Dog Mountain- Hwy 14

The second hike I had planned for this weekend, was an 8 mile loop with 2800 feet of elevation gain, Dog Mountain.  I was excited for some great views, since the day was supposed to be sunny.  I woke up after a second night on a sleeping “pad” that was neither softer nor less lumpy than the ground.  I hate my camp coffee, so 2^nd day with no caffeine, and it was darkly overcast.  I messed about cooking eggs and breaking up camp, but the clouds did not do any breaking up of their own, so I gave up on views (mostly- I was still hoping it would clear later), and drove to the Dog Mountain Trailhead.  Because I had not gotten my usual early start, the parking lot was completely packed.

The hike starts out in a drier more oaky forest than the day before.  Lovely poison oak lines the trail everywhere which is always nice. Especially since I do a lot of petting Cedar and rubbing my eyes.  He burrowed into it every chance he had to smell what other animals had left their scents there as well and didn’t understand why I kept pulling him back onto the trail.  I could see the Columbia through the trees here and there.  The firs’ permanently whipped-back shape should have been an indication to me of what the top of the mountain was like.

Finally I got up above the poison oak and really started enjoying some lovely forest.  Then there was the mud.  Because the top of the trees were sitting in a thick cloud, it was condensing on them, which caused it to rain only under the trees.  Not bad lower down, but the further up I went the more mud I encountered.  I was wearing my barefoot shoes, which didn’t have great traction, although it seemed like everyone was slipping around no matter what their footwear.  My spirits lifted when I got to the first meadows of wildflowers, where the sunshine was out profusely, in the form of balsamroot.

It got mistier and breezier. Less flowers were blooming, but I enjoyed seeing some scarlet paintbrush and other flowers in these high meadows.

Soon the trail was just winding up and up through a tempest of wind that ripped my hat off my head.  Nothing could be seen beyond about 50 feet, and it seemed to be getting worse instead of breaking up.  Yes, thank you Washington weather forecasters.  Nicest day of the weekend, huh?  Way to go.

The top was a freezing cloudy windy viewless summit, clustered with people who had to choose between standing directly in the howling winds or huddle under the trees, which remember were raining, therefore stand in the ice cold mud.  I tried for a happy medium and ate my lunch in only a small amount of mud and a little wind. By the time Cedar and I headed down, I had no feeling in my hands or one foot and had put on my extra coat and winter hat. 

 I chose the other half of the loop for my return trip, hoping there would be less mud.  There was more.  I fell in it and although I didn’t actually hate the trail, that is what I screamed into the mist… that and something about the mud that would have made a drill sergeant cringe. 

I actually met a lot of nice people on this trail, including a group of women with their dogs that had lost sight of the other half of their party.  I walked with each half of that group for a ways.  Also there was a cute boy scout with thick glasses who wasn’t inclined to keep up with his scout leader.  He reminded me of me, when I was a girl scout and got in trouble for dropping back so far that I got lost on a trail.  Well… I wasn’t lost, but they thought I was.  I was just a long way behind.  Anyway- great workout and lovely balsamroot on this trail.  If you are a fan of mud, this one is for you. 

In fairness though, there were parts of this trail that were beautiful, and no doubt the whole thing is fantastic on a nice day (if those exist there), so don't let my sarcasm scare you off it.  I was sad that it wasn't warm enough to see a rattlesnake, but there were sweet peas and other things blooming amongst the poison oak, and this cool flower that looked like a fireworks going off, which was I think is a sitka vilerian.