Without planning it, my short backpack trip along the Hoh River within Olympic National Park coincided with the 50th anniversary of the Wilderness Act.

In 1964, the act gave “wilderness” a legal presence and has since been the basis for the protection of millions of acres.

However, carving out the time for even two measly nights away from life’s responsibilities to enjoy the protected lands proves to be more challenging the older I get. Possibly, it is because I am taking on more responsibility or maybe it’s simply because with time you tend to fall into a routine and breaking away from that can be difficult.

Either way my best friend, Rebecca (Becca) Verda, and I have been able to maintain the tradition of embarking on at least one annual backpack trip, if not two in a good year.

Becca and I lived together for our college years, but time has trudged onward and with it our lives. Becca now lives in Seattle and I am here in Sequim. Although geographically that’s not saying much, between the drive and ferry, the distance can be inconvenient at times.

The perfect and really last window of opportunity to pencil in a fair weather hike came quickly this year. Becca and I had big plans to explore uncharted territory, for us anyway, and visit an area we’ve never been too, but again time got the better of us and before we knew it Labor Day weekend was before us.

To streamline things Becca came to Sequim and we thought it best to venture into the Olympic Mountains for this trip instead of our original plan to explore unfamiliar and far off lands. Having grown up in the area, the Olympics always have been nearby … tirelessly waiting for further exploration, which I’ve done, but never before had I explored the Hoh River valley or laid eyes on the notorious Blue Glacier.

We mapped out our hike. If you ask Becca, she may say I have the tendency to be overly optimistic about what we can comfortably physically accomplish. With that said, we agreed on a 36-mile hike. With two nights and really only two full days to hike 18 plus miles in and then back out we had our work cut out for us, but at the time it felt very doable.

The first 10 miles went quickly. By the time we reached our camp destination beside the Hoh River, which had a milky blue tinge giving hints as to the Blue Glacier miles beyond, we were quite aware of our feet and I was reminded of muscles I had forgotten about.

We pitched our tent under the outstretched arms of giant maple tree. It seemed as though not an inch of the tree’s exterior was left uncovered from various mosses and ferns given its long existence in the rain forest. That evening we enjoyed the company of some deer and the calming sounds of the river rushing by us. Once our food was securely strung from a nearby bear wire, we made a small fire to play card games by, but it didn’t take long before the blanket of night covered our tent and thoughts of the miles of trail waiting for us quickly put us to sleep.

The next day we packed our camp, rationed out our morning granola bar and hit the trail. Muscles refreshed, we had 6 miles ahead of us, but the last few miles we would begin to gain the 5,000 feet of elevation that eventually led us to the glacial moraine of Blue Glacier. We reached Elk Lake and the ability to relieve my back of my pack felt indescribably good. Again, we set up camp under the protection of some trees and soaked in some sun before heading up the steepest scramble of our hike – the trail to Blue Glacier.

Once the tree line became a thing of the past and we found ourselves exposed on the side of the slope among only rocks and a couple of mountain goats, we knew we were getting close. Our muscles still aching slightly from our morning hike to our base camp at Elk Lake, the push for the glacier was strenuous.

Despite arriving winded and sweaty, we made it! We took a seat on the rocky edge once carved by ice, but which had since been exposed because of glacial retreat, and sat in silence absorbing the glacier’s presence.

It was as if Blue Glacier were alive. Its electric, yet almost translucent deep blue crevasses creaked and rumbled as we sat above it and stared in awe. The sounds of water escaping the glacier’s seemingly timeless grasp was loud and bold – it seemed to encapsulate “freedom” if freedom made a noise.

Tired, but feeling accomplished and more than satisfied with ourselves, Becca and I said goodbye to Blue Glacier with one final look at the ancient formation of ice.

Reaching camp that evening felt wonderful to say the least. With no trouble at all Becca and I polished off a dehydrated meal intended to serve four and treated ourselves to a dehydrated desert. Full and quite stiff, I made my way into our tent and was asleep before darkness had a chance to settle.

Early morning met us with the sounds of a chipmunk outside our tent. With 15 miles between us and the car, we crawled from our sleeping bags and were on the trail in no time.

The hike out was the most mentally straining. Our bodies were tired and the factual distance of a mile seemed debatable.

The first glimpse of the parking lot was a welcomed sight. We staggered to the car and enthusiastically chucked our packs in the back and fell into our respective seats. Once on the road and almost effortlessly propelling along at far more than 2.5 miles per hour (our average hiking pace), not much could have made for a better weekend.

Reach Alana Linderoth at alinderoth@sequimgazette.com.