We didn't bother to Google the trail or we might have come across this article in the Seattle PI which discusses the grueling elevation climb. Or this page from the WTA which identifies it as an endangered trail due to hiker safety concerns and provides what is, in our estimation, a generously inaccurate photo of what the 'improved' sections of the trail actually look like right now. But honestly Dan was so excited about taking off for some unknown unexplored land that even after learning the 'look it up' lesson I'll probably keep the info to myself the next time he picks a spot and pack emergency supplies accordingly.
We arrived at the trailhead with a few hours to go before dark and wishing I'd had a few inches more clearance on my SUV to get back down the logging road that got us there. It's a brief jaunt through a shady forest before the trail widens into an old railroad track. At this point we ran into some kids with a plastic bag of fish who let us know the top of the mountain was still covered in many feet of snowpack. This was not going to stop us, oh no.
The broad grassy and reasonably gentle elevation climb gave way to an almost-narrower-than-Dan's-pack cliff edge trail with a stunning view of one of those cute little Skagit valleys.
I don't know if this happens to other hikers (or just ones with fatigue issues) because I'm new and Dan is immune, but I am always weak as a kitten for the first hour or so and have to stop and take frequent breaks until I get my first wind. Since we were looking at something like 2300 feet of elevation gain, the breaks were even more frequent than normal and when we hit the shaded side of the mountain we slowed further as the light started to dim. As a result we didn't make it to the top that first night even though the trek is barely 4 miles. We camped in a little dell near the trail, a mossy little fairyland bowl complete with a trickling stream running through it.
There's a picture of Dan packing up the morning after our first camp which of course I didn't take a picture of. Under that log over there is where we pitched our tent.The next day we headed up the rest of the mountain. We'd left the cliff behind at this point and it was beautiful old growth rainforest with spongy sopping wet ground and many long stretches of muddy trail. I am now even more in love with my boots which were worth every penny I paid for them. Dan who prided himself on buying much less expensive boots had wet feet all weekend. Especially when we got to the snow which started about two-thirds of the way up the mountain.
We got a little off course in the snow pack but since it wasn't that cold it was pretty fun and Dodger had a great time sledding. Really, he would get a running start at a snowy hill then put his paws out ahead of him, lower his body and skid down. The only wet in my boots was snow coming in the top and I had a great time throwing snowballs at the dog. By midday we'd made it to Myrtle Lake at the top of Mt. Higgins.
I hadn't packed my extra pair of longjohns and my fleece (a mistake I won't be making again) but wrapping my down bag around me the previous evening had kept me warm, and I'd slept fine the previous night, so after much convincing I agreed to camp next to the lake. Here. In the only dry patch big enough for both our tent and a fire in the middle of the snow.
That's our REI Half-Dome 2+ (with footprint) holding up like a champ with one corner on the snow. A reasonable distance behind our tent is our fire which took Dan about two hours to light with frozen wood. I know that stuff around the clearing looks dry and dead, it is absolutely not -- everything was dripping wet. Our fire was surrounded by three snowbanks which made it extra snuggly and warm and comfortable to sit next to it that evening. But not before Dan and Dodger got some Zen time in late in the afternoon.
The next morning we woke to rain and were delighted to figure out that we can stay snuggled up in the tent and have room to boil tea under the fly with some flaps open for ventilation. On the downside everything the comments on the REI site say about the Half-Dome's fly design pouring water into your tent is true and we had to be very careful when opening said flaps for said ventilation. Around 10am I finally admitted the rain was not going to stop and we packed up and headed down the now-even-wetter-and-muddier mountain. I discovered that my 10-year-old 'waterproof' shell doesn't love me anymore and is basically a sponge to hold water close to my skin. But we made it back to the car in good time and I've never been so happy to have invested in seat warmers in all my life (and I've been very happy about it before). I also ordered trekking poles as soon as I got home. Overall: A great time. Even with the dangers and poor trail conditions the view and the old-growth forest are incredible. It was beautifully secluded, we felt like we had the whole mountain to ourselves and there's a good chance we were right. I think it'd be bug city in the full summer though and I'd probably try and visit this site again later in the fall.
Things I wish I'd taken: Rope, and those extra longjohns.
