This is my favorite photo from our trip. I just love how the white, majestic mountain seems to swirl down into luscious greens, with a hint of trail in the foreground, wildflowers in full bloom all around. And there’s Soren, almost unnoticed, unknowingly and completely blending into his surroundings. Oh my heart when I look at this picture. So many emotions.
Table of Contents
The Set-Up
Where do I even start with the Wonderland Trail? It’s as magical as everyone said it was going to be. It was also as hard. The elevation gains and losses on the daily were grueling, but they were also welcomed and enjoyed. The hard work produced joy and reward, and each day felt like a gift when we set up camp and reflected.
But before I get all sappy, let’s start by setting the scene months prior. As I hinted in previous posts, Jason was planning to join us on this trip. He knew as well as I did that this was a special opportunity, and as Washington hikers, a right of passage of sorts. Unfortunately, it just wasn’t to be.
As a new business owner of two years, taking that amount time off became increasingly unrealistic. I mean honestly, it’s a privilege to slip out of the world for a full week and a half, without ability to check email, make phone calls, etc. I get how fortunate I am and how supportive my hubby is of what is for me is clearly a mid-life crisis.
In any case, I realized I would have to do this hike on my own, and deep down I KNEW I could do this hike on my own. It’s almost as if we’d been unknowingly preparing for this over the past 5 years. I started backpacking at the age of 40 after years of day hiking. The trips grew increasingly longer. I slowly acquired more gear. I took the boys out solo. I learned to accept being dirty and using back country toilets. At 44 years old my knees are still strong. Yes, I could do this.
Soren then threw a wrench in my plans. “I don’t want to go.” Uh, come again young man? I didn’t really think this was an option, but then again he is 13. He would be missing a week of soccer practice and LOTS of video gaming. My mid-life crisis was starting to mess with his social life. Plus, as he reported, “I hate hiking.” Oh well that’s just great.
I pressed on with my plans. I can still do this hike, I thought. Theron and I had just done a two night excursion together, and he did incredible. While realizing we were clearly competent, I could not help but think how helpful having Soren along would be and, in reality, what a great companion he is to me and his younger brother. His presence would be missed, but alas, I must let the boy make his own choices.
Fast forward to two weeks before our hike. TWO weeks before. “Mom, I’ll go on the hike.” Uh huh, I thought. I wondered what was prompting this sudden reversal. He continued to insist, however.
I then had a flashback to just a few weeks prior, when a friend was bowing out of soccer camp because it was “too competitive.” Soren counseled him, that sometimes you have to face hard things that you don’t necessarily enjoy … because you grow. Those words came back to him. He knew he had to hike. I grinned inside and accepted his change of heart.
Thankfully, I was still sorting the food so there was plenty of time to adjust the ratios. There was just enough time to get him a new pack and shoes, both of which he had outgrown. Clearly we would have done this weeks if not months prior, but we are dealing with a teen here. I was just happy he was going. I’d deal with pack issues and potential blisters on the trail. Moleskin, check.
So you already know how we prepared. Let’s dive into hiking the Wonderland Trail.
Pre-Trip: Cougar Rock Campground
If you read my previous post, you know that we had some permit issues to, ahem, adjust. Making sure we could complete the circuit caused me mild stress for months, but I knew getting there early, the day before, was likely a solid way to get this resolved.
To accomplish this, I booked a site at the Cougar Rock Campground. This allowed us wake up early at home, hit the Carbon River ranger station before 7am, drive our food all over the frickin’ mountain, and then have a place to camp close to our starting point, Longmire. Brilliant, eh?
Packs were ready and waiting at the door, and we hit the road before 6am on Tuesday, the 16th. Thanks to my, let’s say, efficient driving, we got to Carbon River right at 7am, a good half hour before they opened. I know I advised getting there far earlier so as to be first in line, but that’s actually more for Sunrise and Longmire, the more popular permit stations.
Carbon River was a ghost town. We were in and out by 7:45am, permit in hand and cache bucket #1 deposited. As we left there was still not a single person there. It’s my secret permit spot. Don’t tell anyone.
Next up, pit stop in Enumclaw to acquire rain ponchos. Why rain ponchos? Because dang Soren forgot his rain coat. Remember what I said about rain gear? Rule of thumb: if you don’t bring a rain coat, it will rain.
Once rain poncho was acquired along with a few snacks from Starbucks, we took a very long but lovely drive up and around Rainier to the White River Campground. Once second cache bucket was dropped, we headed down and back through to Cougar Rock Campground, just past Longmire.
While it was several hours of driving, the day was gorgeous and we jammed to fun beats most of the day. “Ok….. ok….. alright…….it’s about damn time.” Thank you Lizzo.
Cougar Rock Campground is so fun y’all! These sites book up months in advance, but I kept stalking the website until a coveted spot revealed itself. The boys had fun goofing off, mostly by hurling pine cones at one another and driving me nuts. A quick trip to the Longmire gift shop helped pass the time.
We even took a short hike on what we didn’t realize was part of the Wonderland Trail, up to Carter Falls. Fun note, this quick impromptu hike is where I actually tested a new pair of shoes and made a last minute decision on what would be my footwear for the entire trip.
Believe me, I knew this was pushing my luck, and I would never recommend choosing footwear without solid test hikes, but I literally could not decide between this pair of Tevas and the Topo trail runners ….. and there was so little testing time before our trip. Like my bag, I feel like I tried on every shoe possible over the prior months and nothing was quite right, and I knew my old shoes were not up to the task. After the falls hike, Topo was out. Teva, you made the cut. Let’s lace up.
Then it was chili, hot chocolate, a crossword puzzle, and nighty night.
DAY 1: Longmire to S Puyallup River Camp
August 17th / Mileage: 12.3
So much anticipation for this day! We took our time packing up and drove out to Longmire, around 9am. It felt so weird leaving my car in a parking lot for 9 whole days, but we loaded our bags stuffed with gear and made our way to the trail.
There it was, the Wonderland Trail sign. It’s so hard to put into words the feeling of starting something like this, knowing you have zero idea what to anticipate but a strange feeling you will come out the other side a different person. We embarked together, one foot in front of the other.
The trail was, starting out, a trail. A trail like any other Washington trail. Dirt, rocks, pine needles, biting flies, big trees. Nothing spectacular. A few hours in, still getting used to my shoes and heavy pack, I was questioning why this trail was so renowned. I doubted we would do this trail again. It’s a trail. And my feet hurt.
To further my annoyance, Soren had found this giant stick at Cougar Rock and he declared he would be taking said stick on the entire trek. I was thrilled. We get to babysit an enormous stick for 93 miles. But as the day wore on it became rather cute, and even hilarious, as it caught on various branches and low hanging foliage. At some point in the day I gave Soren the unofficial trail name, High Clearance. You can faintly see Soren’s “Wonder Stick” in the pics below.
The day continued. We passed through an area called Indian Henry’s hunting grounds. It was breathtaking. There were views of Rainier and small violet-colored butterflies that liked to congregate right on the trail and take flight just as your feet scuffled by.
As we lumbered through, an older gentlemen stopped us, inquired about our trip, and said he was from Maryland. He looked at me, looked at my boys, and gave them advice I’d think about every day on our trek.
“Look at this. Appreciate all this beauty you get to experience. And enjoy every moment you get with your mom. I miss mine every day.”
But even as we rounded what I now look back on as astounding views and gorgeous terrain, I was still doubting this experience. Certain sections were long and rocky. Everything started going up, up, up. Theron was in tears. Some sweets and a hug improved his demeanor.
Then SOREN was in tears. He was frustrated with himself for agreeing to this madness, possibly spiraling into a state of trail-shock (is that a thing?), and he wanted to go home.
Twelve miles is a rough first day for anyone, let alone a kid. I did my best to encourage him while subtly hinting that we really needed to pick up our pace. Still lingering in the back most of the way, eventually I heard the ever so slight melody of a song. He was singing Bible camp tunes to force his brain to carry onward.
“My lighthouse….my lighthouse. Shining in the dark, I will follow you…….”
Then our water started to run low. Ah ha, the app I thought. I checked Far Out. Two mediocre water sources ahead; I promised them a refill was not far off. After what seemed like hours (it was 20 minutes), the first water source appeared. It was barely a trickle.
Ok, ok, we have a second option. But same situation. Ugh, the frustration. My throat was clenching up. There was a third, another mile down the trail, right by our camp. We won’t die, I reasoned….onward we go.
Thankfully the boys’ mood had perked up by this point, mostly due to sugar, and so we cruised along with no further issue. The third water source was ample and flowing, and we were able to fill all our receptacles for camp.
By 7pm we reached camp. Yeah, with stopping for breaks and lunch, a few tear sessions, and views, it was a nine and a half hour trek getting there. The timing made me a bit nervous, but there was plenty of light left in the day. The camp itself was very wooded, but it was nicely situated and comfortable. We easily set up camp and set about making dinner.
So dinner. Remember all that food planning I talked about? Well part of that involved acquiring a food dehydrator months ago. Who knew drying fruit would be so rewarding? I was a drying maniac. That machine was constantly humming in our basement. Peaches, nectarines, pears, banana, apples, chicken. We did not lack for fiber on this trip. But chicken, you say? Let me explain.
There are blogs aplenty that discuss how to make your own dehydrated camp meals. Typically you cook something in advance, say chili, spread it out on a sheet, and dry. Crumble and place into a baggie = dinner!
Why not dehydrate protein, I reasoned, just like beef jerkey? Blogs suggested this worked. So I cooked up some diced chicken and dried the heck out of it. Top Ramen + dehydrated veggies + dehydrated chicken = cheap meal that isn’t Mountain House. Look at me getting all crafty.
Probably, no almost surely, I missed a step in all that. My dehydrated chicken did not exactly wish to rehydrate to a form that was, let’s say, desirable. The best I could get was a semi-hard chunk of dried meat that was chewy and tasteless. While I honestly meant to check this before we left, similar to a few other pieces of my planning, I ran low on time.
So there we were, after nine and a half hours of hiking, eating chewy, cardboard chicken mixed into ramen noodles as the sun was setting. I just thanked the Lord it was still edible. Thank goodness I don’t have picky eaters.
After our sad meal Soren dutifully packed up the food and from here on out, became our official “bear pole hanger person.” It’s actually quite tough wielding a heavy bag on a long stick and carefully attempting to latch it on just the right hook a million feet off the ground.
Before sealing up the bag, I noticed a smidge of wetness and a slightly fermented aroma. Oh gosh, what the heck? No good, no good. I plunged my hand deep within the bowels of the bag, sensed more dampness, panicked, and eventually came up with a small, empty plastic container.
Minutes before, that container held several ounces of Trader Joes best $20 Scotch, sealed up with a little twist-off top. An ounce was consumed at camp, but the rest had unfortunately crept out of that stupid little twist top (which was fully clamped down, by the way), and dispersed itself throughout our food bag.
THANKFULLY the bag only contained sealed items which were easily wiped off, and also thankfully, as I reassured Soren, alcohol dries quickly. We aired the bag out the next morning and it was dry in no time. Problem solved, except for my lack of Scotch. And the slightly fermented smell that lingered in that bag for days.
The next morning we awoke to a deer bounding through our camp. She was quite curious of all us campers and made the rounds a few times. We prepared breakfast (Kodiak oatmeal packs with PB powder), used the ever pleasant backcountry toilet, which coincidentally had the best view of lava columns I think we saw on our whole trip, and headed out for day two.
Hiking note: If you stay at S Puyallup River camp or just hike by, take the trail to the bathroom to see the columns. I should have taken a photo, but it was day 1 y’all. I didn’t realize how special they were until later, when I saw those exact lava columns on another person’s blog, AND I noticed they were specifically called out on certain maps. Worth the stop.
Day 2: S Puyallup River to Golden Lakes
August 18th / Mileage 11.8
Back on trail, we knew we had another long day ahead of us. Our moods were all in a much better place and the views on this section arrived quickly. Wildflowers, open meadows, blue sky, the silhouette of mountains in the distance….ah. Ok, THIS is the Wonderland Trail. I get it.
Not too long into our trek we could see a lone hiker up in the distance. He seemed to be moving at a good clip, but I sensed we might catch up or overtake him at some point. St. Andrews Lake was just up ahead, and we could see more than a few hikers had stopped for a water break. Looked like a good rest point. The distant lone hiker was resting there too.
We ambled off the path toward the water for a quick snack and to top up our water. The lone hiker struck up a conversation. I actually don’t remember what we talked about, but we chit chatted a bit and then headed on our way while he dipped his feet in the cold water and lingered there longer.
Our paths crossed again several times on our way to Golden Lakes. Found out he had a very similar itinerary to ours for the next several campsites. Got to talking more. He drove in from Cleveland just for this hike, without a permit or plan. Just walked up to Longmire early in the morning and hoped for the best. Full circuit permit secured.
While the mileage was still long this day, the incredible views, conversing with other hikers and water pit stops helped the day pass by quickly. We kept our eyes out for wildlife, especially bears, as a couple of female hikers had warned us there were a couple spotted about a mile ahead. But alas, apart from fresh bear poo practically steaming right on the trail, we saw no other trace. Maybe for the best.
We met up with our new friend again at Golden Lakes, our campsites right across from each other. The sunset across the lake was phenomenal that evening, and we all sat by the lake’s edge, taking it all in. The feeling inside me was growing that yes, indeed, this is special hike. This is a special place. This is a special time. I need to appreciate this.
Overall Golden Lakes is a very beautiful camp spot. If you can, avoid the the site right above the bathroom. Sadly the toilet was one of the smelliest we encountered, and the aroma even wafted into our site a few times.
And apart from the dudes skinny dipping in the lake and hurriedly placing a cloth over their ding-a-ling as we unassumingly trotted down to the lake for a foot bath (seriously people, there are kids here! And no, we are not turning around, figure it out.), it was a quiet and uneventful night.
Day 3: Golden Lakes to Eagle’s Roost
August 19th / Mileage 12.2
Given we were typically going to bed so early, around 8:45pm or so as the darkness set in, we were suddenly getting up earlier as well. Somehow we hit the trail by 8am this day, possibly a new record for the VenHuizens. We are not known for being early hikers. Maybe this is changing? Insert laugh emoji; not likely.
Several miles into our day I remember hearing the most peculiar sound, like a machine … in the woods. Chainsaws! Trail workers were clearing blowdowns a few switchbacks below us, and we were ever so grateful. The less trees to navigate (over or under? over or under?) the better! We thanked them and carried on.
Before we knew it we were at Mowich Lake. You know guys, it’s the little things…..like spacious, well maintained privies. Garbage cans. Hand sanitizer in abundance.
I barely blinked and Soren was suddenly lumbering back with our food bucket. He had walked himself all the way down to the ranger station and taken it upon himself to find our cache. I love his budding independence.
Only problem? We couldn’t get the darn bucket open! Well crap. For some reason the pull tab to unleash the bucket lid just wouldn’t budge, AND….I couldn’t find our knife! I assumed it must be long lost because it was no where to be found. Double crap.
Frustrated, my eyes quickly darted around the Mowich Lake camp. Who could help us? I scanned some more, then honed in on two gentlemen who looked like they might be Wonderland hikers as well. “C’mom Theron,” I said, “I need you for sympathy support.” Within a second they had our bucket undone and we were diving into our treats.
Second problem? Yes, there’s a second problem. Cache bucket #1 appeared to be… no was, cache bucket #2. Well shit. I mixed up the buckets. Typical Danielle. All those tales of glorious treats I promised? Well, not exactly a lie, but just…..different. The soda surprise was Sprite, not root beer. NO meat sticks. NO dried fruit. LOTS of dehydrated chicken.
But there were some highlights from this unintentional mix-up. Nut Butter cookies, a rare treat and a family favorite, were carefully stashed in bucket #2 as an end-of-hike reward. Also cached was a single canned Margarita for myself, planned for the last night of our trip. Well, screw that; I guess it’s Eagle’s Roost margarita night. Thankfully the toilet paper resupply was in there as planned and still a full 3 days of food. We were all good.
I would like to interrupt this blog post to give a quick shout out to the Hungry Hiker box. Whoever thought of this was genius. A bucket is left out for unwanted food items that hikers deemed no longer need, and other hikers are free to take from there or donate their own goods. What a treasure chest!
Besides food there were things like hand sanitizer (thank you very much, I’ll take that), a brand new wash cloth (also thank you), Kodiak oatmeal packets (yes, please) and even a little baggy of lady items (double yes, please). Life saver!
Lady items, you ask? Well, we all know ladies have their time of the month, and unfortunately that might happen on the trail. It’s gross and super inconvenient. You cannot dispose of lady products in any type of privy or backcountry toilet, so you just haul it around until you find an appropriate receptacle. All fine, just an annoyance when you are not in the most hygienic of situations to begin with.
Skip this part if you don’t want to ready anymore about lady stuff, which I have affectionately coined “Lady Business.” It’s a long story, but Soren knows what Lady Business implies. He’s had FLASH in school, aka sex ed, and we aren’t really shy about bringing up those topics. It’s not like we go in full discussion mode about it, but we know that he knows about things.
So fast forward to me at the lake. Remember my greasy hair? After a quick swim, there I am, attempting to do a full on hillbilly hair wash in an orange Home Depot bucket. News flash, it’s not really working, but hey, my hair is wet and there is some semblance of feeling clean.
I stand up to dry my hair and roll it up in a towel. As I’m standing there in my wet swimsuit, Soren, sounding concerned, yells over from a rock he’s perched on over the water, “Hey mom, you are bleeding.” “I’m what?” I say. I look down. SHIT. SHIT. SHIT.
I’m mortified, but there’s no hiding what is happening here. Clearly this is not normal, but to my defense I had brought along some “new” supplies for this trip, thinking they were easier for packing. They were not up for the task. Stupid mistake.
I shoot a furtive glance over a Soren. “Lady Business,” I tried to whisper. He quickly nodded in acknowledgement and immediately avoided eye contact. At that moment, Theron comes bounding over, always the innocent. “Are you ok mom? Did you get a cut?” A this point Soren goes into full on protective mode, assuring Theron I am fine and ceasing any further questioning. I just nod, and then slink away with my towel to take care of my, err, “cut.”
In this moment I was ever so grateful for the aforementioned privy on site AND the brand-name lady items I scavenged from the hiker box, as opposed to whatever subpar travel trash I brought. Whoever put those there, THANK YOU. Like I said, it’s the little things.
Ok, done with lady stuff. Before or after this embarrassing scene, I can’t remember anymore, we see our new friend, sitting outside the ranger station enjoying some treats from his cache. We exchanged hellos once again and the sudden thought occurred to me … I don’t know his name. “Carmen,” he says. I introduce us three, and now we are all on a first name basis.
After the fun at Mowich we trodded back down to Eagle’s Roost, just a few miles down the trail. It was a heavily wooded, but beautiful little camp, with a lovely little open air out house. I wish they could all be open air; it really cuts down on the smell.
Somewhat eerily, as we set up camp, this fog started rolling in. It sort of wafted amongst the trees and began to settle in our camp, almost like we were in a creepy movie. The boys loved it.
My only worry was what this might mean for weather tomorrow as we hiked into Spray Park, which is by some accounts one of the most scenic areas in Rainier. Well, as I was coming to learn, the mountain has its own weather and its own timetable. You just gotta roll with it.
At the very least we were very excited that a friend was joining us on the trail tomorrow to do this section with us. A familiar face was certainly something to look forward to.
Dinner, however, not so much. In lieu of another meal with the nasty dehydrated chicken which I had in abundance, we opted for some Mountain House packs and called it good. I savored my warm can o’margarita while Theron built stick forts and Soren cuddled up with the Kindle. Then it was lights out. Day 3 in the books.
Well phew, that’s just 3 days of our adventure. A few minor mishaps, but nothing we couldn’t laugh about later.
Check out our next post as we continue our tales from the trail.
