Seven Pass Loop


Slate Peak Looking WestMuch of the Washington North Cascades wilderness hiking starts you off at lower elevation trail heads. From there, it often seems that you are climbing and climbing until nearly all your strength has been sapped out of you and you are left asking yourself, “What the hell am I doing here?” You want to enjoy your adventure with out having it feel like it has been like a full day of strenuous work. Now I know that nothing good is ever accomplished with out taking the first step into hard work, and in the North Cascades of Washington State, this is all so true.

I have found a jewel of a trek that starts you off high and keeps you there, at least for the most part. This trek is formally known as the ‘Seven Pass Loop’. It is so named because it traverses you through seven North Cascades passes and returns you to your starting point. You start your hike by stepping forth onto the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) at Harts Pass and traverse northbound ultimately winding through Buffalo Pass, Windy Pass, Foggy Pass, Jim Pass and Holman Pass. At this intersection you leave the PCT and descend into the Pasayten Wilderness Area and proceed southward along the West Fork Pasayten River. Finally you ascend out of this glacier formed wilderness climbing over Slate Peak and then through Slate Pass. Thus rounding off your seven pass loop journey.

As I mentioned above, “Start high and stay high.”, was the very reason I chose to take on this adventure. I had visions of not having to ascend thousands of feet just to get to that one spot where you can drop your pack and jaw at the same time and gaze out into the wonderment of Mother Natures beauty. While struggling to free up the camera so I could capture the moment before it all changes. So I packed up my gear and stepped out onto the trail under a sunny bright blue sky with temperatures in the mid eighties, a bit hot for the Cascades, but I’m going for it.

I stepped out onto Pacific Crest Trail at Harts Pass and began ascending from its 6283 foot elevation. After climbing a bit, I soon came out into some open meadows filled with lush greens of forest giants and its under growth. To complement this, along the way are a variety of wild flowers blossoming their identity with vibrant colors of white, orange, violet, blue and yellow.  I proceeded at this elevation for a few miles with Slate Peak to the east passing underneath its lookout tower and gazing upon some very magnificent views of Jakita Ridge, Hells Basin and Devils Pass to the west. I yielded to temptation and withdrew my camera and shot up some panoramic’s.

As I continued my crest walking, I soon entered more forested terrain with lush undergrowth, shaded by pine, spruce and cedar trees. The trail continues in and out of open meadows much in the same way until your vistas start to open up to the east, giving you your first glimpses of the West Pasayten River drainage with the Gold Ridge Mountain Range towering sharply above to the east.

As I proceeded northward along a will defined trail, I meandered myself up through Buffalo Pass and slowed my pace to soak in the west vistas and wonders of Cady Point, Mount Ballard and the peaks of the Majestic Mountain Range. After Buffalo Pass I climbed up into Windy Pass. After reaching its heights I soon learned why it is called ‘Windy’, although its name sake was hint enough. But the wind is of no bother when experiencing the grandeur of the Gold Ridge Mountain Range with Pasayten Peak nestled in its center. Further to the east and southeast and in the distance are the peaks of Wildcat Mountain, Devils Peak and Robinson Mountain. All standing tall and proud beneath a warming sun. The views are spectacular and I state that with no stretch of the imagination. In addition, when you are on top of Windy Pass, you get a sense of being on top of the world. At least in this region. Add to that the lush green carpeting of the forested mountainsides of the Pasayten River drainage, are just ‘jaw dropping’ to say the least. Of course more ‘snap - snap’, ‘click - click’ while holding onto my hat. They were just beautiful under that sunny blue sky with storm clouds rising off into the distance.

Pushing onward from Windy pass and continuing northward, I came out into a large meadow area with some nice views and climbed upward to 6700 feet before descending through a long series of switchbacks as I approached Foggy Pass. Once I entered Foggy Pass I began to sense that there was not much change in elevation between Foggy and Jim Passes. It is as if someone approaching from the south named it Foggy Pass and someone else approaching from the North named it Jim Pass. From the westside of the mountain range from which the trail weaves itself through, I was unable to tell the difference from one pass or the other. It was not until I crossed over the river drainage and ascend upward along the Gold Ridge Mountains that I was able to differentiate between Foggy and Jim Passes.

As I was approaching Foggy Pass, the storm clouds I mentioned before started thundering about. I could hear the thunder off into the distance, but lighting was not visible to me yet. I stood for awhile and studied the direction in which the storm was moving and from where I was standing just north of Foggy Pass, the storm appeared to be moving in a westerly direction. Being I was moving in a northbound direction, I surmised that the storm would pass south of my position and I would be on its northern outskirts.

Shortly after this time of contemplation I did witness a lighting strike in which the lighting to thunder time ratio was less then thirty seconds. The general rule for safety is thirty seconds and you are considered to be in the danger zone. But still studying the cloud movement, I believed that the storm would pass to the south of my onward positioning. But to my surprise or maybe bewilderment, the lighting strikes were getting closer. And then while taking a rest break between Foggy and Jim Pass and enjoying a snack, a lighting strike flashed before my eyes and I counted one second before the thunder was echoing in my ears. One second lighting to thunder time ratio equated to about one fifth of a mile that lighting strike was from my position. That was an eye opener to say the least, but all that I was concerned about at the time was, “I sure hope that didn’t cause a forest fire.” Here I am concerned about a possible forest fire, which is valid enough during a thunder storm, when I should have been searching to establish a place for shelter. But instead, I pressed onward into Jim Pass.

There I am, trekking along with a thunderstorm near by. Then I stop, notice and ask,
“What’s this I see? Oh yes, raindrops. Tiny, little raindrops.”
“Okay, nothing to worry about. It’s just a small sprinkle.”
Then the sprinkles turned into showers. And then the showers turned into a downpour. And if that was not enough, the downpour finally turned into a hail storm with at least quarter inch balls of ice plummeting to the earth below. Oh yes. what was that thirty second rule again? There wasn’t much else to do except to get down from this elevation quickly and seek a place to set up shelter. But the storm was relentless. I pushed hard through the pass while the storm continued with its deluge, all the while searching along the way for a space wide enough to set up my shelter. But, none was to be found.   

Suddenly there was a small area under some tree limbs wide enough to defuse the onslaught of hail and hard rain pounding on me. The ground underneath the tree limbs was somewhat dry considering the surrounding environment. But, there was only enough room to stand. So I took up refuge and waited for the blunt of the storm to pass. I stood and waited as I watched a dry trail turn wet, then flooded and finally covered with white ice balls of hail. Meanwhile, off into the distance I can hear the lighting strikes getting closer. Then suddenly another flash before my eyes and a second latter, Mother Natures surround sound of thunder. Another strike about a fifth of a mile away.

As I waited under the shelter of those tree limbs, Mother Nature pounded the area with five more lighting strikes with in a mile of my position. And just think, a short time before I was worried about a forest fire. Besides being patient, what do you do during a time like this? Prayer comes to mind. Just like there are no atheist in foxholes. Well there are no atheist when Zeus is plummeting lighting bolts from the heavens with in a mile of the only place you feel safe at the time.

Finally the storm started to lighten up and at this point my only concern was to get down from this elevation and find a place to set up shelter. I finally pounded my way through Jim Pass beneath the ridge of the ‘Devils Backbone’ (a fitting place for a thunder storm), on flooded trails and water run off flowing downward from the mountainsides. Even though the storm had lessened up, it still had its moments of fury, just to remind me that ‘She’ was not going to pass me by to the south. So much for weather forecasting.

I pushed onward through the Devils Backbone and a series of switchbacks down from the mountainside. My eyes searching up the trail and its sides for a space just large enough to set up shelter. Suddenly, just along the side of the trail there was a spot just large enough to set up my tent. I stopped, sized it up and decided that this will be the spot. Then I looked up the trail a ways and thought, “I’ll venture up for about two or three hundred feet and see if there is any other spot more worthy. If not, I’ll return.” So again I proceed, and as I crested over a ridge there it was, three beautiful campsites just for the taking. No reservations needed. It was like, ‘Home Sweet Home’.

At this time I had fair weather, meaning ‘No Rain’. So I set up camp immediately and proceeded to get into some dry clothes and a warm sleeping bag. Just as soon as I stepped into the tent, it started all over again and this time the rain kept up consistently for about three hours. It was like having your head inside of Mother Natures snare drum. After taking care of my wet clothes, I soon dropped off to sleep. And after the rain had passed, sleep became a welcomed pleasure in this peaceful and very quite campsite.

Morning came soon and there was no way I wanted to roust myself out of my woolly warm sleeping bag. But, it is a new dawn and the skies have cleared themselves of there darken storms. Chores needed to be done, so I trudged myself out of my cocoon. In the quite of the morning while warming myself with a cup of tea, I could hear elk barking off their warnings nearby. After completing the necessities of the morning, breakfast and clean up. I broke camp, packed it up and slung it onto my back. Onward I continued under partly cloudy skies, showing promises of warming up. It had all the makings of a beautiful morning.

I continued along the Pacific Crest Trail through mostly forested terrain, downhill through a series of switchbacks and finally arrived at Holman Pass, elevation 5049 feet. This is the first intersection for my loop adventure. From here the trail continues westward to Sky Pilot Pass or northward along the PCT to the Canadian boarder about twenty five miles away. But, for me my destination is eastward along the Holman Creek Trail until I reach the West Pasayten River. I chatted a short time with a couple hikers venturing southbound along the PCT from Canada and one other adventurous gentleman who was crossing Washington northward along the Pacific Crest Trail, and was now on his last thrust to Canada. A school teacher from Maine, he had doubts that his students would believe him on completing such an adventure. So I took a snap shot of him enjoying his afternoon lunch. For a PCT hiker, lunch does not amount to much. But the smile on his face said it all, “I’m loving it!”

It was time to venture onward, so I headed eastward along the Holman Creek Trail. This trail, although not as well maintained as the PCT, is well defined as it weaves itself through some open meadows in which the trail is nearly overgrown and then back through some more forested terrain. Not much in vistas to gaze upon through this section, but there are some good examples of old and secondary growth timber. The Holman Creek Trail, descends into the West Pasayten River valley and after crossing Holman Creek a couple times you finally reach the West Pasayten River trail intersection nestled at a elevation of 4797 feet. So much for starting high and staying high. At this point my destination is southward trekking upstream of the river and ultimately climbing till I reach Slate Peak, and then a short jaunt through Slate Pass. That’s the game plan. 

As I continued along and crossed Shaw Creek, I then decided to set up camp here and bask in the afternoon sun. This campsite is nice and peaceful with a small creek passing near by. Which was good for me, for I was in need of a good source of water and a hot meal. I went about my chores to get myself settled in which I lazily accomplished. I proceeded to take some readings to get a fix on my position and to my surprise I noticed that last night I was camped on the upper end of Shaw Creek and now here I am at its lower end. Wow, what a difference a day can make. From stormy weather to a bright sunny day. From one end of Shaw Creek to the other end.

After setting up camp, I nestled up back against an old cedar and started reading the journal account of Richard Proenneke’s, “One Man’s Wilderness”. An exciting, quick read and excellent entertainment for a trek like this one. After pushing through a number of pages, my stomach was signaling me that it required some attention. So I fired up the camp stove and prepared a hot batch of beef stew, which I seasoned up with pepper and dove in head first. Yummy! What a nice feeling in the tummy.

After dinner I decided it was time to snuggle up inside my cocoon and let the remainder of the day bring its blanket of darkness over me. As the night fell over the forest and covered it with its own shade of black, I once again was able to enjoy the blessing of clear skies and the bright stars of the universe shining down upon me. With that vision coupled with the sounds that a forest can make, I slumbered into sleep. Oh blessed sleep.

Morning sunlight pushed the edge of darkness away, clearing the skies so as to bathe the earth with its warming rays. Natures alarm clock started whistling there morning songs to roust the sleepy heads lodging in the forest. After crawling out of my morning slumber and warming up to a hot cut of tea, I continued to make my journal entries. Then all of a sudden I heard a ‘Thump - Thump’. As if a rock had fallen. I slowly turned my head and before my eyes was a beautiful full grown deer not more then thirty feet away. We stared at each other for a while, each of us wondering who was going to do what next? So I slowly rose and broke the stalemate. The deer swiftly trotted off. I thought, “Boy, if I had my camera now.” So I trotted off to get it.

After securing my camera I returned to my journaling and as time passed, so did the deer. I tried to get pictures, but they were smart and crafty. All in all, I counted seven deer that had passed through, or I should say near my campsite. Just when I thought I was not going to be able to get a good picture of this gentle forest beast, I looked up and spotted a large deer standing behind my tent staring at me as if to say, “Okay, I know who you are. I know what you want. Go ahead. Give it your best shot. This is your chance. Do It!” So I picked up the camera and ‘snap - snap’, I got him. He just turned his head and walked away. I just smiled and shook mine from side to side. 
Deer at Shaw Creek Campsite
What a blessing that was. Often these animals are so cunning and shy they often stay clear of us two legged beast. In giving it some thought, this campsite was most likely there way to the creek and I was their interruption to there morning routine. Didn’t mean to intrude, but I enjoyed the company anyway. The morning moved on and the temperature started to rise, warming the tree covered forest as the sun climb above its canopy. I prepared my breakfast and broke camp. I packed up my backpack, slung it onto my back and once again stepped forth into this wonderland.

Backpacking in the wilderness is almost a two fold adventure. There is the hike in of its self. And then there is the camping. To me, the camping is the loll of the adventure. No doubt that it is important, we need our rest, we need to eat and take care of other things that we can not necessary do while on the trail. Once you decide to step off the trail and set up camp, all of a sudden you have all these chores to tend too. Your day hasn’t ended. And in the morning, it’s the same but generally in the reverse. For me, all I really want, is to be out on the trail. The trail is the adventure.

So I continued my cadence along the West Pasayten River trail heading southward under blue and sunny skies, following its lead as it traverses me through some open meadows and forested areas. All during this time the trail is ascending along its length until it finally leaves the river bank and starts to seriously climb towards Slate Peak. Prior to the cutoff from the river there are a few nice campsites between the river and the trail with in open meadows and cooling shade trees. Here I took my lunch break and cameled up with more water.

Availability of water is a concerning factor while traversing the Seven Pass Loop. If you have an opportunity to fill up on water, grab it! For these opportunities are few and sometimes far between. Once I left the river and started my climb towards Slate Peak, I decided to look for a place to bed down early for the night. Most of the trail ascending Slate Peak is ‘ridge walking’. With mountain sides steeply jutting upward from the trail and cascading into ravines on the other side of the trail; suitable places to set up camp are nearly non existent. The only level area is the trail itself, one or two feet wide. No place for ‘home sweet home’. To add to my concerns, I took notice that the barometer was dropping and storm clouds were forming up ahead. I did not by any means want to be coughed in another deluge. Finding a suitable campsite was my number one priority. If I could find a small enough area I could make it work, but nothing showed any promise. So I kept pushing onward, while storm clouds kept thickening up and the thunder started to roll at its own beat. Which got my adrenaline pumping.

I have got to find a place for shelter. I can not stay on this mountain with out it. In my mind it was as if Mick Jagger was singing, “Give me shelter”, while prancing up and down this trail. So I kept plowing ahead, moving upward, upward and upward. Then suddenly in an open clearing there was a small level area between two boulders, just wide enough, maybe a little larger, then what my tent needed. My God it was better then striking gold. It was ‘Eureka’! And I didn’t need a reservation. I jumped off the trail, threw off my pack and started to set up camp. See what I mean by chores? But, these chores were welcomed. Just as soon as I settled myself into the tent, guess what happened? That’s right - here comes the rain, followed by hail. But this time I was warm, dry and under shelter. You can’t get much better then that. Not even at a Holiday Inn Express.

Even though I am with out a water source and under some foul weather, I must admit that this campsite offers up some nice vistas of the mountain passes I had recently crossed while traversing the Pacific Crest Trail. I can identify them and point them out. It gave me different a perspective of what I had recently accomplished while crossing these passes. It was interesting while I walked the crest of the Gold Ridge Mountain Range observing what I had recently accomplished while traversing the PCT. I would think, “Wow! Just the day before yesterday, I was over there.”

Morning arrived and it is fifty one degrees and the skies have cleared themselves of a troublesome burden. I slept well snuggled up inside my little cocoon beneath the towering walls of Haystack Mountain. I can see Slate Peak from where I sit and I think, “Your next.” So as I wait for my tea to cool down and the sun to crest over the ridge and warm my back, I will make preparations for breakfast, break camp and start my assault of Slate Peak. But first, I will soak in the grandeur of the mountain ranges as the golden glow of sunlight warms up its east face.

Again, back on the trail for the long lonesome climb up to Slate Peak. This stretch of the climb is a cardiac workout. The trail ascends steeply along long switchbacks on a trail path of loose granite gravel, rock and shale. Ever step for sure as to be a sure footed step. It is a long ways down the granite mountain if the worst was to happen. But, as you climb up, the views get more spectacular as you crest walk Haystack Mountain. Once you nearly reach the summit, then the vistas really open up. From this point on, it is hard to keep your eyes on the trail with such spectacular views all around. but safety is the key and being sure footed is the rule. The trail conditions require it.

As I gained closure to the mountain top, I still have difficulty keeping my eyes off of the horizon. I am just baffled by its majestic beauty. After reaching the top of Slate Peak, at an elevation of 7488 feet, I immediately flung off the pack and grab the camera. Oh yes, that familiar ‘click - click’ sound. From this vantage point I can see just about where I started my venture. All through the mountain range in which I had followed the Pacific Crest Trail. I can view Holman Pass in which I had crossed over into the West Pasayten River valley. I can look upon the glacier craved out river drainage in which I had followed southward beneath the Gold Ridge Mountain Range, up to and including the point in which I left the river valley and ascended Slate Peak. I stand on top of this mountain and feel so very small considering where I have traveled with in these mountains and valleys. Sense I left the Pacific Crest Trail, I have not seen another human being for three days. Solitude has a certain degree of bliss to it and while I am out here, I welcome it.

It was time for me to get up and push onward again. Except this time the easy part comes. It is all down hill from here, as they say. I will make a decent from Slate Peak and continue southward through Slate Pass, catching the PCT. Then continuing onward to Harts Pass, where I started my journey. Going downhill some would think is easy. Sometimes I’m not so sure. it can take a toll on your knees, plus you have a tendency to pick up your speed, adding more shock and vibration. For me, just give me level ground where I am more effective. In these mountains, ‘Fat Chance’.

After crossing Slate Pass, I picked up a small cross over trail onto the PCT. After reaching the PCT, I continued southward through open meadows and forested growth, all much the same as it was when I was heading northward. Soon I reached Harts pass and completed my Seven Pass Loop adventure. Home again - home again.

To surmise, I guess I would have to add that this loop trail offers some of the best alpine hiking in the North Cascades. The Seven Pass Loop adventure starts you up high and keeps you there over most of the route. Notice I said “most of the route.” And as you can surmise from my testimony, ‘Seven Pass’ is an adventure in of itself. With many wonderful sights to gaze upon, the adventure will burn memories into the vaults of your brain. ‘Seven Pass’ will provide an physical exhilaration and a great sense of accomplishment. You not only get to experience the wilderness, you get to feel as one of it. You get to understand that this creation is here for all of us, forever. That we are just a microcosm of the big picture, but endowed with the power to alter or improve that picture.  There is only one way to experience such a paradigm and that is to step out onto a wilderness trail and allow the trail to take you away. One such adventure is the ‘Seven Pass Loop’.

To start your adventure just link yourself via the links listed below.

Seven Pass Loop Trail - Directions

Seven Pass Loop Trail - Maps

Seven Pass Loop Trail - Pictures