“Remember now. What’s the first thing you do if you see a bear on the trail?”
“Take its picture!”
It’s a silly little ha-ha routine we do each time one of us goes hiking without the other, and it never gets old, because we are total derps.
But when it finally happened, we were on a backpacking trip together, and the photo came second. Maybe even third.
I’d just crawled into the tent and zipped myself snugly into my sleeping bag, while Tim was still outside buttoning down our campsite for the night.
Thump. Whump.
The noise came from the brush about 40 feet from our tent, and Tim walked toward it to investigate.
The perpetrator had gone at a large tree stump, probably in search of grubs. Tim locked eyes with him for a hot second, then turned toward me and said, “It’s a bear!” And that was enough commotion to make the bear rethink his position, so he started moving away at a pretty good clip, which is when Tim finally followed directions, and took a picture.
For real, y’all.
No, we do not know for sure that the bear was male. We based our assumption on information we were given at the ranger’s station when we registered for our camping permit that morning. There’d been reports of a mama bear and two cubs in the area, as well as a lone juvenile male. Guessing ours was the latter.
So that’s the introduction to our most recent backpacking trip, August 27-29, in Olympic National Park. Of the three we’ve completed this month, this one offered the most jaw-dropping scenery, and the most wildlife sightings too!
Let’s go.
Day 2: Pink path from B to C and back
Day 3: Green path from B to A
Total mileage: about 40 (As usual, Tim’s app differed from my app, and the trail map gave us yet a third total, so we’ve guesstimated. Next time, maybe we’ll go old school and use our pedometers.)
Read this for a thorough description of the trail between A & B.
Wow, it’s a wonder these birds have survived. They are slow and they seem kind of dumb, and I think a person with a quick arm could probably just reach out and grab one.
Anyone who brags about hunting them really has nothing to brag about!
And then we stepped out of the thickest part of the forest and realized immediately why it’s called Enchanted Valley.
The most recent official document I could find on the subject is here.
That’s the face I make when there’s a lot of up.
(I had to crawl across one last time.)
Way up.
Guessing my way’s easier than his was.
Click. Tap. Done.
The ranger was on her way to help a field crew of 5 Washington Conservation Corps workers pack out of the Valley.
We’d spoken to one of those kids the day before; they’d been doing trail maintenance for 6 months as part of their AmeriCorps service.
Descriptions of our other two Washington backpacking adventures:
- A virgin no longer: Emily’s first backpacking trip
- Where there’s fire, there’s smoke. A lot of smoke.
