Press Traverse Trail, Women's FKT

The Press Traverse trail is a combination of the modern North Fork Quinault River and Elwha River trails
which traces through much of the original Press Expedition’s route. The Traverse was first begun in 1889
in a push to discover the mysteries that lay behind the Peninsula skyline when viewed from Seattle. The
adventurers labored for six months, spending a large amount of time working near Sequim on an ill-fated
raft to carry their provisions south, before they finally emerged at Lake Quinault.

The trail curves like a backwards ‘S’ through the center of the Olympic National Park, cresting the Low
Divide where you can see the headwaters of the Quinault River. It covers approximately 46 miles of
remote terrain with approximately 7,144 feet of gain and 6,378 feet of loss (if traversed from south to
north). The trail is beautifully set up for backpacking over a period of several days, but Riquelle Weaver
and Carrie Espasandin decided to try their hand (feet?) at covering the distance as quickly as possible.

We gratefully accepted a ride from Riquelle’s fiance to the North Fork Campground on Friday,
September 28th and spent a restless night before dressing in the mist on the morning of September 29th.
Based on past reports of rocky trail and potential blowdowns, we chose to wait until 6:51 when the cloudy
morning lightened a bit.

The terrain is hugely varied along the trail, and we began by making our way through old growth cedars,
ferns, and stands of moss-cloaked maple trees. The river was steely gray with mists disappearing quickly
from its surface and settling instead on everything around it. The trail here was very wet and therefore
treacherous. We found ourselves frustrated, tip-toeing across otherwise fully runnable surfaces.
Especially tricky were the numerous bridges, slick as ice.

We were lucky to have found this weather window so late in the season. The leaves were turning,
mushrooms bursting through mosses and covering every available mouldering surface, and the stream
crossings were manageable. The clouds began to burn away mid-morning and we came across
handwritten notes left by some well-meaning trail maintenance crew (based on the shovel and pickaxe
tethered to a tree near the trail) warning of bees and re-stating that livestock was not permitted past a
certain point. We had no trouble with the bees, likely because of the late season and cool morning.

The trail cruises slowly up towards Low Divide and we found ourselves trotting along high on the
mountain sides above the River. The cedars were mostly gone by this point, replaced with sturdy
Douglas Fir.

Around 11:45 am and approximately 13 miles along the trail, we ran into our first major obstacle. A
rather notable slide had taken out a large portion of the trail and replaced it with a jumble of boulders
and timber. We squeezed through fairly easily with our running packs but I imagine it’d be a challenge
with a proper backpack. It’s a short scramble but I didn’t like it much, it seemed the plug was hanging
out over the actual cliff edge.

At least three times along the length of the trail we noticed small ceramic insulators bound to thick
gauge wire embedded in old trees. While we are aware that early settlers had homesteads in the
present day Park, some of these insulators were found at very precipitous points along the river valley.

We were a little nervous about river crossings so late in the season and after a hefty first rain, but our
fears were unfounded; the North Fork Quinault River was low and relatively slow. Nevertheless, we took
the precaution of finding a clear, sandy crossing in a wide spot along the River. We held hands for
stability and waded through knee-deep water to a beautiful backpacker’s camp on the other side, where
we paused to filter water. It’s not perfectly clear where the trail continues when you get to the other side
but you’ll find it if you bear left just after stepping into the trees.

The incline gets noticeably steeper as you press onwards on a well-manicured trail, aside from the
occasional downed tree. We hadn’t quite reached the peak of the Low Divide when we came across a
bronze marker, which we are accustomed to seeing at summits. We took a picture with it for good
measure. The headwaters of the North Fork Quinault trickle down from the many nooks and crannies of
Mounts Seattle and Christie which border the Pass.

We gave a great impression of Julie Andrews in the meadow scene of The Sound of Music, energized
by the amazing views. We lingered and took photos, splashed through the babbling streams, enjoyed
the stunted Silver Pines, and finally pushed onwards, eager to see the two lakes that occupy a saddle in
the Pass. Lake Margaret is the larger of the two lakes and we chose to sit on her southeastern tip to
enjoy the framed view of Mt Seattle while we lunched and changed our socks.

Our feet were bleached white and wrinkled like prunes from the drenching we’d had on the Quinault
trails as well as the numerous small crossings we’d had to splash through. We sat for longer than we’d
planned, allowing our feet to dry in the sun in the hopes they’d resist the effects of the 28 miles that lay
ahead of us. Finally, we lubed each toe and pulled on clean socks before lacing our feet back into wet
shoes.

The elevation profile shows a steady decline to the Elwha River Valley and we were not
disappointed. Finally, we had reached truly runnable trail!

We took advantage of the dry trail and fell quickly to the Valley floor, barely catching a glimpse of a
beautiful waterfall (Delabarre Creek?) tumbling off the opposite side of the valley as we careened around
switchbacks. We trotted along at a decent pace, squeezing between huge Douglas Firs that studded
this side of the Pass.

A rather large blowdown (Lat 47.734223, Long -123.533414) forced us to detour off trail where we
confused a game trail for the correct route. We took advantage and refilled our water at an ice cold
stream before attempting to reach the trail via bushwhacking. We were probably close but also gained
perspective on why it took the original band of men nearly three months to cover 40 miles of ungroomed
wilderness.

We picked up a few scrapes and bruises before popping out on the Elwha River just 30 feet from the
log bridge we were intended to use. It was about 2:30 pm and the sun felt lovely on our shoulders. We
doctored up our scratches in the backpacker’s camp on the north side of the Elwha River before
pressing onwards, aware of the precious time we had lost in our unplanned detour.

Bang out the miles was our new motto and we hammered them out like we were being paid to (Side
note: we found a nickel on the trail so…). The valley floor was relatively level and the trail defined and
easy to follow. We pointed out the biggest trees we saw and skipped over patches of chanterelles as we
ventured forward.

The forest had changed considerably. The men in the Press Traverse Expedition mentioned the
difference in their journals, though they had gone opposite our direction. The Quinault side of Low Divide
is more often drenched by humid air pushing in from the ocean than the Elwha side and the poor men
complained about how wet and decayed everything was  south of the Low Divide. Though they enjoyed
the enormous cedar trees, I can understand how their misery was magnified by traipsing through the
soggy rainforest of the lower North Fork Quinault River basin.

We had the opposite experience and marveled at the deep moss that framed the trail. Our feet were
pretty tender at this point and we commented how lovely it would be to just lay down in the cushy border.
We resisted, knowing we had a goal in mind. We were still trying to make up the lost time from the trail
detour.

Old growth forests are defined as natural forests (not having been logged, etc) that have developed
over a long period of time, at least 120 years. The trees we goggled at were several times older. It’s
unsurprising that we didn’t meet with any animals on this section of trail because we loudly admired each
towering tree we passed. The trail maintenance here was impressive-- some fallen trees had been
chopped through by hand! We passed a huge downed tree that someone had carefully market with pegs
for every ~50 years of life it lived. We counted over 550 years (someone had written 700) and we had
passed even larger trunks still standing.

Up to now we had gotten away with carrying only a liter of water each, relying on the many streams
dotting the trail on the Quinault side. There is still an abundance of available water on the Elwha side,
even when the levels are as low as we have remarked, but we began carrying more water to decrease
our stopping time and as insurance for any streams that may not have been running. I was happy
carrying about 2 liters.

The single track seemed to enjoy carving across the mossy hills as much as we did and we thanked the
creators of the trail for including these fun little twists and turns. We’d tried to avoid stepping in streams--
fairly easy on this side of the Pass-- but our shoes were still sodden from the Quinault miles and water
squished up between our toes at every step. Another sock change took place next to the Elwha, just
past a picturesque Hayes River Ranger Station cabin. We made some brief calculations regarding our
target time then bent our knees to the task again. It was 5 pm and darkness was not far off, especially
when cruising beneath the dark boughs of the forest.

We briefly visited the Elk Lick Lodge, one of two private fishing cabins still standing from the pre-Park
era. Due to its age, backpackers are encouraged to camp at least 100 feet from the cabin but it is worth
a look!

Back into birch trees and moss-draped maples, we beat feet down the compressed mud track, catching
brief glimpses of the teal-colored Elwha in the fading light. Darkness fell and the headlamps came out.
We were still in good spirits, though our feet ached and our knees protested the downhill we had enjoyed
since Low Divide. Don’t let the last bit of trail fool you! There are some serious inclines before you reach
Whiskey Bend trailhead.

While we were discouraged by the setback early on in the Elwha River Valley, we are proud to have set
a new women’s FKT of 14:33:34. We shouted in glee at the sight of the trailhead and crashed on the
nearby picnic table to rest our feet. Our ride was nowhere in sight, though they knew our location from
the InReach we had with us. As it turns out, we checked every report except road closures! We had a
nearly 7 mile walk to the barricade and our ride back home, bringing our total mileage for the day to 54.
We don’t encourage people to add on this mileage when attempting this thru-hike/run.