The Cascades have a reputation for long and brushy approaches, and the Pickets, a subrange in far northern Washington, have a particularly bad reputation in both respects. Even after escaping the dense vegetation, reaching many of the summits would feature more technical climbing than hiking. Together, these two factors have deterred most hikers from even contemplating a trip to this rugged and scenic area.
The Pickets' reputation is not entirely deserved: Whatcom Peak at the far nort
Hiking along the Ramsey Cascades trail in the Greenbrier region of the Smokies, my good friend and hiking partner Mark, froze in his tracks. “Bear!” he said in the loudest whisper he could manage. There was indeed a large, dark mass about 40 yards up the trail and was difficult to see what it was doing in the low, dappled light at the end of the day. Not sure it was a bear, we walked forward a few steps and soon discovered the large black bear wasn’t moving, but turned out to be a shadow of a ne
You’ve no doubt heard of the John Muir Trail, justly known as one of America’s premier hiking trails. Perhaps you have even hiked it (if not, put it at the top of your hiking bucket list). But the JMT is not the only long trail through the heart of the Sierra Nevada. Just 10 miles to its west, the Theodore Solomons Trail parallels the JMT. Starting at Horseshoe Meadows south of Mt. Whitney, it bears west over the Kern drainage, turns north to Mineral King, then keeps to the west sides of Sequoia
Pikes Peak soared above Colorado Springs as we drove towards the downtown area. As an ultra prominent peak, and one of the easternmost peaks in Colorado, it is easily visible for hundreds of miles on a clear day. The east face of the peak is massive, and the east face route of Pikes Peak, known as the Barr Trail, was our objective this weekend. The weather looked great except for the wind, which fortunately was coming out of the west, meaning the mountain would be our wind-block most of the trip
Reasoning that I’m not getting any younger, I decided recently that the Grand Canyon was something I needed to do before I no longer could. Such a decision, by its very nature, triggers some urgency. And “doing the Grand Canyon” meant, for me, a rim-to-rim hike.
But as I began to navigate Grand Canyon National Park’s backcountry permit system, I realized that actually hiking the hike might not be the hardest part. Obtaining the necessary permit for camping within the canyon on a multi-night
Winter had been especially harsh, even while living in the mild climate of Colorado’s Front Range. Multiple subzero nights had made me tired of the cold, longing for a warm retreat. As good as a tropical vacation with white sandy beaches sounded, I felt the need to get out and get dirty in the desert. I had backpacked into the Grand Canyon a year before in the spring of 2013, but it was an unplanned trip, and I had been very lucky, grabbing a walk-in permit for Bright Angel Campground.
If you’re traveling on California Highway 395 along the striking escarpment on the eastern side of the Sierra Nevada south of Yosemite and looking for a high-elevation hike deep in the heart of the mountains, but you only have a day or less, various roads off the main highway take you up to trailheads between 8,000 and 10,000 feet quite easily and quickly where you’re immediately immersed in stunning alpine scenery.
For example, out of the town of Bishop, you can take Highway 168 stra
November tends to be a dead zone for Colorado hikers. It's too early for skiing or even snowshoeing in the high country. But cold temps and the threat of blizzards are present even if the snow is lacking. Most backpackers sit out the month, maybe catching up on their favorite trail magazine. Not all Colorado is high country and 14er's though. Out beyond the West Elks, the Uncompahgre Plateau runs from the Utah border 60 miles southeast down to the edge of the San Juans. Elevations range from 400
Memories can be painful and happy. As I drove through the darkness past the national park boundary near Moran Junction, I reflected a bit on my last trip to the Tetons. In June 2001, my Boy Scout troop took a trip to Grand Teton and Yellowstone, and during that trip we backpacked one night up Granite Canyon. I know it was my first backpacking trip outside of Colorado and maybe my second or third backpacking trip ever. Two distinct memories pop out from that trip. I remember how beautiful the mou
Waterfalls were perhaps the first natural landform that truly fascinated me. There was something about the phenomenon of water travelling so fast, so abruptly, and so seemingly endlessly that captured my attention in a profound way. I remember being amazed by them as a child during camping trips with my parents, with Cumberland Falls in Kentucky and Fall Creek Falls in Tennessee being the ones that made the biggest impression. As a young adult, I sought out waterfalls specifically during the bac
With age comes wisdom, or so goes the old adage. But, as any observer of the world can plainly see, that’s not always true. With age certainly comes knowledge, but whether that knowledge is converted to the making of wise decisions is, so to speak, a crap shoot.
Hiking in the Grand Canyon offers an excellent example. First of all, it’s challenging business. For us to successfully descend to the bottom and return to the rim in good health, we would have to gain adequate knowledge but we'd al
I hear the wind approaching as it moves up the ridge. No other sound breaks the night's long silence, not even the rustle of a possum in the undergrowth. It is early autumn in a year of drought; perhaps the lack of water at this elevation keeps the critters away, which suits me fine. We took care to hang the bear bag high off the ground, regardless. Why tempt fate?
I drift off, awakening later to an unmistakable sound a few feet away. Zzip! Opens the tent. Zzip! Closes the tent. It is Mary,
The Paradise area (5400') sits on the southern flank of Mount Rainier National Park in the direct path of winter storms coming off the Pacific. At 5,400 feet, it receives an average of 53 feet of snowfall a year, and a snowpack at the height of winter that can exceed 15 feet. A road is maintained to the Sunrise area throughout the winter, allowing direct access for day trippers, but also those wishing to snow camp. The road closes each night at 5 PM requiring an earlier departure from Paradise t
After a weekend hike on the Manistee River Trail loop, we were left with an interesting impression. While not a true wilderness experience, the trail has a unique feel that only the Michigan backwoods seem to offer. Quiet and remote, hiking the trail feels a bit like travelling back in time. The map shows that several roads will be crossed, but none are paved or graveled. Most are nothing more than wide, almost forgotten paths through the forest that see little use. It feels as though you’re wal
Something is evoked in people when they envision hiking in the Southwestern United States. The unique and remote terrain triggers that wanderlust for exploration in remote and untouched places that few travel. There is that excitement and fear of the terrain and elements mixed with the calm and clarity of the scenery. In the late 90s, two men who had a great affinity for the Southwest, Mike Coronella and Joe Mitchell, wanted to do something that would encourage more to venture to those hard to r
I turned up the heat in the car at the trailhead. It was a chilly, near freezing November morning as we finished getting our gear ready. There was a sense of excitement. As I hoisted my pack, I could feel the not-so-gentle protrusion of the solid kitchen frying pan in my back. I knew it would be worth it. I carefully left my key in the car in the prearranged location, hoping that the arranged transportation would deliver it to the end of the trail as planned.
There were three of us: a good
The snow began to fly even before I put on my hiking shoes, but wasn’t this still August? It was, but any mountain range worth its salt was going to have snowfall in August, and this seemed to be the norm for me backpacking in Wyoming. Besides, I’d rather have snow than rain any day, and these colder temps meant only one thing: the death to millions of mosquitoes!
Rugged terrain and a scenic waterfall in the Bighorn Mountains.
A Backpacking Loop in the Cloud Peak Wilderness
The Timberline Trail is one of the classic trails in America and is classified as a National Historic Trail. It was designed in the 1930s primarily by the Civilian Conservation Core. For about forty miles the trail circumnavigates Mount Hood, the highest mountain in Oregon at 11,250 feet. Staying near treeline, a hiker on this trail will experience lush forest, wildflower meadows, rugged canyons with glacial fed streams, and view after view of Mount Hood.
Driving nearly 2 hours throug
In this article, I’ll describe a beautiful hike that traverses both natural diversity and historical significance. This is a great candidate for a shuttle hike for a somewhat leisurely decent into a beautiful creek-side trek. The perfect day for me would be to camp with your hiking buddy at the Elkmont Campground. Get your coffee brewing good and early, leave one vehicle at the Little River Trailhead about a mile from your campsite, then head up 441 to catch the sunrise from Clingmans Dome. At 6
In 1996, when I was 22, my boyfriend, Curry, and I set off on the 471-mile Colorado Trail. Over nine grueling, awe-inspiring, and life-changing weeks, we hiked most of the way from Denver to Durango, only to be snowed out 60 miles before the finish by an October blizzard. Three years later, we returned to hike the final segment on our honeymoon.
In 2016, exactly twenty years after we started that first CT hike, we hiked it again, this time with our three sons: Milo, age 15, and the twins, Z
It’s a land of seemingly infinite slickrock and canyons, anchored by the Escalante River and its tributaries. The landscape’s intense colors are dominated by red and ivory sandstone and accented by brilliant green cottonwoods and willows along the waterways. In the deep slot canyons, the reds take on shades unimagined…maroon, purple, and indigo. Easy it’s not. Exceptional, it is, and worth every ounce of effort for the experience.
Within the massive Grand Staircase-Escalante National
Tromping to the beat of my trekking poles’ clickety-clack against trailside stones, I notice perched on a low boulder ten feet away a yellow-bellied marmot, slothful and only superficially interested in the approach of my dad and I. Nozzle pointed heavenward, sniffing our advance, the marmot scuttles under his rock as we pass, unhurried, only to reemerge as soon as we hike several paces beyond. Looks like a giant hamster coated in grizzled cinnamon with a gold spackle gut. I snap a picture.
The rock looms large in my headlamp as I stand, trying to gather both my wits and my hiking poles. The sun is long gone, and we are hiking in the dark along the ridge of Fourche Mountain, searching for a flat place to pitch six tents. The guidebook says there is good camping somewhere up ahead, but we’re desperate to stop and in this blackness can see very little beyond the trail’s edge.
We are section-hiking the Ouachita Trail, a 223-mile national recreation trail running west to eas
“Half of Colorado is beautiful and half of it is ugly, and the same is true for Oklahoma. But people only talk about the beautiful half of Colorado and the ugly half of Oklahoma.”
Our friend, Steve, said this as we dined together in downtown Aspen, and he is a man who knows, as a fellow native of Oklahoma and longtime resident of Aspen, Colorado. While I think calling any of it ugly is harsh (although, understandably, if you live in Aspen everything pales by comparison), Steve has a point a
I sit alone along a flat gravel ridgeline somewhere in the Sonoran Desert’s Ajo Mountains. There are no winter clouds, no moon, and a spellbinding cacophony of tinsel stars is visible above the din of chirping, cheeping crickets. Suddenly, the distinctive roar of fighter jet engines joins the caroling chorus, aircraft whose red blinking LEDs trace somersault motions in the sky like a berserk Rudolph piloting Santa’s sleigh. A string of yellow puffs, bright as Christmas lights, trail the planes b