Jenny invited me to tag along on a scramble up the North Twin Sister (southwest of Mt. Baker) with her and hubby, Chris, on a blistering hot day in June. Blistering for the PNW, that is.
I arrived at their house at 0700 Sunday morning and loaded up into my old Toyota pickup, which is now owned and enjoyed by Chris as a hunting, boat-towing, scouting narrow Forest Service roads vehicle. She (the truck) lives!
We arrived at the TH above Dailey Prairie around 0930, if I remember correctly. We walked up the old road and stopped to admire a nighthawk, which made a distinctive diving-jet sound as it dove for an airborne insect. Very cool.
And then the road turned into trail with alders closing in. Chris found some kind of frog in a little wet area and then the trail got steeper. I left my hiking pole against a tree because the shrubs were grabbing it and soon I'd need both hands for scrambling.
Soon we were above tree-line, at which point we donned our climbing helmets and started the route upward using both hands and feet, and avoided looking down the landscape that fell sharply away. Concentrate. Focus.
At one point, not very far up, I asked Jenny if we could see the summit. No, she said. How much more do we need to scramble, more than 300'? Oh yes, she said, but probably not more than 1000'.
Turns out I was more than optimistic about my estimation and Jenny guessed wrong. I couldn't even say how long it took to get up to the top but there were several times along the way that I doubted I was in the right place, that my skill level was appropriate, that I even wanted to be there. I considered stopping and waiting for them to summit and return. Except there were no comfortable places to stop. It was steep, exposed, the bugs were out, and it was hot. At one point I thought that simply backpacking into a nice lake and fishing were fine objectives. No need to scare myself silly on climbs like these.
However, I was never really scared and not really tired. I was focused and very deliberate, careful to not grab any loose rocks, careful to not step into thin air. Chris coached when foot and handholds were not obvious.
And then we reached the summit. Chris sat on the side facing Mt. Baker, which is glorious when it is that close and the view so clear. Unfortunately I was too dazed to snap a picture. Oh well, I have lots of pictures of Mt. Baker. The breeze kept the bugs away, yet it was warm enough to sit without a jacket. I kept staring in disbelief at the route we had just ascended. My altimeter indicated that we had scrambled at least 1500' and possibly more like 2000'. More disbelief.
After lunch we started down the route. Down is scarier than up in most cases, and this descent followed the rule. Sometimes I wasn't sure whether I was still on the route but I kept Jenny and Chris in view not far ahead. Once I really wasn't sure about the route but Jenny assured me that it was the same way she and Chris had come.
And then I ran out of gas. Jenny promptly shoved some Honey Stingers at me, gave me some Gatorade, and life began to look bright, even happy again. Thankfully we were fairly close to the actual hiking part when that happened.
It's weird when you run out of gas, or bonk, or hit the wall. Suddenly you can't take care of yourself even if you have the means. I've recognized this in my hiking companions in the past and thankfully Jenny recognized my condition immediately. The caregiver simply must forcefeed any kind of sugar available on the victim. I often carry little Snickers and packets of Gu, even a small container of honey sometimes. It's hard to remember to eat when you're constantly focused on placing hands and feet on solid rocks and then suddenly you're too nauseous to even try to eat until someone else practically shoves snacks in your mouth. Then the magic happens, light returns to the world. You might even feel like singing a little song or laughing outloud.
Alas, my pole was not where I had set it. I've never had anyone walk off with poles when I've left them before.
By the time we got down to the truck I practically felt like skipping but then my left leg cramped. And Jenny came to the rescue again, this time with ibuprofen. I drank about a half liter of water and was careful to not put my legs in an awkward position, like you do when you are trying to put on sandals.
We stopped at the Nooksack River to soak our feet for a minute then went on to the Blue Mountain Bar & Grill for beers and snacks while viewing the Twin Sisters from the deck. Here are the pictures.
Postscript: my fingers were raw for nearly a week from scrambling up and down that grippy rock, my entire body was sore for at least two days, and I was covered in scratches and bug bites. What a grand time!