A rugged path winds circuitously through the mysterious, wild depths of Fletcher Canyon. The trail, buried in moss, and paved with twisted roots and slick stones, passes beneath giant and ancient trees, past tiny waterfalls, and through overgrown fields of scree, fallen long ago from cliffs now shaggy with dripping forest. The rain pours down on this green sanctuary of natural splendor beneath the craggy summit of Colonel Bob peak, the water rushing down to pool eventually in Lake Quinault, and beyond the Pacific Ocean.
First, it needs to be said that the road to the trailhead is truly awful right now - potholes all the way from end of pavement on the South Shore road. This situation was made worse by the large quantity of rain that day, which obscured the location and size of the potholes. We had originally intended to hike up to the Pony Bridge on the East Fork of the Quinault, but we had had enough of the road by the time we reached the Fletcher Canyon trailhead, so we stopped there instead.
The trail starts from its easy to miss trailhead up a potholed sideroad, beneath the tall overhanging boulders, and quickly passes by several small waterfalls cascading over vertical carpets of green moss. The trail here and throughout its length is rough, and it's vital to be careful of your footing, especially when it is as slick with fresh rain as it was when we were there.
The trail soon enters a very dark portion that winds through thick stands of young trees that shut out much of the light. At a guess I'd say this area must have been burned a few years back.
This doesn't last long though, and soon the trail breaks out amongst large, elegant, and widely spaced trees. The thick carpet of ferns is spectacular, and knowing that each is likely as old as the trees that tower overhead makes the scene all the more special.
The trail up to this point had been steep and taxing, but eventually it tapered off and began a gently rolling, but still rocky and root-bound, traverse of the canyon slope. Even with our umbrellas and rain gear we were quickly becoming soaked, the vast quantity of precipitation running in torrents from every surface.
However, the shortness of the winter day, the sheer unbelievable quantity of rain continuously hammering down on us, and the lateness of our trailhead arrival thanks to the awful condition of the road cut short our time on the trail, so we ended up turning around prematurely after maybe a little more than a mile. Still, we left well satisfied with our rainforest slog. How could we not when surrounded by such wild splendor?
We stayed at the Lake Quinault Lodge that evening - a warm and welcome refuge from the wet. This allowed me time to stop and photograph several of the beautiful waterfalls in the area, which will be the focus of a future video and photo gallery.
