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Mousai trail trial of the Terignota shorts

Exploring Mousai trails

PV jungle adventure tour

Tuesday started slower than planned—hit the White River trailhead at 7. Indian Creek Trail was overgrown and slow-going, lightly tenderizing my shins. By the time I hit the PCT (~12 miles in), the trail was mostly snow-covered but firm. I reached the base of Glacier Peak, took one look at the time, and made the rare wise decision not to summit.

After looping the plateau and rejoining the PCT, I passed a group planning to camp and summit the next day. I decided to return via the White River Trail, thinking trailhead namesake would be more maintained and make a clean loop. I even had it saved as an alternate (look at me planning ahead!).

As I descended, the trail started diverging from what my watch showed. Odd, but not unheard of. Then things unraveled. The “trail” degenerated into a full bushwhack: slide alder, nettles, and sticker bushes. For the uninitiated, slide alder grows sideways, downhill, in a tangled mess. Normally, if avoidance is impossible, I step on the lower branches and push the top ones aside—but here, much of it had burned in a past fire, so the branches snapped underfoot, launching me face-first into stinging nettles and sharp sticks. Progress was agonizingly slow. Every so often I'd see hints of a trail—just enough to keep my hopes up.

The GPS line on my watch (which was already off) kept weaving pointlessly. At one point I crossed the White River. It was no better on the other side. Then I noticed the worst part: the end of my planned route was coming up in a mile, but the trailhead was still 6–7 miles away. And even worse, the White River Trail didn’t even appear on my watch after the end of my route! 

I eventually decided travel might be better on the steep slope above me than the alder-choked mess near the river. A sketchy veggie belay down a waterfall helped cement that choice. Light faded. I put on my headlamp and kept pushing through a gauntlet of torture plants.

After a few bad falls, I stopped. I found a dusty patch of dirt and ash and layered up: jacket, beanie, hat, Rab Phantom pants (which, in hindsight, would've saved my shins some earlier). As bad as it was, I knew I'd be okay. I messaged Jami (off on an Alaskan cruise), saying I was going to sleep and had had a long day (technically true). Then I turned my phone off to save battery.

Lying there, soaked feet, no bivy, shivering, I realized how serious things were. I’d had close calls before—crawled out on a broken ankle—but this was worse. I dug out my InReach Mini (a last-minute pack addition, hadn’t even checked the charge—thankfully it had 80%). I remembered telling Arya recently I wasn’t sure what conditions would make me hit the SOS button. Apparently, this.

I flipped the cover and pushed the button.

A Garmin rep messaged me for details. Then Jami messaged me—my emergency contact, who I’d just told I was going to sleep. Doh! She was, as always, far more understanding than I deserved. The Garmin rep eventually connected me with the Sheriff, who said they wouldn’t start anything until 6am (it was almost 2am) but that, by his map, the trail was about 100 feet above me.

After a few miserable hours curled up trying to stay warm and dodge mosquitoes, I stood. My Rab pants ripped off my blood-crusted legs. Why do shins hurt so much?

At 4am I started moving again, hoping to find the “trail.” I did find a game trail that vanished after 50 feet. I kept traversing and climbing, dodging cliffs and the worst of the plants. At 5:30 I reactivated the SOS. A new Sheriff got back to me at 7:20. His map showed the trail was 1100 feet below me. He was sending deputies, ETA 4–5 hours. I said I’d try descending again, but I was starting to think the trail just didn’t exist anymore.

After a brutal descent through unrelenting brush, I heard the river. And then—miracle—a trail. Overgrown, faint, but real. I messaged the Sheriff, Jami, and Garmin that I could self-rescue. It was still rough—more slide alder and nettles—but I followed that trail like a bloodhound with a GPS collar and a vendetta.

I made it to the trailhead around 12:30pm Wednesday. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I was just glad it was over. My body hurts, but my ego took the biggest hit.

Oh, and that’s what happens to feet after being wet for 30 hours.

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Dave Scheibel

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Return to the box!

Pre flight trail time

Mousai trail trial of the Terignota shorts

Exploring Mousai trails

PV jungle adventure tour

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