Where the White Things Are: PCT to Shoe Lake

After bathing in Deet, I met another wilderness celebrity on Monday (August 10th). The Pacific Crest Trail was beyond dreamy. How have I lived in WA for over ten years and never run on the PCT? Words seem inadequate to describe the beauty, especially since I'm still sapped of sufficiently descriptive superlatives after last week's run on the Wonderland Trail. It has been a great summer for magical WA-exploration!

It was a quick 90 minute drive to White Pass where I picked up the trail. Somehow I didn't realize that the famous 2,650 mile Pacific Crest Trail was so close to our house! All I knew was that the BUGS were nightmarish up there at this time of year, so I studiously avoided the area during summertime. However, the deadly Deet bug spray we got for our family hike last month worked so well that I was emboldened enough to tackle another mosquito-ville.

I hit the trail just before 8am and felt rather underwhelmed. The bugs were buzzing, the trail was all uphill (in spite of running south), and the woods were washed of color in the shadow of the mountains. But the grade wasn't as steep as it could be, and the bugs weren't as bad as I expected, so I pressed onward and upward. After half an hour or so, the sun peeked through the trees and transformed the grayness into sparkly gold-and-green. My spirits lifted, right along with the somewhat relentless uphill trail. It was over an hour of steady uphill running before the trail evened out a bit and the views opened up. Getting up to the crest was worth the effort! Wildflowers and panoramic vistas galore!

My destination was Shoe Lake, listed at 7.4 miles from the trailhead. That would put me scandalously close to 15 miles round trip, but my mantras on trail runs are always "I can always walk" and "I can always turn around." I may walk every now and then, but I rarely turn around early. The siren call of meandering trails grows stronger the farther I run, and this trail was no different. The scenery kept getting better and the overall trail rating was only "moderate" (most of the other trails I've run recently have been ranked "hard"). So even though I was a little tired from the long 4 mile uphill at the beginning, it was manageable.

I arrived at Shoe Lake 7.6 miles into my run. Going that far out one way was definitely pushing my limits, especially since it was a scant six days after my rugged 12.8 mile run on the Wonderland Trail. Nevertheless, I kept jogging because that's what I do. The final quarter mile to the lake was crowded with gorgeous blue-purpley lupine and bright magenta paintbrushes, with a modest scattering of yellow-centered alpine asters. I rarely speak aloud when I'm running by myself, but when I entered the Zone of Purple, I gasped and said "WOW!" I basked in the beauty and let it fill my soul to the brim.

A light breeze picked up, and that along with the bright warm sunshine must have kept the mosquitoes at bay. Or they had already gorged themselves on Deet-flavored Shaina and were off zzzzz-ing in an bloated coma somewhere. Truth unknown. Really, though, for most of the trail I was not too bothered by the bugs. They were really only bad during the first couple of miles. I should have soaked myself in Deet a bit more thoroughly, though, because I was bitten far more than comfort allowed.

Anyways, I'm sold on the PCT! I made it back to the car, running far more than I walked. My legs were wobbly and tired, but it was a bearable-tired, not a too-steep tired. 15 miles, 2800 feet of elevation gain, 3 hours 53 minutes of run-hike time, endless wildflowers.

Gray sunless hillside, with splashes of yellow flowers.

In Stephenie Meyers' Twilight books, the vampires go to the Goat Rocks Wilderness because that's where the biggest bears are for them to hunt. I don't know if that's just an author's fabrication or if there really are lots of bears in this area, but I did feel a chill when I saw this particular sign. To my relief, I saw no bears while I was there.

This small pond was probably responsible for 90% of the mosquitoes on the trail. I paused to look at it, and was SWARMED in a horror-story style.

Sunlight on bristly pines: favorite.

Sunlight dappled forest: another fave.

Pausing for a break and a picture at the first real "view" of the trail, 70 minutes into the run. At this point I wasn't sure the trail would be much different than the uphill wooded mosquito buffet, so I was seriously considering turning back. I'm glad I didn't.

The trail swooped right next to the chair lifts of White Pass Ski area, with Mt. Rainier looking on.

The flowers were consistent through the trees, but nothing like I saw up at Rainier's Summerland last week... until suddenly they were BETTER.

The trail crested and rolled along nicely for miles up high.

PAINTBRUSHES! So vivid.

Again, one glance isn't enough to truly appreciate the floral variety and density.

Nothing like the rush of running a little cliffside rockslide trail.

Those yellow flowers seemed to grow out of the rocks.

I love how the skinny trail can be seen allllll the way along the side of this hill into the distance.

Clumps of pink mountain heather joined the ranks here and there.

I think that's Rimrock Lake tucked between those distant mountains.

The patches of snow were so tiny and dry, they may have been melting and evaporating all at once. There were no trickles or wet spots around the snow that I could see. Also, I just looked up the name of these yellow flowers and it is lame: broadleaf arnica?? How is anyone supposed to remember that? How can there be simple paintbrushes, lupine, and asters, and then confusing ole arnica? Weird name. Maybe I'll remember the name because of how much I don't like it. This summer I have had a goal to learn one new wildflower name with every excursion I take. It's nice to know what these pretties are called! (Even if some of the names are lame.)

Looking back at the first switchback in a lonnnng while: peek-a-boo, Mt. Rainier.

Lupine: the first wildflower name I learned this year.

Shoe Lake came into view a mile and a half before the trail met up with its shores. If it's supposed to be shaped like a shoe, I'd have to say it's a very wonky over-pronated Sasquatch-ish shoe, but I've already discovered that few alpine lakes have inspiring or clever names. I suppose as a runner, visiting Shoe Lake is appropriate.

Shoe Lake shimmered in the sun.

The trail wound away from the Shoe Lake view to another unexpected vista. Hello, Tahoma/Rainier. I spent some time trying to figure out which prominence on the right side of the mountain is the Panhandle that I ran to last week. It was hard to tell at this distance, but I think it's that third bump down from the top.

Evergreens are so orderly and symmetrical.

I nearly missed the turnoff of the PCT towards Shoe Lake. It branched off of a switchback and I cruised past before turning back to look at the sign.

THE POWER OF PURPLE.

I hardly knew whether to grin or weep.

Glowy-blue lake in the background, crowds of lupine scattered with paintbrushes in the foreground.

The light breeze in the pines and the lapping water made peaceful music.

Soaking it in. My phone took a tumble off the rock I propped it on right after the camera timer clicked.

Those yellow-centered asters shined up at me like happy faces.

Polka-dotted with paintbrushes.

It wasn't easy, but I propped my phone in a scrubby pine tree leaning on a rock and got a running picture for scale. I didn't know places like this existed outside of fairyland.

Time to head back the way I came. More perfect pines, backed by satisfying snowy mountains.

I learned a few extra flower names this time. Those darling little ground-hugging pale purples are phlox--another weird name, but I've heard of it before, so that makes it less weird?