Epic Hikes of Washington State - Cougar Mountain

 

Cougar Mountain

Date Hiked: August 2nd, 2025

Trail Hiked: Whitaker Peak and Shy Bear Loop Trail to Doughty Falls

Distance Hiked: 9.5 miles

Elevation Gain: 2162 ft. 

Duration: 3h 49m

This mountain is a graveyard of memories for me, and it has nothing to do with the trail itself. 

I didn't know when I was doing this hike that it would (likely) be the last time I ever set foot on these grounds. At the time I was traversing these heights, it was a return to conquer something upon which I'd given up at a time of much lesser endurance than I now possessed. It was a place of sentiment, the subject of many stories, and one where something (once) significant took place that helped shape several years of my life. 

Now, to reflect on it, it is one of morose, of buried emotions that lay dormant amongst the tombstones with names fading into the obscurity of the past. Writing about it is one last journey through moss and a canopy of trees upon which my eyes will never gaze again, and that is a shame because this is a beautiful place within decent proximity to the metro area. 

When my hiking prowess was much closer to the novice level, at a time where I didn't even think to bring a water bottle or proper footwear, I explored this place with Redacted without realizing just how far up we went. The screams of a barred owl only heightened the mystique of this place that created the illusion of isolation despite being mere minutes away from the main drag in Renton. Funny enough, this was my second choice of a location for adventure on this pristine Saturday August morning, after an attempt to revisit the Melmont Ghost Town trail was unsuccessful due to trail closure. Thus, going from Bremerton to Carbonado was a waste of time, and Cougar Mountain ended up being as close to a sentimental callback as the former was intended to be. I'll write about Melmont another time, once I can conjure its similarly dead place in my soul. 

Having completed the summit of Mt. Si a mere week earlier, the immediate slope upward didn't seem as difficult as it had four years prior. But, the trail gives no illusions of gentle ascent, for once one leaves their car in the tiny parking lot (assuming one even finds a spot), the upward climb begins immediately and doesn't let up for a while. Cougar Mountain is a mere third of the height of Si, but confronting that incline first thing into the hike definitely gets the output juices going within the first few minutes of arrival. 

The giant rocks with mossy coats give way to shadowy cavern-like crevices, making it appropriate to throw on some Howard Shore and imagine one is descending into the hidden paradise of Rivendell. How one can be so close to a main road and experience such calming silence is as Washingtonian as one can get in such endeavors, but after a few hundred feet of hanging out with corvids and waterfalls, it's easy to forget the surrounding activity. 

It's beautiful. I hate it now. 

Minnesota State Parks Revisited: Glacial Lakes State Park

Glacial Lakes State Park

Date Hiked: February 3rd, 2026

Trail Hiked: Kettle Lakes Loop

Distance Hiked: 8.2 miles

Elevation Gain: 673 ft.

Duration: 3h 5m

The last time I visited Glacial Lakes State Park was revelatory, and not just because I got an excuse to drop a Kara Thrace reference. In those four seasons during one hike, I experienced a beacon of sunshine from within, where the true self for which I’d been searching finally started breaking through the stratus clouds of the soul. I heard the perfect song, “Fall in Love” by Lazer Club, and I danced along the ancient hills, ripping my shirt off and screaming to the vast horizon that I was finally there.

One year later, I yearned for a similar experience. 

It was only 16 degrees, and yet I didn’t need a coat. The trail was covered by snow and yet I didn’t need my spikes. The park was empty and yet I didn’t feel alone. Having wonderful new friends and a true sense of community despite living history in my city for the second time in six years, the disasters of 2025 were present but not overwhelming me with their aftershocks. It was time to put a capstone on my relationship with this park, as it knew what I needed once. Perhaps the muse lightning in its blissful, non-actual-electricness would strike a second, merciful time. 

Where the Hiking Club trail featured multiple types of terrain, the Kettle Lakes Loop traversed the vastness of the surrounding landscape. Rolling hills despite being in the prairie, ascents and descents with surprising intensity, it felt like the perfection of frozen solitude, the time loop allowing an encore to the prior hike but with a year’s worth of heartbreak and growth alike to fill the in-between. The spaces where routine and response once enlivened predictable yet anticipated mutuality, I now pushed along the vague sense of a trail underneath the drifts purely for my own fulfillment. Sometimes it’s okay to do what you need for no one’s benefit but your own, and I in no way whatsoever claim otherwise for this adventure. This was for me, and I needed something, but I wouldn’t know what until it happened. 

Then, it did.

I let the sax and sky drums of Lazer Club transmit the posthumous beams of a shattered past, with several names now etched into the tombstone of what once was. Then, it was up to the algorithm from the root of that song to find me in this peace. 

Never could I have predicted Bodine Monet’s voice to pierce my snow cocoon of solitude, and yet as I pushed up the steepest hill of the sojourn, there she was.

I wanna drive the highway through the night, I wanna take you somewhere no one finds, I wanna make mistakes that won’t feel right, I wanna chase the hate I’d give my life, for all the love you’d give me, I’m taking it far like a reckless car.

 

Glacial Lakes State Park, once again, was exactly where I needed to be, and that voice scored the soundtrack of my infinity. Thank you, Bodine Monet.

 

 

Superior Hiking Trail #3-2 - Castle Danger to Gooseberry Falls State Park

Happy 100th post to me, thanks for reading! 

Superior Hiking Trail

Map 3 - Section 2

Castle Danger to Gooseberry Falls State Park

Date Hiked - May 11th, 2025

Miles - 14.2

Elevation Gain - 925 ft. 

This marks the point where I stopped trying to Hundred Percent the trail in complete sequential order.

I made no attempts to hide my disappointment with the majority of Map 2. Three hours of driving, no ridesharing available, only to end up wandering through brown grass, ticks, swamps, and not much else, I was on the precipice of abandoning the concept entirely. Therefore, skipping ahead a bit (and returning to do 3-1 at a different time), this reinvigorated my enthusiasm for the trail itself, even if the lack of ridesharing outside of Duluth caused this to be a much longer hike than intended. This would lead me to traverse other sections of this trail with a few hiking friends, or at the very least, bring other people to the North Shore with me who could hang out in the city and then come get me at the appropriate time. Though, due to life circumstances and proximity issues, the continuation of my progress would come at a much later date, as if the series of hikes in Washington didn't already indicate as such. 

Immediately this section starts with climbing up some giant-ass rocks to a lovely aerial view of the Gitchee Gumee. This is what was missing from the majority of Map 2, as the name implies some proximity to the lake itself, but a snowmobile trail through the trees considerably off the shore didn't provide nearly as much. The view from Mike's Rock far exceeds the expectations of such a name. I'm sure Mike is lovely, but in my head, I picture some guy standing on a boulder claiming it as his because he touched it first. 

The descent into the area of the Gooseberry River is a challenge of its own. Even in mid-May, a lot of the dead leaves from the ere winter still carpet the majority of the trail, and can make for an unexpected, involuntary launch down a jagged Slip'N'Slide if one isn't careful. While I wasn't expecting to run into many people on Map 2, the weather, the rising temperatures, and the proximity to Memorial Day had me a little more (pleasantly) surprised at my trek of solitude as the trail wound its way toward one of the most popular parks in the state. Once the river starts to bend, one has a choice of continuing on the main trail or taking a rather comparatively lengthy spur toward Gooseberry Falls State Park. Given that Lyft wasn't pinging anything and there would still be the hike back to the car to consider, I opted to journey the three miles to the visitor's center. I thought maybe being near such a touristy area might change my fortune, but I suppose nobody's taking a Lyft to Gooseberry when it already doubles as a rest area. 

I didn't even know there was a Fifth Falls farther up (down?) the trail, and it's considerably wider than the more famous and visited lower sections. That alone was worth the return trip.

Minnesota State Parks Revisited: Great River Bluffs State Park

 

Great River Bluffs State Park

Date Hiked: October 13th, 2025

Trail Hiked: Great River Bluffs Trail, King's Bluff Loop, Sugar Loaf to Garvin Heights Trail

Distance Hiked: 9.9 miles

Elevation Gain: 1368 ft.

Duration: 4:03:20

The last time I visited this park, the allegedly glorious views from the eponymous bluffs were nothing more than a Pyramidhead haven of the void, which to be fair was plenty appropriate for how I was doing at that time in my life. Imagine my relative delight when I headed back to the Winona area on the revisiting quest and the visibility was quite the opposite! 

One really can't go wrong on the crescent of this state. While there are plenty of gems throughout the rest of the state, some of which I've ranked pretty high, the North Shore and the bluffs along the river road are easily the most consistently good. So much so that in addition to hiking the longest trail in this state park (which, among long trails in Minnesota State Parks, isn't that long), I also decided to stop on down in Winona proper to climb on up to Sugar Loaf, head over toward Garvin Heights, and make a blufftastic day out of it. 

The fall of 2025 was extremely kind toward fools like me, even though I'm someone who will hike in anything above -30. The autumn leaves are lovely, though being from the northeast it's hard to compare to New England, which is likely why the Gilmore Girls binge comes around that time with the season. But, the weather stayed pretty consistently mild until the middle of December for the most part, and as the bugs, ticks, and bears started going away along with the throngs of tourists, I was lucky enough to see state parks like this one without a scarf over my face, thus causing my breath to freeze on my sunglasses. What more could one ask for?

I noted before, but this park is a bit of a pain to get to, including trekking over some roads that would make even the fine citizens of Flint give some side-eye. For what it is, it's beautiful and a nice way to spend a clear autumn afternoon, but given how much wondrous nature and Appalachian-esque terrain is available, it leaves a little to be desired. Maybe I was spoiled by growing up in the aforementioned mountains or spending time on the Superior Hiking Trail close to this time, but I felt like it could be so much more than it is. Great River Bluffs, to me, inspires thoughts of steep climbs and difficulty-pushing hikes, but most of the trails there are already on top of the bluffs. Which is fine, I'm not knocking the access to glorious aerial views, but if I'm gonna travel several hours to hike on some bluffs, I want some sick elevation gain out of it. Thus, I also hiked another trail that starts from the bottom and allows for some leaftastic pushes up the sides of these ridges. 

Great River Bluffs State Park is beautiful and remote, and I'm in no way knocking going to visit or spending time exploring its trails. But, it could be even better. 

Minnesota State Parks Revisited: Banning State Park

 

Banning State Park

Date Hiked: October 6th, 2025

Trail Hiked: Quarry, Hell's Gate, Wolf Creek, Cartway, Cut Off, Skunk Cabbage

Distance Hiked: 8.2 miles

Elevation Gain: 420 ft.

Duration: 2:49:00

 

Banning State Park is pretty cool, but much like Nerstrand-Big Woods State Park, the best the park has to offer is pretty much contained in the Hiking Club trail. 

That's not to say it's necessarily a bad thing. I ranked Banning pretty high up on the list of Hiking Club trails, but exploring the longest trail in this park was mostly a retread of what I'd already seen in much colder context. The above waterfalls were the only noteworthy exception to this rule, and that was merely going down farther than the Hiking Club trail looped back. Very beautiful secluded falls, don't get me wrong, but not really high on the list of reasons to make visits somewhat regular. Granted, Banning State Park has proximity to the 35, which is a major convenience for such things, especially if my fellow completionists can appreciate the Hell that is getting to Lake Bronson State Park from the Twin Cities, but alas. When one can spend a little more time to get to Jay Cooke State Park and everything along the shore, this is a great pick for "I only feel like driving 90 minutes today." 

This opinion may also have something to do with the latter half of the hike. 

Again, much like Nerstrand-Big Woods State Park, what could basically be considered the perimeter route wanders off into the woods on a trail that's far less maintained and not exactly what one might call scenic. Not that it has to be, and at least I didn't run into Joshua the "Holy shit that's a giant" Bear, but I'm also not a fan of dodging thorny vines smacking me in the face like I owed them money, At least it was October so the bugs weren't as awful? Gotta appreciate the small mercies. 

October wasn't exactly late August in terms of how much my 2025 could repeatedly and exponentially go fuck itself, but I wasn't having a great time either. In fact, I was a short time away from someone pulling the greatest reverse disappearance accusation I've ever seen, but fortunately getting my shit together and doing stuff like this has steadied my mental health more than I ever thought was possible. I'm not gonna pretend that as of this writing, my life is in the best place it's ever been, but it's definitely the steadiest. 

I can now hike for hours without feeling an internal spiral that caused ridiculous and impulsive decisions. I can now hike for hours without having a compulsion to torment myself. I can now hike for hours without feeling a growing void within my stomach causing me to fear the inevitable. For the most part, I just am, I just exist. I just go cool places and see cool shit. This place has some of that, even if I've seen most of it before. Not a bad way to spend a day. 

Banning is worth the visit, but I don't feel I saw anything new on this hike. 

Minnesota State Parks Revisited - January 4th, 2025 Redux - Gooseberry, Split Rock, Tettegouche, Temperance River, Cascade River, -30 Degrees

 

Gooseberry Falls State Park, Split Rock Lighthouse State Park, Tettegouche State Park, Temperance River State Park, Cascade River State Park

Date Hiked: December 13-14th

Trail Hiked: Gitchi Gummi Trail, Day Hill Trail, Shovel Point, Lookout Mountain Loop, Carlton and Tofte Peaks

Distance Hiked: 10.8 miles, 8.2 miles

Elevation Gain: 1437 ft,, 1152 ft. 

Duration: 4h 21m, 3h 31m

If I have a trait that can be considered both a blessing and a curse, at least in a hiking context, it's the drive to immediately outdo something that I considered impressive until the moment it was done. 

Burying bad memories underneath new ones to compensate is probably a close second. 

I've merged all these hikes into one entry. Four on the Saturday, one on the Sunday, I consider them a collective because of what they represented in my head at the time. If you've read my Hiking Club reviews, you know that my January 4th trilogy of hikes when it was -30 outside set the bar for what I considered one of my biggest hiking accomplishments of the year. 

Unfortunately, those are laced with bad and redacted memories now, and when put in the position where the time and context are right, even something that stupid and dangerous needs to be outdone. I was at my favorite inn up north, the weather was nearly identical to January 4th, and instead of having to drive up there, I woke up right in the middle of all them already. -30 wind chills, overwhelming bright sun, sea smoke, Minnesota State Parks, but also, about 450 hikes in between created a capstone for a year that began with checking boxes and ended with returning to frozen roots/routes. 

Yes, two of these parks I did a few weeks before January 4th, but I didn't want to just outdo time and distance. Why continue highlighting a day with three state parks hiked when I could do four under the same dangerous circumstances? It made sense in my head at the time.

First, my old friend Gitchi Gummi, before I had the amazing thought that maybe ice spikes would be a good idea when walking on cliffs while they're covered in ice. This time, it was a breeze, and at times I could even feel my face for a few seconds. 

Second, Split Rock. With the snow at least ten inches deep, the daylight being limited, and at least two parks to go to complete my arbitrary quest, I opted for the Day Hill loop as opposed to the full Hiking Club route. While pursuing the Hiking Club would've made this a problem, I was doing this strictly because I felt like it, and perhaps also working on my Hiking Club Adventure Labs (4 done, 8 to go). 

Third, Tettegouche. It's still a point. With Shovels.

Fourth, and the official end of my ice spikes, Cascade River. My best-ranked Hiking Club state park, and that still stands after revisiting many of them when it's not Jupiter outside. 

Then on Sunday at Temperance River, I combined this ridiculous quest with my ongoing pursuit of hundred-percenting the Superior Hiking Trail, so I'll delve in more deeply on that entry. In January, all the hikes combined didn't match the distance or elevation gain from this one alone.

The view from Carlton Peak alone made it all worth it. 

Epic Hikes of Washington State - Mt. Sinai

 

Mt. Sinai

Date Hiked: July 26th, 2025

Trail Hiked: Mt. Si Trail

Distance Hiked: 8.13 miles

Elevation Gain: 3182 ft. 

Duration: 4h 9m

Saturday morning started with an awkward encounter that would be over by the time I descended the mountain. Somehow that was the strangest part of the hike to the Peak of the Twin variety.

Ascending through the fog on a brisk morning, it barely felt like a daytime excursion at all. The canopy of giant trees, of which I'm sure Special Agent Dale Cooper would love to know their names, coupled with the thick, Silent Hill-esque haze to create an eerie atmosphere of isolation. Dare I say, it was downright Lynchian. 

I'm a relative newcomer to the works of David Lynch, only discovering them when Redacted took me to Snoqualmie Falls and talked to me about Twin Peaks. Two years and an autistic need for dedicated research later, I was in North Bend when the news came that he'd left this plane of existence to transcend. The Double-R Diner was covered in a candlelight vigil, an image that will stay in my mind far longer than the circumstance. 

Originally intending to hike Mt. Storm King from a suggestion, I opted for Mt. Si instead because at no place in the reviews was there a mention of needing to use a rope or any areas that were not maintained. Heading up this mountainside early in the morning was a blessing, as both those going up and coming back down were the real hikers who knew the codes of the trails. The descent later would be filled with tourists who didn't, but fortunately that one was significantly quicker. 

Thank merciful Tehlu for switchbacks. Not all my Washington mountain hikes would be so fortunate, but this one would also be significantly more populated. Laura Palmer's theme played in my head as the relatively repetitive views of tall trees and misty mountain hops prevailed throughout the landscape. Trekking poles were also a practical blessing, as one slip could've meant a disastrous sledding hill with only the smothering comfort of ancient ferns as a stop-gap. 

One thing I found quite surprising, and perhaps that's due to the relative isolation of the winter Hiking Club speedrun only months before, was the encouragement from those on the descent. Appalachian Trail-esque, dare I say, were those who didn't have to drive two hours to make the climb, and therefore got an even earlier, pre-tourist adventure. They not only were appreciative of the code, but offered sincere support on the 3000 ft.-plus elevation gain. "Keep going, you're almost there!" is something one could take as condescension in many other circumstances, but somehow on this dreary July morning, it provided the extra verbal assistance necessary to continue. 

As the trail leveled out, a view above the clouds presented itself briefly before giant rocks replaced the dirt path I'd traversed to that point. Would I climb a few hundred more feet to sit on top of the world and enjoy a Luna lemonbar to celebrate my first true mountain summit? Just call me Will Ospreay, because baby, I was elevated!