Is this the GOAT hike?

The sublimity of true mountain scenery in the Cascade Mountains ... must be seen, it cannot be described. Nowhere do the mountain masses and peaks present such a strange, fantastic, dauntless and startling outline as here. Whoever wishes to see nature in all its wildness must go and visit these mountain regions... - Henry Custer, US Northwest Border Commission topographer, 1859

Saturday, 08 July 2023, North Cascades NP

Olympic NP clocked in as my 47th National Park, leaving 16 parks to go. My adventures have taken me through the most iconic of the parks, from Acadia to Zion. And though I have explored a few of the lesser-known parks (such as Great Basin, Dry Tortugas, or Virgin Islands), half of my remaining parks rank as the eight least-visited National Parks (based on 2022 visitation numbers).

North Cascades ranks as the 6th least-visited, with only 30K people venturing there last year. (In the lower 48 states, only Isle Royale had fewer.)

In my only previous visit, I'd driven through Ross Lake NRA, stopping at a trailhead and hiking two miles (encountering few if any other hikers) to reach North Cascades' north unit. Though any trail in an NP is worth spending time on, I don't recall being swept into adulation.

This time I knew I HAD to experience the only road that accesses the south unit. Given the low number of visitors, I expected another day spent far from crowds. My first hint to the contrary came when I asked the ranger about the road and trail yesterday. "I recommend you get there around 8:00. There's only a small parking lot, and it fills quickly. After that, you have to park on the road shoulder, and you might end up walking a ways to the trailhead."

The day dawned dreary, with an overcast sky blocking the rays of the sun. Driving up the 23-mile-long Cascade River Road took a while; when the road went to gravel, traffic ahead of me dropped to 15 mph on the washboarded road. The thickly forested lane left little chance for dramatic vistas, though it did follow a rushing stream for parts of it.

I reached the road's end around 9:20, and saw why the ranger had made his recommendation. The trailhead had more parking than many others I've seen, but it had indeed filled. Luckily, I had only to backtrack a dozen cars to find parking. As I walked back to the trailhead, the calculator in my head figured it out. That makes sense. Since this is the only 'easy' access to the park, EVERYONE comes here. Since NPS had only opened the road within the last week, in a good year the window for doing this hike would run from June into September - say 100 days. That works out to ~300 people/day. The cars that I saw there could easily have carried that many.

At the trailhead - no ranger station here, just a few signs - I looked at the map of the Cascade Pass trail. The severity of the climb jumped out at me - numerous switchbacks climbing the steep slope, forming an irregular set of teeth as if on a bent and twisted saw.

As best I could see given the map's scale, I counted 13 teeth - 13 zigs out and zags back. My calculator started running again: Let's see. 3.7 miles one-way to the pass, 1740' elevation gain. That makes a slope of ... 8.7%. In other words, STEEP.

I girded myself for the long haul - not setting any speed records here! My days of being the fastest up a mountain had passed long ago. Any time I heard voices or footsteps behind me (which happened regularly, given the trail's popularity), I stepped aside to let them pass. My only 'victory' came when I passed a pair of young women taking a water break.

The clouds kept the temperature in the 50s, easing the chance of overheating. Mists filtered through the tree, lending a mystical atmosphere.

I kept count of the 'teeth' I covered, giving myself something to focus on, goals to keep me moving. Tooth 7 - halfway there!

Midway through the 10th tooth, I reached the upper limit of the cloud cover. Suddenly sunlight could reach me! I watched as one hiker passed me, the Fingers of the Cascadian God streaming through to caress him.

At the end of the zig on the 13th tooth, the trees parted to offer the first vistas of the hike. Across the valley, sheer peaks rose above tree lines, sporting glaciers.

As I kept plodding up, I caught more and more glimpses through the woods.

By this time, I started encountering hikers heading downhill. I remarked to one about he must have started early. "Yeah, I try to get on the trail by 6:00. That way I have the rest of the day to enjoy."

Still I climbed, through evolving scenery. Numerous tiny waterfalls spilled across the trail, moisture unchained from the glaciers and snowfields perched out of sight above me. Those spots sported a profusion of ferns and mosses.

By the 17th tooth, I wondered how many more awaited me. But it hadn't sapped my energy, and I kept ascending, step by step by lumbering step. The scenery kept egging me forward.

Maybe all those training hikes had a real impact.

As I zagged back on tooth 18, I could now view the entire Cascade River valley. On either side, peaks jutted high into the blue sky, holding tight to glaciers lying in cirques. Between the ridges, clouds clogged the valley, a river of white stretching to the lowlands. I searched not for superlatives to describe it, but for any other hikes I've taken that could compare with this one.

Truly this ranked high in the top ten of any hikes I could recall.

I'd already guessed the answer when I asked the next hiker coming down if many more switchbacks remained. "No, you've got a pretty straight shot now to the pass. You're almost there!" Whew! That took me two hours to climb the wall.

I reveled in the climactic scenery as I kept pushing for the pass. The last challenge was crossing a field of talus (loose rock) followed by several yards across a snowfield. At the far end, I could see the trail as it turned to gain the summit.

Across that obstacle, I stopped to look back on the trail. Such sublime nature.

Finally, 2½ hours after starting, I topped the pass. On the other side, a green valley spread out below me - no clouds to mar the view.

Other hikers sat on rocks scattered about the site, catching their breath that the scenery threatened to steal.

I dropped my daypack, grabbed my camera, and (a rarity for me) had someone take my picture.

I then wandered back on the trail, looking for photo ops in this paradise. A hiker standing by the trail pointed out a snowfield to our side, bordered by rocks. "There were a couple of goats moving into the snowfield a minute ago, but they retreated back into the rocks. I think you missed them."

When they didn't reappear quickly, I returned to the pass. A large Crimson Crisp apple and a power bar made for a perfect al fresco lunch as I rested my legs and soaked in the beauty. After a nice break, I set off on the long hike back. At the spot where the hiker had seen goats, I paused, and - there! There he is! By the time I got my camera ready, he had disappeared into the trees, but a moment later his mate crossed the snowfield. There's my wildlife for the day!

Amazing how things had changed in the last hour. I now had views into the green Cascade River valley, the clouds having burned off.

My feet felt lighter, not having to lift them higher with each step. As I entered the zag for tooth 18, the hiker ahead of me held out his hand to halt me. "Be very still! There's a goat just on the other side of this tree."

Forewarned, I stepped cautiously forward, staying on the high edge of the trail. Sure enough, a momma goat stood just below the trail, ignoring the pesky hikers, munching on a bush. As I passed her and looked back, I noticed her kid hiding behind her. What a photo op! From less than 20' away! So why does my camera choose NOW to stop working? Oh, great, I forgot to check the battery level. That's why I travel with camera AND cellphone!

I watched them from a respectful distance until momma got tired of the audience and moved downslope. I turned and traipsed down the trail myself, ready to start my big descent. But wait - I'm taking switchbacks, right? As I zigged back on tooth 18, I quickly caught up with momma and kid ambling down the trail. After a minute, she led her child off downslope again, away from my prying eyes for good.

So you tell me - was this a G.O.A.T. hike, just a Goat hike, or both? What do you think?

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<Later> It took me 90 minutes to get back to the car, for a total of five hours on the trail. As I hiked out, I thought of other outstanding trails I've enjoyed (mostly on this challenge), comparing it to this. My initial ranking puts it at #2 on my top-ten list, but I'll have to let the idea simmer.

Once I got down, I returned to my room and started organizing my gear for the Mt Rainier backpack that now looms large. Hard to believe that the long considered/anticipated/dreaded jaunt starts on Monday! At least today's hike, accomplished with no issues, gave me a confidence boost. I gained more elevation today than I will any given day on the backpack, albeit doing it with no heavy pack on my back.

...

A request. As this challenge winds down, I have some top-line adventures coming up: backpacking beneath Mt. Rainier; kayaking glacial lakes, camping in bear-infested country, walking on a glacier, and more. I would love to expose this blog to a wider audience - which could improve my chances of getting a publisher to pick up my anticipated book. If you're enjoying these tales, please - send a link or this blog to three or more of your friends, family, or co-workers. Tell them about this crazy man online chasing his National Park dream!