Deconstructed Roads

Wells Creek Road leads to one of the most spectacular hikes I know. The Cougar Divide. If you could handle the vertigo-inducing drive up one of the most damaged roads in a state full of damaged roads and you can find your way on the trail that remains under snow for about 11 months a year, your path could lead to a scree slope that puts you up on Mt. Baker. You feel like you can touch the top of the volcano. On an attempt we made in October a few years ago (we couldn't quite make it to the scree slope that time), we drove back in the most spectacular evening autumn light, which I remember as possibly the most beautiful light I'd ever seen that made its way over hundreds of acres of virgin forest, glaciers. Experiencing that October light on Wells Creek Road (regretfully I don't have pictures from the drive down--I was driving! And now I wish I had stopped to snap one) was one of the most iconic Pacific Northwest experiences I've ever had.

It saddened me to learn that Wells Creek Road is now unpassable. Deconstructed. Though looking at the Forest Service website, it is scheduled to be worked on in 2018, judging by our recent visit I doubt that they will be able to fix it without spending millions of dollars. And I'm not sure if they're going to find the reconstruction work worth it, as it's only a handful of crazy hikers and hunters that make it out that far. But to me Wells Creek Road is priceless.

The road is just so wild...

One of my favorite hikes just on the road was on one of those ultra-cold, ultra-clear days in the middle of the winter here. The mountain, the air, the glacial river were just so crystal clear. When we got back to the car, the thermometer read something like 8 degrees, which is pretty cold for this part of the world. Yet we were warmed by that beautiful hike on the road.

I have fond memories of my dogs chasing a black bear in the spring when you're more apt to run into them. And another memory of walking along and suddenly finding ourselves surrounded by fresh bear scat. Both the dogs had that nervous look of just knowing...we made a beeline back to the car, not needing to repeat a potential bear chase.

Our latest visit on bikes did not disappoint either. We took Marcos, who in his senior days, spent part of the day in his Beariot Comfort Wagon for bikes. And my mind was blown by this wildcat beekeeping operation. And the deconstructed road with washouts and gaping cracks split by creeks that weren't there before.

I've read somewhere that there are enough miles of logging roads in the United States to go the moon and back several times. There are so many of them that are just remnants. Deconstructed. Like a text analyzed by Derrida. Wells Creek Road is one of those deconstructed roads leading to places that hopefully might not ever be touched by humans again.

I might not ever muster the strength to ride my bike all the way up Wells Creek Road to the Cougar Divide trailhead to walk that extraordinary hike ever again, but at least I can dream about it.

Council of the Tree on the Cougar Divide trail. Cougar Divide. The road to the top is not good and the trail itself is unmaintained, but persistence yields magical landscapes and a visual feast, from Baker's glaciated slopes to Table Mountain, the High Divide, and the Canadian peaks. When bathed in late-fall sunlight, the spot is incomparably beautiful.Look at the details in the rocks in the background, David's double-hatting, the spooky green of the grass, Lu's penchant for adventure, Petra's deep thought, the incredibly long tree, and the adventure vest in full effect.

Making our way around a pretty sizable washout on Wells Creek Road. I'm carrying the Beariot here, so we can continue riding our bikes down the path. 

Wildcat beekeeping operation. Most likely taking advantage of the fireweed all over the place.