On the morning of 12/18/02 my journey began with a semi-short walk along HWY 215 until I reached my point of access into Middle Prong Wilderness. It was only a matter of mere moments before the spirits began their usual assault. Quickly, heavy fog rolled in and the wind increased dramatically. Probably to official gale force. As I left the road and started my trek down the path, snow crunched under foot, and moisture dripped from the trees overhead. Occasionally a drop or two would sneak down the back of my neck like icy fingers trying to get a grip.
I worked my way along the Mtns to Sea Trail which would later intersect with my primary goal, Fork Ridge. As I grew closer to the ridge, eerie noises would emanate from the mist. I knew the ancient overseers of Middle Prong were hot on my trail! The wind intensified, sounding like jets streaking overhead or perhaps the roar of angered phantoms.
I proceeded along Fork Ridge at nearly 6000 ft., sometimes dipping lower, only to rise again to crest another summit. The depths of the Wilderness remained shrouded in mystery, as dense fog continued to roll across the ridge at great velocity. After some time, I knew the trail would eventually descend steadily to the termination point. Finally it did, but at an incredible rate, plunging hundreds of feet in very short distances. The trail was littered with fallen leaves making it far more slippery than the snow and ice at higher elevations. It was nearly impossible to even stand. The spirits of Middle Prong took this opportunity to punish me severely for once again entering their domain. Down I fell, over and over. Crashing onto my arms, twisting my knees, and often sliding many many feet before managing to stop. I knew I had to proceed. After suffering repeated injury, I couldn't believe what I saw ahead. It was time to climb again! Up and up, giving up nearly all the elevation I had previously dropped. Naturally, you know what this means. After reaching the crest, it was time to plunge the final 1000 ft to the trail terminus. Slipping, sliding, crashing I went, grabbing at innocent tree limbs for support. Every blow taking a toll as I grew ever more weary with pain radiating through every bone.
At last I made it! I came out on the road. Now, all that was left to do, was hike up the road back to my truck. When I originally planned this outing, I figured I could hitch a ride. So I began heading up the road, making good time. Here comes a pickup truck! Perfect, but right on by they go. I stopped for a snack, and a quick glimpse at the GPS. It looks like I've gone nowhere since I started up the road. This isn't good I thought. After several more breaks, it began to get dark. I found myself taking more and more breaks much more often, and my level of fatigue increased substantially. Still, no one would stop, so I trudged up the hill. Two more cars, both pickups approached, I thought surely, but they blew on by. I began to stumble and wonder if I would ever make it to my vehicle. Finally a couple stopped, as I staggered into the road, and gave me a ride.
I conquered yet another trail in Middle Prong, but not without paying a price. Those spirits who monitor this mysterious place, allowed me to pass, but not without dealing out serious blows. Their punishment was swift and painful. I've arrived home with a story, but it takes all I can do to even stand. Walking is nearly out of the question. I achieved my goal, but it is now time I hang up the backpack for awhile, and lay may own adventurous spirit to rest (temporarily of course). Odds are I may never set foot within the boundaries of Middle Prong again. I don't belong there, and this time, I will heed the warning of the ancients. Well....maybe.
You can almost feel the icy fingers of this skeletal tree trying to reach out and grab you!
