There are some states where if you don’t find a way to get outside and step on a trail, you’re doing yourself a disservice.
Washington is one of those states. Three mountain ranges cross the state from north to south: The Olympics, the Cascades, and to the east, the Selkirk Range.
The Selkirks won’t garner the love that the Olympics or the Cascades get, but if you’re in Spokane or the Idaho towns to the east, there’s plenty to do and see.
One of the simple pleasures for the outdoorist is a long mountain hike. And just east of Spokane Valley, you have one in Mica Peak.
The mountain is easy to distinguish: There’s a white, globe-like structure perched at its summit, like some giant golf ball awaiting God’s tee time (in reality, it’s an FAA radar station).
My hiking buddy on this one, Doug, lives in Spokane Valley and he sees the mountain every time he walks out his front door. He’s been eyeballing this ever since moving here with his family about a year ago. I needed a good training hike, so up we went.
There are a lot of trails on this mountain, and the paths themselves are a mix of jeep roads, singletrack and, close to the top, a wide gravel road. There are a lot of side trails, too, so it’s a good idea to study a map before you go. Otherwise, it’s easy to get off course (we did that a few times and turned an 11-mile out-and-back summit hike into some just over 13 miles. Oops.).
The basic route we followed was looking for markers that pointed toward “Moonshine.”
That path has you choose between what look like a fork in the road (really, two jeep trails) early on. The more established one to the left is the way to go. The route will mostly stay on a path like this following the ridgeline for a few miles. Some might balk at the idea of hiking on a jeep trail, but the scenery is just as good from it as it would be any singletrack. Sweeping overlooks into the valley to the west as well as nearby wooded ridges abound as you ascend, though we had a hard time seeing many of them because of the weather: Clouds, light rain and even some fog obscured most of the views on the way up, though there is an appeal to the look of a misty forest, where stands of trees disappear into the gloom of the fog. A whole different feel for sure.
Not far from the top, the route changes its spots: Double-track jeep trails give way to an abrupt right turn up a steep singletrack path that ascends sharply for about a quarter mile. Most of the route to this point is a gentle but steady incline, but now at about 5,000 feet, you give your legs and lungs more of a test. Once we topped out there, we were greeted by two things: a sweeping view of the valley below, and that gravel road I mentioned that continued up. The slope eased some here, and before we knew it, the FAA’s giant golf ball appeared through the mists. We’d topped out.
As I said before, the weather gave us light rain and drizzle most of the day. But by the time we were at the summit (and lunch!) it was 38 degrees and snowing. Yup, late May in the mountains – even mountains that don’t quite reach a mile above sea level – can bring snow. It was a tasty but chilly lunch, and we didn’t waste too much time getting a move-on.
On the way down, the clouds lifted a little, and we were treated to better views. There was plenty of evidence of wildlife (Spokane County maintains much of the mountain for recreation and as a nature preserve), be it droppings from deer or, we suspected, large predators. One paw print looked like it very well could have been from a decent sized cat. Mountain lions, black bear, moose, elk, deer and more call these woods home.
In the middle of all this was conversation. You know you’ve found a good hiking buddy when you don’t run out of words (though I’ll admit to clamming up on higher altitude peaks). Discussions included cars, family, sports, jobs and more. It definitely makes those miles tick by faster.
By the time we got back to the trailhead, the sun was poking through the clouds, which were busy trying to clear out. Mica Peak’s summit was still hidden in clouds, but somewhere up there was that giant golf ball in the sky, something Doug will be able to show his kids and say, “I’ve been up there.”
About the route: If you do it right (and not get off track like we did), the round-trip hike is about 11 miles with somewhere near 2,500 feet of vertical gain. All Class 1 hiking, with a short stretch of steeper Class 2 close to the top just before you reach the gravel road. The true summit is a fenced-off FAA site that does not have public access.