Bootprints on the Primrose Path (Feb. 16, 2020)
Posted: February 19th, 2020, 12:26 pm
Well, after Nat’s well-timed callout seems to have rattled some of us old-timers out of the rafters, I thought I’d return from Trip Report Retirement—I really have missed it here—to talk a bit about a path that itself could use a bit of rattling back into existence.
Opening picture: Devil's Rest Trails, with Primrose in red.
I turned 35 the other day, and, like I’ve done since I was in my early-teens, I went for a birthday hike up Angel’s Rest to celebrate, this time with a bit of the Devil thrown in for good measure. I got an exceedingly leisurely start around 2 PM, went up to Angel’s the usual way, took Foxglove up to Devil’s Rest, then came back down for sunset via what’s left of the Primrose Path.
Angel’s Rest to Devil’s Rest
The Angel’s Rest Trail was its usual, muddy, winter self, though there’s clearly been a lot of trail work—particularly lovely rock work in the upper reaches—that has cleaned up a few of the nastier drainage issues. The only new headache is that, for some utterly incomprehensible reason, they’ve built a new bypass trail just west of Coopey Falls. In addition to unnecessarily cutting through some nice forest, the new path also has significant drainage issues: it was one of the muddiest sections of the entire day.
Coopey Falls
The backside of Angel's Rest.
Anyway, I passed several dozen people going up Angel’s, but then Foxglove was essentially deserted. There are a few trees down along Foxglove, but the trail’s generally in quite good condition, and, apart from that last little steep bit before Devil’s Rest, considerably less muddy than the trail to Angel’s.
I love the moss cathedrals along Foxglove.
Devil's Rest
Primrose
At Devil’s Rest, I was surprised to find the beginning of Primrose looking well-tended—far more obvious than it’s been in a while—though, after the initial drop off Devil’s Rest, where it juts east for a little (around 2350’), the trail basically disappeared in brush and blowdown. From there to a few hundred feet below, where it joins the old logging road, the path is basically gone, and it’s just a bushwhack through a somewhat thick section of Devil’s Club. I was very glad for gaiters and gloves, and wouldn’t want to be here in spring or summer.
Pretty sure this is the trail.
Things got more pleasant from the old road to the rocky viewpoints around 1950’. The tread was reasonably well-defined, and there were even a few intact cairns in the rocks. But things degraded again on the ridge descent from the viewpoints to where Primrose joins the Angel’s Rest trail a little above 1650’. The brush in this section seems to have gotten much nastier since the fire.
Near the rocky viewpoints.
A Long Digression on Lost Trails
After I rejoined the Angel’s Rest Trail and began cutting up west to the Rest for sunset, I thought a bit about Primrose and old trails like it in the Gorge. It’s been heartening, since the fire, to see the outpouring of support for trails, and the willingness of so many to volunteer for their maintenance. I occasionally volunteer to do some grunt work for the PCTA in the area, and I’m always absolutely delighted by how many other people are willing to give—often to give considerably more than I am. But I also wonder what’s going to become of the grand old routes like Primrose that receive less love.
Of course, despite appearing in a couple of the old Lowe books, I don’t think Primrose has ever really been official, and I doubt it’s ever received official maintenance even before the fire. But even official trails in areas that have otherwise been reopened—I’m thinking here most obviously of Wyeth, or of Nick Eaton beyond the Deadwood junction—seem to have been largely left out of the area’s reconstruction. Maybe there’s some sense in that. Angel’s Rest probably sees in a single holiday weekend more traffic than Wyeth saw in a year. But there’s also something a little tragic about it.
WTA has a campaign—Lost Trails Found—centered on making old, largely dead trails usable again. And I guess my hope is that, after the Gorge has fully reopened, some organization has the good sense to parlay the community’s initial outpouring of support into a similar effort, not just focused on reinforcing (or building unnecessary cutoffs on) already-popular trails, but on trails that could be popular, if only we made the effort to bring them back from the brink.
Maybe such an effort still couldn’t touch unofficial trails like the Primrose, but it would be a start. And, in the meantime, there’s something to be said just for boots (or, you know: running shoes) on the ground. I spend a lot of time in the Olympic mountains, and there are a huge number of routes there—some once-official, others that have only-ever been booth-paths—that are kept alive by use: by shoes on the ground, and by the occasional hiker doing a bit of brushing. I know guerilla maintenance can be a touchy issue around here, but… when that’s the only possibility, it’s the only possibility.
Sunset
I arrived back at Angel’s Rest just as golden hour was starting. I was greeted, initially, by some yahoo flying a drone, but he soon left, and I had the whole place to myself for a solid twenty minutes. The place gets mobbed, of course, but it’s still really beautiful, especially at sunset.
That lovely little stream just east of Angel's Rest.
Angel's Rest.
I left as the light was on its way out, and was able to run down a bit past the Coopey Creek crossing before putting on my headlamp.
Opening picture: Devil's Rest Trails, with Primrose in red.
I turned 35 the other day, and, like I’ve done since I was in my early-teens, I went for a birthday hike up Angel’s Rest to celebrate, this time with a bit of the Devil thrown in for good measure. I got an exceedingly leisurely start around 2 PM, went up to Angel’s the usual way, took Foxglove up to Devil’s Rest, then came back down for sunset via what’s left of the Primrose Path.
Angel’s Rest to Devil’s Rest
The Angel’s Rest Trail was its usual, muddy, winter self, though there’s clearly been a lot of trail work—particularly lovely rock work in the upper reaches—that has cleaned up a few of the nastier drainage issues. The only new headache is that, for some utterly incomprehensible reason, they’ve built a new bypass trail just west of Coopey Falls. In addition to unnecessarily cutting through some nice forest, the new path also has significant drainage issues: it was one of the muddiest sections of the entire day.
Coopey Falls
The backside of Angel's Rest.
Anyway, I passed several dozen people going up Angel’s, but then Foxglove was essentially deserted. There are a few trees down along Foxglove, but the trail’s generally in quite good condition, and, apart from that last little steep bit before Devil’s Rest, considerably less muddy than the trail to Angel’s.
I love the moss cathedrals along Foxglove.
Devil's Rest
Primrose
At Devil’s Rest, I was surprised to find the beginning of Primrose looking well-tended—far more obvious than it’s been in a while—though, after the initial drop off Devil’s Rest, where it juts east for a little (around 2350’), the trail basically disappeared in brush and blowdown. From there to a few hundred feet below, where it joins the old logging road, the path is basically gone, and it’s just a bushwhack through a somewhat thick section of Devil’s Club. I was very glad for gaiters and gloves, and wouldn’t want to be here in spring or summer.
Pretty sure this is the trail.
Things got more pleasant from the old road to the rocky viewpoints around 1950’. The tread was reasonably well-defined, and there were even a few intact cairns in the rocks. But things degraded again on the ridge descent from the viewpoints to where Primrose joins the Angel’s Rest trail a little above 1650’. The brush in this section seems to have gotten much nastier since the fire.
Near the rocky viewpoints.
A Long Digression on Lost Trails
After I rejoined the Angel’s Rest Trail and began cutting up west to the Rest for sunset, I thought a bit about Primrose and old trails like it in the Gorge. It’s been heartening, since the fire, to see the outpouring of support for trails, and the willingness of so many to volunteer for their maintenance. I occasionally volunteer to do some grunt work for the PCTA in the area, and I’m always absolutely delighted by how many other people are willing to give—often to give considerably more than I am. But I also wonder what’s going to become of the grand old routes like Primrose that receive less love.
Of course, despite appearing in a couple of the old Lowe books, I don’t think Primrose has ever really been official, and I doubt it’s ever received official maintenance even before the fire. But even official trails in areas that have otherwise been reopened—I’m thinking here most obviously of Wyeth, or of Nick Eaton beyond the Deadwood junction—seem to have been largely left out of the area’s reconstruction. Maybe there’s some sense in that. Angel’s Rest probably sees in a single holiday weekend more traffic than Wyeth saw in a year. But there’s also something a little tragic about it.
WTA has a campaign—Lost Trails Found—centered on making old, largely dead trails usable again. And I guess my hope is that, after the Gorge has fully reopened, some organization has the good sense to parlay the community’s initial outpouring of support into a similar effort, not just focused on reinforcing (or building unnecessary cutoffs on) already-popular trails, but on trails that could be popular, if only we made the effort to bring them back from the brink.
Maybe such an effort still couldn’t touch unofficial trails like the Primrose, but it would be a start. And, in the meantime, there’s something to be said just for boots (or, you know: running shoes) on the ground. I spend a lot of time in the Olympic mountains, and there are a huge number of routes there—some once-official, others that have only-ever been booth-paths—that are kept alive by use: by shoes on the ground, and by the occasional hiker doing a bit of brushing. I know guerilla maintenance can be a touchy issue around here, but… when that’s the only possibility, it’s the only possibility.
Sunset
I arrived back at Angel’s Rest just as golden hour was starting. I was greeted, initially, by some yahoo flying a drone, but he soon left, and I had the whole place to myself for a solid twenty minutes. The place gets mobbed, of course, but it’s still really beautiful, especially at sunset.
That lovely little stream just east of Angel's Rest.
Angel's Rest.
I left as the light was on its way out, and was able to run down a bit past the Coopey Creek crossing before putting on my headlamp.