So much for "less elevation, more weight"

Last week after my second trip up Poo Poo Point and Johnny and Joe's third while we were discussing what our next hike would be (pre-IHOP) I left the conversation understanding that we would be concentrating less on elevation and more on adding weight. Little did I know, Johnny and Joe were conspiring behind my back.

Joe picked me up as usual and I had a pack with a light lunch (store bought pre-packed chicken caesar), spare socks and shoes, water, and my wifes 2 ten pound dumbells for weight. When we got to Johnny's Joe talked me out of one of the weights and gave me a couple cans of soup instead. All in all, the pack weighed about 20 pounds total. When we were having a quick pre-hike coffee in John's kitchen, I got my first hint that the goal of the day's hike may have changed.

The plan was approximately 8.4 miles not counting the walk from the house to the trail head. It was strait up right away. We climbed a rapid set of switch-backs that ascended quickly from the road. After about a mile we hit the main Tiger Mountain trail head. And up we went. Up and up. Things began to go off the rails when, about two thirds of the way up the mountain we took an old rail line trail that wraps around the mountain.

It seemed harmless enough. Flat, no douche hikers in jeans, and no trail runners (I hate those guys, crazy in shape bastards). Then it started raining, Duke fell off a small log bridge (Joe is still recovering from that), and we met the big up. The last .6 miles had an elevation gain of 600' and was a muddy narrow mess. It was at this time that I really knew that John and Joe had conspired against me. My new hiking shoes, the weight, the rain, the mud, 100 feet per .1 mile, it was brutal. We got to the top of Tiger 3 (the big antenna tower you can see from Issaquah) and I collapsed hard. As I sat looking out over the town my two comrades decide it was time to tell me they knew it was going to be like that and chose not to tell me so I wouldn't freak out. These are my friends.

The top was great though, totally worth it. Joe fired up the stove, I stirred up the salad, and Johnny prepared the Jamaican Jerk Chicken. We ate like backwoods kings. Even Duke, he got treats-a-plenty.

Then came the down. Johnny has covered the gory details of our "unmaintained trail" all I can add is that after the brutal up, it was the hardest thing I have ever done for recreation. My legs have never felt so much like overcooked spaghetti.

And at the end, that beer was so so good.

Till next week,
Sean