South Fork Skokomish

(9-2,3,4-98)  Upper South Fork Skokomish – Six Ridge – Lake Success

Day one: Cloudless and warm all three days. I think the current trailhead is reached a mile sooner than what's detailed in Wood’s book, or shown on the tope sheet. Another ½ mile was added to this by parking alongside the entrance road because I didn’t pay the parking fee.

The first section of trail follows an old roadbed ending in a large circular area that I presume was the former trailhead. Soon passed a gorge where the Skok cuts an impressive slot in the basalt. Saw three beautiful displays of sulfur shelf on moldered logs. The bright orange was striking in the somber forest.  After entering the national park, the trail deteriorated into a faint track obliterated in places by blowdowns that slowed progress. No recent trail maintenance around here. Higher up the path intersected small meadows where I again lost the tread. The loss of time and energy pissed me off.

Huckleberries galore near so-so Sundown Lake. Nice views of Olympus and Graves Creek Valley en route to Six Ridge Pass. Rested there half an hour soaking in the sights of Three Sisters, Wonder Mountain, the Sawtooths, Rainier, Washington Ellinor, etc. About 1/3 mile down from the pass I set camp on a small bench near running water. Skeeter attack in the evening.

Day two: Dayhiked to Lake Success. Studied the glacier-polished, striated rock on the north shore of McGravey Lake. The next two miles were a physical and mental drain. For no reason I could discern, the route dips and rises – often through marshy areas – while confounding me with the same route-finding troubles of yesterday. Populating this section of ‘trail’ were squadrons of ruthless, stinging flies. They have a caramel-striped stomach, big evil bug eyes and a forked mouth protrusion. Since they're such strong flyers, swatting only delays the inevitable sting. For nearly two hours, both going and returning across this section of trail, not more than a few minutes elapsed without being hounded. At one point I dived into a thicket to evade them and rest. The worst in number and aggression was at Camp Belview. A real life plague! I felt like an old, weakened moose besieged by a pack of wolves who don’t let their victim rest or eat until he finally collapses from exhaustion. I must have timed the hatch perfectly.

The Mount Olson way trail is every hiker’s nightmare – repeated and significant elevation gains negated by corresponding losses. Two miles of hell on a shit trail. The basin holding Lake Success is a parkland of undulating heather meadows dotted with mountain hemlock. Took me a few minutes to locate the lake tucked in the NW corner of the basin. Started a bear who fled into the brush then made a series of huffing sounds that I assumed were commands to an unseen baby bear. Rejuvenating dunk in the lake; bleached snag superimposed on a powder blue sky; distant views.

By the time I returned to Six Ridge, the oppressive heat, flies and poor trail had worn me down. My condition was compounded by a splitting headache and stomach pain. Somebody, please, just shoot me. Reached camp by evening where I fell into the tent (fending off mosquitoes now) and stayed there til morning.

Day three: Still weary after yesterday’s downer. I had difficulty catching my breath on the pull back up to the pass. Couldn't take more than 10 steps at a time without stopping. Very weird and a little scary. I was in one of the most remote areas in the Olympics where any problem would be bad news. In fact, I didn’t see another person all three days – including the parking lot. As before, the mileage back to the trailhead seemed longer than that stated on maps or in books.

In all my years of hiking, I’ve never endured as much frustration and misery as on this trip. Gladly did I speed away in the truck and head for the nearest milkshake. The awful trail - with its ups and downs, blowdowns and disappearing tread, the hordes of biting flies, the heat and mediocre payoff for all the grueling work - made these three days disappointing and (hopefully) forgettable. The best part of the trip was a sense of remoteness. Maybe I'll try again during autumn.
Total distance: 34 miles