Rainy day in Glacier

Not many friends hike in the rain.  But Jan is one of those rare hiking buddies that I can count on to have a blast with, no matter what the trail brings.

Jan by McDonald Falls

And today, we meet the rain.  It doesn’t matter.  Jan lights up the darkness of the stormy day with her laughter.

Jan makes me do my Mary Poppins pose. 

Rain makes me want to chase waterfalls and venture deep into cedar forests to find ferns and mosses.  It’s not the dramatic Glacier that is in all the instagram feeds, but we can find the beauty in little things.

Trillium.

From Lake McDonald Lodge parking area, the Avalanche Trail parallels the Going to the Sun Road up to Avalanche.  It’s a trail I’ve never done before due to proximity to traffic.  But this early in the season, with the road closed to cars and the bikers staying away in the rain, nature’s sounds prevail.

Sounds of birds.

Raindrops.

The forest feels ancient and peaceful and timeless. It’s much more scenic then I’d imagined, but I think much of the charm is due to everything being so overwhelmingly green in the rain.

Green tunnel.

After 5.6 miles, we are at Avalanche trailhead so we turn around.  On the return trip, we take a detour on the Johns Loop over to McDonald Falls.  The water is spilling over the banks, the thundering sounds of the water are thrilling.  Jan runs out to the edge to take a video. 

Don't fall, Jan.

Clouds doing their swirling thing.

It’s not epic compared to other places in Glacier.  The only charismatic megafauna we spot is a black bear on the road on the way home.  But it’s a sweet day hike through some really majestic forest, and wonderful to see so much water and catch up with Jan in between her many adventures.

Looking down to Lake McDonald.

Date Hiked: April 24, 2016

Foot injury- Stillness among the Giants

The largest remaining grove of ancient redwoods are around Humboldt Redwoods State Park in Northern California. The Avenue of the Giants is a scenic drive through the park and redwood groves. The trees are so massive and close to the road that you totally feel like they are hugging you.

Ancient coastal redwoods towering up to 350 feet.

Coastal redwoods are the world's tallest trees, and despite my passion for big trees (which gave me my trail name of 'Hemlock') this is the first time I've seen the redwoods.  I hadn't been planning on this visit though. But I am on my fifth week of recovery after getting off the PCT for a stress fracture. Steph suggested this trip because it is one of her favorite places (Thanks Steph!) and because I would be able to get outdoors without needing to walk.

Making peace with the boot.

Stress fractures are an overuse injury caused by doing too much activity, repeatedly, with not enough rest. So now I'm on a mission to learn patience and how to rest. Not at all easy for someone whose happiest time ever was hiking 12-14 hours a day, day after day.  I love to travel, to move, to explore, and to physically push myself.  I get antsy being still. But because I'm off the trail because of this, I'd better figure things out and learn some patience, so I can have a lifetime of healthy backpacking.

Redwoods fracture too.

At the Avenue of the Giants, Steph and I drive to one of the many pullouts along the road. I slowly hobble in my boot to a big tree close to the car, stretch out on my sit pad, and let my toes breath in the air. I touch the fallen leaves, feel the trunk against my spine, listen to the birds and crickets, and settle into the stillness.

Massive.

It's been years since I've meditated but beneath these redwoods, the practice comes right back to me.  I let go of my longing to venture up the trail or down the cliff to the river. (but at first, oh how I long to go play!). I make peace with not seeing the end of the path, not looking around the next bend for a bigger and more wonderfully gnarled tree, and not turning over rocks in the river. I breathe.  I let all my thoughts go.

What if I can see everything I need to from right here? What if the tree I'm sitting against is just the right one. What if I can enjoy the stream without knowing if there are caddisfly larvae in it? What if its ok for me to just be here where I am?

I can hear traffic of the road and sense encroaching civilization.  But right now the forest is incredibly still, and bursting with life.

I lie sprawled out on the ground gazing upward at the soaring trees, my leg anchored by the heavy boot at a funny angle. Steph and I exclaim how wonderful the light is, and laugh at how child-like we feel goofing off in the woods.

Doubled over in laughter at being sprawled on the ground in my boot looking up at the trees.

I temporarily lost that which I believed defined me and the one thing I could always rely on to make me happy. My darkest fear has been loosing my ability to hike, and now that's happened. It has been like going through a divorce or loss of a loved one. But here in these redwoods, I am able to dig deep and see that the inner peace remains. Then I am truly free. Sure it's a different freedom than the one I so easily find on the trail but this is a freedom that glows within me and that external forces and circumstances can't touch. I will carry this with me when I leave this incredible place.

Picnic shelter in the Women's Grove.

Check out these awesome videos about the redwoods:
Tallest tree found in Redwood National Park (part 1) (part 2)

Congaree National Park

Congaree National Park in South Carolina has the largest remaining old growth bottomland forest remaining in the country.  The trees get so big because the area floods several times a year, bringing in nutrients, and the result is the high concentration of “champion” trees.  I visited the park for the first time this weekend on an overnight backpacking trip with my friend Susan.  We loved the impressively tall trees, gorgeous bald cypress and tupelo floodplains, and the fun off-trail opportunities.  It was remarkably different, though no less spectacular, than my other favorite spot to see big trees, Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest in North Carolina.

Tupulo and bald cypress.

Craning our necks to take in the impressive height of the trees.

After obtaining our backcountry permit, we purchased John Cely's map of the Congaree at the visitor’s center.  This map is an exceptional hand-drawn map with exquisite detail not only of the trails and the water features, but also the large trees, forest types, muck, and old roads.  A highly knowledgeable ranger showed us where to find the famous big trees in the park- some can be seen from the boardwalk and established trails, but we were surprised when ranger encouraged us to go off trail to find some more remote ones as well.  The trip became a fun bushwhacking treasure hunt!!

Cely's map with the park ranger’s color-coded annotations was priceless for exploring Congaree.

We set out to find the Harry Hampton Cypress tree, leaving the established trails to follow our map and compass.  We felt like explorers in this pristine forest. (Is this what the country looked like back in the days of John Muir or William Bartram?)  There were enough water features and fallen giants to navigate around to make it challenging, and because old growth forest is more open, it was (relatively) easy walking (compared to more mountainous areas of the southeast).  We log-walked, waded through, and leaped over “guts” (the local term for small creeks), and squished through the muck.  The rewards were solitude and the feeling of utter exhilaration at successfully arriving at our intended destinations.  After the freedom of bushwacking, it’s always a bit sad to go back to established trails.

Harry Hampton Cypress tree with 7 foot tall “knee”

After locating a few giant trees, we set our compass bearing for the Congaree River with the intention of camping along its banks.  It took us longer than we anticipated to get through some of the deeper guts.  We also spent time watching the wild pigs rooting around- fascinating to see how strong they were as they dug up the ground, leaving a wake of destruction across the forest floor.

No wet feet for us!

 As it started getting dark, we kept on bushwacking in the fading light.  We were encouraged by subtle changes in flora that indicated we were getting close to the river-  more pawpaw, a few patches of privet, a few more tangles of vines.  I kept straining my eyes ahead to see if I could spot an opening in the canopy to signal our proximity to the river.  (And I pulled opened up my new iphone and used the Gaia GPS mapping app to check our location- something new for me for my PCT plan).  And, finally, there it was, the glimmer of setting sun sparkling off the Congaree River. 

A few rain sprinkles didn’t amount to much and it was warm enough to sit out in the dark- incredibly lucky for November.  We listened to crickets and owls, and watched the glowworms for several hours after the sun went down.  The temperatures plummeted overnight but at least it cleared up for a view of the moon.

Sunrise over the Congaree River

Fall was an ideal time to visit the park because there were no mosquitoes and and the colors were gorgeous.  There were a few asters blooming and a lone lady's tresses (sorry photo didn’t turn out- please bear with me as I learn to use the camera on my iphone).

While two days allowed us to do many of the trails, Congaree is definitely a place I'd love to explore more in the future and it'd be great to go back with a canoe or kayak.

Beech providing some lovely fall color.

Trip Details
-We hiked the 2.5 mile boardwalk, Oakridge Trail (some of the largest trees were here), and Kingsnake Trails (lots of solitude).  These established trails are highly recommended, adequately blazed and signed at all junctions.  Bushwhacking was even more fun, but be sure to be come prepared with compass, navigational skills, and gaiters. 

-If you go, call ahead because several times a year the area floods so trails can be underwater or muddy. 

-Get a free permit for backcountry camping and stop by the visitor’s center to buy John Cely’s detailed map (note it is not waterproof so bring a large ziplock to keep it dry).

**Special thanks to some of the Nature Ramblers for recommending Congaree to me and for the tip about John Cely’s Map***

More big trees

On my holiday out West, I encountered a few more big trees to add to my list of favorites:

7. Torrey Pines are the rarest native pine trees and grow on the hillsides above the Pacific Ocean north of San Diego.  Torrey Pines State Reserve, California.

I'm a treehugger.

8. Fremont cottonwoods along the San Pedro River in Arizona.

These massive trees are a bit much to get your arms around.

9.  Saguaro cactus tower above the landscape of Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument in Arizona.

Despite being a bit spiny, but this one hugs me back with massive arms.

What a way to end 2010!  Happy New Year Everyone!  And a special thank you to my folks for a fantastic trip!

Big Trees of Joyce Kilmer Forest

The Joyce Kilmer memorial forest, with its massive tulip poplar trees, seems untouched and unspoiled.  But on my recent trip to this forest, I've learned a different story about these trees (for more info-- see Homan 2007):  this forest used to be dominated by even bigger trees and the trees community is even now changing dramatically.  A hundred years ago, the American chestnuts in the Joyce Kilmer forest were massive compared to these tulip poplars-  in fact some were so large that early settlers lived inside the hollowed out trees.  Now, young chestnut trees sprout from the old stumps, but rarely do they live long enough reproduce before they succumb to the chestnut blight, a fungus introduced from Asia.

On our hike though the Joyce Kilmer Wilderness, I spotted a burr on the ground beneath a grove of sprouts that looked to me like chestnut.  Having just read in the guidebook about chestnuts, I excitedly picked it up (ouch! those burrs are sharp!).  It was spiky on the outside and split in four sections, and the seed was no longer inside.  Could it really be from a fruiting American chestnut?  After I returned home, I consulted an excellent online guide to chestnut identification (link here), and this looks like the American chestnut from what I can tell.  The American Chestnut Foundation says that if you find what you think it is an American chestnut, to send them a leaf and twig for identification.  Unfortunately, I didn't take a sample this time.  The group is trying to identify and study American chestnuts in hopes to breed trees resistant to the blight for reintroduction.

Is this burr from an American chestnut?

The second largest trees in the Joyce Kilmer forest, towering almost as tall as the tulip poplars, are the hemlocks.  Sadly, the hemlocks are now mostly only dead snags, killed by the introduced hemlock woolly adelgid.  On our hike, we learned that next week (link here), the trails will be closed and the tops of the dead hemlocks will be blasted with dynamite.  This will prevent the dead trees from falling on hikers, and the idea is that the blasted-off trees will look more natural than if they used chain saws to fell the trees.  I craned my neck looking up at the huge towering hemlocks, thinking how these snags would be gone in just another week.  How many people before me had looked up at this beautiful tree over the years?  What trees will rise up to fill in the gaps in the canopy?

Ill-fated hemlock snag in Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest.

Source: Homan, Tim. 2007. Hiking Trails of the Joyce Kilmer--Slickrock and Cisco Creek Wildernesses. 3rd Edition.

Big trees

Here is a collection of photos of my favorite big trees I've visited in the last few years.  I've also added a few photos of the hikes to the trees, because they are usually found at some stunning places.

1. Sitka spruce on the coast of Oregon.  I've been visiting this same tree as long as I can remember on the coast of Oregon.  I love how the branches are shaped like giant arms.  This tree is a short distance from an incredible view of the Pacific Ocean.

2. Poplars at Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest in North Carolina.  Immense trees in a small old growth forest remnant.  This is one of the most beautiful walks because there is such a high concentration of big trees and they give the forest a primeval feel.

3. Gennett Poplar on the Bear Creek Trail in Georgia.  The second largest tree in North Georgia.

4. On the AT near Woody Gap in Georgia.  This tree cracks me up!

5. After I interviewed for a job in Fargo, North Dakota,  I drove over to Itasca State Park.  After stopping to soak my feet at the headwaters of the Mississippi river, I strolled over to this big tree, the largest red pine in Minnesota.  As luck would have it, the showy pink lady slippers were also in bloom.  It was a beautiful area... in JULY!   I'm thankful I didn't take the job, and instead ended up in Georgia.

6. Bristlecone pine.  Cedar Breaks National Monument in Utah.