Ultrarunners on the Coldwater Trail

When autumn leaves begin turning here in the Pacific NW, it's always a frantic scramble to visit all my favorite fall trails before the colors begin to fade.  One fall hike that's always on the top of this list is the loop around Coldwater Lake.

Coldwater Lake

Coldwater Lake is located in SW Washington, under the shadow of nearby Mt St Helens.  Formed on that fateful day when the mountain erupted, the shoreline of this long, slender body of water bursts into a kaleidoscope of fall finery during the month of October.

The lower forest was still green

I have an autumn tradition of traveling the entire trail circling this lovely lake  (See this post from 2014).  However, due to last October's SW Utah trip, it had been a couple years since I'd done my annual trek.  I wasn't about to miss it again!

Lots of tiny toads!

But this year's hike would have a twist.  Instead of circumnavigating Coldwater Lake, I decided to follow it's south ridge and then continue on the Coldwater Trail to St Helens Lake.  Although I'd reached this stunning mountain lake via the Boundary Trail from Johnston Ridge Observatory, the Coldwater Trail was yet another option.  A path I'd never hiked, it was time to check it off my list.

Bare ridgeline

So one blustery early October Saturday morning had me pulling into Coldwater Lake's boat ramp parking area.  Needing to use the "ladies room" before beginning my hike, I wanted to take advantage of its bathroom facilities.  This time of year, I'm normally greeted with an empty parking lot, so you can imagine my surprise when I found several tents, canopies, vehicles, and people milling around the restroom.  I discovered an ultrarunning race was taking place that day, with the boast ramp serving as one of the aid stations.

Coldwater Lake from on high

For those of you unfamiliar with the term, ultrarunning refers to any running race longer than marathon length (26.2 miles).  Ultras, as they are called, range in distance from 50 kilometers to 100 miles and beyond, and are usually run on trails.  A nearby sign proclaimed today's event as the "Bigfoot 120 Endurance Run."

Festive fall tree

The Coldwater Trailhead was a mere mile down the road, so leaving the race crowd behind, I made the short dash to its parking area.  Glancing at the ominously cloudy sky,  I made sure my rain jacket and pack cover were stashed inside my backpack.  Wet weather was forecast, and I crossed my fingers in hopes of a dry hike.

Old, weathered stumps

My trail climbed almost immediately through thick second-growth woods, their leaves still green.  The forest floor was alive with dozens of tiny toads, hopping madly to avoid my footsteps.  A sign at the trailhead had ominously warned of bear and cougar sightings, so I made it a habit to whistle, call out, and clack my trekking poles when passing through areas of thick vegetation.

Bulldozer upended from the eruption

Climbing to the top of the first ridge, I passed by some old logging machinery, partially buried by the 1980 eruption.  Traversing across this barren spine, I was treated to spectacular panoramic views of Coldwater Lake, far below.

Technicolor hillside

But, aside from a few trees displaying yellow leaves, the fabulous fall colors of the huckleberry bushes were absent.  I wasn't sure if my timing was early or late but the three-mile trudge across that high ridge wasn't as scenic compared to prior years.

Spellbinding views

Although my path across the ridge traced the same route I'd taken on past round-the-lake ventures, things were about to change.  Reaching the first trail intersection, nicknamed "Tractor Junction" after a nearby upended bulldozer, I diverged from my usual path and continued to follow the Coldwater Trail.

Amazing fall colors

Thus far, autumn colors had been kind of ho-hum.  And, although I'd hoped to see some of the ultra race participants, none had yet passed by.  But things were about to change in a big way.

Patchwork quilt of color

From Tractor Junction I climbed steeply through a narrow, brushy path.  A lone runner approached from the opposite direction and I politely stepped aside, allowing him to pass.

A runner admires the view

The clouds thickened, and fog began ghosting over adjacent hilltops.  And just as I was beginning to think my long trek would be for naught, I topped out on a ridge.  And, oh what a glorious view awaited on the other side!

Bright vine maple leaves

The adjacent mountain slopes were colored in a patchwork of brilliant oranges, reds, and golds.  Low-lying clouds draped the very ridgetops and lazily drifted into crevices.  These mountains sloped down into a deep valley, with a creek running along its very bottom.  The opposite ridge was littered with downed trees, a casualty of the 1980 eruption.

Downed trees from the eruption

I just stood there open-mouthed.  Then my camera came out and a long photo session began!  As I was firing away, a couple more runners passed by, all of them stopping in mid-stride at this amazing sight.

Golden ridge

Continuing my climb towards Coldwater Peak and St Helens Lake, the scenery just kept getting better.  Crimson huckleberry bushes accented the golden grassy hillsides.  And the higher I traveled, the more runners I saw. 

Good views, despite the fog

The first few racers encountered were your stereotypical young and lean runner.  But soon the main pack began passing by and I noticed that these participants were all ages, shapes and sizes.  These people were so inspiring!  I was particularly impressed by an older, amazingly fit looking couple, probably well into their 60s.  The man and woman came traipsing by, smiling broadly, looking like they were having the time of their life. 

Can you spot the runner?

I asked a few of the runners how far they had to go.  I learned the race offered two distances - a roughly 100 kilometer course (about 68 miles I was told) and a 120 mile option.  The 120-mile racers had started the previous night near Mt Adams, and the 100k racers had started that morning near Elk Pass, about 26 miles away.  Participants would be on the move all this day and night, following the hiking trails around Mt St Helens, finishing the following afternoon at the Marble Mountain Sno-Park on the mountain's south side.

Fog closed in the higher I climbed

Although the trek to St Helens Lake seemed to take forever, and the fog and cold began creeping in, the fabulous scenery and company of these amazing runners kept my spirits high.  Climbing the final pitch to St Helens Lake, I was disappointed to find it cloaked in a thick fog.  No grand photos today!  I could barely make out the lake through all this gloom.

I could barely see St Helens Lake

After a quick snack and even quicker potty break (I lucked out with just enough time between runners to discreetly "take care of business") it was time to retrace my steps back to the trailhead.

Exquisite red huckleberry leaves

Although the wind came up and the sky threatened rain, my trip back through this stark scenic plain was just as enjoyable as the climb.  Overcast skies made brilliant fall colors pop, and a steady stream of runners kept me company.

More runners passing me by

Although I didn't take many photos of the runners themselves, one woman, seeing my big camera, asked if I was the race photographer.  (Hmmmm....a new career?)

Back past the amazing ridgeline

As I approached Tractor Junction, the number of runners slowly petered out, until only a few stragglers remained.  At the junction, the race course and I parted ways, with the runners continuing around the lake, and me heading back along the south ridge.  Alone again, I climbed back up the colorless, bleak ridge with three tough, lonely miles yet to go.

Fog obscuring the scenery

Boy did I miss the company of those runners!  Trudging through the endless trail, feet now hurting, the last three miles were brutal.  Remembering the trailhead wildlife warnings, I belted out "YMCA" (the only song I could remember at the time) to ward off imagined bears and mountain lions.  With about a mile to go, the skies opened up, necessitating a quick break to don raingear and cover my pack.

Vine maple close-up

But thankfully the parking lot, and my car finally came into view.  After swapping dry shoes and clothes, I headed back to the boat launch for one final potty break before the long ride home.  Arriving to a nearly full parking area, the race's aid station was in full swing.  I even recognized some of the same runners I'd seen earlier on the trail.  They were fueling up and heading back out on the trail for a very long night.  As the rain began to fall in earnest, I was glad it was them and not me!

Coldwater Lake's glorious panorama

New trail explored.  Amazing scenery captured.  Inspiration provided by incredible ultramarathon runners.  Attitude adjusted for the week ahead.  Another wildly successful hike!

Stats:  12.5 miles round-trip, 2500 feet elevation gain

Circling Coldwater Lake

What makes me happy?  Long time blog followers will know the answer right away.  A day on one of my favorite hiking trails, accompanied by good friends, always brings a smile to my face.

Fall color reflections

Such was the case in mid-October.  Trying to fit in all my favorite hikes that month, I wasn't about to miss a trip around Coldwater Lake.  Visiting first in 2012 and again last year, hiking Coldwater Lake has become an annual fall tradition.

This unique lake, located directly north of Mt. St. Helens, was formed during the 1980 eruption when the mountain's north side slumped into the Toutle River.  Rock and sediment from the blast dammed the river, creating this beautiful, four-mile-long body of water.

Blue skies to begin our hike

I recruited hiking buddies John and Steve to join me for my yearly circumnavigation.  Neither had ever done this hike before.  There's not many trails they haven't set foot on, so I was pleased to show them around for a change.

We started from the boat dock parking lot at the lake's west end.  After a mile of road walking (unlike last year I decided to get the boring part out of the way first) my companions and I arrived at the South Coldwater trailhead.

Tiny toad

From here we climbed steeply for a mile or so before topping out on the ridge directly south of the lake.  Although most of our ascent had been in dense woods, once upon the ridgetop, we emerged onto a barren, windy plain.  When St. Helens blew, this ridge took a direct hit, stripping away the trees and obliterating all vegetation.

 

Logging equipment destroyed by the blast

Vegetation wasn't the only casualty.  A logging company had been harvesting trees here, and when the mountain blew, their equipment was buried in ash.  Since that fateful day in May 1980, these vehicles have remained frozen in time, slowly rusting away.

John is fascinated

One of the many highlights on this trail, John and Steve were fascinated by the destruction wrought upon these large pieces of machinery.  The force of the blast was enough to twist metal.  Ash and sediment totally covered the lower portions.  Can you spot the top of a tire in the above photograph?

Rusting dozer

A very sobering reminder of the power this volcanic eruption wrought.

Wide open views

Continuing past the ruined logging camp, I followed John and Steve across the wide-open ridge.  Views were grand - we could see rumpled Minnie Peak to the east, and directly below Coldwater Lake sparkled in the intermittent sunshine.

Coldwater Lake far below

A unseasonably warm autumn had delayed the fall leaf show, and I was a bit disappointed by the lack of color.  There were spots of orange, and some red here and there, but nothing like last year's stellar display.

This ridge was cleared by the1980 eruption

Our trail followed the top of Coldwater Lake's south ridge.  My friends and I passed by ghostly gray trunks of long-dead trees lying across the slopes.  These trees, flattened by St. Helens mighty blast were stark reminders of the destruction that day.

Cute 'shrooms

But my buddies also spotted happy things.  Like these cute little mushrooms sprouting up from the forest floor.

Upended dozer

The South Coldwater Trail traversed the ridge length until it met up with two other trails at "Tractor Junction," this intersection so named from the discovery of another piece of upended logging equipment (it appeared to be a bulldozer) destroyed in the 1980 eruption.

Heading towards Minnie Peak

From Tractor Junction, the guys and I followed a 2-mile connector that would take us to the Lakes Trail.  This trail started out fairly mellow, meandering through a field of colored huckleberry bushes.

Last of the foxgloves

And past the last of the summer flowers.  I was quite surprised to discover these foxgloves still blooming in mid-October.

Close up view of Minnie Peak

But once past the clearing, our trail dived into thick woods, and rocketed steeply down the ridge.  Losing all that elevation we'd gained, this connector would take us to the path that followed the lake's north shore.

Fall colors hidden in the gullies

Every once and awhile the trees would part just enough to give us teasing glimpses of Minnie Peak's scenic slopes.  Minnie Peak and the adjacent hills were decked out in some of the best fall colors I'd seen so far.  With downed trees looking like tiny toothpicks, and brightly-hued bushes tucked into it's gullies, Minnie Peak made a great photo subject.

At the lake's east end

From last year's hike, I knew we were getting close to our next junction once we crossed the bridge over lovely Coldwater Creek.  Almost down to lake level, my friends decided some rocks overlooking the creek would make a great lunch spot.  And it did!

Lunch break

After ingesting the hiker lunch essentials - PB & J, apple slices, hot tea, and....cookies (but of course!), I felt ready to tackle the long trek back along Coldwater Lake's northern shore.

Looking back towards Minnie Peak

As we packed up and walked away from our stellar lunch spot, I bid Minne Peak and her fabulous surrounding hills a fond goodbye.

John shares his hat with the sign

And here was our final trail junction!  From this point, only five miles back to the car.

Technicolor leaves

The vegetation on the lake's north side was a mix of tall grasses and scrubby deciduous trees.  The trees weren't the biggest, but they were nicely dressed in bright fall colors.

Steve looks for elk

My friends and I passed by the lake's swampy eastern side, spotting a huge beaver lodge.  Then, the waters became clearer, and the bank more firm.  The farther we traveled, the wider and deeper Coldwater Lake became.

Crossing the gravel delta

John, Steve and I navigated through an rocky alluvial fan, the remnants of an old landslide.  Two years ago I'd spotted a herd of elk here, but today our wildlife sightings consisted of only a few birds.

Minnie Peak fills the sky

The north side trail is a pretty one, hugging the lakeshore and giving visitors killer views at each turn.  Since the lake doesn't allow motorized boats, the only watercraft we spotted were a few kayakers.  Hmmm......maybe next year I should explore by boat?

Mt. St. Helens makes a brief appearance

By the time we'd reached the lake's halfway point, I was tired and ready to be done.  Unfortunate, because the last portion of this trail is spectacular.  But in our eagerness to be finished, my companions and I rushed through the final miles, only stopping to photograph the truly jaw-dropping scenes.  The best one occurred just a half mile from the parking lot.  Mt. St. Helens, hidden behind clouds all day, finally decided to show a bit of herself.  A photo-worthy moment if there ever was one.

Looking back at where we'd traveled

Then, the boat dock and parking lot came into view.  A sight for sore eyes (and feet!)  The late afternoon light illuminated Coldwater Lake's surface, turning it a brilliant shade of blue.  I walked out on the dock for one final photo op, and caught a couple of fisherman in kayaks, enjoying this fine day.

Although the fall colors were lacking, the outstanding scenery, nice weather, and great companions more than made up for it.  Besides, any day on the trail is a good one.  Time spent hiking always makes me happy.

Stats:  12 miles, 2000 feet elevation gain.


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