Words by Amber Nelson, Database and Office Manager and Photos by Sarah Michel
I’ve enjoyed the outdoors since I was a kid, but my family was more RVs-and-jeeps kind of outdoorspeople rather than the carry-everything-on-your-back-for-miles outdoorspeople. But I did spend a lot of my childhood weekends out in the parks, particularly near Mount Rainier. You see, I grew up in Puyallup, on an open acre of land. To step outside our back door — on a clear day anyway — was to see Mount Rainier hovering in the distance, like you could almost reach out and touch it.
It was in my adult life that I came to hiking and backpacking. I had dipped my toes in during my early twenties, but it wasn’t until after grad school that I really got into it. It’s been seven years and I have spent nearly every Summer weekend on the trail, hiking or backpacking, with two of my best friends. During that time, we’ve all developed wish lists of hikes and backpacks we hope to do, lists much longer than we can ever hope to achieve, and the Hoh River Trail had long been on our list but… coming from Seattle… it’s just such a long drive. So it kept being a maybe next year.
But finally, we did it. We put it on the books during the winter before. Made plans to stay nearby the night before so we could be on the trail early. And it couldn’t have been more worth it.
The Hoh Rainforest, if you’ve never seen it, is definitely majestic. The trees kind of hover, old growth, covered with moss and mushrooms. The understory is lush. The air heavy with humidity. And the river, beside it all, this beautiful grey-blue. It’s the kind of hike where you just find yourself saying Wow a whole bunch.
Our plan was to start our day early and then hike in to on of the campsites between 9-12 miles in on our first day. We’re experienced backpackers, but this season had been personally busy for all of us so we hadn’t been on the trail as much as usual. We weren’t in our usual beer drinking backpacker shape, and our packs were first-day heavy. But we had all day, and weren’t really in any hurry. We took plenty of breaks, for our feet and so Sarah could take plenty of photos. And the weather couldn’t have been more accommodating – sort of cool, but not cold. We made it all the way to Lewis Meadows that first day, ravenous, ready and excited for a campfire. Especially since we wouldn’t be able to have one the next night. And the meadows were beautiful, quiet, private. Tall grass and open meadow kept our site mostly separated from the others, with the exception of a baby deer and its mom who came folicking through the field, seemingly unbothered by all the people. We saw the father, big horned, in the morning.
The next day we had reservations for the second to last camp, Elk Lake, with plans to get there, set up camp, and then day hike out to Blue Glacier and back. It was a long day and nearly all of the elevation gain for the entire trip. But it was also such a relief to drop our packs for the bulk of the day. We saw the greatest terrain variation on this part of the hike.
And then, of course, there was the ladder. I don’t know if you’ve heard of the ladder, but if you’re afraid of heights like I am, it’s worse than you’re going to think. The occasional broken step, and several that look close to joining the broken ranks, it’s frightening to put your trust in it. The rope alongside it offered very little assurance. That said, we made it down, and climbed to the moraine to the most incredible glacier views. We all found a preferred sitting rock and enjoyed a solid half hour of near silence, enjoying the view, and the light breeze. In truth, I eventually fell asleep on that rock. It was so quiet.
We eventually made our way back to camp for dinner. Normally, on a backpacking trip, we have adventure stories on an e-reader and take turns reading. We tried, for a time, but eventually settled on an early retirement from the floodgates of mosquitoes.
Our next day we had a couple choices to make. We could have a shorter day, after 11-14 mile days so far. Or we could stop at one of the campsites earlier on our journey. Back to Lewis Meadows and the family of dear? Perhaps near the Olympic guard station? Or even further? Make our last day out a short and easy day?
We decided to play it by ear. See how we feel. We have options, but all of us liked the idea of making it back to the trailhead sort of early, getting on the long road back to Seattle. And so we started this return trip, all of us a little tired. My boots, which I have loved so long, seemed to be giving me blisters in places I’d never had them before. Sarah complained that her old boots had maybe lost all support. It felt like walking on concrete. Then I slipped in a creek crossing, just stepped on a wet, slick rock, and jerked my body in the weirdest way and it didn’t feel very good. But we weren’t discouraged — everything so quiet and beautiful around us.
So we soldiered on, all the way back to Five Mile Island — a short five miles from the trailhead, a promise of about two hours of hiking the next day and back on the road by 10 am. We made dinner, and a fire, and settled around the campfire with our Raymond Chandler stories, a shift from our usual Conan. A toad came to visit, and hung out at our campsite the rest of the night. Hopping to right up beside us at the fire. For the first time through the whole trip, we stayed up together until dark, by the fire, so we could see the stars.