Sadly, the Mountain Man was sleeping off a bender yesterday after his latest Rond-eh-voo, so he asked me to fill in for him on the latest hike. At one point this morning, he woke up enough to mumble his regards to "the little ladies in the effete east". Anyway, about that hike (and this is a long account so be patient. The best is saved for last)...
It was a rainy morning in Kirkland. I rolled out of bed before 5:30 (how does the MM do it?) and after a few necessary preparations I drove up north to a P&R where I met the rest of the hiking party at 7:00AM: 3 other men and 6 women. As the heavens continued to open we stood around in the parking lot deciding who should drive and who should ride with who. I got stuck driving with 4 ladies as passengers. We drove to Edmonds (in the pouring rain) while the leader of the hike regaled us with stories about her parrots and an old dude she used to hang out with. Her stories were entertaining but I didn't have much to add to that conversation.
We got on the ferry to Kingston as the monsoon continued. I talked to one of the other ladies in my group about my wonderful daughters and all of their exploits while she listened in open-mouthed admiration. Meanwhile the deluge came down (are you seeing a pattern here?). The hike leader started telling us how she had been leading hikes for 3 years and never had an actual rainy one. And the rain continued. We drove on to the Sequim area and got off the main highway on the way to the trailhead. Reaching the trail involved driving for about 15 miles and, since we couldn't drive more than about 15 miles per hour, scientists tell us that it might take approximately an hour the make the trip. How wrong a scientist can be.
I was driving the lead car with the second one following. The road was rather winding and, although generally in good condition, there were a few rocks in it that had rolled down the mountain and whatnot. I dodged a few of these and kept on going. At a certain point, I realized I hadn't seen the other car for awhile, so I slowed down (if that were possible) and waited for it to come in sight in my rearview mirror. It didn't. We debated whether to go on and wait at the trailhead or go back to investigate. We decided to go back.
After a mile or so, we came upon the rest of our party busily engaged in attempting a tire change after running over a sharp rock. It turned out the dude had recently replaced the wheels and couldn't get the offending article off because the tire store had not furnished him with the correct wrench. So guess who had to drive down the mountain and into Sequim so he could go to Les Schwab and get the right wrench? Righto. We did that and headed back up the mountain (slowly) while the rain continued to pour down.
Eventually, we came back to the scene where we disgorged the wrench dude who decided he had had enough and would head back home after the tire change. The rest of us in my car followed our intrepid leader and proceeded to the trailhead as the rain turned into mist. As we got out of the car (about 2 hours later than intended) the rain more or less stopped. There was much talk about how everything happened for a reason, apparently hinting that the Big Guy caused the flat tire so we could have a more pleasant hike. I held my peace.
We headed up the trail with Western Rhodedendrons on both sides (would have been great if they were in bloom) and the forest was dripping and gloomy. Very atmospheric (see the pictures on picasa). After about 3 miles on a good trail we arrived at the mine and ate lunch around 2:00PM. We saw some campers who were very friendly and directed us to the mine proper since our apparently dyslexic leader couldn't follow directions involving terms like "left" and "right". We climbed a very steep hill composed of the mine tailings and eventually came to the hole in the mountain which was the point of this exercise. We took a few pictures and came back down.
On the way back we planned to take a sidetrip to the crash site of a B17 bomber which came down in a storm in about 1950. We didn't quite make it to the bomber due to lack of time. We hightailed it back to the trailhead and arrived back at the car around 5:30 where we debooted and started back down the mountain. (Mom says to tell you that pie ditties are just coming out of the oven)
And now the true adventure began. As noted earlier the drive on the bad roads takes about an hour. Well. The first sign of trouble we saw was a search and rescue helicopter buzzing around. The second was when we got most of the way down and, at a crucial fork, the road leading home was blocked by two State Patrol cars and yellow tape was across the road. Thinking quickly, I analyzed the situation and made the determination that the other fork was a better bet. However, none of us knew where this road went.
We went on for a while, came upon another vehicle and asked the driver if he knew where in the hell we were going. It was starting to get dark by now and I really wanted to get to a main road while there was still some daylight. He said we would eventually hit the highway somewhere between Sequim and Port effing Angeles. So we continued. We drove and then drove some more.
Eventually, we seemed to see a road ahead with traffic moving at highway speeds (a good sign). As we approached the intersection we also noticed several police cars which turned on their red and blue lights as we approached. I took this as a bad sign. The police shone a spotlight at us and suggested not very politely that the driver (uh, me) stick both his hands out the window, then get out of the car and walk slowly towards them with his (uh, my) hands up!!! They also gently hinted, well OK ordered me to pull up my shirt and turn around so (I assume) they could see I was not armed. Then I had to raise my hands again and approach them SLOWLY. After another quick analysis of the situation I decided to comply. When I got to the patrol cars and no longer had the spotlight in my eyes I noted that one of the officers was holding a very large automatic weapon. They asked for my ID, wanted to know if I had any firearms in the car (I said no), if I knew the passengers (I said yes which was loosely true), and whether I had picked up anyone at any point. I said no. They said "Are you SURE?" I said yes. Right around then another car approached and started to go around our car to the highway. A cop pointed that really big gun at the windshield and shouted "STOP THE CAR!!" several times before the dimwitted driver got the message. He eventually got out with hands raised saying his family was in the car. He seemed a little upset. Anyway, eventually I was permitted to get back in the car and drive up to their checkpoint where they collected and recorded everyone's ID, got really friendly and wished us a nice trip home. Oh and they also mentioned that there had been a homicide up where we had just come from. See this for details: http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2008193200_forestservicedeath21m.html
We decided we had had enough and came straight home without stopping for dinner. Your Mommy had a nice toasted cheese sandwich waiting for me with candles! So the day ended well.
So what's been going on with you girls. Same old thing I suppose?
(legacy post from 9/21/2008)
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