The day after returning from Manzanita, Sunday August 27th, Kim, Bonnie and I climbed Bare Mountain in the heart of Washington’s Cascades. After driving about 45 minutes west from Seattle to North Bend, we continued north on a county road for 4 miles and then bounced onto a winding, washboarded, and fir tree-enclosed gravel road for another 18 miles to Bare Mountain Trail No. 1037.

We’d read that there were 50-plus switchbacks on this hike, so we knew it was going to be a long day. But the guidebooks promised amazing views, so we figured it would be worth it. Kim and I previously came up here in 1992, but we only made it 2/3rds the way up the slope, leaving all the best views for some later hike (14 years later, as it turned out). The lower section of the route traverses an immense, steepening field of gigantic ferns dotted with cedars and elderberry bushes. Higher up, the ferns give way to a sparse forest of alpine firs scattered among thousands of red huckleberry and wild blueberry bushes.

The start of the trail was uneven and rocky, apparently a snow melt streambed in spring and early summer. I used my ski pole to swipe away the dozens of spider strands criss-crossing the heavily forested trail for the first mile or so until we reached and crossed Bear Creek. Even though its water level was low, being late summer, the creek was still fairly boisterous as it’s cold, crystal clear spring water flowed down slabs of andesite and over numerous mini falls in it’s quick descent down the slope. A short while later, we emerged into bright sunlight and a vast expanse of giant ferns.

At this point the trail begins to climb more steeply, and the switchbacks appeared with increasing frequency. We began to feel rather warm since the southwest ridge face was ideal for gathering all the sun’s rays, and the trail temperature easily topped 80. An hour of steady climbing and a few switchbacks later, we stopped for lunch in a shady cedar tunnel.

After devouring peanut butter sandwiches and grapes, we resumed the ascent. At numerous points along the slope, we stopped and caught our breath while admiring the gradually expanding views of the gorge. Soon, the next-over ridges began to peer over the close ridge, followed by more distant peaks. Finally Mount Rainer emerged, but it’s normal grandeur was somewhat dulled by the haze from forest fire smoke.

As we climbed higher, we needed to stop for breathers and water more often. Once, while gazing across the gorge, we became aware of barely audible but clear notes from a flute. At first, I thought it was a distant bird. I had this passing thought that the music was coming from long ago, but realized that would only happen in the movies. We all heard it, faintly, and thought it was probably eminating from above us, from some earlier hiker. I also thought it likely that the flutist was camped on the far slope where any of several giant rock faces would create a great natural amplifier. We never did find out.

Close to 3 pm, Bonnie’s energy and spirt flagged a bit, so Kim and I encouraged her with promises of great views above (we hoped!), and after another hour, we noticed that the hillside slope was thankfully, albeit slowly, leveling out. After one switchback, we turned to the right and could see the trail heading in a fairly straight and levelling arc through the alpine firs, and oddly, with nothing but blue sky sitting on the trail itself a hundred yards further. I showed Bonnie and asked, “What do you think it means when you can see the sky sitting right on the trail?” And suddenly Bonnie re-energized and raced ahead. In another minute, we were standing on the crest looking down to the two Paradise Lakes and Bench Lake, with ridges and mountains in view to the north for at least 50 miles.

Kim scouted ahead at this point, because we knew were were fairly close to the summit of Bare Mountain. After snapping a few photos, Bonnie and I followed Kim a few minutes later across a steep slope small shrubs and a few wildflowers.

After rounding the fir in the upper left, we could see the true summit looming another 300′ higher. Since we’d already come over 4 miles and climbed nearly 3000 feet, we decided that it would be better to let Bonnie rest up for the return. While Kim picked huckleberries and blueberries near Bonnie, I hiked the final 15 minutes or so to the summit. The trail got just a tad narrow near the summit, and with the aid of a couple handholds, I stepped onto the flat summit Bare Mountain. There was evidence that a cable safety line had been erected at one point, perhaps for climbers coming up from the north. I propped my camera on a rock for quick photo and noticed that I could see Puget Sound to the west, although it was hazy from forest fire smoke in the late afternoon. To the south, I could see the top 7000 feet or so of Mt. Rainier, and to the north I could see past snow-capped Mount Baker.

[1] [2] [3]

Our decent was far quicker, but before we got going in ernest, we filled our sandwich tupperware to the brim with juicy huckleberries and wild blueberries. On the way down, Kim twice startled some mid-sized bird which I think may have been a band-tailed pigeon. For some reason, after she stirred it up the second time, it laid in wait. Bonnie and Kim started on down the trail while I fiddled with my camera, and I heard the bird taking flight again close behind me. I turned around and saw it flying out over the hillside, off to my right and then left parallel to the trail. It quickly and stealthily glided past a couple of large cedar trees halfway down to where Kim led Bonnie, now 60 yards ahead of me. Suddenly this crazy bird reappeared in view as it shot in front of Kim’s face no more than a foot from her nose. Kim let shrieked and nearly jumped out of her shoes, now thoroughly annoyed with this curious bird.

We made even better time after that! Another hour later, we stopped at one of the springs draining through the fern meadow so I could filter ice cold water into our bottles. With a mile to go, we recrossed Bear Creek, stopping to take a closer look this time. Another half hour and we were at the car. A rewarding day in all, with the 8 1/2 miles for Bonnie her longest hike ever.