardly recognized its foreign eastern slopes. Colors cooled by the minute as the sun descended, and then warmed after sunset through the haze that was rising from this wilderness that had seen so little sun up till now.

Cool sky...view east from the saddle

Cool sky...Oympus at sunset

Warm sky...view east from the saddle

Warm sky...Olympus at sunset

My tent went up without a hitch. I was slightly concerned about conditions in the saddle, and how my minimalist tent would hold up to the winds that were cruising past by at least 30 mph. With everything looking secure I dove into my rattling shelter, got a brew going, and before long was drifting off to sleep with a full belly. Dead tired from a poor night’s sleep the evening before, and from 18 or so miles of trekking, I could tell that I would enjoy sound sleep tonight. As I drifted off morale was definitely at its lowest during the traverse.

Camp 2 in Saddle between Mt. Barnes and Peak 5833

So many uncertainties: would my tent make it thru this kind of wind abuse tonight? Would I stay warm in my bag? Would I be able to meet the mileage goals for the next day (very aggressive with my sights set on reaching Eleven Bull)? How would I traverse the endless snowfields I could see continuing on out of sight, without protection for my eyes? Have I lost my mind? I’m solo on the Bailey Range Traverse, and currently over 33 miles away from civilization…no matter, sound sleep descended upon me as the wind cruised by and in my unconscious state, mind, body, and morale began to be reset for another day walking alone in an alpine paradise… SATURDAY, AUGUST 4 I’m not above turning around, and calling it quits. Some of the best episodes I’ve ever seen of “I Shouldn’t Be Alive” are the product of a sojourner that is too stubborn to give up and turn back, even though lacking a critical element of survival gear. There are many reasons why sun protection was listed just below a map and compass on the list of “Ten Essentials,” coined by The Mountaineers back in the 1930s. Snow blindness would be a serious possibility on the next leg of my journey without some kind of UV protection. Having no interest in traversing the snow-clad Southern Bailey Range, only to arrive at Cream Basin with fried corneas, dug thru my gear in hopes of an improvisation. Nothing had occurred to me as I was dozing off the night before, but I was too wiped to brainstorm anyways. With breakfast down the hatch, coffee on board, and finally good nights sleep under my belt, it occurred to me very quickly. My hat, unused rigging off my pack, some utility cord, plus some handy knot tying produced something better than nothing.

I'm Batman...

Complete with drawstring!

Batcam

With the third essential back in play I was able to enjoy my favorite moment of the entire traverse. Coffee in hand, music coursing thru my headphones, and mini sleeping pad wedged up against a boulder, I sat in awe of the scenery that extended out in every direction from camp.

Tarptent Notch (and Olympus)

Good mornin' Oly'!

Theme of the traverse: sun!

Peak 5833

Moon over olympus massif

Sunrise on Olympus

Summit of Mount Barnes

Video from Saddle After a good bit of time basking in the glory of the Olympics, I put up camp and set off for the summit of Peak 5833 towards Bear Pass. My plan for the day was to rely heavily upon my GPS and the route provided by the Olympic Mountain Rescue Climber’s Guide waypoints (OCG). The only slight challenge was to connect the dots in reverse, since the route provided in the guide is for travellers heading in the opposite direction. My goal for the day was to make it all the way to Eleven Bull. I knew it might be way more than I could handle for the day, and so my backup plan was to compromise by making camp along the way at Lone Tree Pass, or Lake Billy Everett. Trail connecting the Saddle with Bear Pass (N47 47’ 40.5”/W123 35’ 12.9”): The trail leaves the Saddle, switchbacks up towards the top of Peak 5833, and then descends to Bear Pass. The views along this section are stunning. I was surprised to see a tarn come into view as I made my way up 5833.

Tarn below 5833

Continuing up 5833

Tarn below meadow on 5833

Barnes, Dodwell-Rixon, Queets

My melon on 5833 trail

Optional class 5 route to bear pass

Peak 5833

Trail up 5833

Goldie River Basin

Summer vs Winter in Queets Basin

Bear Pass

Closer to Bear Pass

View from Bear Pass

Wishful thinking? Eleven Bull Basin in middle of photo, my goal for days end.

Traversing Bear Pass Glacier, and ridge crest that ends 0.3 miles ESE of Peak 5961 (N47 48’ 15.2”/W123 35’ 16.8”): This is an amazing section of backcountry travel. The route alternates between dry trail and snowpack as it vacillates along the top of the ridge. Dropping off abruptly to the east is the Goldie River basin, with Mount Scott in the foreground, and the eastern Olympics distantly muted on the horizon. I don’t believe I have ever seen a more clear sky in all my life, and I was thankful to have figured out a way to soften the intense radiation reflecting off of the snow, since my sunglasses were safely tucked away in the bush somewhere on the gorge bypass trail below. The beauty of some of the niches along the ridge was sublime. I often felt like I was walking into professionally landscaped rock gardens. My Yaktrax worked beautifully, and I was definitely glad to have my ice axe along as many of the snowfields have very poor run out in case of a misstep (especially those on the Goldie side of the ridge). They also provided me with the confidence to move rather quickly through the section, although I took many stops for photos along the way. My commitment to going ultralight was paying off…big time. I had not even felt the presence of my pack at all since the second day on the trail. Seriously, not only did I lack any sore spots on my hips or shoulders, I literally could not even feel the pack on my back. By now my load likely weighed somewhere around 14 pounds…just awesome!

Bear Glacier, Bailey ridge crest in distance

Peak 6193 (Mt Childs) and Ragamuffin

Olympus from Bear Glacier

Yaktrax on

On ridge heading towards Mt Childs (6193)

Looking north along ridge to Mt Childs

Olympus from ridge

Trail along ridge

Looking south alonge ridge

Ridge, Bear Glacier, 5833, Mt Barnes

Goldie River Basin

Queets, Bear Glacier, 5833, Mt Barnes

Olympus against the Bailey Range

Poser

Southern Bailey ridge crest to Lone Tree Pass (N47 49’ 49.7”/W123 24’ 9.6”), plus several other waypoints that connected the dots along the route that I’ll reference in the photos: This section of the Bailey Range traverses snowfields clinging to the side of the ridge as the route continues to ascend and descend the crest of the ridge. Navigation was a breeze with my GPS setup, which was an app on my iPhone (Gaia GPS) that is able to utilize the GPS signal provided by my InReach satellite transponder. I was able to input the waypoints and draw a trail on the map display for my route beforehand. I continued with the same exercise I had become accustomed to that morning, taking the straightest route I could from waypoint to waypoint, but with the goal of trying not to lose elevation. This required some fairly steep side hilling at many points along the snowfields, but perfect snow conditions and the Yaktrax made quick work of it all. I traversed on snow and rock through a snow filled canyon that looked like a giant half-pipe: a snowboarders dream. Sharp needle peaks south of Mount Childs reached upwards like swords piercing the sky, while other numerous summits displayed much more rounded profiles with strata in complete nonconformity with their neighbors. As I worked my way towards the rock out-cropping and through a low point in the ridge, the views opened up down into the Hoh River valley.

Traversing on snow and rock (N47 48 25.9, W123 35 14.3)

Sharp needle peaks south of Mt Childs mentioned in OCG

More Needles

Snow-filled canyon (N47 48 37.4, W123 35 3.6)

thrity five degrees

Rock outcropping (N47 48 50.9, W123 34 53.9), and low point in the ridge (N47 48 47, W123 34 51.3) just to the right of this peak

Mount Olympus, smiling

View to the Hoh river valley beyond the low point in the ridge

Through the low point in the ridge and out of the shade of the cool canyon, I began baking on the climb up the slopes of Peak 6073. By this point I was beginning to get a little nervous. Surely I should have crossed Dale and his buddies by now! We had planned on crossing paths on this section of the Traverse since the snowy slopes would greatly increase the odds of us spotting one another in this vast wilderness. Once I was back in the bush beyond Ferry Basin it would be a miracle if we managed to find each other. My hope was to be able to bum an extra pair of sunglasses off of the guys, along with a lighter. The top of my lighter had busted off the night before (l wasn’t just stressing out about the lost sunglasses). Thankfully, my emergency stash of waterproof matches had worked well last night, but would I have enough to make up a few more brews for the remainder of the trip? I’d rather not chance it. On top of Peak 6073 I could see the next summit ahead, and the snow slope capping it, which leads down to Lone Tree Pass. Views of Olympus had opened up once again as I was gaining separation from the Southern Bailey’s, and heading towards the brushy Northern slopes ahead.

Peak 6073 N47 49 16.3, W123 34 25.8)

View east from the top of 6073

Ludden-Scott saddle from 6073

Oly from 6073

me and oly

Optional route to Goldie River thru the little void to the left

Snow at on this summit is the top of the snow slope N47 49 36.6, W123 34 16.3), leading to Lone Tree Pass

Mt Scott from the top of snow slope above lone tree pass

A quick traverse up this peak, and a run down the snow slope found me at Lone Tree Pass for lunch. I was excited to see the Ludden-Scott saddle from this side. (Almost twenty years prior with no online blogs to provide me with tips, and too much ignorance to know of the existence of a climbers guide, my buddy and I had hiked all the way up the Long Ridge Trail and continued on the way trail below Ludden Peak, only to observe the trail dead end into the side of a cliff. With no knowledge of a route around, we gave up our hopes of making it to Ferry Basin, turned around right then and hiked out all the way back to the car by 3 a.m.) My sights were still set on Eleven Bull. It was 12:30, and I had reached Lone Tree Pass in 4 hours. Surely I could handle the rest of the section by bean time tonight!? I did the math as I scarfed down lunch thru my mosquito net.

Pulitzer and lone tree pass from top of the snow slope

Trail to Lone Tree Pass

The LonelyTree

Lone Tree Pass to Camp #3 Back on trail, I hit the switchbacks up the slopes of Pulitzer, then around and down into Ferry Basin. The liquid phase of H2O was a welcome sight in the basin. I filled my belly with water, and without wasting too much time, worked my way down to Lake Billy Everett. This was to be a campsite for Dale and company, but not a soul was there. My only hope for crossing them now would be Cream Lake.

Looking back at the snow slope that led down to Lone Tree Pass, glad I didn't have to plod up that snow slope

Upper Ferry Basin

Pulitzer and Pulitzer Lake

Lake Billy Everett, Stephen Peak Traverse in background

OCG Stephen Peak Traverse in Yellow

Close-up, OCG Stephen Peak Traverse in Yellow (I went a bit higher up ~5400 ft)

Returning to the bush for the first time since I stepped onto the Snow Finger, I found myself returning to similar conditions. The trail from Lake Billy Everett to the meadows above Cream Lake was very, very faint. After loosing it numerous times, I gave up on trying to chase trail and headed directly towards Cream Lake. That was a mistake. The forest between the upper meadows of Cream Basin and Cream Lake is a mosquito and biting fly infested Christmas tree farm from hell. I started bushwhacking and veggie belaying down to the lake with the goal of finding Dale. However, by the time I decided that they were not there, having run out of water I couldn’t turn around. I begrudgingly made it down to the water hole, filled up, and headed right back into the trees trying to make it to the beginning of the Stephen Peak Traverse (whatever that looked like). I had found no information on this section of trail that rises up from the Cream Basin meadows. All I had was a waypoint. Desperate to stay out of the mess above Cream Lake I began working straight uphill in hopes of working all the way up to the Stephen Peak Traverse from where I was at the Northern tip of the lake. Only 200ft up from the lake I began running into blow down after blow down and cliff after cliff. After wasting another hour I decided it would be best to backtrack south directly downhill from the OCG waypoint marking the proper route. Difficult side hilling found me in a dry gully heading straight up hill towards the waypoint. I was very surprised to find this to be the “trail” I had been so curious about. It was obviously the only reasonable way up the hill. The slope was far too steep to try and walk on the meadow grass and scree.

Meadow above Cream Lake

Cream Lake thru the sticks, I walked thru that mess

Working back over to the gully from Cream Lake

Looking down gully to Cream Lake

Looking up steep gully

Looking down gully

The gully ascends all the way up to the 5200’ level. The climbing is never less than Class 3, and alternates between scrambling on rock and kicking steps up snow-filled sections. It would be a very bad place to fall! I cannot imagine how people down climb this gully with huge loads on their backs! As I approached tree line around 5000’ I could make out the trail; the faint path could been seen side hilling below cliff bands on Stephen Peak towards the Spur Ridge SW of Peak 5978 (a notable landmark in navigating the Traverse). The welcome sight of bona fide trail did very little to damper the anxiety I could feel rising up in my chest, as the sun was moving uncomfortably close to the horizon. It was now 7 o’clock. There was no way I could make it to Eleven Bull before dark! A bivouac on the side of the hill might be my only option. Unfortunately, all that I could see extending out in front of me was the unrelenting steep grade of the Northern Bailey’s. It might be a really long night! Kicking it into high gear on the tree line segment of the Stephen Peak Traverse was an exercise in frustration. At least three times on the way across I would be cruising along on the faint trail only to have it fade into oblivion, or dead end into short cliffs. Once again I relied on my GPS, and did my best to maintain my elevation around 5200’.

Spur in distance trail at center

Looking back across first top section of Stephen Peak traverse

Upper portion of Stephen Peak Traverse, trail can be seen right of center, heading towards spur ridge SW of Peak 5978

Close up of trail

With a close eye on my GPS I dove into the thick forest of the spur. The faint trail quickly transitioned into a well-beaten boot path which switch backed down the spine of the Spur Ridge. The only concern I had left at this point was avoiding a dead end trail that branches off of my current route, and heads down to a lake way below towards the Hoh River via slide alder hell. Before I knew it I was far enough north to be assured that this was the correct path. The trail leveled out in a draw to the north of the Spur Ridge. A small tarn occupies this little mosquito-infested oasis, and most-importantly it harbors a single site of level ground just large enough to accommodate my one-person tent (N47 52’ 5.89”/ W123 37’ 21.43). Hallelujah! No sooner than I had found the campsite, and thrown my pack down, the sun crested the ridge across the Hoh River valley. It was 8:30 p.m. and I had never been so happy to be making camp. I couldn’t have cared less that this little mountain niche contained half of the total population of Olympic mosquitos…it was a level place to lay my head with water to boot. As a bonus, I could not believe how good I felt after making it so close to Eleven Bull (1.5 miles as the crow flies), especially after having gotten lost in Cream Basin for two hours.

Just in the nick of time at "camp," bottom of trail coming down Peak 5978 Spur

Water hole: mosquito incubator at the bottom of the spur

Godsend of a one person tent site

My tent went up in a flash (after I had donned my mosquito net, and applied half a bottle of DEET). I loaded up my water bag, and as quickly as possible dove into the tent. Headlamp on, I then laid back in my bag and began the massacre of the one hundred or so little vampires that had spilled into the tent with me. Brew was on, food devoured, and within minutes I was sound asleep.

Sunset at "One Bull" Basin

Dinner is served, my Caldera Keg stove in action with Esbit cubes for fuel

Stephen Peak Traverse Detail - Topo

Stephen Peak Traverse Detail - Satellite

SUNDAY, AUGUST 5 I awoke in the morning to yet another day of perfect weather. My goal for the day was to make it all the way out to the Sol Duc trailhead. Just in case I had underestimated my timing or stamina for this section, I did have a reservation on High Divide if I needed one more night to recoup before heading out. I broke camp and was on trail by 8:30.

Olympus from One Bull

Although faint at times, having a fairly consistent boot path was an amazing feeling. The route headed uphill from the draw through steep flower clad meadows, broken by occasional clusters of trees. Veggie belay and sidehilling would be the techniques of the day on the Northern Bailey’s.

Peak flower season trail to 11 bull

Looking back at the the draw below the Spur ridge

The Draw

Slopes leading to Eleven Bull

And closer to Eleven Bull

Bushwhacking...again

And closerer to Eleven Bull

Flower collage of the United States

Wildflowers were at peak, as were the views in all directions, thus I took my sweet time and didn’t arrive at the first gully crossing until after an hour and a half on trail. I had heard a great deal about these upcoming obstacles. There was no lack of beta in regards to the gullies, which are enough of an obstacle early on for those doing the route from North to South, to make a significant percentage of sojourners give up and turn around. The first gully was quite steep, but solid rock at the crossing made it straightforward. Most of the other gullies on the way to Eleven Bull involved scrambling down and then back up loose scree and dirt slopes. One gully was snow-filled on this section with great footing due to the prime weather conditions of the day. For the most part I tried to follow the most well beaten path and use common sense to choose the safest routes. I did come across a trekking pole that had been dropped in the first gully…yikes! I also came across the first humans I had seen since Elwha after crossing that first gully. This early on in their trip they looked like they had just walked out of REI, clothes and gear clean and crisp. They were not comforted at what lay ahead for them, after seeing and smelling my nastiness. I don’t bring extra clothing other than a set of thermals to sleep in, so I was looking pretty rough by now.

Looking back at first gully crossing

Suckers, first humans since the Elwha

Looking back towards Southern Bailey's

Eleven Bull below Olympus

Olympus

Snow-filled gully

I made it to Eleven Bull by 11:30, but wishing to move ahead at a quicker pace I stopped at a creek above the basin and continued on. This last section heading up on to the shoulder of Mount Carrie was tricky. The trail was difficult to keep in sight at times, and the gullies deeper and more exposed, requiring quite a bit of Class 3 climbing at times.

Watering hole above Eleven Bull

The first gully from Eleven Bull was broad and deep and composed of loose dirt and gravel. This is the only gully on the whole trip that I would have preferred crossing from the other direction. The few large rocks embedded within the slope would have made for great hand and foot holds, had they not crumbled when the slightest bit of weight was applied to them. After climbing almost all the way up, sliding all the way back down, and then trying a different approach, I was out and on my way again. The trail between the gravel gully and the next was sketchy to non-existent as the route passes through clusters of trees. I scrambled through the steep area, thankful for solid holds provided by the trees and vegetation. After a slow and frustrating tramp through this mess I finally regained the trail, which brought me to the cliff gully. This scar on the hillside presented quite a bit of exposed Class 3 climbing to negotiate, but the route was easy to follow. Staying on trail was very difficult after the cliff gully, again with more of the same frustrating veggie belay along steep slopes. Back on trail, I made my way down the final gully the uphill side of which turns into a climb up a 700-foot cliff that gains the shoulder of Mount Carrie.

Looking down the Hoh

The final gully and climb up towards Boston Charlies

Before long I was cruising through Carrie’s meadows. I passed one group of sojourners on the way down to Boston Charlie’s, and then another party at Boston Charlie’s that had just exited the Catwalk. I passed up a very good watering hole on the shoulder of Mount Carrie, and thus was left filtering water out of the stagnant cesspool at Boston’s. Here I was at my final hurdle to completing the Bailey Range Traverse. And, it was at this spot that I finally understood why the Climber’s Guide recommends the north to south direction for the route: as the entry point for those heading from this direction, the showy Catwalk must serve as an excellent filter for those who probably should not be attempting it at all. An alarmingly exposed section of trail traverses this arête, but the solid rock and trees available for veggie belay made for safe travel. That said, a fall at the wrong spot, and there would have been little to stop me from careening 3000 feet down towards the Hoh River. There were many Class 3 perches along the path as it snaked back and forth from north side to south side, with harrowing exposure down the highest cliffs I had encountered along the entire traverse, extending directly down from my feet. Once across the Catwalk I continued uphill to find the exit path that lead me 300 feet down Cat Peak to the High Divide-Bailey Range Trail. It was now 3:30 pm, and I could almost taste beer and pizza as I looked down perfectly level constructed trail bed extending out for miles in front of me.

Back on maintained trail

Close to High Divide

Olympus

Almost on top of High Divide, also where I ran out of steam for the first time during the traverse

Two hours later I was heading down the High Divide towards Heart Lake when I came across the first large animal of the entire traverse. I adjusted my course down the hillside to get comfortably close to the black bear, took a few pictures, and headed up to Heart Lake for much needed hydration.

Sol Duc Park, almost to the parking lot

First non-insect animal the whole trip, right above Heart Lake

The crowd at Heart Lake was huge. There must have been fifty people in the area around the lake alone. No wonder I hadn’t seen a single bear the entire trip till now! Why go out hunting and gathering deep within the Bailey’s when you can just hang out at the grocery store at Sol Duc Park?

Huge crowd at Heart Lake, glad to have taken the road less traveled by

I took too long at the lake: rehydrating, eating lunch, snack, and dinner. I’m sure I was grinning from ear to ear thinking about what I had experienced over the past three days. Knowing I would not make it out before dark, I put new batteries in the headlamp and made haste down the Sol Duc trail. Two miles down the Sol Duc River Trail my feet ran out of steam. My pace was slowed substantially for the first time as I was forced to stop every hour to cool my feet in the river before plodding on. In full on zombie mode I labored down the trail.

The long walk to the car down the Sol Duc

Finally at 10:15 pm I walked out onto the Sol Duc trailhead parking lot. There was my car! Dale and his buddies had turned around at the Catwalk just a couple of days into their attempt, deciding to give it a shot again next year after more conditioning and after significantly lightening their packs. Him and his wife had brought the guys home, and then turned around to drive all the way back to move my car from Whiskey Bend to where it sat in front of me now. Thank you, Dale!

My car!

I did it!

It had taken me 3 days, 7 hours to complete the traverse. No records broken I’m sure, but I think it was the fastest I could have pulled it off. I might have knocked a few hours off by avoiding the Cream Lake hiatus, but it’s probably unlikely that anyone doing this route for the first time won’t get off track at least once. If it weren’t Cream Lake, it would have been something else. AFTERTHOUGHTS Some aspects that made for such a great journey were beyond my control. The most glaring aspect being the perfect weather I enjoyed. The other was making the traverse from south to north. My only reason for doing so was to cross another party for a car swap. As it ends up, however, my direction ended up being the easier direction (in my opinion). I truly believe the south to north direction is by far the better way to execute the route, with the most glaring reason being the ridiculous amount of downclimbing required when travelling from the north. One major disadvantage of travelling from south to north, however, is the possibility of less experienced sojourners getting in over their heads. I could imagine that many less experienced individuals would have no problem with the Southern Bailey’s, only to stall at the sight of the climbing difficulties, or get lost due to the navigational challenges that Northern Bailey’s will present. Although some of the most critical aspects of my trip were beyond my control, or coincidental, some of the successes were the result of following through on goals I have had for years and continually put off. Completely committing to the ultralight philosophy is the greatest decision I have ever made in hiking. Now that I have done it, I cannot believe I did not do it sooner. It took months of planning, research, and most importantly psychotically weighing and documenting on spreadsheets every single molecule of gear to make decisions on what made the cut.

Bailey Range Gear

Going ultralight with my gear was only half the battle in making the change. Over the past year and a half I made the decision to go ultralight with my body as well. Getting lean and fit, and losing 38 pounds in the process was the biggest move I could have made to lighten my load on the trail. The Bailey’s did not fail to deliver on expectations, the delights and difficulties ranking among the greatest in twenty years of hiking in the Olympics. The highs experienced on this journey are more than sufficient to dull the hardships faced along the way. For those who have grown to love this wilderness, the Bailey Range Traverse is the embodiment of all that the Olympics have to offer, and is the finest backcountry route in the park. I spent twenty years dreaming of making this journey, and will enjoy the memories that I have taken from it for a lifetime.

[contour5]

Cool story, Texas. I also started hiking with found gear and a serious lack of real information. (actually I grew up with the guidebooks floating around, but my family never hiked- just collected books.) Great trip report so far; please, do go on...

[silence]

looking forward to more Tex ... great storytelling ... love the background and detailed trip report .. funny we have a similar cozy we made years ago for our freezer bag meals too we have tried to go light as well but still .. with ice axe, pons, clothing (we take a light puffy and shell and extra socks and shirts), food (for two -- we've been making freezer-bag meals for a long time), stove, down bags, etc plus cameras .. we just can't get the weight down on extended trips to under 35 lbs at the start .. btw .. we just took the sawyer out this past weekend .. swapping it for our old msr ... but not liking it too much .. you really need running water to fill the bladder and thinking about late season now that isn't always ez to find .. i know .. you can fill it with a cup but that's a pain .. but yeah it's a lot lighter and with our new lighter packs and summer tent (we ended up camping on snow and froze) ... we did manage to lose some additional weight

[trestle]

Great TR, please continue.

[that.one.guy.dave]

Tex, Great write up. As I mentioned in one of your previous post my buddy and I are heading over to climb Olympus and then meet up with the Bailey Range at Blizzard Pass and head back coutner clockwise to the Hoh. I hope to get to read more of your trip report before we leave on Wednesday evening. I'm amazed by the weight of your pack. I'm trying to get mine down and my weight without food is down to 25lbs, but I just can't get through that barrier. Thanks for your write up, desciriptions, and notes. They are very helpful. Looking forward to seeing the next sections. -D

[Texaco]

c5: I guess reading about hiking is better than nothing for your fam...glad you decided to live the trail guides silence: If I can get my base weight down below 12 pounds, anyone can. You have to get super-nerdy about it, though, and break out the spreadsheet, and scale! Start by getting the big 3 (tent, pack, bag) down below 1.5 lbs each. You can do it...even with ice axe, crampons, camera, etc., I agree that the Sawyer is more of a pain, but it's worth it for the weight savings. I only use the large bags to make the most of those stagnant pools when necessary...using a cup is a great idea, though, I'll have to try that.

[Texaco]

Dave: I would say 25 lbs for that kind of a trip is not too shabby! I would definitely hit 20 lbs by the time I added helmet, 30m rope, harness, and basic crevasse rescue gear. Sounds like a cool route. Are you guys taking the Hoh Lake trail on the exit?

[that.one.guy.dave]

We'll be taking the Hoh in and out to avoid the use of two cars. I'm sure the Hoh trail is so nice that I will have to see it twice

[Magellan]

Excited to read the rest of the story.

[HumpnoocheeGirl]

Awesome pics and reporting......please continue

[Texaco]

added to first post

[mtn-mick]

Great narrative & detail. Bringing back many memories of my previous Bailey Range adventures---Keep it coming!

[Barefoot Jake]

Good to see UL in the Baileys.

[Texaco]

Yep, I agree...I'm an ultralight believer now. From day 1 I could not even feel that I had a pack on. Got a few great tips from you on gear, Jake. My back and feet thank you...

[Barefoot Jake]