Hiking buddies

It's been a rough year with the divorce, the move and all that. The two things this blog is about -- hiking and beer -- have helped get me through. My love for both have given me something to concentrate on when everything else has fallen apart.

But, as is the case in most things, it's the people associated with the activities that are most special. So here's a roll call of folks who have helped me get through. They're chiefly my hiking but also my drinking buddies.

I've known Leif Sidwell since I was 4. We've been fast friends ever since. He's always there for me -- no matter the problem or time. I've probably spent more time hiking with him than anyone else. The best trip was last summer when we spent seven days in the wild near Gunnison, Colo. It was awesome -- not nearly as awesome as Leif's beard at the time. After I move to Colorado this summer, I'm sure we'll be hauling each other around the backcountry and up 14ers. Can't wait.

Chuck Rowling has been one of my best friends since middle school. When I separated from my wife and quit my job in January, Chuck insisted I come spend a month with him in Tacoma, Wash. We went on some epic hikes -- on the Olympic Peninsula, in the caves of Mount St. Helens, on the Oregon Coast, on the flanks of Mt. Rainier. Like Leif, he's been a steadfast friend through the bad times, and I'm extremely thankful for it. I've vowed to climb Rainier, and I hope to haul Chuck up with me.

Dustin Stover -- along with Leif and Chuck -- has been a best friend since high school. Our hiking stretches back to high school excursions on the South Loup River north of Kearney. We were able to trudge around together again in Los Angeles this spring when we hiked in the hills of northwest L.A. It was an odd but cool experience. I wouldn't expect anything less from Dusty.

Josh Nichols and I have been on some epic hiking experiences. We went to college together and worked at the Daily Nebraskan student newspaper, but our friendship blossomed when I convinced him to take a reporting gig at the Grand Junction Free Press. There, we climbed our first -- and second -- 14ers together, we endured a waterless hike to see the arches near Grand Junction and we scaled Crags Crest on the Grand Mesa. I spent two weeks with him and his awesome wife KP in Montana on my road trip this winter. They showed me some cool spots up there, too.

I met Cullen Purser by chance. I'd been assigned to write a story about his furniture-making prowess. We quickly became friends, and Cullen graciously showed me many of the off-the-path spots in western Colorado. My favorite excursion with him was last fall when we backpacked on the flanks of Mount Sneffels near Ouray, Colo. I took the usual backpacking stuff. He took a coat and an umbrella. That's hardcore. He's been a great friend beyond that, always willing to listen and give honest advice. Plus he's let me sleep in his shed many nights.

(Special thanks to Jennifer Conner, Katie Perkins Nichols and Jeannine Purser for putting up with me and letting me abduct their husbands for adventures in the wild over the years. Your patience -- and friendship -- is much appreciated.)

Hoh!

Here's how I pictured Washington: Green from all the rain, lots of mountains that aren't quite as dramatic as the Rockies and rugged beaches.

What I didn't picture was mossy trees in a huge North American rain forest. But that's what I saw a whole lot of -- especially on the Olympic Peninsula's Hoh Rain Forest.

The place is surreal. Even in February, it was lush, green and humid. Hundreds of elk darted in and out of the trees as my friend Chuck and I walked along the muddy dirt trail. The Hoh River babbled mere feet from us.

Gorgeous waterfalls trickled down from the Olympic Mountains. Huge trees had fallen decades ago and stretched sometimes 100 feet along the trail. Their massive roots curled 20 feet into the air.

The 17-mile trail eventually leads to Mt. Olympus. We didn't follow it nearly that far. Instead, we stopped at 5-mile Island -- a rocky piece of land jutting out into the river.

The trail itself is a good adventure. We had to jump creeks at certain points and crawl over those big downed trees. Even though the trail wasn't too steep, it's still a strenuous 10-mile haul.

The best part: The trip back to Seattle takes you through Olympia, where you can eat at Old School Pizzeria.

The details:
Hoh Rainforest Trail, from the visitor center to 5-mile Island
Location: About 20 miles southeast of Forks, Wash.
Length: 10 miles
Beginning elevation: 200 feet
Peak elevation: 700 feet
Difficulty (out of 5): 2

King of the mountains

Mt. Rainier is an incredible sight. At 14,411 feet, it towers over Washington. It explodes from sea level and on clear days dominates the horizon.

I was fortunate enough to snowshoe on its flanks on one of those clear days in February. The experience easily ranked at or near the top of my favorite treks on my West Coast swing. And it left me infatuated with getting on top of Rainier sometime in the near future.

My friend Chuck -- a University of Washington-Tacoma political communications professor -- had never been snowshoeing before. And I really wanted to mess around on Rainier. So we chose a popular and beautiful trail for an excursion.

Reflection and Louise lakes -- two pristine mountain ponds -- are nestled in the ridges and trees to the southeast of Mt. Rainier, or Mount Tahoma, as the natives call it.

The trail started out steep just beyond a warming hut at the Narada Falls parking lot. The traverse along a sheer, exposed face had Chuck and I wondering about avalanches and our own stamina. Both worries were moot.

The trail gained a ridge with jaw-dropping views of Rainier. Seeing the mountain pop out from behind snow-covered pines almost took my breath away. It's a cliche, but it's true.

We followed the ridge to another steep section. At its crest, it quickly dove into a narrow ridge filled with more tall pines. After a short romp, the trees opened to reveal Reflection Lake. Rugged peaks circled the lake.

Another short trek would have taken us to Louise Lake, but it was late in the day, and we played it safe. The trek back to the car revealed more amazing views of Rainier.

It truly is king of the mountains in that region. And it looms large in my mind and on my list of peaks I want to summit.

The details:
Reflection Lakes via Mazama Ridge
Location: Near Mt. Rainier, 8 miles northeast of Longmire, Wash.
Length: 5 miles
Beginning elevation: 4,500 feet
Peak elevation: 5,100 feet
Difficulty (out of 5): 2

Hiking in the dark

The description of Ape Cave had me seriously interested: The 1.3-mile lava tube on the flanks of Mount St. Helens is completely dark, full of huge boulder stacks and remains a constant 42 degrees year-round.

In short, it sounded like an odd, scary, exciting experience. It didn't disappoint.

The drive to St. Helens was incredible. The road hugged a variety of reservoirs that glowed emerald on a rare clear February day. Gaps in the trees revealed sweeping views of St. Helens. It was easy to see how its peak had been blown off by its eruption 30 years ago. Still, it's a commanding, dominating presence, dwarfed only by the ghost-like peaks of Mt. Rainier and Mt. Adams on the horizon.

The entrance to the cave is just a big hole in the lava-rock ground. A staircase descends in the darkness. The Forest Service recommends bringing three sources of light -- standard headlamps, a strong flashlight and a gas lantern. Between my friend Chuck and I, we brought two headlamps and one weakish flashlight. Probably not the smartest approach, but we got by OK.

Initially, though, the darkness was unsettling. The headlamps certainly didn't light up the large dark cave. In some spots the cave was 80 feet wide and 20 feet high. In other spots it was 4 feet wide and 6 feet high.

The trail -- uneven from the spiky lava -- regularly ran into stacks of boulders. The hardened lava stacks stretched 10 to 12 feet in the air and required some pretty careful climbing. Dripping water didn't help footing much either. At one point, we had to scale an 8-foot, sheer lava wall. There were plenty of handholds, though, and it wasn't too bad.

The trail revealed one skylight, that made for a welcomed reprieve from the darkness. The trail emerged at another large hole in the lava rock. A 12-foot ladder led to the light.

A beautiful 1.3 mile, above-ground return trip featured views of St. Helens, large fields of lava boulders and a trail of gray ash. All in all, it was an unusual and memorable hike.


The details:
Trail name: Ape Cave
Location: 12 miles northeast of Cougar, Wash., in the Gifford Pinchot National Forest.
Length: 2.6 mile roundtrip (1.3 underground, 1.3 above. Shorter routes are available.)
Beginning elevation: 2,115 feet
Peak elevation: 2,115 feet
Difficulty (out of 5): 2

Mt. Zion

On a rare clear February day in Washington, I climbed Mt. Zion. It's worth the steep climb, as long as you have a stomach for sheer drop-offs.


The details:
Trail name: Mt. Zion
Location: 8 miles northwest of Quilcene, Wash., in the Olympic National Forest
Length: 4.6 mile roundtrip (including exploration of the rocky ridge just beyond the true summit)
Beginning elevation: 2,974 feet
Peak elevation: 4,274 feet
Difficulty (out of 5): 2