Start point

White Pass (Kracker Barrel general store), mile 2295.9

End point

Unlisted site by Chinook Pass and Highway 410, mile 2324.5

Miles hiked

28.6 trail miles, .6 road walk

Wilderness area

Snoqualmie National Forest

William O Douglas Wilderness

The day on trail

I’m a sucker for a slow morning. I slept in a little and waited for the store to open so I could get a crappy breakfast burrito. It was a great breakfast, for what it was. In other words, it’s no Tucson breakfast burrito.

Luckily the walk back to trail was less busy, but that highway sucks so much.

I was so happy to be back on trail.

I entered a new-to-me wilderness area.

And then something I never thought would happen to me did. It’s not that I didn’t think it couldn’t; it’s that I just didn’t even think of it.

I was walking along and suddenly there were incredibly painful stings on my legs. I instinctively swatted at them and ran back up trail. I surveyed the area I just was and saw some black wasps flying around. They eventually retreated into a small hole of a ground nest.

I paused a moment to sort out my situation. I walked closer to the nest, until they came out but not close enough they saw me as a threat; only until they went on alert.

I waited a few minutes for them to retreat. Then I just ran. I sprinted across the area as fast as I could with a freshly resupplied pack. They came out and they were angry, but I was gone before they oriented themselves to me. By that point, I was far enough away they didn’t see me as a threat.

I sat down and looked for my first aid kit. I couldn’t find it, which worried me. I wanted my sting stick and some Benadryl for the stings. It was hurting and I was afraid of an allergic reaction. But I couldn’t find it. I figured I’d run into someone from last night and ask if I left it there.

About a half mile up the trail, I ran into a father hiking with his teenage son. I warned them about the wasps ahead. I didn’t quite know how to describe a nondescript hole in the ground. What should I say: “look out for this small hole that’s hard to see”?

Well, I did my best. I hope the didn’t get stung.

All I can do is continue on.

And I came across this trail marker.

I really wish it was actually my 2,300d mile. But I had to skip so much. Oh well. I’ll come back.

Then I found this gigantic mushroom. It was so cool!

There was a small bridge to cross.

Another mushroom! This one looked like it was bleeding.

The forest feels so amazing today. By this time my stings weren’t hurting anymore, so that’s pretty nice.

Even better than my stings not hurting was this pika who modeled for me for a while.

I especially love the last one, where he’s all puffed up.

There was a sign that was so far gone, it was completely indiscernible.

A marked up blaze gave an oddly comforting message.

I have no idea which mountain this is, but the view was gorgeous, even with the smoke. It might be Tahoma.

A sign oriented me to where I was: getting closer:

I took a break here and ran into Slaphappy. I asked if he saw my first aid kit, and he hadn’t.

There was a boardwalk over a fragile area.

And another vista. This one didn’t have a singular mountain feature, but I still loved it.

I was enjoying the trail winding and wrapping around. It made a sharp diversion from North to East and wrapped around a lake I couldn’t see before heading North again.

A trail sign showed me both where I came from and where I was headed.

I stopped to make dinner. I knew I’d be doing some night hiking. Dinner earlier so I can just get ready for bed when I get to camp is a good move. Plus, it keeps more food smells away from my site.

Yup. It got dark.

But I was getting closer!

Also, I really love night hiking so it was totally cool.

And the night was beautiful.

After a long while, I got to the Chinook Pass overlook. I couldn’t find a true campsite, especially a flat enough area for a full tent, plus I love cowboy camping so this works out. I laid out my ground sheet and my sleeping pad on a flat enough, already used area, brushed my teeth, and crashed really, really hard.