This section of the PCT really tested us – it was hot, water was scarce, there was elevation gain and loss, and hikers around us were succumbing to heatstroke and dehydration. Thankfully we had just enough water to get us through this section.
Leaving from the campsite we found at mile 4.5, we appreciated the early start we got, managing to beat the heat for a little while. However, once the sun rose over the surrounding hills, it got hot quickly. We took our time as we climbed up the hills, then back down towards Hauser Canyon, where we spent the night. We set up camp fairly early in the afternoon, but were content to stay put, wanting to tackle the climb up and out of the canyon early the next day.
In the morning we donned our headlamps, broke down camp, ate a quick breakfast and then headed up, up up. Halfway we met a hiker who had run out of water and was laying to the side of the trail. We didn’t have much water to spare, but we gave a cupful. Shortly after another hiker came to help him out – he didn’t have much water to spare himself, but he actually put on the struggling hikers pack and the two of them were able to make it to a water cache a few miles away. It became clear that the heat of the desert was absolutely no joke, and it was essential to carry plenty of water.
Once we crested the hill we began the slow, steady descent towards Lake Morena. It was in this stretch that we met Charcoal and Struggles, who we would continue to hike with off and on until Agua Dulce. As we approached Lake Morena, and subsequently made our way to the County Park to camp for the night, several hikers asked if we had seen the rattlesnake on the trail that was there just a few minutes ago. We didn’t – I think we walked right by it without seeing it! We definitely made sure after that to keep a close eye on the trail at all times.
It was great to be in an established campground in some ways – lots of water, restrooms, flat ground and shade trees. However, it was pretty loud and crowded – still, we were tired enough to get a good night’s sleep. Oh, we definitely made our way to the Malt Shop – twice! Once for breakfast and again for dinner – even though we had only been on the trail a few days, it really hit the spot.
With the late start and the scorching heat, we didn’t want to go too far on day one, so we stopped at a small, one or two site PCT camping spot just off Forest Road 68. There was no views and nothing special about the site, but there is a flat spot for a 2 or 3 person tent located a fair distance off the road that worked perfectly. We made a quick n’ easy dinner, drank a couple of beers that I packed – they were warm but tasted great and lightened my load a bit for the next day.
We got an early start on day 2 and continued east on the PCT – the trail leveled off a bit, and the early morning air felt nice. It wouldn’t last long as the heat returned with a vengeance. We passed a day hiker that was in a talkative mood – unfortunately due to the pandemic we had to keep a safe distance and didn’t want to linger too long. We continued until we reached a potential camping spot with an open field and a nice view of Mt. Hood. However, it was so early in the day we thought we really should continue a bit further, so we kept going. We soon passed the junction with the Grassy Knoll Trail. This is where I would have turned back in 2018 while doing the Chinook Trail, so I marked the occasion with a mental note that I had just completed an additional 9 miles of the Chinook Trail. Someday I hope to complete the stretch from the Grassy Knoll Trail to the town of White Salmon, and then the stretch from Lyle, WA to The Dalles, but that might be a mission for 2022 at this point.
We continued just a mile or two past the trail junction to a single tent PCT site that had a great view of Mt. Adams and the Big Lava Bed. The heat was still pretty intense, but there was some shade that offered some comfort, with just bunches of swarming bugs to content with. We got there fairly early, giving us plenty of time to rest, take in the view and have some snacks before calling it a night.
We really enjoyed this hike, despite the heat, and it was the perfect pandemic hike as there were just a few people on the trail, no other campers and there were great views of Mt. Hood and Mt. Adams. There are no real Instagram hot spots here – they were all at the Beacon Rock Trail – we drove by there on our way to Panther Creek and the parking lot was absolutely packed. It was nice to log another 9 miles of the Chinook Trail – at this point I’d estimate that I’ve completed 260 of the 300 miles now. I hope to hike the Grassy Knoll to White Salmon section in 2022, and am 50/50 on the Lyle to The Dalles section – I might hike it, or I may just do it on a mountain bike. We’ll see when the time comes!
Steve Jones from the Chinook Trail Association graciously picked me up at the station and drove me to the trailhead at Lucia Falls Park (thank you, Steve). After a few photos I was on my way.
The trail was flat and I was passed by a group of high school cross country runners going the other way—I didn’t know it then, but they were the last people I saw for three days. At the Bells Mountain trailhead I took the obligatory photo of the Chinook Trail crest, and then started uphill. It was a fairly standard Northwest forest trail, but the views started to open once reaching the first clear-cut area.
With a 4 p.m. start I knew I’d only have about three hours to make nine miles. The cloudy skies didn’t help—it got dark sooner than I expected. Time to get out the headlamp. By the time it got pitch black I didn’t have far to go, but being my first night hike I was a little spooked by every little sound in the forest. I saw a pair of glowing eyes at one point but soon discovered it was just a deer.
Woke up without an alarm at 7:45—it had rained lightly overnight, but with my tent under a tree it was relatively dry. Had oatmeal and coffee, then packed up and headed out. My goal the previous night was to reach the Rock Creek camp, but it turned out to be about an hour away so it would have been even more night hiking.
As I approached the Silver Star summit there were amazing views in all directions. I only had a few hours of daylight left so unfortunately I skipped the side trail to the actual summit and joined the Bluff Mountain Trail.
This trail is amazing, and is now one of my favorites in the state. I don’t think many people do it or know about it, probably because it’s difficult to get to. I love talus traverses and this one was exceptional. I made it around to the backside of Little Baldy and Bluff Mountain and a whole new view opened up of the Copper Creek valley.
The wind was picking up and the sun was starting to set, and there definitely was nowhere to camp here so I picked up the pace. About 15 minutes before I would have got out my headlamp the trail met up with a logging road in a large open area—Bluff Mountain trailhead! I set up camp, caught the last remnants of sunset, and called it a night. Didn’t get the greatest night of sleep, but more on that later.
Woke up early in the morning to frost on the tent and a beautiful sunrise, with a view of Mount Hood in the far distance. The bear canister full of food and coffee was frozen, so it took some effort to open it. With coffee made and consumed, it was time to pack up and hit the trail. The day started off with the steep forest road—rocks and gravel created a blister situation on my already sore feet. The road was fine for foot travel, but I wouldn’t have wanted to drive it in a vehicle unless it was a heavy-duty jeep or some other high-clearance vehicle.
Frustration grew as I knew I needed water soon. I walked up the detour back to the road—by now I only had one inch of water in my bottle. Fortunately, about 1,000 feet down the trail there was a light trickle of a stream. It took about an hour to get two liters of water in my bottles, and I cameled up with another liter of water. I was so relieved.
She dropped me off at the general store in Carson, where I picked up some fruit and yogurt and looked at different options. There is is a campground in Carson that I could’ve stayed at, but getting from Carson to White Salmon is not easy. There are no trails and road walking wouldn’t have been a good option either. I called Skamania Transportation and they offered a senior services shuttle for only four dollars. And it’d be there in ten minutes! The driver was super nice and great to talk to and the scenery in that section of the Columbia River was amazing. It was disappointing to see the section I was skipping, but on the other side of the river I could see where I’d be hiking in a few days, including the imposing Mount Defiance.
At the top I encountered a “No Trespassing” sign with a couple of dogs barking behind it—but the trail continued beyond the sign. What to do now? I saw the trail continue to climb, but not in the direction I needed to go. I looked a bit more carefully and saw that the dogs were behind an invisible fence. The sign just pertained to the land where the dogs were standing, not the trail. I opened the gate and was able to continue forward.
Atwood Road hooks up with the Coyote Wall area, a network of trails popular with mountain bikers and hikers. It’s also where the trees thin, the grass is yellow/gold and the clouds part—I was now entering Eastern Washington. The temps also rose about 15 degrees—time to hook up the sun umbrella for the first time. It took 45 minutes, but I finally figured out how to attach it to my pack—should have tried at home first. The panoramic view from here was amazing—I could see a 20-mile stretch of the Columbia River. All the way to Lyle—my end point for the day. It seemed so close, but it really wasn’t.
I made it into Lyle about 6 p.m. and checked in for my first hotel stay—at the Lyle Hotel. It’s really the only option in town, but it’s a great place to stay. The owners are super-nice and the restaurant is excellent. They asked if I’d like a beer brought to my room as I unpacked and took a shower—how could I turn that down? Mentioning that I liked IPAs that’s what they brought me. Ironically, it was from a brewery in my town of Bellingham. Unfortunately, it’s from a brewery I am boycotting—Melvin Brewing, whose “bro culture” and extreme anti-women attitudes should not be encouraged by drinking their beer. I appreciated the gesture, and drank the beer not knowing where it was from, but after talking to the owners they said they would no longer carry their beer.
I spent the rest of the evening enjoying a nice meal, hanging out with the owners, and making a new friend—a fellow hiker and outdoor enthusiast named Elmo. Unfortunately, as the evening drew to a close, I started sneezing and coughing—was this some sort of illness coming on? Nooooo…
I booked an extra night, rested, then had a little bit to eat, and decided to get some fresh air and at least walk the first mile or two of the Klickitat Trail. It was pretty frustrating, such a beautiful and easy section of trail, and I wouldn’t be doing it. However, I knew I would come back and do it someday. I turned around a little past Klickitat County Park, watched a bit of the Seahawks game (they lost), heated up a Backpackers Bistro Mexican beans and rice meal, took some cold meds, and called it a day.
Still not feeling 100 percent, but good enough to camp. I texted my new friend Elmo, who graciously was able to give me a ride across the river to the nearest campground I could find to The Dalles, which was Memaloose State Park. On the ride over we talked about the Chinook Trail, and the possibility of the CTA coming up with an alternate, shorter route that would cut out the Klickitat Trail and about 50 miles of road walking in Eastern Washington and Oregon. Instead, one would go from Lyle to The Dalles, then continue west to Portland. He dropped me off at the park as it started to rain, and I promised him that I’d send him some surf tunes from my record label to use in some of his rock-climbing videos. I set up camp under a tree, made a fire, and rested up more to try to kick this cold once and for all.
Knowing I had a fairly short day of hiking, I had breakfast and packed up camp around 8, then hit the highway. Yes, because Memaloose Park is split in half by Highway 84, and I was on the river side with no access to the other side, I had to walk on the shoulder of the highway toward Mosier. Thankfully, this section had a wide shoulder and for most of it I was able to walk on the other side of the guar rail. After 1.5 miles I reached a tunnel that went under the freeway on Rowena River Road, which would then allow me to access the Old Columbia River Highway. I made my way down a steep slope, dropped my pack over some barbed wire, and then lowered myself down to the tunnel. From there I walked through an orchard and met some workers. I was worried that I was trespassing, and might be in trouble, but they said that while there isn’t public access it wasn’t a big deal and told me how to get through the front gate. Really nice guys, although they thought I was a little crazy to be hiking so far.
Having reached the road, I made my way through the town of Mosier. I had hoped for a coffee and cinnamon roll, but everything in town was closed. I rested a bit at the site of their farmers market, then continued on west out of town to meet up with the Historic Columbia River Highway State Trail. I passed a local who suggested a nice shortcut trail, which featured great views of the river and avoided about a half mile of road walking. I met up with the paved trail, which climbed uphill to the Mosier Twin Tunnels. This is definitely the highlight of this section—cool tunnels reinforced by wood beams, with peek-a-boo views of the river in a couple of sections.
For most of this section, about seven to eight miles, I was able to walk on the dirt and gravel shoulder, avoiding the unrelenting pavement. The views of the Columbia River were amazing throughout. I arrived in Hood River about 12:30, anxious to check in at the Hood River Hotel, take a shower, and get some food. Feeling up for a beer or two, I decided to hit the local microbreweries and get a pint at each one. I started off at Double Mountain with a Black Irish Stout and a veggie pizza, then continued on to Big Horse brewing for a Cornucopia corn lager, which was pretty amazing.
Later met up with Elmo, his wife, Ozy, and their three kids at Pfriem Brewing for an amazingly fun evening of conversation, great beer, and delicious food. It was awesome to get to know them and I hope that our families can get together soon. They’re such great people. Capped off the evening with a schooner at Ferment Brewing, completing my brewery tour of Hood River (skipped Full Sail, which you can find in just about any grocery or convenience store), and then called it a night. This would be my last town day for a while, before heading south to Mount Hood.
Decision Time – Up and Over Mount Defiance, or Skip It
There weren’t many people up there, but I did pass a few mountain bikers, and someone taking his dogs for a “walk.” The driver was in his truck, going up the forest road, and his dogs were tailing behind. I reached the junction for the Rainy Lake Trail—finally, after a long day of road walking, first on pavement, and then on gravel, I would be on actual trail. It was a nice, fairly level trail that didn’t seem to be used too often. Found a pretty little waterfall and filled up my water bottles. Met up with a wildlife surveyor—funny to see him bundled up from head to toe while I was sweating in a short sleeve hiking shirt (it was probably about 45 degrees at this point). It was getting dark, but I reached camp at about 6:30 and had my pick of four sites and chose the one closest to the cute little A-frame bathroom.
This was supposed to be an easy day—Gaia said it’d be 12-14 miles, and a hiker I met near Wahtum Lake said from there it was about seven miles. In the end, it was a 20+ mile day—oh well, it was the most amazing day of hiking as well so I didn’t care. Had the usual for breakfast—a Via coffee and oatmeal, then got underway at 8:30. I thought I’d be road walking to Wahtum Lake, but my campsite was right next to a trailhead for Wahtum Lake. I think what I saw on Gaia as a road is actually a trail. In any case, one must always choose the trail, so that’s the way I went, and made sure to verify with Gaia that I was going in the right direction (I was).
It was cool to see Mount Hood getting closer and closer with each step. Once I reached Wahtum Lake I rested a bit, had a snack, then joined up with the PCT, which would be under my feet for the next 40 miles or so. After an initial uphill stretch, the trail flattened out and I was able to reach 4 mph for quite a way. The highlight of the day was reaching an open area below the summit of Indian Mountain. It was a clear day and I could see Mount St. Helens, Mount Rainier, and Mount Adams in the distance, with wide swaths of burnt trees from last year’s horrific fires. I took a ton of photos, gulped down some water, and continued on.
Met a PCT NOBO hiker, who I believe was from Germany, and talked to him for a few minutes. Unfortunately, he wasn’t going to make it—not because of cold weather and snow up north (although that would have been an issue), but his visa was expiring soon. By this point I was only about 12 miles from Mount Hood as the crow flies, but for me it would be another 25 miles or so of hiking. I pushed hard to make it to Lost Lake Resort before they closed—I didn’t have a reservation, but more importantly, I really wanted a beer. The general store closed at 5 p.m., and by 4 p.m. I still had three downhill miles to go. It would be tight! On my way down I met a couple of day hikers who were staying at the resort, who said there was a temporary sign at the store that said they closed at 4. I kept pushing, hoping today it would be open at 5, but no such luck, and I actually didn’t make it there until 5:15 anyway.
I met a worker at the store who was closing up, and he gave me the scoop on where to camp, which helped. Unfortunately, no amount of persuasion would convince him to sell me a beer, but the thought of setting up camp, having a nice meal, and relaxing were enough for me. Had a Good To Go mushroom risotto for the first time and it was awesome. I love that company! It was getting cold so I popped into the tent, snuggled up in my quilt, and read for a bit before calling it a night.
Lost Lake Resort to Muddy River Camp on the PCT
Shortly before reaching Lolo Pass I started seeing other hikers—the bear was really the only living creature I saw over the first two to three hours of hiking that day. There were some awesome views of Mount Hood, and some not-so-awesome views of buzzing power lines. I talked to a group of hikers about the Chinook Trail, and then met a Scottish NOBO PCT thru-hiker. We talked a bit about whether it was work going to Lost Lake or not, trail names, and the trail. He was determined to make it to Canada, although it was now almost mid-October. We fist bumped and went our separate ways.
I planned to rest and have lunch at Lolo Pass, but without any views or picnic tables (that I could find) I decided to just continue on. The route switchbacked up, up, up, but I kept a pretty good pace, determined to make it past Bald Mountain. That goal didn’t turn out to be a problem—I still had a couple of hours of daylight at the point where I had to complete a backcountry permit and the trail started going steeply downhill.
Reaching the Muddy River, which was more of a heavy flowing stream, I saw a couple of large trees with a rope attached. That was one way to cross the river—but it seemed like there would be a way to cross on rocks somewhere. I looked upstream, but any possible crossings would have required changing into my Crocs, which were at the bottom of my pack. Out of laziness, I decided to just go for the tree crossing. It was actually pretty easy—the trees were wet, but having the rope to hold onto really helped.
The Muddy River PCT camp wasn’t far away—I set up camp and started dinner. While I enjoyed a Good-To-Go Thai curry meal, I watched a bunch of hikers with headlamps pass—some came down the way I came, while others were likely returning from Ramona Falls. Darkness fell, as did the temperatures, so I cleaned up and went into my tent for the night.
My pre-hike research told me that crossing the Sandy River can be a little sketch at times. Thankfully, due to the dry weather and getting an early start, it was no problem at all. One branch was easily crossed by hopping rocks, while the main section of river had a cluster of branches that formed a fairly solid bridge. It was a beautiful area, with the sun peaking over the nearby ridge and a view of Mount Hood in the distance.
However, I couldn’t stay for long as today was set to be a fairly long day of hiking. Entering the forest the trail went up, and up, and up. About 3,000 feet or so, from Sandy River to the Paradise Park area on Mount Hood. As I slowly worked my way upward I was starting to get passed by day hikers and trail runners coming down in the opposite direction. As I reached the treeline the views opened up and were quite amazing—Mount Hood above, and deep glacial valleys below. The ground was frozen here—my trekking poles were unable to break through the dirt, so it was kinda like hiking on rock for a while.
Met Pop Tart, an Appalachian Trail thru-hiker who was out doing some day hikes in the Mount Hood region. Super nice guy—talked to him about his adventures, and I told him about the Chinook Trail. We went opposite directions, but I met up with him later just before I left the PCT to head down the mountain on the Hidden Lake Trail. The top half of the Hidden Lake Trail sucked—it was overgrown, with occasional blowovers. It obviously wasn’t a very popular trail, but with some maintenance it would be a lot more enjoyable. Thankfully, the condition of the trail improved on the lower half, as I got closer to the Kiwanis Camp just outside of Government Camp, site of the ALDHA-West Gathering.
Upon reaching the American Long Distance Hiking Association – West Gathering I checked in at the registration desk, grabbed a beer, and made it over to the grassy area for the group photo (still with my pack on). After the photo I set up camp and enjoyed the festivities—a talk from Jennifer Pharr Davis, a dinner where I loaded up on salad and mashed potatoes (everything else was meat), and I met a couple of fellow Bellingham hikers—Swept Away and Arrow. I also met Rudy from the Cascade Hiker Podcast, as well as three of the people that have completed the Chinook Trail: Allgood, Snorkel, and Marmot. The evening closed with the Triple Crown awards for folks that have completed the PCT, AT, and CDT.
Made it into Government Camp and went to Charlies for breakfast and to watch the Seahawks/Raiders game that was played in London. It ended up being a blowout in the Seahawks’ favor, so I left early for a nice, sunny (and windy) hike up the Glade Trail up the southern slopes of Mount Hood. It was pretty steep at times, but with a slow and steady pace the miles went by quickly. Had a bloody nose on the way—not sure if it was elevation, dryness, or what, but took care of it quickly and soldiered upward. It was nice to reach some of the lower ski lifts of the Timberline ski area—it meant the lodge wasn’t far away.
I woke up early to catch an amazing sunrise, with clear views all the way south to Mount Jefferson and The Sisters. While I wasn’t experiencing the hiker hunger that PCT hikers are dealing with when they make it to Timberline, I did want to partake in the famous breakfast buffet. Have to say, as a vegetarian it’s not great—mainly lukewarm eggs and potatoes, but if you’re hungry nothing beats a buffet no matter what’s in the line. Not feeling the need to hike back down the mountain, as these weren’t miles that were part of my Chinook Trail hike, I took a shuttle to Zig Zag, OR. There were a few miles that I didn’t hike that were part of my intended hiking route, but they were on the Mount Hood Highway. The section didn’t have much of a shoulder, and would have been fairly dangerous to walk, so I think I made the right decision.
Upon reaching Sandy I was starving, and was really craving pizza (a whole pizza!). I stopped at Boomer’s Wall Street Pizza and had an awesome veggie pizza, garlic bread, and beer. I still had about ten miles to go, but it all tasted so good, and somehow it didn’t slow me down later. The workers there were interested to hear about the Chinook Trail, and one of them had done the Oregon Coast Trail recently. The hike to Oxbow Park was all road walking, and except for a great viewpoint of the Sandy River valley with Mount Hood now in the far distance, it was pretty uneventful. Upon reaching the park a helpful ranger assigned me a campsite, brought some firewood, and even called my wife at home to let her know I was OK (despite being only 11 miles from Portland there was unexpectedly no cell service).
This was it—the last day of my Chinook Trail adventure. It was definitely a day of mixed emotions. I had found my hiker’s legs, my 30+ pound pack felt comfortable to the point where it was barely noticeable, and I was really enjoying myself. On the flip side, I was anxious to see my wife and kids again. Oh, and the road walking was causing all sorts of problems—my first blisters, and hamstring issues in my right leg. I was about to finish the Chinook Trail, yet I wasn’t because of the miles I missed earlier. If I had the opportunity I would have found a ride to Panther Creek in Washington and finished the miles I had to skip, but I had to leave that for another time.
The day started with a curious deer coming into camp and scoping things out. I packed up and hit the trail out of Oxbow Park, then walked quiet, rural roads as I headed west. Unfortunately, the amount of traffic increased, and the size of the shoulders decreased, making the approach to Troutdale kinda sketchy. This went for about two hours or so—I had to duck off to the side every time a car approached. Upon reaching residential sidewalks, I knew the end was near—by this point I was only a few miles from Edgefield.
While this is my last post covering my 2018 Chinook Trail adventure, I do plan on completing the sections I missed in 2019. Once that’s done, I will write a final wrap-up post, as well as a guide with tips and recommendations for any of you who want to do the Chinook Trail. I will say that I highly recommend this trail for anyone looking for a thru-hiking adventure, but may not have five to six months to devote to one of the more famous long-distance trails. For more information on the trail, please visit the Chinook Trail Association website at: 
I have posted my Lighterpack list below – there are definitely some luxury items in this gear list, and I’ll have to take a long look at whether I should take everything listed. This summer I went on a few overnight “training hikes” and I went with two sleeping pads—a foam and an inflatable pad. I like the flexibility, the comfort and added protection for the inflatable pad by having the foam pad underneath. They add up to over a pound though, so I may axe one of them – likely the foam pad.
This is an overnighter I’ve wanted to do for years, but with so much to discover in the Mt. Baker area I kinda focused my attention there with my day and overnight hikes, but this year felt like the year it was finally time to take on the Cascade Pass / Sahale Glacier trail. It’s not an easy one – it’s 6 miles each direction, with 4000 feet of elevation gain, but wow, it’s definitely worth the effort! Camping at the Sahale Glacier camp requires a backcountry permit from the North Cascades National Park, so I did some research, found the window for applying for a permit and selected the days that would work best, and patiently waited a few weeks before the approval email arrived in my inbox.
The next section of trail up the arm gains altitude with switchbacks and traverses, and is mostly exposed. It was warm, but there was a bit of breeze which definitely helped. The views of the Stehekin River valley were great from here, and the breeze and altitude seemed to work together to open up views of some of the nearby mountaintops. We approached the area where the bear was spotted, but he was long gone – I generally look to avoid seeing or dealing with bears, while Jason, having seen several bears while living in Vermont, is a bit more comfortable with them and was slightly disappointed not to have seen one on the hike. His disappointment faded quickly as views of Sahale Mountain and Doubtful Lake below opened up – we were both surprised and happy that we could clearly see the mountain, Sahale Glacier and what we thought was the camp from here. We still had quite a ways to go though, so after a brief pause we continued on.
We made a quick dinner, then enjoyed trail beer (or should I say, 
In training for my 
Following that is close to 2 miles of road walking on Summerland/Nulle Road, which takes you under Interstate 5 over to Squires Lake Park. I’ve done the trails here on the way up to Alger Alp before, and it’s a nice trail with several cliff-side overlooks. It was more uphill though, which at mile 14 of the overall hike wasn’t super-welcome, but it’s fairly gradual so it wasn’t a big deal. The sun was starting to come out by then, so my clothes and pack had a good chance to dry. The trail turns onto forest roads as you continue south, ultimately spilling out onto Alger-Cain Lake Road, right near the town of Alger and the Alger Bar & Grill, which was where I ended the hike with a veggie burger and a beer. Conveniently there is a Park & Ride about 1/4 mile with buses to Burlington and Bellingham.
Wow, if you are looking for a way to really test your body this trail is for you! According to Gaia, this was 2.88 miles from trailhead to top and the ascent was 3,136 feet. What that doesn’t tell you is about .88 of the trail is a gradual ascent, so you gain most of that in about 2 miles. Get ready to huff and puff on the way up, and possible blisters and jammed toes on the way down.
Reverb Hiker - Pacific Northwest Hiking & Musings On Surf Rock 
