Thorp Lake Fredventure

If Wednesday + Adventure = Wedventure, then Wedventure + Friday = Fredventure. The awesome thing about word math is that it doesn't have to be quite as precise as number math. If only we knew someone named Fred! 

The kids had a day off of school on Friday, October 3rd, for teacher in-service. In our house that means Jeff has work, and the kids don't. We decided to move our weekly Wedventure to Friday so we'd have more daylight to work with. Moving it to Friday also conveniently gave my pulverized quads and hammies more recovery time after my intense Tuesday sunset run on the Wonderland Trail. Rose and I combined four words and decided to dub the outing Fredventure! 

The kids requested a fun area to play by a creek like last week's Silver Falls hike. I searched for a similar trail in a different forest, and came up with the Thorp Creek Trail outside of Cle Elum, WA. The trail ended up climbing a hill parallel to the creek, but it did take us to Thorp Lake so there was still water to play by. Since last week's hike was so idyllic, I was hoping that the kids would still be cheerful on a vastly different trail in a vastly different forest. Where the Silver Falls trail was smooth, wide, and flat, the Thorp Creek Trail was rocky, narrow, and steep. We still enjoyed beautiful old trees, but the whole forest was drier, with dozens of fallen trees and thick stumps. 

For the first 15 minutes or so of the hike, Rose was in sensory irritation hyperdrive, complaining about her shoes not feeling right (one too loose, one too tight), a bruise on her knee, and an ache in her ankle. I was not sure we'd make it to the lake! With decreasing patience, I went through the whole usual litany of motherly injunctions for her to get a grip, figure out how to deal with the discomforts, find things to enjoy rather than focusing on the scratchy/loose/tight/hurt, don't speak unless you can be positive, nothing is forcing you to be mad, you choose to be happy or sad, and finally, STOP COMPLAINING. 

After tears, huffing, whining, and several stops to fiddle with her shoelaces, Rose grew quiet for a while. I breathed deeply in relief, but still hiked along behind, wary of another outburst. Slowly, Happy Rose emerged from the teary ashes and she was close to her engaged, interested self for the rest of the hike, climbing on everything in sight and chattering away. 

Jay found a smooth walking stick at the trailhead and used it well. It made me laugh when he leaned heavily on the stick like a cane while crossing the creek at the beginning of the hike. Jay and Amber enjoyed hiking ahead and hiding, trying to scare me. After a few hides of his own, Jay would mostly watch Amber hide and then warn me when I got close to her. Amber never gave up!

My trail map said Thorp Lake was 2.5 miles up Thorp Creek Trail. It ended up being closer to a 2.75 mile climb to the lake, with 1400 feet of elevation gain, most of which was in the last 1.5 miles. We took our time on the way up, stopping to rest several times, with one long 20 minute lunch break at the halfway-there point. We only saw three or four other people on the trail, so we were able to spread out and explore comfortably.

Rose somehow managed to get four splinters in her hands during the hike up, which required long stops for removal--thank goodness for my mini pocket knife that has teeny tweezers! I didn't even know about the removable tweezers tucked in the top of the knife, but Jay showed me where they were hidden. It's so cool when my kids are able to teach me by sharing knowledge rather than those more ephemeral endurance and patience lessons they normally impart. 

While we hiked, we made plans to construct and sail some bark boats when we got to the lake. There were so many fallen trees, the ample bark scattered around the trail inspired me. 

Once we arrived at the lake, the best water shoreline access point was another half mile around the lake on a very rough overgrown path. We bushwhacked and swam our way through the undergrowth and emerged at a pleasant rocky peninsula, where we each designed a boat out of bark. Rose's piece of bark was too hard to drill a stick-mast into, so she joined forces with my ambitious triple-mast flagship. We stabbed colorful leaves on the tops of the masts as flags, and the leaf-sail of the tallest mast kept catching the light breeze and tipping over. Jay created a simply adorned large barge that sailed out of reach on the lake. He tried creating ripples to steer it back to shore by throwing rocks on the other side of the boat, but he accidentally bombed his boat instead. Amber carefully created her ship with a tiny stick mast and leaf sail. She was unwilling to let it float out of reach, so Jay built a rock-bordered harbor along the shore for her. 

Eventually we sailed our boats and headed back down the trail. The bushwhacking portion around the lake was tough this time around. We kept losing the path and plunging through thick clusters of branches and bushes. Amber was flattened to the ground by a whipping branch and started crying. We all felt tangled up and couldn't see the path. We could see the lake, though, so we weren't lost, just not on the path. I comforted Amber and we plunged onward until we found that faint path again. At last we emerged at the main lake clearing and took a rest before heading back down the trail. 

The hike back felt long, even though it was mostly downhill. Jay and Rose hiked far ahead and waited for us at the place we ate lunch, so Amber and I hiked along alone together for 20 minutes. She sang strange kindergarten songs and told me Things. It was so cute to watch her hike along and listen to her chatter. Amber is often so intent on surrendering all of her senses to experience the great outdoors that she doesn't often just chat when we're hiking. 

We made it back to the car in half of the time it took us on the way out. The total distance ended up being 6.2 miles. Not too shabby for a 5 year old, a 9 year old, and an 11 year old. (and a tired 33 year old!) We were on the trail for over four hours, including breaks and lake playtime. That plus the 4.5 hours in the car roundtrip made for quite a long day and lots of audiobook listening. We got home at 6:30pm. 

Trailhead pics!

There weren't too many fall colors among all of the pines, but the few we saw were bright flaming contrast.

Amber, checking out a narrow creek at our lunch-break-spot.

Rose had to climb along the steep wall of the creek ravine.

Someone carved a random stump-seat. Amber had already sat in it and scampered on ahead by the time I took these pictures.

Much to our relief, the final quarter mile to the lake was downhill.

Jay, throwing rocks at his barge.

Trying our best to screw in that tippy main mast!

Right when Jay snapped the picture, the main mast fell again, haha.

Our tipsy triple master bark boat took on water fast.

The Evergreen State somehow still manages some fall colors with all of that low brushy gold.

Tired Amby.

I love how much holding hands HELPS a tired kid. It was tricky to hold hands on the narrow trail, but we managed.

Amber wanted a turn carrying our backpack.