Lake Philippa

Lake Philippa

I am under the gun to finish ALL of my to-do hiking list this summer. If I feel like sharing the reasons why, I will, but for right now let me focus on one of the oldest entries on my list; Lake Philippa. This was the hardest hike I've ever done, even harder than last year's Marten Lake Adventure.

Logging Road to Loch Katrine / Lake Philippa Trails

Mysterious Lake Philippa lies between the road-accessible peers of Calligan and Loch Katrine. The deal with Philippa though, is that there is no maintained trail. Instead, one follows a "fisherman's trail" starting at about mile 1.

Beginning the Fisherman's Trail.

From there, one has to watch for trail markers. I personally got lost every 100 feet and had to learn to look closely for bits of tape or trash that marked the "actual" trail, as opposed to game trails. This can make for slow-going if you aren't used to doing it.

Trail Marker

Once the "trail" reaches the "end" of the valley, it crosses Philippa creek on some downed logs, and then the real fun begins. The trail goes straight up the side of the valley wall, sometimes at a 75 degree angle. One must use hands to climb on roots and bushes, with water and mud cascading down on you as you climb (at least during snow-melt season). Eventually the trail pops out into the sunlight and displays a cruel false summit.

False Summit: a Stickery Bowl

At this point, I had been hiking for 3.5 hours. I lay down on a log in the sun and seriously considered abandoning this quest, but I realized I'd hate myself if I did that. So I hoisted my pack and kept soldiering. Part of the "bowl" was overrun with snow and I lost the trail. I stumbled around in the stickers for an hour before finally spotting a tiny little orange stripe 60 yards away. I trudged over to it, and it was a trail marker. Whew! Found the trail again. I was so tired now that the final 1/2 mile and 400 vertical foot gain took me an hour.

Lake Philippa

I stumbled down into the campsite of a couple of guys who'd gotten there the evening before (imagine night-hiking that trail). They said that the water was too cold for fishing; they'd been fishing all morning and had no action. I inflated my trail-boat and fished for a couple of hours anyway, never touching a fish. A low rumbling signaled a large stone/snow avalanche on one of the nearby peaks; very exciting to watch.

View Larger Map

The trip down went faster than I expected, but not as fast as I hoped; it still took me 3 hours to get back to my truck. So my total hiking time was 8.5 hours. For that I was able to fish 1.5 hours with nothing to show for it.

Conclusion: The only reason that one might want to go to Philippa (unless you love a challenge) is to get away from other people. There are many, many prettier lakes nearby that are far easier (and safer) to get to. See just about any of the lakes I've written about on this blog! However, if you do go, plan on 5 hours to get to the lake and be sure you take the 10 essentials.

Lower Loch Katrine, Alpine Lakes Wilderness

Lower Loch Katrine Panorama

There's something about lakes named after women. See the August report for Lake Laura. Well this month its Loch Katrine. If she's anything like her namesake, Katrine is dark and deep and um, full of fish! If you know who either lake was named for, please share.

Self Portrait at Trailhead

Loch Katrine has been on "my list" for a long time. Took a day-cation yesterday to cross it off. The Sevylor trail boat actually fit into one of the paniers on the bike so I was able to take the small day pack. Rode the first (flat) mile, then spent the next three hours pushing the bike up the logging road. Had to park it 1/2 mile from the lake where the road becomes a boot trail.

The Island in the Lake

Arrived at the lake at 1:30pm and took some pictures over lunch. Put my feet into the water. Napped on a log in the sun for a bit -- that was a long walk! A rainbow cruised under my log as I was inflating the boat. Good sign.

Fish Cliffs

The wind gently pushed the little trail boat across the lake, allowing me to hook fish wherever there was structure. The best fish were at the far end of the lake, hanging around these cliffs, for example.

Rainbow

The fish were definitely hungry. Constant action on flies cast toward shore and slowly retrieved. Over the course of 3 hours, caught 11 rainbows mostly 10-11". Lost another dozen or more. Many seemed thin.

Fireweed on a log in the lake

Remember how the walk up took 3 hours? After I got back to my bike it took only 15 MINUTES to get back to the car. Sort of a surreal end to a nice day.

Mason Lake, Alpine Lake Wilderness

This is it. This is what I've been waiting for all year. A day when I can get away and push myself beyond my comfort zone. This is the day that I'll think about all winter long.

Mason Lake is about 30-acres: its round, its pretty and has good fish. The hike is ambitious: 2000 vertical feet of gain over three miles with a 20 pound pack.

Trailhead, almost empty

On a weekend this parking lot will be jam packed. But on a Tuesday morning, you might be the only person on the trail for hours. The first mile follows an old logging road that is dwindling to a trail.

Trail Damage

Check out the damage to the trail. Everywhere I go this year I see the destruction from last winter. The little dog is Dudley (or something) that Casey gave me to take with me on the hike. An 80 year old man in an NOAA hat passed me on a steep section of the trail. I tried to catch up to him but the wily octogenarian had TWO trekking poles and I only had one.

Looking down to views of Snoqualmie

As you gain in elevation, the views of the south fork of the Snoqualmie get better and better. That pointy thing is McLelland Butte, which I hope to climb with Casey someday. As you near the ridge you can start to see over the mountains opposite to views of mount Rainier.

With Dudley the Dog and GPS in pocket

I arrived at the lake at 2:00pm. A young couple, gosh they couldn't have been more than 22, had set up camp there. Nice kids. Good-lookin' too. They said the octogenarian had been by an hour earlier. Sheesh! :)

Mason Lake

I inflated my boat, changed my boots for sandals, and lazily floated around the lake. Aside from the occasional airliner, the only sounds were birds chirping, fish rising and that college girl laughing in the distance. There was no breeze and the sun was hot. A couple of fish took pity on me and hooked themselves on my fly. Nothing special: 11" rainbows. Here's one with a gold-ribbed hare's ear in its mouth.

Rainbow

Though I fished hard I was never able to hook up again. No matter, this trip wasn't really about the fish. Changing sandals back to boots (fresh socks, that's thinking ahead), I loaded all the gear back into the pack.

Local Wildlife

As I put my boots on and munched some trail mix one of those birds (camp robber? gray jay?) came and looked me right in the eye. On a hunch I grabbed my video camera and took this little video.

Little Mason Lake

Little Mason Lake is just a 1/3 of a mile away on an unsigned trail. I made the quick trip to take a look. The small fish jumping there will be pan-sized in 2011 :) On my way back past Mason I said goodnight to the young couple who were then kicking back in a hammock with their heads close and their legs all tangled together.

Mount Raininer the Distance

The descent back to the car from Little Mason is 4 miles. Took just about 2 hours -- plenty of time to reflect on what a great idea it was to move right next to the beautiful Alpine Lake Wilderness. I wouldn't want to live anywhere else.

Lake Laura

Looking back toward the trailhead

If you look on a map, it appears that you can drive very, very close to Lake Laura. And, in fact, with a 4 wheel drive vehicle and some chutzpah, you can! Amy, Casey and I spilled out of the truck at the trailhead into the same frustrating fogbank that has been shrouding the ALW for the last week. I'm still not very good at the "Ultralight" thing -- my daypack weighed 23 pounds.

The Best Hiking Partner I've ever had

The GPS showed a mere half-mile to the lake, but what I failed to realize was that there was 700' vertical gain to be negotiated in there. I have never seen a hike as steep as this one. For long, long sections it was more of a dangerous climb than a hike. It would not be an exaggeration to say that the slope was greater than 45 degrees for several brutal stretches.

Atop the island in the middle of the lake

The lake itself, if you can reach it without injury, is small and pretty. It sits in a little bowl, surrounded by hundred-foot cliffs on three sides. Casey and I bush-whacked our way around it stopping to cast the flyrod to rising fish. He asked to try and I let him and you know what? For the first time ever, he liked it. I tried not to get too excited about this development but praised his natural back cast and hope that a seed got planted in his mind somewhere.

Pink Flyrod Sighting

Amy fished from shore for a while, then tried to start a fire but everything up there was just WET WET WET, including Casey and I after our circum-navigation. I fished from my boat, never catching anything but I did see a 13" fish cruising the shoreline. These alpine lake fish are harder to catch than I thought they would be. Challenging!

Looking back across the lake

When we got home we were all so exhausted from the climbs and the cold that we napped and ate and napped and ate and then went to sleep. If you go: be careful -- take the established trail, not the back way like we did. I could very easily see someone falling and getting hurt on this dangerous climb.

Olallie Lake, Alpine Lake Wilderness

Talapus Lake Trail

Everything is coming together this year in my quest to be an alpine lake ninja. I acquired three critical pieces of equipment (GPS, a Trail Boat and 7pc packable flyrod). I trained all winter long so I'm in better shape than I usually am (which isn't saying much).

Talapus Lake, on the way to Olallie

Sunday was a milestone: my first ever solo backpacking / fishing trip. First ever? It's true; Amy and I have been together 17 years (basically all my adult life) so the few camping trips I've done have been with her. Or with Casey.

Here's a picture of me with my 45lb pack. 45 pounds??? Yes more on that in a minute. After a lot of thinking, I chose Olallie Lake as a destination; its close, relatively easy and I've never been there before.

Olallie

The hike itself isn't too bad. However, with a 45 pound pack the 3.5 miles and 1,100 feet of vertical gain felt like a LOT more. I was glad to get to Olallie and set that pack down. Being a summer weekend, the best camping spots at the lake were taken, but I found a pretty good one.

Claiming my campsite

After setting up camp, I inflated my trail boat and puttered around the lake. I caught fish after fish but they were all less than 6" long; resident wild rainbows.

A solitary dead tree in a field of flowers

I got wet getting out of my boat -- I'm much more careful not to pop it after last time. Cloud after cloud rolled in and my wet pants never dried. In fact, soon everything in my camp was wet with the moisture of the passing fog banks. I shivered all night in my tent.

I learned several important things on my exploratory trip. Mainly that 45lbs is too much to carry comfortably. The 3 person tent is not just too heavy (6 lbs), its also too big; it felt cavernous and cold. The two person sleeping bag is also too heavy (4 lbs) and too big.

I got home and immediately started cataloging my gear and researching lighter replacements. It appears that one can spend as much money on going lighter as they want to, but I've decided to compromise; I've spent $100 on a new tent and a new sleeping bag and that will save 5lbs on my next trip. See, I could have spent $500 to save 7lbs.

Stay tuned for more, better reports.