Full Hike [CC]: Through the Rainforest, Across the Glacier, Up the Mountain (Mount Olympus), Part 3

.Looks—as the adage goes—can be deceiving. Take a Hollywood blockbuster: the superhero is polished, performing flashy feats that transcend the screen to inspire real-world audience. But are people who "only play pretend" befitting of fame, much less adulation from children? Arriving visitors, at Hurricane Ridge in Olympic National Park, will see nothing special in the cluttered peaks to their southwest. Identical green mountains capped by black rock and/or white snow. "Which is Mount Olympus?" they ponder. Unfortunately for them, the great mountain demands valiant deeds and unwavering devotion—like the mythological sanctum its name references—before admittance into its otherworldly chambers. In this country, a 7,980-foot summit is usually unremarkable. Especially one within proximity to distinguished giants such as Mount Baker and Rainier. Except, Mount Olympus is no (literally, as it is formed via tectonics) ignorable Cascade entity. And there is much, much more than pure height. Just to reach it entails 18 miles, by Hoh River Trail, starting from merely 600 feet above sea level. That approach gains 4,520 feet total, which seems unimpressive before heeding details: mostly level for the first 12.4 miles, whereupon it shoots up 3,400 feet in the last 5.6. In between is pure Pacific Northwest rainforest: humidity, mud, roots, water crossings, and uncountable small ups/downs that must not be discounted. But as if not enough, those Olympian guardians have forced two aggressive altitude drops: a slide area requiring descending on unsteady ladder rungs and a moraine of steep, crumbling scree. Next, a godly frozen realm. First is the overwhelming Blue Glacier, and one must cautiously navigate half a mile across (or over a mile up it alternatively via terminal moraine). That gets to the base of Snow Dome—commanding with risky, mazy slopes à la aforementioned regional volcanoes. Then, a decision depending on the time of year: (in early season) to directly reach the summit block by the front or (late season; popular) take an arching traverse through "Crystal Pass," leading to opposite side. If Blue Glacier, Snow Dome, and "Crystal Pass" constitute the palace, then Zeus sits on the West Peak summit block, ascended by mostly scrambling/class 4 and a little basic fifth class. At last, a sufficiently spacious apex, with survey markers and register/memorabilia container. Earning that throne is often muted achievement, paralleling the sport of mountaineering: always implied dedication, never a veneer. Unspoken authenticity in "fake it until you make it" times. Photos: https://photos.app.goo.gl/fYQgBBVQC1c... Route: Mini Trail-Spruce Nature Trail-Hoh River Trail-Blue Glacier Primitive Trail Type: Out-&-Back Distance: ~44 mi. Elevation Gain: ~7,380 ft. Location: Olympic NP, Washington, USA Date/Time: 2021-06-23 0652; 2021-08-05 1007 My Thoughts: I had a Motivational Music playlist—my former soundtrack during runs. One of the first entries on there was "Handlebars," by Flobots. Its lyrics depicted a classic tale: two friends, originating from the same simple beginning but progressing on contrary life paths. One was of outward destructive projection, the other of inner hinted strength. I would revisit later in this text that song (because it was relevant). Right now, much to divulge on this secret mountaineering pleasure. For camping: Recreation.gov blocked "Glacier Meadows" as the first night. That choice must be called in and confirmed to a ranger, who would ensure the requester knew it as a formidable goal and not mistakenly opted for. My trips were both a single overnight—highly atypical considering average was four days. Quick parties could aim for three and choose camp per how long intended of summit day (from Elk Lake would require over 5,000 feet to gain and 14 miles roundtrip OR Glacier Meadows/4,000 feet/9 miles). Two particularly difficult areas, I found, were ascending from mile 12.4 and the lateral moraine. On the former: I misjudged how much those prior miles of flatness could wear down later vitality. And meager rest, food, and water did not help. I essentially crawled mile 12.4-basecamp. Oddly, I embraced the washout/ladder—perhaps it was just something different to do. The lateral moraine was always dreadful, up or down. Trying to establish the safest route was a moot test. Everything insisted on being 110% unstable. I had built up strong legs that did me a solid, although I nearly tumbled in spots. Regardless, I liked it more than using the terminal moraine and lengthier glacier travel. Those spectacular higher views also convinced me. Back to that song: I had picked "implied toughness." Not ARMING myself with flashy covers or the lure of admirations but AIMING to strengthen others through shared knowledge. I would insist "nature for all." If successful, there could be a few more mountaineers meeting unseen gods. Unbeknownst to the homogenous masses at Hurricane Ridge. #Hiking #LeaveNoTrace