Skyline Trail Vista at Paradise Area
Tuesday, July 24
The next morning broke clear and sunny, promising better luck at Paradise. We got going early after breakfast and some hurried boot repair. I knew going into this trip that my hiking boots, which had seen a storied life of national parks and foreign climes[i], were about to give up the ghost. I figured they had one more good trip in them and I was right; the previous day I stumbled on a rock in a snow field, and the seam of my right boot tore out. Well, this is why we carry duct tape and ranger cord. A quick makeshift repair later, we set out.
Field Repair – Ranger Cord!, Dew on Fungi
Our drive back to Paradise was remarkably different in the early morning light and clear skies than it had been the day before. Rainier was stark against a clear blue sky, giving a completely different perspective to the terrain. What had seemed like towering ridges and vast spaces were dwarfed by Rainier’s bulk. When we got up to Paradise, it was already getting a little crowded so we set out hiking immediately. Mountaineering parties were already assembling with all their gear in the parking lot, and a lot of people were already on the trails. The area at Paradise is known for its vast fields of wildflowers on subalpine slopes[ii], and its dramatic views of Rainier and the surrounding landscape. Late July is usually the start of peak wildflower season, but this year things were running a little behind. Still there was a pretty dazzling array of wildflower species represented, and if they bored you, there was always the massively epic landscape laid out before you. You know, just as a backup. We took the Skyline Trail up, hiking through patches where snow drifts still covered the trail. It was warm but the breezes were cool, and even with the sun beating down[iii], it felt fantastic.
Rainier Landscape (B&W), Rainier from Skyline Trail, Mountain Daisy (Erigeron peregrinus), Broadleaf Lupine (Lupinus latifolius), Avalanche Lily (Erythronium montanum), Rainier from Paradise.
One of my great laments about my time hiking in the west, especially in Yosemite, was in failing to find a marmot. Marmots, for those of you unfamiliar, are like large subalpine woodchucks. Or, in a more current vein, they’re like honey badgers who just started caring a whole lot. These fat little balls of fur are alpine/subalpine creatures, but I had never been able to find one previously. As we were hiking up the first section of Skyline, we finally saw our first marmot further downslope. We watched it for about 15 minutes, during which time this supposedly elusive beast got so close he literally almost tripped over my shoes as he passed me. Apparently they’re a bit more common and acclimated at Rainier. We let the fellow go on his way, and had lunch a little further on, on a ridge overlooking Rainier, across one of its glaciers. Here again, our sense of perspective was challenged. What looked like a narrow ridge of gravel in the foreground, already dwarfed by Rainier, became a massive ridgeline when we noticed two tiny human forms on it (see picture with inset at the bottom of this set of pictures).
Rockscape, Skyline Trail Landscape, Hoary Marmot!, Hoary Marmot posing, Rainier from Skyline Trail, Inset of previous photo to show scale.
The trail started to cut across the breadth of the slope, and the full view to the horizon opened up to us. The wildflowers weren’t peak, but the effect of massive meadowed slopes full of color was still pretty intence. Further on up the trail, having hacked through snow fields and rockfalls, we made it to the high point, which had practically 360 degree views of the surrounding area. It really was astounding. The day was clear enough that we could make out Mt. St. Helens in the distance.
Skyline Trail Landscape (panoramic), Skyline Vista, Rainier from Skyline Trail, Skyline Vista (panoramic), Kate on the Skyline Trail, Unidentified Chipmunk species (Townsends or Yellow Pine), Skyline Trail Vista, Pink Mountain Heather, Magenta Paintbrush and Lupine, Spreading Phlox, Davidson’s Penstemon.
The trail back down took us past glacial melt streams and around somewhat more precarious stretches of trail, including a rather nerve-racking short jaunt across a narrow path under a very large, very melty snow pack. The trail narrowed in places to almost a goatpath on severly angled slopes, and on one section disappeared almost entirely under a giant field of snow. The lower we got, the more casual hikers started to appear. When we told them what lay behind us, we could see them look at our boots, then to their flip flops, and silently reconsider. At the bottom of the eastern arm of the trail we ran into Myrtle Falls and were suddenly surrounded by a massive throng of tourists who had made the short, paved hike up to the falls. After the relative isolation of the higher altitudes, it was odd to get to what to us was the furthest reach of our trek, and suddenly be surrounded by people. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much time to take pictures of the iconic Myrtle Falls because of the crowd of photographers waiting to take a picture through a narrow break in the trees.
Glacial Melt Stream, Rock Striations, Golden-mantled Ground Squirrel Contemplates, Wall of Snow Pack, Skyline Trail Vista, Field of Avalanche Lily, Myrtle Falls.
We reluctantly made our way back down to the parking lot and set out toward our evening lodging. On the way we stopped at Narada Falls for a very short hike.
Narada Falls, Narada Falls Rainbow, Wildflower Path, Kate at Narada Falls, Upper Narada Falls.
Our flight out was later the next day so we planned to spend our evening on the western edge of the park, at the historic Longmire area’s National Park Inn. We got checked in and enjoyed a view of the last light of the day on Rainier from a chair on the long front porch of the Inn, while swallows and swifts[iv] swooped around overhead. After a couple days of trail food, we made reservations at the Inn’s restaurant. While it was no comparison to Yosemite’s fine dining choices[v], it was certainly better than my camp food. I had a buffalo stew with some pretty amazing blackberry cobbler for dessert. The local Rainier beer, however, left a lot to be desired.
End of the Day at the National Park Inn, Last Light on Rainier, National Park Inn by Night, Last Light on Rainier (panoramic).
I took a short walk outside afterwards, but it was too late to drive anywhere for evening light, so I got to sleep early[vi] in anticipation of a photo jaunt at dawn the next day…
[i] Sadly, they missed out on our Iceland hike. I had prepared all my gear, meticulously, for weeks in advance of that trip. Everything was laid out, checked and re-checked, down to the last detail. On the day we departed, I was ready in advance, and wasn’t even in a hurry when I packed the car…..completely missing that I had left my boot sitting on the floor while I loaded EVERYTHING ELSE AROUND THEM. The lack of boot didn’t deter me, I just felt oddly sad that for all the places these old boots had been, Iceland (arguably the most rugged and challenging hiking trip they could have faced) would not be among them.
[ii] Think “Sound of Music” with 100% less singing nuns.
[iii] Yet again, a twinge of regret at hiking through amazing scenery in the flat, hot light of midday.
[iv] Without even trying, I added two new “life” species just sitting here for five minutes.
[v] As much as I griped about the “tame” nature of Yosemite’s main public area, they had one hell of a fine dining restaurant (The Mountain Room…apparently the Awahanee Lodge also has a nice place.)
[vi] After a quick boot repair. I had made a field adjustment during our Paradise hike, and this time decided to add some toe support to my elaborate cord structure holding my boot together. Boot Mark III was an overwhelming success.