The Loowit Trail is a 26-mile loop circumnavigating Mount Saint Helens, which famously erupted in 1980, in southwestern Washington State. It’s been on my bucket list for the past few years and earlier this month I made my first attempt. Unfortunately it was also the first trip I’ve had to cut short in recent memory due to injury.
The northern face of the mountain was destroyed in the eruption and the devastated area immediately north of it is known as the blast zone. Although slowly recovering, it is, for the most part, still a bone-dry wasteland. Interestingly, neither camping nor even just going off-trail are allowed in the blast zone: the 10-mile section of the loop that crosses through it must be done in a single day.
Instead of the typical south-side start from either June Lake or Climber’s Bivouac, I decided that I wanted to spend even more time crossing through the blast zone on the northern side of the mountain. In addition to adding an extra 11 miles to the trip it also required starting from the Johnston Ridge Observatory. Downside: lots of tourists. Upside: tons of parking, the gift shop has chocolate and candy bars, and it is one of the few places you can still buy an America the Beautiful Pass (which, it turns out, you don’t need: parking at JRO does not require a pass, overnight or otherwise). The additional mileage meant that I was in for 12-15 miles per day of my planned three-day trip. Not insurmountable and definitely in line with what I’ve been up to recently but perhaps a bit aggressive for a first-timer.
Goals
- Circumnavigate Mount Saint Helens ❌
- Explore the blast zone ✅
- See over 50 goats ✅
- Photograph Loowit Falls ✅
- Astrophotography ❌
- Not injure my leg and have to hobble 15 miles back to the car in a single day ❌
- Try out Peak Refuel dehydrated meals ✅
Day 1: Johnston Ridge Observatory to Pumice Butte
Coming from central Washington, I opted to take the more scenic highway 12 rather than the bog-standard I-90 to I-5. Unfortunately JRO is only reachable from the west so despite Google’s lies about there being a shortcut through what turned out to be private timber land (featuring a big sign saying there was no Helens access) I ended up having to go almost all the way west to I-5 regardless before cutting south and then east on 504. Now, the 504 is absolutely beautiful and features some stunning bridge work but it’s still a hell of a drive and I doubt I’d ever want to do it again.
Now, as you can see above, the views of the mountain from the ridge on which the observatory lies are nothing short of stunning. A slew of rivers cut massive gorges through the soft earth and greenery is, for the most part, sparse. Groups of people stood along the railing, spotting multiple elk herds in their binoculars, but it wasn’t anything I could make out myself.
Descending from the ridge to the blast zone reveals a rocky, ashen landscape dotted with shrubs and flowers and the occasional creek carving out a ravine (water was more plentiful than I had anticipated). Although obvious, the trail was frequently marked by sun-bleached posts erected in stone cairns. Perhaps it’s for winter travel. Access aside, the blast zone would be an absolute wonderland under a few feet of snow.
After reaching the trail proper my first stop was a short detour to check out Loowit Falls. I had, of course, been led to believe that it was worth checking out, something I might have taken issue with had I known the following:
- The waterfall is incredibly backlit in the afternoon
- It lies, unreachable, at the end of a canyon due to a lack of trails and prohibition against going off-trail
So my first big landmark was a bit of a disappointment. As a consolation prize I was greeted with a fantastic view of Spirit Lake as I headed eastward across the plains:
The large white mass floating at the end of the right inlet is actually thousands of dead trees left over from the eruption. During the course of the day this boney flotilla meanders its way all across the surface of the lake. It’s best experienced from the incredible Boundary Trail which traverses the ridge just south of the lake.
It was around this time that I first noticed a stiffness building up in my right hip. Not having had any hip issues, well, ever, I decided to keep on keeping on. I was, however, forced to take a break when I bumped into a herd of over 50 goats on the trail ahead of me:
Of course, wildlife photography and wide-angle lenses don’t really mix: you might have to take my word for it.
The stiffness in my hip had migrated to my knee and was replaced by a dull, throbbing ache. With no possibility of a campsite until going over Windy Pass and leaving the blast zone, I continued onward.
The south side of Windy Pass drops down into the Plains of Abraham, a place I’ve hiked before and had described as an “ash desert:” I recall arriving back at the car with pitch-black legs due to all the ash clinging to sunscreen. Of course, being a much more seasoned adventurer this time around my long pants kept my legs both sunscreen- and ash-free.
Unfortunately my right knee was itself becoming even more seasoned: it was now painful to walk on my right leg and I was no longer able to straighten it out completely. The coating of golf ball-sized lava rock means that you can’t just plop your tent down anywhere you like without spending the time to clear a decent-sized patch of ground, something I imagine the rangers frown upon. An established site next to a trickle of a creek at the bottom of the pass was already occupied so I trudged and winced my way forward to a gently-forested ridge just south of Pumice Butte.
Thankfully I was able to rest my leg and get a hot meal but the last five miles or so had been incredibly painful and I was doubtful that I’d be restored overnight.
A nearby stand of bone-white snags promised to provide an incredible foreground for star trails but clouds rolled in shortly after dark.
Day 2: Pretty Much Like Day 1 But In Reverse
I awoke to a right leg that was more or less useless, any travel required leaning heavily on my trekking pole. Normally on trips like this a little morning stiffness is to be expected; I downed some ibuprofen and continued to hobble my way along the trail.
Unfortunately the trail here crosses a series of massive erosional canyons formed by the Muddy River and friends, each one of which requires a sizable descent and ascent up the other side. Travel became excruciating, but having dry-camped I was happy to stop for water.
After having only progressed a little over a mile in an hour I realized that, with 15 or so miles along the south side of the mountain remaining in the day and no chance of sustainably increasing my pace, I needed to either return to my previous camp and spend the day resting before hiking out or just go gonzo and retrace the first day’s steps 15 miles all the way back to the car. Surprisingly, I chose the latter. In hindsight I think this was a poor move and risked turning a moderate injury into something potentially serious but all I could think about was getting to the car, going home, and going to bed. And so I did. Incredibly I was able to speed-hobble with the trekking pole an average of around two miles per hour which meant I ended up at the car in the late afternoon rather than after dark.
For my valiant efforts I was rewarded with this stunning shot shortly after I made the decision to turn around:
Was it worth it? Totally. Less than two weeks later my leg is almost 100% (I’m already training on it), I saw some beautiful countryside and got some great photos, and I learned a lot more about my physical limitations. I still don’t have any idea what the hell happened with my leg, I guess I must have tweaked it doing yard work a day or two before and the mileage turned a molehill into a mountain. The frustrating thing was that my left leg was completely fine so I know it wasn’t an issue of biting off more than I could chew.
What I Learned
In case of injury a trekking pole can make the difference between a walk-out and a rescue. The first time I learned this, it was Person B who got injured while we were in the Enchanted Valley in the Olympics but now I’ve experienced it myself. As far as pace, I was able to sustainably hobble 1.8 mph over the course of 15 miles.
Ibuprofen is a wonder drug and you probably aren’t bringing enough. While you’re at it, throw in some CBD. You may need a larger pill container.
On my return trip I bumped into a couple who was doing the loop the other way around. Since I was obviously limping we chatted about injury for a moment and it turned out that one of them had also messed up their knee on the first day of their trip (starting from the south side at June Lake). Unlike me, however, they were carrying a knee brace which allowed them to continue to make progress. I can’t say that it would have made a difference for me but it’s worth looking into.
I’m not a big-breakfast person. I’ve been targeting 2,700 calories per day spread evenly among 3 meals, however, after trying to down 800 calories of sweet pork and rice right after crawling out of my tent I had to stop myself about three quarters of the way through. I think historically my focus has been too much on the big 3 meals rather than lots of snacks. The other issue with large pre-packaged meals is that you either finish the whole thing or you don’t, the lack of refrigeration means you can’t just seal up a bag at night and eat the leftovers in the morning. Going forward my emphasis is going to be on more snacking during hourly breaks.
Volume is important. As much as I like being lazy and just stuffing things into my pack, using the stuff sack for a big puffy quilt results in a significant reduction in volume, leaving more space for food. I’m also curious about using a compression strap to keep my sleeping pad in check (and also as a possible way to anchor it under the top lid so that I can free up even more space).
I’m lucky in that I rarely have to deal with blisters on trips. This time I managed to scare up a couple nasty ones on my return journey. After popping and draining them and covering them up with paper tape I was able to walk pain-free (well, at least as far as the blisters were concerned) after just 15 minutes. Unfortunately a bad step caused me to bang one of them up against a rock, yielding another 15 minutes of unpleasantness until my toe felt normal again.
In moderately warm temperatures (70s, direct sun) I drank through my first 700mL water bottle after around 5.5 miles of hiking. That’s around 125mL or 4.5oz of water per mile, or about 8 miles per liter. Using water bottles alone my carrying capacity is 1,400mL so any dry stretch longer than 11 miles means I’ll either have to go without or carry more. Given that my Vecto holds an additional 2 liters that brings me up to just short of 27 miles of maximum distance before I run out of water. If I ever do any desert hiking or trips with extended dry stretches this will be useful information to have for planning.
Gear
Total pack weight: 21.4 pounds
Packing list: https://lighterpack.com/r/d4dfde
What Worked
I opted out of bringing dedicated sleep socks and my feet were just fine. I think one of the benefits of the 20F quilt is that I no longer need to lug around extra nighttime foot insulation.
After a couple years of abuse I finally replaced by Drymax socks with two fresh yet otherwise identical pairs. Still the greatest hiking socks ever.
I love my ProLite Apex sleeping pad. I never have to worry about falling off or adjusting, it’s comfy as hell, and I always sleep like a baby on it. Yes, at 732 grams it’s silly heavy but after exhaustively searching the market for a 3-ish R-value pad of comparable size there really isn’t anything that can compare. Most wide pads are also long and so any savings you get in thickness are lost to the larger surface area. Also, dropping from 2 inches of thickness to 1.5 or even 1 doesn’t save you a ton of space in your pack according to the published packed sizes of the manufacturers.
In the product literature the Easton Nano Nail stakes are shown being pounded through a 2×4. It’s confidence-inspiring to know that they’re so durable and I can definitely attest to their ability to easily penetrate rocky ground after this trip. I still need to put pull loops in, however.
What Didn’t
I have a nagging feeling that the upper range of the visible light transmission on my Tifosi Crits might be just a tad too high. I love photochromic lenses because they mean I can go from shaded forest to bright meadow without fiddling with my glasses but I’m concerned that the wide brim of my hat blocks enough direct UV rays that they’re not darkening all the way. A quick search reveals that a wide-brim hat can block up to 50% of all UV rays from reaching your eyes which fuels my theory that the darkening effect might be reduced.
I got big nasty blisters on the outsides of both of my big toes. Call me crazy but I don’t recall this being an issue with my original Oboz Sawtooths, but both the Aretes and Sawtooth IIs seem to be giving me problems. Maybe it’s a breaking-in thing, or maybe I’m just not taking as good of care of my feet as I thought I was. In any case, I pulled my blister-popping needle out of my tweezer tube and promptly dropped it on the ground, never to be seen again. Fortunately the tips on the Silver Grippers are sharp enough that I was able to use them to pop and drain the blisters after sterilizing them with alcohol. Now that I’m at home I’ve hopefully addressed the issue by pre-threading my floss through the needle and tying a knot in the end to form a loop. This won’t prevent me from using the floss for actual flossing (gotta watch that jerky) and has the added benefit that if I’m ever in a repair situation in inclement weather or at night I don’t have to worry about the extra hassle of trying to thread the needle.
What’s Next
As mentioned earlier I think I’ll pack a knee brace on my next attempt. Other than that I was pretty happy with my gear situation, I don’t feel like there was much to improve.
Route
Gaia folder:
https://www.gaiagps.com/public/t0IYW83GrubAUIeulywqZReY
Stats:
- 27 miles
- 6,500 feet of gain
I took extra care to note the locations of water sources along the route. In hindsight there are so many that water carries aren’t a serious concern. Established campsite locations in the Plains of Abraham area were few and far between: there was one near the water source at the bottom of Windy Pass, one or two tucked into the west side of the ridge north of Pumice Butte, and a few more just north of the butte itself. Unfortunately all of these were occupied. My spot on top of the ridge wasn’t bad by any means – it was very private – but given my condition I would have preferred to stop a bit earlier.
Food
The limited edition Peak Refuel Elk Ragu Pasta is, hands down, the best backpacking meal I’ve ever had. I had no idea freeze dried food could be this good. At 15 bucks a pop I don’t know if I’ll be picking up a whole box but it was definitely worth trying. This was my first experience with Peak Refuel and I’m excited to try out everything else in the variety pack. If you’re a tomato sauce lover like I am I think a packet or two of ketchup or mild sauce would have made it even better.
In second place we have the Peak Refuel Sweet Pork & Rice as the second day’s breakfast. At 800 calories per pouch it was too much for me to get through in one sitting (for breakfast, at least, it seems like I cap out at around 600 calories) but it was definitely delicious. The chunks of pork were so massive that some of them didn’t quite rehydrate fully and remained a bit chewy in the center. In a way, disappointing, but as far as ingredient quality it definitely beats sad, straggly little wisps of meat. I think a packet of sriracha or similar hot sauce might have really upped the ante on this one.
Kellogg’s Nutri Grain bars are a crumbly way to get carbs and fruit into your belly. I dig em’.
A lot of folks like to enjoy a hot beverage with or after dinner, myself included, and for me nothing comes close to these little packets of instant Thai tea from DeDe. They only require a cup of hot (not boiling) water to make so once I get my initial two cups boiling I can usually refill my pot and use what’s left of the stove’s flame to get the water up to the proper temperature. I’ve tried oodles of teas and other drink mixes and this by far the best tasting.
Photography
Breathtaking. After I had decided to turn around I was crossing one of the two Muddy River erosional canyons when beams of sunlight suddenly burst through the clouds. They fell especially hard on the southern wall of the canyon, giving it a surreal glow. If only I had a hiker to pose on the little mound in the foreground. As is usually the case, the best photo of the trip happens not due to planning but the sheer luck of being in the right place at the right time.
Ostensibly a picture of some goats, the leading line of the trail and excellent horizon come together for what I think is some really pleasing geometry. I considered cropping the bottom left off in order to make the goats more apparent but decided that the “V” of Windy Pass on the left was too important to lose. I’ve also learned to finally embrace the rich blues of a polarized sky instead of trying to tone them down. In a sense it’s actually more true to the in-person experience since this is what the scene looks like through polarized sunglasses.
I don’t know why I like this picture so much. It’s just a boulder on a knoll of wildflowers (which are mostly obscured by all the dried-out grass).
Terrible. The back-list falls were just awful to look at, through the lens or otherwise. This might be a good shot early in the morning when the only things lit up are the falls and the right wall but I wouldn’t count on it. Kind of a bummer that the biggest waterfall on the trip isn’t photogenic.
The clouds make this shot, they’re practically flowing out of the lake. I think a tighter field of view and lack of low-lying puffy clouds would have been improvements.
I just couldn’t get the depth of the canyons across in the photos. In person they’re jaw-droppingly massive: this one is so big it still has a huge chunk of dirty snow buried in the bottom. Even the little hiker near the right edge doesn’t really do it justice. I think it’s because I’m looking over an edge and everything is in focus, making it hard to really distinguish distance or what’s foreground and background. In the end it sort of comes across as just a jumble. At the time my mind was on my leg rather than fishing around for good shots so maybe on my next attempt I can really capture what’s going on.
Future Trips
Having significantly increased the trip difficulty just to walk through the northern blast zone, I’d say that in hindsight this was definitely not worth it. You’ll spend the better part of a day crossing a 10-mile segment of blast zone as part of the regular loop and I can’t say that the bits between Loowit Falls and the observatory are significantly better (or even noticeably different) than the bits on the trail itself. Were I to do it all over again, I would drive up mid-week in the evening and spend the night in the back of my truck at either the June Lake or Climber’s Bivouac trailheads. This would guarantee me a parking spot and I’d have a whole day of just hiking without an obnoxious four-and-a-half hours of driving immediately beforehand.