Exploring A Forgotten Corner of Olympic National Park

A sublime morning after a hellacious night of bushwhacking slide alder

Summer 2020 has been an interesting time to be in the backcountry. Cancelled races have pushed hordes of people onto the most popular routes (iconic trails around PNW volcanoes, for example).

If you know how to look, there’s still plenty of solitude to be had. I keep a running list of places to explore, ideas that trickle in from friends, trip reports, and the internet. The Bailey Range in Olympic National Park has been on that list for a while.

In late August, I managed to get a weekend on Steven Mortinson and Nick Danielson’s adventure calendars. Steven and Nick are professional creatives, capable mountain athletes, and fine conversationalists. I was excited for the chance to explore with them.

Together we ventured into a section of Olympic National Park that sees few visitors. The trails are rough to non-existent, water can be hard to come by, black bears and elk are common, and the slide alder and bees are fierce. If you venture into the Bailey’s be careful - this is a rugged range without easy rescue access or exits.

Here are some photos from the trip

The boys getting ready for some time in the woods.

Nick in full send mode as we approach the catwalk.

Things were going well until the trail vanished into a thicket of slide alder. We fought our way back and forth through the thick branches. After spending and hour or so fighting saplings, we admitted defeat and retreated up the ridge to a dry but beautiful campsite.

We woke up the next morning to an unreal view of the Olympic range. We luxuriated in the warmth of our sleeping bags and brewed up some coffee, I love waking up in the mountains like this.

With daylight assisting us, we found a route around the slide alder and continued into the Baileys. We spent some time exploring the area around Mt. Fairy Junction, taking photos and exploring the high alpine. Our late night shenanigans the previous evening had put us behind schedule. Opting for an enjoyable outing over a likely epic, we turned around and headed back the way we’d come.

As our second day out drew to a close we found ourselves alone. We setup camp watching the light die on the Olympic range. On an adjacent hillside, a bear foraged for berries alongside a couple of deer.

The next broke clear and cold. Anyone wandering by in the early hours might have found three men spooning for warmth atop their perch.

We liberated ourselves from the warm embrace of our bags and packed up with cold-stiffened fingers. Our kits reassembled we hiked, ran, and scrambled out of the Baileys.

When we left the parking lot our goal was to complete a loop covering nearly 80 miles of trail, scrambling, and bushwhacking, in three days. We knew it was a long shot, and it turned out to be a bit too much for us to bite off this time around.

We didn’t even get close to completing our objective, but that didn’t concern us. We had the chance to get out into an incredible place, laugh a lot, and spend some time together.