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Stepping into the snow was exciting. To reach down and touch it or to kick it with the toe of our boots, sending a spray of ice upon each other was refreshing. The snow was heavily packed and became more and more like hard, crusty ice. We were following tracks previously left by another hiker. These tracks led us to a very icy patch at a much steeper place than we liked. It was there that we decided to sit down and slide the 10 or 12 feet to the rocks below instead of side stepping a hundred feet or so uphill and going around the steep places.

Brian was the first to go sliding. Short of wet pants, it was a quick way down to pick up our trail in the rocks below. With his help, stopping us before we crashed into the rocks, we each slid down the icy bank, one after another. Our shorts were soaked and stuffed like a snow cone, but it felt good.

Knowing that we needed water, we still hiked to the top of the saddle before dropping our packs. Topping the saddle we were provided vistas of the magnificent Mt Rainier to the north, Mt Adams to the south and Mt St. Helens to the west. Ives Peak obscured the view of Mt. Hood.

The melting snow on the north face of Old Snowy Mountain roared down across Packwood Glacier and spilled into the deep valley and flowed into Packwood Lake.

It felt good to drop our heavy packs. Brian, Josha, Chris and Shannon volunteered to fill our water bottles. I gave up my water filter to help with the process. Andrew, Marvin and I stayed behind as the flour young people scurried down the rocks to the pool of cold snow melt two hundred feet away. As Marvin and I dropped to the ground to lay against our packs, snacking on trail food, we talked about how important our job was to stay behind and guard the packs. This way, we felt justified in staying behind.

Soon the young folks came back up the rock hill, handing us cold water that tasted much better than “good”. After a few snacks and a short rest, we donned our packs to resume our trip.

It was mid-afternoon when we dropped off of the Old Snowy saddle and onto the upper side of the area known as Packwood Glacier.

In 1996 when Marvin and I led the Boy Scouts across this area, the glacier was very prominent. In fact, we had to be very careful to hike across the hard ice field then. We used a 50’ rope to help us stay together and positioned an adult leader as an anchor point in case someone slipped. It would have been a very fast and deadly ride to the valley below. But today the glacier has melted down and exposed rocks, over which we had to walk. The high, rocky peaks to our upper side towered above us.

We were inching our way across the ever moving rocks on a very steep slope. Andrew had listened to my lecture of being very cautious and was making certain to plant his feet on those spots less likely to slide out from under him.

We were perhaps 500 yards from the saddle when a rock slide occurred at a place we had just been walking, barely ten minutes ago. I thought about what might happen if a rock slide would occur where we were standing. It wasn’t a pretty picture because there would be no place to hide and running was not an option.

We crossed another hard packed snow field, the last of the snow we would touch on this trip. It was steeper than the last snow field and more frozen because of the strong wind that blows from the valley across the mountain face.

The sun was getting low in the western sky. We still had two or three miles of knife edge trail to hike. The trail was very narrow in this area because it crossed the very top of the mountain peaks. As treacherous as it was, it provided awesome views of Mt Rainier, Packwood Lake and wild Mountain Goats. We stopped often to snap photos of the big shaggy goats running down hill, stirring up dust clouds and kicking rocks. We watched as they grazed on the wild vegetation growing sparsely out of the dry volcanic soil or out of the rocks themselves. We viewed herds of wild goats in the Packwood Valley to the left and in the McCall Glacier Basin to the right, on a trail barely 5 feet wide; even narrower in many places. One trail marker warned riders that there was no place to pass another horse, or hiker, for a distance of ¼ mile.

All of us were getting tired when we came to a trail marker that identified the trail we would be taking tomorrow on our last day. It was called Coyote Trail, perhaps because it took off of the PCT at an angle that only a Coyote could do!

From this vantage point, we could turn around and see our campsite a mile away and below us. I pointed out to our crew the campsite and they gained a renewed energy just knowing we were close to a stopping place in today’s long day’s hike.

Shannon was like the tired horse that got a whiff of the barn. He lit out like a Jack Rabbit; like he had a purpose. We all followed close behind him. We stopped occasionally to snap photos and watch the evening sun cast a golden blow on the snowfields and glaciers of Mt Rainier.

Soon we were dropping our packs and selecting our tent sites. This was a large flat area called Elk Pass and the only place within miles that connected one valley to another. It was said to have been discovered by a herdsman several years ago looking for a way to go across the mountains with his herd.

This was the same area that Doug, Eric and I had watched a Black Bear forage on food as we backpacked from the north into the Elk Pass area. I wasn’t going to tell this bear story to my fellow hikers, however. I didn’t want them lying awake half the night wondering if they would be bear food or not. So I managed to keep that story to myself.

After setting up camp we took off down the hill to find water. It was quite a ways off but we managed. Two years ago this area was plentiful with water. Snowfields dotted the trail and the sound of rushing water from the snow melt was deafening. The flowers were bright and colorful; the entire Pass looked alive. This year, however, there were few flowers and the water was not in abundance. There was only a trickle of water on this particular evening as we searched for small pools of running water to fill our water bottles for tonight’s cooking and tomorrow’s coffee.

It was dark when we sat down to eat a hot meal. I was almost too tired to eat but managed to do my best. All of us needed the hot food to re-energize our strength. Even Andrew had run out of energy and was in bed before I knew it. He was asleep in minutes. I think I was, too.

I had a restless night, often waking to the sounds of unknown noises. The wind was gusty and the night sky was clear. At one time, I awoke and unzipped the tent so I could look at the stars. They were brilliant! A magnificent masterpiece of God’s imagination! I could not remember ever seeing this many stars before at one time. There were many “shooting stars” this night; so beautiful to watch.

....to be continued