Haggen Daz

18 June 2005
“Haagen Daz”

To the Nisqually people she was “Tacobet,” “The place where waters begin.” To the Yakima she was “Tahoma,” “the great mountain which gives thunder and lightning.” A geriatric Salish term, “Tahoma” or Tacoma,” can mean any snow-covered peak. Loosely translated, it means “the Mountain.”

Whatever its etymology, the “round, snowy mountain” Captain George Vancouver christened for his friend and fellow British officer, Rear Admiral Peter Rainier, has become “our” Mountain. So when Washington sheds its soggy spring cloak and summer steps on stage, “Tahoma” draws us like moths to a lit lamp, exerting an irrevocable tug on our imaginations and inspiration. Hence our annual family pilgrimage and the looming omnipresence that rises isolated and immense over the Northwest landscape.

Upon our June 14 arrival to the southwest entrance of Mount Rainier National Park and the Ohanapecosh campground, we are pleasantly surprised to find: 1) below-average snowfall combined with warmer than usual temperatures have coaxed the park’s world-famous wildflowers out early this year, and 2) Haagen-Dazs (you’ll have to read further for that one :).

Herds of wildflowers graze along the serpentine coils of Stevens Canyon Road as we wind toward our first hike after setting up camp. Bright flames of paintbrush, cottony tufts of bistort, four-starred petals of white bunchberry dogwood, blue gentians and pink-belled salal nibble the asphalt. Higher up, glacier and avalanche lilies poke their yellow and white heads defiantly through thinning crusts of snow, a portiere of pastels near the Stevens Creek trailhead.

At first glance only two things stand out about the Stevens Creek trail, a little-used connector between Stevens Canyon Road and the famed Wonderland Trail: the topography and the decided lack of crowds. We encounter nary another soul nor sole as we chug over mossy foot bridges and redolent red earth through a mixed forest to a unique waterfall. Unlike most trails at Mount Rainier, this one drops down below 3,000 feet, through a fascinating forest of white-barked birch and other deciduous trees. Sword, oak, lady and maidenhair ferns and other greenery dot the forest floor, which is alive with fungi, mushrooms, and other moist-climate plants you see in a temperate rainforest. It’s like walking through a terrarium. The forest is peaceful and silent until you reach 0.5 mile, when Stevens Creek becomes audible below.

Before that, we pause to listen to the Mountain. Her symphonies are clear but subtle: chattering jays, cracking ice fields, rumbling waterfalls, moaning breezes and Laughingwater Creek, which sounds just like its name. Here eagle-eyed Nathan spots a tawny curve of brown sugared-fur with white dots hidden amongst pink wood sorrel and ferns, about eight feet off the trail. We would’ve walked right past the new fawn, but a twitching ear drew Nathan’s attention to its well-camouflaged presence.
Another mile and the trail reaches the dark, humid canyon floor where a short spur leads left down to a fenced overlook of an unnamed low-rushing falls on Stevens Creek. A short distance downstream is another falls. Another tenth of a mile up and we junction with the Wonderland Trail and a bridge over Stevens Creek, splashing and cavorting over smooth boulders. The “cardiac climb” back up the trail to the van is even worse than we feared on the way down—it’s unmercifully steep, but at least it’s short.

Speaking of which, we’ve learned that to love “our” Mountain is to accept it as it is, which means adjusting plans as necessary and toting jackets, sunscreen, water, and rain gear whenever we visit. And lots of film as well as sturdy shoes. Naturally, we can’t resist the “irrevocable tug” of another hike, a three-mile leg-stretcher up the road from Stevens Creek called the Lakes High Loop. The trail begins at Reflection Lakes. Chances are good that if you’ve seen only one photograph of the Mountain, it’s probably from Reflections Lakes, elevation 4,865 feet. The Lakes rank near the top of Rainier’s day-use hit parade, so we arrive early. But once we’re out of the parking lot, we run into just one other family of gapers from Nebraska out for a day on the trail.
The Lakes High Trail earns the Lowder “Haagen Dazs” rating. That is, if you don’t like ice cream, the Lakes High Trail will give you more enjoyment than any other favorite comfort food. (Yes, even chocolate.) So it’s unanimous:

We start on the west side of Reflection Lakes, which is deserted today but doesn’t mirror the Mountain due to “pea soup” clouds. The trail takes us across a pleasantly flat mixed forest with hide-and-seek glimpses of socked-in Rainier and the jagged Tattoosh Range to a junction with the Lakes Trail at 2.0 miles and 5,300 feet. We’re glad we stashed the rain and cold weather gear in the backpacks as we hike first through drizzle, then rain, a pelting of hail, and finally a light snow.

We pass “whu-humphing” blue grouse and panhandling chipmunks, photograph an outrageous hillside of avalanche lilies, take a gander at Artist’s Pool, a small tarn, and chug over to Faraway Rock. We are supremely disappointed that the weather has conspired against us to hide those jaw-dropping vistas of the Mountain. So we pray.

As we approach the precipitous, cliff-edge of Faraway Rock, we’re astonished to watch the clouds part and the sun dance. The skies suddenly clear as if a kind hand has rolled up the clouds and rescued the sun from gray exile. It’s 500 feet down from Faraway Rock to the lakes, but here under painfully blue skies a stunning panorama unfurls that’s better than chocolate. We can see forever (unlike our camera, whose erstwhile knack for dying at the most inopportune moments has just reared its ugly head).

Louise Lake and Reflection Lakes shimmer and bob far below. We take in most of Stevens Canyon, the snow-dotted spines of the Tattoosh Range as well as the Cascades, into Oregon and beyond. We spot our van in the Reflection Lakes parking lot, shining in the sun like a metallic ant. We halt, speechless, as the light rain tapers off and the heavens pour out a pastel bowl of colors at our feet. The rainbow arcs over Louise Lake, pours over Faraway Rock and splashes into Reflection Lakes far below to the north.

Forget the Haagen Daz. We’ll take the Lakes High Loop at Mount Rainier any day.

More Later!
Chris and Kristine
Daniel (14), Nathan (12), Samuel (9), Josiah (6, going on 21)

Story ID:	529
Written by:	Kristine L. (bio, link, contact, other stories)
Story type:	Letter
Location:	us usa
Year:	2005