Day 4: Eagles Roost to Mystic Camp
August 20
Mileage: 11.5
Today we were leaving misty Eagles Roost camp and heading through an iconic part of the park, Spray Park. I had very much been anticipating this day.
But before I go any further, the aroma profusely emitting from Soren’s body at this point needs mentioning. It warrants its own blog post really, but it was a smell that I hope never to experience again. Despite brand new clothing and daily reminders to apply our shared travel deodorant, and you all know teens love sharing deodorant with their mom, it failed in the face of sweat, zero attempts at any sort of bathing, and general boy hygiene. I’m really glad he could laugh about it, because it became so obnoxious that I literally made him walk in the back so as not to be downwind of such a putrid odor. You guys, it was SO bad. I can’t even describe it. Theron smelled pretty awful as well, but Soren took it to new heights.
Part of this is my fault. While I did buy the kids a few new items for the trail, namely sun shirts, all of it was synthetic. Neither had a piece of wool to their name. Me on the other hand? All wool, all the time. I smelled like roses. No joke, Soren even agreed my odor was delightful. That pinkish Icebreaker shirt up there? I wore it a full 7 of the 9 days we were on the trail. It did get a quick bath at White River, but that was only because the arm pits were so fully darkened with sweat that the fabric was becoming crusty. Gross, but not smelly.
The problem is that most of the major wool clothing companies are just not making items for kids. I’ve seen a few zip-up hoodies here and there and plenty of socks, but t-shirts? I could not find a one. And while synthetics are pretty good with wicking sweat and drying quickly, all of which are nice, they hold onto odors just as well. Too well. I feel so bad for anyone that encountered Soren’s synthetic stink-fest as we passed. No ones nose is prepared for a sudden waft of odor that pungent. Truly sorry.
Hey clothing companies….there are a lot of kids hiking these days. Could we have some more wool options? I and the poor hikers we pass on trail would appreciate it. Please and thank you.
What were we talking about? SPRAY PARK……what a magical area. It felt like leprechauns might jump out of the foliage at any moment. In many parts the dusty trail was narrow but to either side were lush, dense grasses and heaps of colorful flowers. Then it turned rocky with piles of granite and even pockets of snow. The best was that our friend Deanna, along with her buddy Modesto, met us out there to day-hike with us.
As you can imagine, with no cell service we had to go full on old-school with this type of coordination. Deanna and I made arrangements weeks in advance as to where and when to meet up, and what to do if one party was a no-show. Don’t laugh, but it was kind cool to remember that oh yes, THIS is how we used to make plans back in the day. True to Deanna’s punctual nature she showed up, right on time, and we were able to share this incredible hike with friends.
However, remember that fog that rolled in the night before? Well it was hanging on for dear life. Unfortunately most of the Rainier views were obscured during our walk, which just means we will have to come back and do this section again someday.
We ambled all the way down to Cataract Valley camp before we said good-bye to our friends, who now had to traverse quite a distance back to Mowich. Thankfully the skies were clearing up even more, so I was hopeful they were able to score better views on the return trip.
We continued onward, another 6.5 miles to go. “Adelante!” as I often repeated to the kids. Or our other mantra, “Hike!” “Hike on!” they would reply.
This was the day we started to see the glaciers. Who knew they were covered in rock and dirt debris from landslides in years past? It was INCREDIBLE to hear and see rocks breaking loose and literally tumbling down the mountainside. At one point we heard what sounded like some type of avalanche but clearly from somewhere elsewhere on the mountain. Unreal. We stopped so many times just to listen.
The clouds began to recede as we trekked higher. Passersby assured us the skies would open up within the next couple miles. Up, up, up we went. Man, listening to my Instagram stories replayed at this point is comical. I am trying to sound upbeat but it’s obvious from my audible, laborious breathing that we are tired. (See my IG page if you want to laugh and feel sorry for me). At this point we started to realize that every day is a giant drop in elevation, only to walk across a log over a silted river, and then head straight back up, swinging back and forth between 3000ft to 6000ft or higher. Insane. No wonder this trail has a reputation.
Indeed the skies eventually did open up, the sun pounding us with its rays, and we could see we were approaching Mystic Lake. Finally. The quaint trail revealed a broad meadow and eventually distant views of the sparkling water. Soren was really losing steam, his pace so slow that considerable distance was now between us. Just as the lake came into view, our sign of hope and rest, I turned around to wait for him, ready to provide him with some encouragement. As he approaches, I hear the faint inklings of a song as he trudges towards me. “My lighthouse, my lighthouse……shining in the darkness…..I will follow you.”
Oh my heart. I anticipated a foul mood, but indeed it was the opposite. Soren was content in his misery and pain, placing one foot in front of the other, comforted by his camp song, all by himself. I get teary reminiscing on this moment. The lessons you learn on the trail. We continued onward, together, our terrible off-key voices now in unison.
Arriving at Mystic Camp around 6pm, we were about the last people in. Camp choices were limited. While initially our spot did not seem ideal, being situated very close to a couple of young dudes right above us that talked SO LOUD (seriously, people) and with very little privacy, it actually came with a surprise, private trail down to the water source. SO….we stopped complaining.
Well, we stopped complaining until dinner. Oh yes, it was chewy chicken time again. Mixing the chunks into dehydrated potato packs did help get get it down, but it was still less than appetizing. Why did I pack so much chicken? I am thankful the boys found this whole debacle as hilarious as I did.
All the while I kept my eye out for our friend Carmen. I knew he was traversing the same trail this day, but I could not remember if our camps were the same or now diverged. Whelp, I did know he was set to camp at Sunrise the following day, so at the very least we could say hello again there.
We climbed into our warm sleeping bags and drifted off to sleep to the sweet sound of two “bruhs” perched in chairs right above our camp swapping dating stories.
DAY 5: MYSTIC CAMP to Sunrise camp
AUGUST 21
Mileage: 8.7
That morning as we packed up camp I caught a glimpse of our trail friend Carmen emerging from a site further down the trail. He had made it here after all. But how? When?
He lifted up his broken pole and told us his tale of a day. He had take a fall somewhere in Spray Park over some treacherous rocks, his trusty pole there to brace the impact and prevent injury. Unfortunately it snapped, and considerable time was taken there on trail to repair it. Duct tape for the win. From then on his pace was a bit slower which explained his after-dark arrival into camp. Our eyes grew wide listening to his account. While unfortunate as to the fall and the pole, as most times on trail, the events redeem themselves. A short while later he passed a group out for the day, super stoked to meet a Wonderland hiker. In fact, they were hoping all day to meet a thru-hiker and bestow on them a trail name. To make a long story short, Carmen was now “Strong Pole.” He received a trail name!
So what’s the deal with trail names? Trail names are a thing with thru-hikers. Typically given on long-distance trails such as the Pacific Crest Trail or the Appalachian Trail, they can be given on any type of trek really. Rather than remember “normal” names, often it is easier to recall a catchy trail name, especially for those spending months on trail with heaps of other hikers. The main point is that while one can technically name themselves, if they choose, a trail name is most often bestowed upon you by a fellow hiker, whether they’ve known you for 10 hours or 10 minutes. It often characterizes something about you or your adventure. In the case of Carmen, I think it symbolized not only a particular event but also his strength and perseverance.
So Carmen, err I mean Strong Pole, headed out on trail for the day, the rest of us soon following. Today was a shorter day, “only” 8.7 miles. Having day-hiked in this area before, I knew we would passing through some of the most spectacular views of Mt. Rainier up towards Sunrise. In fact, our day would take us right by Skyscraper mountain, a little jaunt we had done as a family years prior. I knew it was a relatively short spur trail with huge views, so I notified the boys first thing this was on the agenda. Soren was thrilled, as you can imagine.
We overtook several other groups on our way over, including Strong Pole. Soon we arrived at the cut off and unloaded our packs, getting ready to ascend sans luggage. As we did so, the other groups started to arrive. They unpacked chairs, those darn Zero chairs I so coveted, and set up a rest stop of sorts, taking in the soft breeze and endless views. No one else had ANY desire of adding mileage to their day, so they were slightly surprised our rag tag group was heading up. Soren was not sure why we were doing this either, but I got him moving before he could contemplate other options.
By now it feels like there is a full on audience down there as the boys and I ascend. I look down several times; there they all are, at least 15 congregated by now. Strong Pole and the two “bruhs” from our camp last night are there too. It almost feels like we are showing off, as if to say, look at me, this amazing mom and her two kids. But I remind myself, and the boys, that we decided to do this side-trip well before spectators showed up. Let’s just do what we planned to do.
We are up and back in about 30 minutes, jogging back down the last bit to hopefully return before the group disperses. While I am typically not the most social person (surprised, I know), it did become fun to chit-chat with fellow hikers and I didn’t want to miss out on greeting a few new faces.
Of course, kudos are awarded to the boys as we re-enter the gathering. We talk with a group from California; a dad with his adult daughter and some friends. We share hiking stories. He regales accounts of trudging up mountains with his daughter from a young age, and now here they are on the Wonderland. I love it.
I pass by Strong Pole lounging in his chair. He explains that the group was talking about us during our Skyscraper foray. Duly impressed with my boys and and what they saw as a mom raising two wise young men, a trail name was devised: Wise One.
I got a trail name y’all! Gosh, let’s not tear up again. Never in a million years did I imagine we would make friends on trail, let alone receive a trail name. And it was super special coming from Strong Pole, our trail friend since day two.
The group finally dispersed and we all trudge on towards Sunrise. Not only was the weather phenomenal, the views astounding, and the wildflowers bursting, BUT we were heading towards a legit visitor center which means …. snacks! We were ever so hopeful that the gift shop/snack shack would be open upon arrival.
I am disappointed in myself that no pictures were taken at Sunrise camp, but we arrived at camp in plenty of time to take the mile-ish stroll into the Sunrise visitor center to wash up at real bathrooms, dispose of garbage, and acquire snacks. They even had beer! I was not expecting that. I grabbed a beer (or two), along with plenty of fun snacks for the boys, and we practically skipped back to camp.
That evening as we prepared dinner, Strong Pole wandered over to say his good-byes. Our paths were soon diverging, and he had a SUPER long day head of him, traveling all the day down to Indian Bar camp before exiting the trail at Box Canyon the day after. He would be up and out of camp long before we awoke. We snapped a quick selfie and wished him the best. Truly a privilege to make a friend on trail AND witness others enjoying our great state. We live in a beautiful place friends.
Day 6: Sunrise Camp to White River Camp
August 22
Mileage: 3.5
I am really new to backpacking and all the lingo, but there is this thing called a “zero day.” As the name implies, it’s a zero mileage day, a rest day of sorts. Well, this was sort of our zero day. Sunrise to the White River campground, which is a car-camping site by the way with a few backpacking sites tucked in behind, was just a few miles away. It wasn’t my first choice for sites along the circuit, but that’s what was available when I originally devised this itinerary.
The advantages, however, are that this place would have full on bathrooms and running water, lots of space to run around, and even additional trails we would could pursue for day hiking if desired.
Because our mileage was so short, we truly took this as a chill day. We woke up late, ate a leisurely breakfast, and stopped in again at the Sunrise visitor center. I made the boys read all the plaques talking about volcanoes, park animals, wild flowers, etc. We even picked up Junior Ranger books that, upon completion, could be turned in for Junior Ranger badges. It was full of fun activities that we could complete over remaining days of our hike; I highly recommend snagging one of these. Theron was stoked.
While the day was short, the trudge d-o-w-n to White River was a little hard on the knees. We dropped 2100 ft steadily over 3.5 miles. No elevation gain today. The trip was quick though, and as expected, we were the first backpacking group to arrive at camp.
BUT, this camp was slightly different. As mentioned, it’s literally tucked behind the campground, like we were unwanted vagabonds or something, and unlike other backcountry camps, there were no site numbers. We picked what “looked” like a reasonable spot and got set up. We were parked and bored by 2pm.
I really shouldn’t say bored. There was actually a lot to do. We picked up our next cache. Yay for bucket #1! For starters, this one actually opened without assistance, and the dried fruit and meat sticks were tucked in there as anticipated.
The Home Depot bucket once again was well utilized. No hair washing endeavors this time, but we did make an attempt at washing laundry with camp soap. Holy moly, I never knew clothing could hold that much dirt. The camp’s gray water basin was well used that day. I was ever so hopeful this undertaking would resolve Soren’s odor issue, my main motivation at this point. Stay tuned.
Later I sat on a bench with my new supply of TJ’s scotch and worked on crossword puzzles while the boys engaged in pinecone fights and races, yes, literally races, up and down the campground road. It’s like 60-some miles of hiking thus far had no effect on their energy level.
No one was really interested in additional day hikes, so we just chilled. If you do end up at the White River campground, I hear there is a great day hike up to a glacier, AND you can even connect up with the Burroughs trail, which is one of my favorite hikes in the park. Check those out if you have a short day like us and feel up for more adventure.
Also, despite the lack of remoteness, the “nice” thing about the hiker sites is actually the location: right next to a group meeting area, complete with rows and rows of benches, ie comfortable places for us to hang out. We made dinner out there, laid our laundry out there, and gazed at the stars out there. While certainly not the most scenic of camps, we definitely made the best of it.
