Day 5 (July 16, 2014)

Day 5 - As told by Tess Amen

 It’s been exactly a week since we arrived back home in Seattle, and it has definitely been a retrospective week for me. As I’ve transitioned back into “city life,” I’ve already felt caught up again in so much unnecessary hustle and bustle. Gone are the days of simplicity in the back country: waking up to the calm sounds of nature and the light filtered through our tent, cooking breakfast over a single propane burner, and packing up for another day of trekking around in an undisturbed sanctuary; free of other people and stress.

Group photo on Gray Wolf Pass, Tim Billo

I will be recounting Day 5 of our journey into Olympic National Park. I have never experienced a morning as I did on this day. As I slowly opened my eyes, I was nearly blinded by the sun eagerly greeting me through the small face hole of my sleeping bag. We awoke on Gray Wolf Pass – having slept without tents, under the stars, after witnessing the most incredible sunset I had ever seen.

No tent, no problem! Matthew Skirvin

Waking up on Gray Wolf Pass, Tim Billo

Before we headed down the pass (to make our way to our next campsite at Dose Meadows) Tim led us

Silky phacelia,Tim Billo

through a plant lesson. We identified golden rod, yarrow, alpine buckwheat, cut-leaf daisy, silky phacelia, spotted saxifrage, Davidson’s penstemon, juniper, and sub alpine fir. While we were observing the flora, we noted the adaptations that these plants have developed in order to thrive in the subalpine and alpine ecosystems. We saw that most of the plants were growing low to the ground in “cushion” like formations, often clumped together which is explained by the facilitation and succession model of plant growth (when one plant puts down roots others will follow). Tim also explained that many of the plants were perennials with big roots beneath the surface to cope with environmental pressure. The moisture stress of living on the mountains, along with extreme weather variation (anywhere from extremely cold temperatures accompanied by snow and wind, to hot and dry days) has forced the plants to develop adaptive structures to survive in this unforgiving landscape.

Spotted saxifrage, Tim Billo

Sketch of Miranda looking out at the gorgeous view of the U-shaped upper Dosewallips Valley, where we would head later that day--Tess Amen

Descending from the ridge, after our botany lesson. It was interesting to note the differences in topography from one side of the ridge to the other too. The windward slopes, where we would head later that day, are dry and meadow covered. The leeward slopes, where snow is deposited in the winter, and where we came from the day before, are steep and still snow covered. Over the years, snow and glaciers have steepened leeward slopes. Looking down from a highpoint in the ridge, we were also treated to views of the vast "sea" of forest in the lower Dosewallips, imagining what most of the Puget Trough would have looked like a little over a 100 years ago. We also spied one dying white-bark pine--this somewhat rare species has a disease, likely causing it to become rarer, and one Clark's nutcracker, a rare bird in the Olympics that depends on pine nuts.

After the plant lesson we were on our way. We made a three mile hike from Gray Wolf Pass to the Dosewallips River Valley and it was definitely not an easy one. We battled the heat, strain on knees due to the downhill elevation loss, and there was little in the way of water. After stopping for lunch and a water refill we embarked on the second half of our trek in order to get to camp.

On our way to Dose Meadows, Tim Billo

Once we arrived to our Dose Meadows campsite we were not disappointed. The meadow was absolutely beautiful, it was green and open with firs and flowers scattered on the hillside. Before Miranda and I hopped in our tent for well-deserved a nap, we spotted two marmots engaged in a scuffle on a large rock not more than one hundred feet in front of us. Even though this was probably a territorial battle, we jokingly referred to it as “aggressive hugging” for the rest of the trip.

Marmot "hugs," Anthony Dang

Jake journalling at Dose Meadows, Anthony Dang

 

Anthony journalling at Dose Meadows, Tim Billo

Once we had all carb’d up at dinner it was time for our nightly discussion – and this time we had guests! We had met Bob and his four grandsons at our campsite and invited them to our talk, which happened to be led by Yoko that night. Yoko had chosen to discuss and question us about our thoughts regarding sustainable, modern living close to nature. I thought it was was really enlightening to have Bob's contributions to the discussion, since he has been backpacking in the park since 1953. Bob told us that he does not think that the park has changed all that much since he began visiting, but he was glad that there are people like us and his grandsons that value these wild experiences - after all he said, we'll be the ones fighting to protect it in the future!

Sketch of the stag, Tess Amen

As Yoko was leading us through her discussion, a black-tail deer stag decided to start browsing right beside us. He still had velvet on his antlers and was not at all perturbed by our presence. In fact, he probably was attracted to our sweaty socks hanging on the trees! But back to the academics – Yoko’s questions about the suburbs and how close people “need” to be to nature turned into a really interactive discussion. When Bob’s grandson Matthew chimed in, I saw a proud smile emerge on Bob's face - he looked so happy to see his grandson articulating his thoughts on nature, it struck me as a really special moment. And Lucky for us, before our conversation wrapped up, we spotted a black bear uphill in the meadow! One of my favorite memories of the trip has to be seeing that bear with a flower dangling from its mouth. It reminded me of how innocent animals and nature are.

Yes he did get that close! We were sitting bear cans right in front of him, Tim Billo

After the discussion we were eager as always for some rest. But before bed Merrick, Carter, Anthony, Miranda, and I squeezed in a card game and some freeze dried ice cream – it was the perfect end to another exciting day of backpacking.

Always journalling, Tim Billo

When I think back to my time in Olympic National Park with this truly incredible group of people, so many memories come flooding back to me. It seems like we were there in another lifetime; and being back in the city feels like more than just a few hours away from our wilderness experience. The nine days we spent together were undoubtedly the some of the most challenging of my life, but they came with great reward. In closing, I’ll leave you with my reflection about our wilderness experience and what wilderness means to me from Day 8:

“Sitting here, overlooking the valley (Moose Lake being barely beyond my visibility) I’m feeling a true sense of calm. Everyday I’ve considered our reading about how true reality is the feeling and experiences that wilderness provides; as opposed to the created “reality” at home. This idea resonates with me every time I bask in a breeze that cools us while hiking in the heat, whenever I kick up snow up on the back of my calves, or the feeling of laying down on a hot rock – the sun’s energy warming my bones. These little pleasures are reality, they remind you that you can still be in touch with primal pleasures even in our very much civilized, industrialized, and complicated way of life.

I know I won’t be this deep in wilderness for a long time, but I hope these revelations will stick with me when I go home. Out here you don’t sweat the small stuff, you embrace challenges and even seek them out, you are silly and laugh at stupid things, you feel connected to your companions and especially connected to this earth.

There’s no way to duplicate what I’ve learned out here anywhere else, and I know that I’ll always look back on this adventure fondly – recalling how I teetered on the side of a moraine, got tears in my eyes thinking of how much I missed my family, listened to the alert chirps of marmots and playfully whistled back, or how I could turn three hundred and sixty degrees and see nothing but breathtaking, unaltered earth – simply existing, simply dying, and simply offering itself to us.

I’ve never felt such a supreme gratefulness towards the land before, and I hope to always be filled with wonder when I look out at something as infinitely unknown and undisturbed as this. Thank you Olympic National Park, thank you Tim Billow, thank you to my classmates and now close friends, and thank you Mother Nature for giving me this once in a lifetime experience to live life simply and fully.”

Upon completing our 9 day journey together! Love you guys, Tim Billo