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we-were-meant-to-be-one · 1 year ago

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One Final Time

JDronica post-canon - brief mention of sex, angst, hurt/no comfort.

It had been a handful of months since JD’s stunt. Veronica had convinced herself she was over it. She wasn’t. She wouldn’t admit it, but she was miles from it. She thought about him whenever she saw something bright blue. She thought about him whenever she saw a cigarette. When she saw a gun. A motorcycle speeding down the road. Corn Nuts. She thought about him every time she passed Heather’s house on her way to and from school. She thought about him every time she went to the woods behind Westerburg High. She thought about his smell, his funny smile, his laugh, his stupid coat. She also thought about what a dickhead he was. He killed 3 people. Correction: they killed 3 people. But he was a part of it. He was the mastermind. He gave her ich luge bullets. If only she had taken German. He must’ve thought he was a genius, sneaking something like that in. She had only figured out the meaning after his death. She wished she had found out before Ram and Kurt were dead.

She had snuck into his room the night after his suicide. She took in his hamster. She didn’t know its name, so she went with Snappy. Jason had talked about him, but never mentioned a name. She had to take Snappy, since God knows Bud wouldn’t take care of the poor thing. Veronica couldn’t collect herself enough to rummage through his room, though. Snappy was all she had the capacity to find.

Her thoughts of Jason had been subsiding, though. Of course, she’d probably never forget him, but she wasn’t thinking of him every day like she used to. She considered it an improvement. The days ticked by, until she reached February 13th. The day before Valentine’s.

Jason was never the romantic type. He bought her slushes from time to time, but that was about it. They never went on traditional dates. He said he loved Veronica in cryptic ways. His favorite was to tell her that their love was God. Whatever the fuck that meant. Jason was more of a physical boy. He always wanted to touch her. He was always trying to have a quickie with her between classes in the janitor’s closet. Their first time together, in her backyard, was the only time she’d truly felt loved during sex. Her 8th grade boyfriend and her one boyfriend after that had very little regard for her comfort. Jason was rough, without a doubt, but he tried to keep her comfortable. Thinking of sex with him made her shiver, both in a good and bad way. She remembered when their relationship was spiraling and everything was coming to a close. He had kissed her involuntarily twice. Once when she broke up with him and again in the boiler room. She didn’t like to think about it. She broke away both times, but was conflicted. Of course, she was disgusted, but she still liked those kisses a little. One last indicator that he was hers and she was his. Even if it was against her will.

It hurt her heart to know they’d never celebrate a Valentine’s together. Even if he wasn’t romantic, Veronica was sure he’d get her a flower or chocolates. Snappy Snack Shack typically sold those shitty chocolates in heart-shaped boxes. Maybe he would have gotten her one of those.

Here she was, sitting on her couch. February 13th. The day before Valentine’s. A day she’d never spend with Jason Dean. She had no plans. She didn’t have a date or a party to go to. Veronica rose from the couch, going upstairs to her room. She sat on her bed and grabbed her diary from its hiding spot between her mattress and headboard. Thumbing through the pages, she landed on the one she was looking for. The first day after spring break. She wanted to see what she had written there.

As she read through, her eyes welled with tears. Past Veronica had mentioned this “dark horse”, how handsome and funny he was. How he had pulled that thing with Ram and Kurt. How he seemed like he didn’t give a fuck. How he was a “cool guy”. If only Past Veronica knew what she did. He was funny and handsome, but he was a monster. How he would go on to kill 3 people with her. How he would try to kill hundreds more in one big explosion. A tear dropped onto the page. Veronica shut the book and put it back in its spot. She wanted to see his room for the last time. She wanted to feel a little bit of him before Valentine’s.

She left her house, telling her parents she wanted to grab something at Snappy’s. She walked down the block, past Heather’s house. Past Snappy’s. Past Westerburg High.

Eventually she stopped. She stood in front of the tree next to his window. Making her way up the tree, she hoped the window was unlocked. She reached the top and pulled the window up. She transferred herself onto the window sill and gazed into his room. His room was silent and cold. It was in the state it had been the last time she entered. Except some of the drawers were opened and there were papers scattered everywhere. Bud. He must’ve been rummaging through Jason’s drawers. For what, Veronica didn’t know. She assumed he wanted booze money. She hoped he got it. She wanted him to drink himself to death.

She inhaled and prepared herself. Gingerly setting one foot on the floor below her, she followed with the other. She was standing in his room. She made her way deeper. She didn’t know what she was doing there, really. She just knew she needed to be there. She walked towards the bed and sat down. The mattress sunk under her and made a quiet squeak. His bedspread and pillows were nicely arranged. Veronica looked down at her lap. Her hands were trembling. She knew she could cry at any moment. Looking to her right, she saw a paper on his nightstand. It was in what she presumed to be his handwriting. It fluttered in her hands when she picked it up. The first three words took her by surprise.

“To my love”

This paper was… for her. Her hands shook more. She had to read it, even if it killed her inside.

“First, I think you’re alive. That noose was way too loose. I could tell. I didn’t have the heart to tell you I knew. Moving on, this is my suicide note, I guess. I’m sure I’ll never give it to you, especially if everything goes according to plan. We’re going to die together, along with every student and teacher at Westerburg High. The school will be ash, along with us. Poetic.”

Anger welled up in Veronica’s heart, quickly replaced by sadness. Her hands were gripping the paper so tight it was wrinkling. She loosened her grip. Glancing to the next paragraph, she noted that the handwriting was visibly shakier.

“V, you’re the love of my life. I know it doesn’t seem like it. I know I’ve done shitty things. I know I’m about to do something even shittier. I know I can’t control myself. I know I’m a bad person. But I also know that this is the only way I cope. Veronica, I accept that you won’t understand. That’s okay. I love you. If there’s a heaven, I hope you go to it. I know I won’t. I hope you and every other student have a wonderful time up there. Maybe they’ll host a dance. A prom, even. A prom in heaven. Veronica, I’m not sorry for what I’m doing. I never will be. I’m aware it’s wrong, but it’s what I must do.

Seeing you in the cafeteria on my first day opened my eyes. I saw a beautiful girl trapped by her status. You needed my help. You needed to see what I saw. I needed you to see what I saw. You’re beautiful, darling. I love you. I hope you miss me. I wish I could kiss you one last time.

By the way, my real answer to that stupid question you asked me for Heather’s lunchtime poll is this: I’d spend it with you, doing whatever you’d like. We could spend our last day at Snappy, if that’s what you wanted.

Our love is God,

Jason Dean”

Next to his name was a poorly drawn heart. The tears began to fall. Veronica tossed the paper aside, not wanting to soak it. She stared at her hands. Tears dripped onto them. She let out quiet sobs. She had to hold back in case Bud was home. JD loved her, in his own fucked up way, to the end. And she still loved him. He was a deplorable piece of shit, but he was hers. And she was his. She’d never see him again. Veronica bent down and grabbed the paper, folding it gently. A few tears fell onto it and the ink smudged a little. She put it into the pocket of her blazer. She tried to stand up, but collapsed back onto the bed. Fuck it. She began sobbing louder than she ever had. She curled into a ball, grabbing his pillow. Holding it against her face, she smelled his shampoo. She’d never hold him again.

He was gone.

#farewell fellow heathers enthusiasts <3 #heathers #jason dean #heathers movie #jd heathers #jd #jd x veronica #veronica sawyer #jdronica #jdonica

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roxannarambles · 7 years ago

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Acquired Taste - Epilogue

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Title: Acquired Taste

Author: Roxanna Rambles

Summary: When Heath defected from Bern’s wyvern knights and joined Eliwood’s group, he was very keen on keeping to himself, and for the most part, that was easy to do. However, a particular ex-assassin insisted on hounding him. It was extremely annoying. Heath hated it. And there was no way that was going to change. Nope.

Prev. Chapters: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter11 Chapter 12

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Dawn was just beginning to break, low-floating clouds painted shades of pink and peach. Castle Pherae, perched atop a hill overlooking the town below, was only just starting to stir to life, a few early-risers going about their day. The grounds outside the castle still showed signs of the recent celebrations, confetti and debris sprinkled about, booths and seating areas still not cleared away entirely. Some of the castle staff were already getting to work with cleaning up the remaining mess or attending to other tasks.

A man with long, flowing lavender hair and a ragged cape was passing through the castle gardens, the morning dew of the rosebushes brushing against his pants as he moved past. He strode as if he had a destination intently in mind, but as he reached the center of the garden, he paused and surveyed the castle gardens contemplatively. His eye followed a few stray flower petals drifting down lazily into the koi pond, and the big, lumbering fish that nibbled curiously at them. He took a moment just to listen to the world around him. His heather eyes focused on nothing in particular as he drifted into reverie.

"UNCLE LEGAAAAULT!"

The man startled at the sudden shriek echoing across the garden, and turned to see the green-haired young woman in a purple cape bounding through the flowerbeds like her life depended upon it. She crashed full tilt into the man, throwing her arms about him in a hug and nearly knocking him backwards into the koi pond.

"Goodness gracious, Nino! We're both going to end up going for a swim if you aren't careful."

"DON'T GO!" she replied, squeezing him with her little arms. He smiled and patted her back.

"Nino, we talked about all of this yesterday. I wouldn't leave and never return again. We'll come back to visit, I promise."

She pulled out of her death-grip hug and looked up at him, sniffling.

"I-I know. But . . . it's going to be so lonely without you."

Legault put a hand on her shoulder and kindly guided her over to one of the garden benches near the pond. As he sat down beside her, he said,

"You won't be lonely. You're going to have all sorts of people around keeping you company. What about Jaffar? And Jan? And all the new friends you've made? Eliwood tells me that Erk has been helping you learn to read magic tomes. That sounds wonderful."

The young woman swung her feet restlessly and gazed down at the ground.

"It is. They've all been so nice to me. I'm . . . I'm so happy to have so many friends."

She pouted and looked up at him.

"But I still don't want you to go. There's not many people left from the Black Fang anymore. I still want my family around. A-after what happened with Mother and Father . . . a-and Linus, and Lloyd . . ."

Legault's expression darkened. He never knew what to say to this poor, sweet child when her bright eyes were clouded by pain that no one her age should have to endure. Any of his words seemed entirely meaningless in the face of that.

He slowly drew in a breath and spoke to her softly.

"I know."

After a moment, he added,

"But that's part of what we're doing. There could still be some Black Fang scattered out there. We can help them. It isn't . . ."

He sighed.

"Nothing we do can bring the others back. But maybe we can at least find the pieces that remain."

"Then bring me with you," Nino said in a rush,

"I can be useful, I promise! I can help you find them!"

"Nino," he answered kindly,

"You know I can't take you. It's going to be way too dangerous. That sort of life isn't for someone your age."

Nino seemed to bite back tears.

"You think I can't be useful?"

Legault shook his head,

"That isn't what I mean. You're a very talented young lady, I'm certain. But you deserve a life of stability. A chance to laugh, and play, and grow. Pherae will be perfect for you."

The young mage sighed, still frustrated, but she seemed to understand. After staring at the koi for a little while, she spoke up,

"All right, but you'd better write letters and stuff! And don't forget to visit! And also, be careful! You have to not die when you're out helping people, okay?"

Legault chuckled, leaning casually back against the bench.

"Don't worry. I have a very strong, very brave wyvern knight to watch my back."

She seemed to perk up at the mention.

"You mean Heath? He seems really nice! Whenever I talk to him, he doesn't say much, though."

"Mmm, well. He can be a quiet fellow. He just takes some time to open up to new people."

"He let me pet his wyvern, though!" Nino said, looking very enthusiastic. Legault smiled.

"That's a good place to start."

Nino went back to kicking her feet idly.

"You must be really good friends, 'cos I always see you both together. And you're going away together."

"Mmhmm. We are."

Legault gazed contemplatively out at the koi pond, his thoughts shifting over the recent, unexpected course his life had taken. After a while, he murmured,

"I'm not sure exactly what I did to deserve him, but I'm determined to try and keep doing it."

Nino blinked at him a moment, and then smiled goofily.

"You really like him, huh?"

Legault seemed to snap out of his daydreaming and straightened up a little in his seat.

"Er, well . . ."

"Does that mean I'm gonna get a new uncle?! Are you gonna get married?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Nino."

The girl gave him a scrutinizing look.

"Is that a yes or a maybe?"

Legault's gaze shifted nervously across the garden, and his eye fell upon a familiar figure moving across the castle grounds. He cleared his throat.

"Ah, speak of the devil. Maybe don't mention this last part of the conversation to Heath, Ni--"

"UNCLE HEATH!" Nino shouted gleefully, springing up from her seat and bounding over to the approaching knight. Legault sighed and followed after her, muttering,

"Ahh, hell."

The mage smacked into Heath's legs and hugged him, laughing. Heath gazed down at her, looking mildly puzzled.

"Um . . . hello, Nino."

His eyes lifted up to Legault as he approached and he added,

"I was wondering where you'd gotten to. We can delay if you need some extra time for farewells."

Upon reaching them, Legault leaned in a little and kissed Heath on the cheek near his ear, much to Nino's glee. He answered cheerfully,

"'Morning! That's okay. It's probably for the best not to make things too drawn out."

The knight glanced away, mumbling in an embarrassed tone,

"Legault. Not in front of the kid."

Legault chuckled.

"She's seen much worse."

Nino giggled and Heath shifted uncomfortably a moment before saying,

"Well, uh . . . I have Hyperion all packed up and ready to go, if you are."

Legault nodded.

"Ok, Nino. We're going to be on our way now."

"Wait!" she protested, looking dramatically between them,

"I want to see you take off! And I want to say goodbye to Hyperion too!"

The thief smiled down at her.

"All right, all right. Come along then."

The mossy-green wyvern was saddled up and waiting at the edge of the hill overlooking the town, knawing on a stick and looking bored. Nino jumped a little as they came upon her and she excitedly asked Heath permission to pet the beast; he nodded and she bounded over. She spent a little while cooing at the reptile and patting its snout, and Legault knew she mostly just wanted to delay the inevitable. Still, he felt she certainly deserved a few minutes of that peace.

When he felt they'd waited long enough, he gently coaxed the girl over, telling her it was time they get going. She flung herself at Legault again and hugged him fiercely, and then did the same for Heath.

Pulling out of the hug, she told him seriously,

"You be careful too! Help lots of people, but don't forget to take care of each other, too."

Heath smiled at her. He replied sincerely:

"I give you my word."

As Heath climbed into Hyperion's saddle, Legault commented,

"Ooh. You can count on that, Nino. I can't think of anything more sure in this world than Heath's word."

Nino started waving as Legault hopped up in the saddle behind Heath.

"Byyye!"

Legault returned the wave and warned her to step back a few paces so Hyperion wouldn't whack her with a tail. He felt hands take his own, and Heath wrapped Legault's arms around him.

"It's windy up there today, so hold on tight to me," he explained, settling Legault's hands on his waist. The knight looked at him over his shoulder, shooting him a dashing half-smile.

"I'd be pretty upset if I lost you up there."

Legault grinned, pulling himself close against Heath.

"Don't worry," he said to him,

"I'll be sure never to let go."

As the sun rose over Elibe, the wyvern took off into the sky.

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THE END

#fire emblem #fe7 #legault #heath #legault/heath #mystuff #fanfic

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trailcatjim-blog · 18 years ago

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Gunsight Pass Loop: Mount Clark, Olympic Mountains

September 2-5, 2006

Royal Peak (6960′+) Mount Clark (7528′)

For several years, I had been eyeballing a potential loop trip in the Buckhorn area of the eastern Olympic Mountains. My plan was to hike up the Dungeness River to Constance Pass, traverse along Del Monte Ridge to Gunsight Pass, wrap around Mt. Mystery to Deception Basin, go over Royal Pass to Royal Basin, and then hike down Royal Creek to close the loop. This basic loop looked to be about two-thirds on trail and about one-third off trail (with a lot of uncertainty revolving around that off-trail portion). In terms of bonus features, the loop would provide access to major-peak neighbors Mt. Deception and Mt. Mystery, as well as to some interesting secondary summits (including Little Mystery Peak, Mt. Fricaba, and Royal Peak) and the highly charismatic Mt. Clark.

Given an unusually favorable weather forecast for Labor Day Weekend, Eileen, Janet, Kevin, Peggy, Steve, and Suzanne enthusiastically joined up. They all relished the idea of a four-day Olympics trek into an unfamiliar area shrouded by a moderate amount of mystery (pun intended). It turned out to be a first-class adventure marked by summery weather, gorgeous terrain, two great summits, and wonderful camaraderie. When all was over, our group concluded that this loop is “totally repeatable”!

Day 1 — After a ferry ride to Kingston, a drive to Gardiner to pick up vermin canisters, and a stop in Sequim to pick up Kevin, we arrived at the Royal Basin Trailhead around 10:30am. Not surprisingly, the parking lot was a busy place on this sunny Saturday. We started hiking shortly after 11:00am, following the Royal Basin Trail for 1.0 mile, then branching onto the Dungeness River Trail for another 2.3 miles. At Camp Handy, we veered onto the Constance Pass Trail and followed it for 5.3 miles to Home Lake, passing popular Boulder Camp along the way. All of these trails were well-maintained, so the unseasonal heat was the only impediment to our travel. We arrived at Home Lake in late afternoon (5.9 hours from car), set up a campsite, then cooled off in the lake. Dinner was later served overlooking the lake, amidst a horde of annoying gnats.

Day 2 — We awoke with the gnats at first light and were back on the trail to Constance Pass by 8:00am. At the pass, this trail abruptly turned westward and followed an open ridge crest with nice views to the north and south. About a mile beyond the pass, we dropped packs and scurried up to a local high point for even better views. Interestingly, some very ambitious campers have carved out several sleeping platforms and constructed substantial windbreaks here. If not for the lack of a late-season water supply, this would make a dandy campsite.

Our group of seven continued westward along the trail as it switch-backed down to attractive Sunnybrook Meadows (2.4 hours from Home Lake). Water bottles were filled from a spring-fed creek here, in anticipation of several hot hours before finding another water supply. We bade the trail farewell (it continues descending to the Dosewallips River Trail) and started a rising traverse through scrub forest, light brush, talus, and steep scree. Kevin managed to collect three stings from angry hornets along the way, but we all made reasonable progress getting to the ridge crest just west of 6666-foot Twin Point.

At the crest, we were surprised to encounter two other climbers. They were completing this loop in the opposite direction, so we traded information about conditions ahead. Our hearts sank when they described horrible brush between Gunsight Pass and Deception Basin—and strongly advised us to bivouac at Gunsight Pass tonight rather than attempting to reach Deception Basin in one day We thanked them for their advice, but I knew that we wouldn’t be heeding it. After chatting, Steve joined the two men for a quick romp up Twin Point (one of the men was obsessed with the demonic elevation numerals) while the rest of us continued traversing northwestward along Del Monte Ridge toward Gunsight Pass. This ridge crest turned out to be a cross-country delight: it was probably the smoothest alpine crest any of us had ever seen!

Just before the crest became rocky and jagged (near Point 6514), we descended to the basin below Gunsight Pass. Our dreamy ridgetop stroll quickly turned into a hellish sidehill traverse on steep, hard scree slopes. While most of us tried to save elevation on the slippery scree, Peggy wisely dropped all the way down to the basin floor, allowing her to slingshot past us. Our group reconvened at 6400-foot Gunsight Pass around 2:15pm (6.4 hours from Home Lake). Given the early hour, the lack of water, and the scarcity of bivouac spots, there was no question of pushing on to Deception Basin, despite being warned about the terrain ahead. Shucks, how bad could it be?

Heading down snow and talus on the northwest side of the pass, we soon reached an elevation of 5400 feet, where thick brush below terminated against the sheer walls of Mt. Mystery above. This looked like as good a place as any to begin contouring, so we made a hard right. The next several hours was spent squirming through narrow strips of brush and scrub cedar, scrabbling up and down scree bands, and skirting beneath cliffs. All in all, it was pretty reasonable terrain for an alpine traverse, and a far cry from the horrible conditions described by the two climbers we’d met earlier. (They had probably traversed around Mt. Mystery at a lower elevation, whereas we stayed between 5200 and 5400 feet the whole way.)

We eventually wrapped around to intersect the north fork of Deception Creek, then ascended open talus along its left side. By 6:00pm, we had all popped over a rocky lip and strode into the flat, verdant expanse of lower Deception Basin. Another half hour of easy travel got us to a splendid campsite among the heather and gravel bars of upper Deception Basin at 5850 feet (10.9 hours from Home Lake). This beautiful meadow, nestled between the dramatic cliffs of Mt. Mystery and Mt. Deception, had been our “carrot” all day long, and it did not disappoint.

Day 3 — We were again up at first light and moving by 8:00am. After picking up the bootpath on the basin’s northern slope, we followed it to 6600-foot Royal Pass. This gave us our first view down into scenic Royal Basin. Because the terrain directly below the pass was steep and unappealing (as is often the case here in late season), we skirted below a rocky outcrop on the southern slope and swung up to a higher saddle just east of the pass. The terrain leading down to Royal Basin looked much easier from here, and this saddle provides a convenient jumpoff point for nearby Royal Peak. At the saddle, we encountered a solo hiker who had been camped at Lake Mystery and was heading out today. Here’s one from the “Small World Department”: after some quizzing, it was discovered that this fellow works in Portland with a close friend of Eileen’s!

Six of us took a sidetrip up to 6960-foot Royal Peak, which can be reached via a pleasant Class 2-3 ridge scramble. Although not unofficially named, this summit might very well be the finest viewpoint in this area. The panorama includes stunning close-ups of Mt. Mystery, Mt. Deception, and all of the Royal Needles. Upon ogling the handsome façade of Mt. Clark, there was now no question that it would be on our afternoon agenda.

We scrambled back to our saddle above Royal Pass, then followed a well-traveled bootpath down to upper Royal Basin (3.8 hours from Deception Basin). A large flat area near a turquoise-colored tarn provided a roomy campsite for our group. After lunch, Steve, Suzanne, Eileen, Kevin, and I organized summit packs and headed up to climb Mt. Clark. We ascended heather and talus to the rim of a glacial moraine surrounding Surprise Basin, then dropped down to the basin’s snowfields. The direct sun and afternoon heat made our climb to 6920-foot Surprise Col seem longer than it really was, but this put us in good position only 600 feet below the towering summit.

From the col, we went straight up a talus slope to some cliffs, then skirted rightward beneath these cliffs for about 100 yards on a southwest-facing Class 2 ledge. Where the cliffs became split by a Y-shaped gully system, we went straight up to a big boulder and then veered right to gain a notch in the southeast ridge (Class 2-3). The climb had been very straightforward to this point, but now things got interesting. According to the guidebook’s description for “Route 1,” we were supposed to descend the ridge’s other side to reach an east ledge. We could see the ledge about 50 feet down, but there was no obvious descent route. After 10 minutes of poking around and rejecting various alternatives, I finally spotted a way to downclimb to a diagonal crack system, which terminated at the east ledge. It was very exposed, but the rock was solid and well-featured. We all managed to scramble down unroped, and this diagonal crack proved to be a key to our entire climb.

We easily followed the east ledge (Class 1-2) northward for about 50 yards, to the bottom of a shallow gully that led upward to the summit rocks. Despite being somewhat loose and rubbly, this gully offered a reasonable scramble to the base of a steeply inclined dihedral ramp. From there, I roped up with Eileen and Steve to climb the ramp (Class 4) while Kevin and Suzanne scrambled a broken face (Class 3) on the left. We eventually regrouped at the base of the summit block. Actually, it wasn’t clear where the summit was until Kevin and Suzanne scrambled up a higher-looking horn to the northwest and then realized that the true summit was an intimidating block directly above us. The only feasible ascent route seemed to be a shallow slot cutting up through its north face. This slot turned out to be a fun Class 3-4 climb with excellent holds and good protection. We used a rope here for purposes of a belay or handline, and by 4:40pm (3.6 hours from upper Royal Basin) our “Mount Clark Five” climbing team was standing on the airy summit.

We spent 20 minutes enjoying close-up views of the amazing horns and spires of the Royal Needles, and far-away views of Puget Sound. The summit register comprised several scraps of paper in a large, stout tube. We signed in, then made one 60-foot rappel (with 55 feet of rope) off the summit block. Suzanne then teased out a Class 3 downclimb through the broken face and over a cliff to the right, entirely bypassing the loose gully. We easily climbed back up the steep diagonal crack and down to Surprise Col. An hour or so later found us splashing in our turquoise-colored tarn for a pre-dinner clean-up. The mosquitoes seemed to appreciate our good hygiene; they swarmed us relentlessly while we ate.

Day 4 — For the third morning in a row, we awoke to cloudless skies and mild temperatures. Our agenda consisted only of a 9-mile hike down Royal Creek on good trail. However, Eileen’s feet were now so badly blistered and battered that this trail hike wasn’t looking so easy for her. The situation was resolved by having her wear my Size 12 aqua-shoes—complete with extra socks stuffed in the toes—instead of her boots. Amazingly, she completed the 9 miles with happy feet and high spirits, and we all reached the trailhead before noon (3.9 hours from upper Royal Basin).

Loop Stats (car to car, excluding sidetrips): 27 miles, 8300 feet gained.

Loop Stats (car to car, including sidetrips): 30 miles, 10,700 feet gained.

Route Comments: In typical fashion, the Olympic climber’s guidebook provides only a sketchy description of the standard route (“Route 1”) up Mt. Clark. This is not necessarily a bad thing, though; we actually enjoyed filling in the blanks and teasing out the route. Overall, the standard route is complex, varied, interesting, challenging, exposed, and a real blast. Considering how it spirals a full 270 degrees around the peak, I think the name “Corkscrew Route” would be accurate and appropriate. I’ve attached a sketch of our route, for those who like to have more details.