Tag: eastern wa

  • New Year Thoughts (Doing Hard Things)

    New Year Thoughts (Doing Hard Things)

    It’s about 30 degrees outside and I’m currently in my sleeping bag in a cabin at Field Springs State Park in SE Washington. Earlier today we celebrated the end of 2025 with a hike, some snacks at altitude, and a summit activation (for me, at least).

    When the year officially rolls over (00:00UTC) all of the SOTA summit yearly points are reset, so a ton of operators go out and bang-bang a summit in both 2025 and 2026.

    Field Springs State Park isn’t too far from me, about a 90-minute drive south. In the winter it has groomed XC and snowshoe trails, complete with a warming chalet right up on the summit. I booked a cabin in the park hoping we could backcountry ski or snowshoe up to the hut but the unusually mild winter didn’t quite accommodate. A simple snow hike would have to do.

    Up at the hut, Corrie made a fire in the stove while I set up my antenna and snapped a few photos of the surrounding canyon. The views are pretty amazing, esp at sunset.

    I cracked open an Aperol spritz and after spotting myself on 7.063 was fortunate to have several chasers come back to be nice and S-L-O-W. This was only my second CW attempt on the air, but it went relatively well. Better than the first time. I banged out a few more QSOs on SBB and then waited for the hour to flip. A few more to re-activate the summit in the new year and that was that.

    Time for dinner. We packed small meal of nuts, olives, smoked salmon, and a baguette. Oh and that bottle of Cava that was chilling outside in the snow. We played a few rounds of card games and called it an early night. Now I’m just scribbling out some reflections and hopes for the year ahead.


    Along with the year tick-over, I’ve also recently turned 46. Holy shit. Time is a fast-mover and I can’t help but to feel like I need to keep making the most of it.

    In past years I’ve set a few large goals that required months and months of preparation to achieve. Ironman races, multi-hundred mile bike rides, complete shifts in careers… that kind of goal-setting is not only exhausting but is also risky. If you miss, it can feel like a total failure.

    I’m going to lean more towards a consistent series of “hard things” sprinkled somewhat evenly throughout the calendar. Surely, not all will end in success, but they should all make be a slightly better person by the time I hit 47.

    Goals I’ve Concocted for 2026:

    • read 26 books
    • amateur extra radio license
    • Log 260 CW QSOs
    • W7W/WE summits: reach 26 total activations (currently at 12)
    • W7I summits: reach 26 total activations (currently at 19)
    • run a pb at the seattle marathon (26.2 miles)
    • shoot *more* film (buy *less* cameras)
    • personal summit list (bag more of ’em)

    Some of these are quantifiable, others are feelings, and a couple are intentionally vague. I don’t want to be more busy, rather I want to be more intentional with my time. Let’s see how that goes—I might just spend my weekends drinking beers and eating sandwiches.

    I originally took on K2VFZ shortly after earning my Technician license. The 7 call area covers much of the Mountain West, which fits my time in Arizona and Washington. My grandfather (K2VFZ sk) also held a 7-area callsign after moving from New Jersey to Arizona in the early 1980s, so K7VFZ ends up as a natural mash-up of the callsigns we’ve both held.

  • Blue Mountains: Misery Peak W7W/WE-003 & Garfield County H.P. W7W/WE-002

    Blue Mountains: Misery Peak W7W/WE-003 & Garfield County H.P. W7W/WE-002

    This is a bit of a scouting mission as I’d only been to the Blue Mountains a couple of times and those were the pre-summit hunting days. Two relatively easy looking targets: Mount Misery W7W/WE-003 and the Garfield County High Point W7W/WE-002.

    Happy to report that the Umatilla National Forest roads were surprisingly wide a smooth, making the long drive to get into the business bearable. As you get closer to the summits, the road does begin to narrow and roughen, but nothing notable.

    Garfield County High Point was first up and was a relatively easy trail hike from the parking area below. The activation zone was wide open with some nice views, especially to the south-east.

    After that clean activation, I made my back to the car and then relocated a bit closer to Mount Misery. There was a nice pullout along the otherwise narrow section of road just below the summit. The hike up was steep with no trail, but straightforward.

    I spent a fair amount of time looking south towards unactivated Prominencians Peak W7W/WE-013 and Halsey Butte W7W/WE-010. Both have been on my radar for quite some time and although I didn’t make it out this year, I’m hoping for a 2026 attempt. The terrain looked to be super rough and overgrown—it’ll probably be a pretty difficult and long day for each.

  • Peakbagging the Kettle Falls Range

    Peakbagging the Kettle Falls Range

    Northwest of Spokane lies a pocket of summits I’ve been eyeballing for months—about a dozen SOTA-qualifying peaks in the 6000–7000 ft range. With some free time and an itch to chase points and elevation, I mapped out a three-day backpacking trip in early June aiming to activate at least four eight-pointers.

    With almost zero familiarity with the area (always a great start), I hit the trail Thursday afternoon. I started from Sherman Pass Trailhead, heading south along the Kettle Crest, skirting just west of Sherman and Snow Peaks. Somewhere in a saddle—conveniently next to a rentable Forest Service cabin—I found a near-perfect campsite and set up shop. It was only about 5 p.m., still bright out, but the bugs had unionized and were not accepting negotiations. I retreated to my tent early to snack on a cold burrito.

    Inside, I studied the Fred Cady Elecraft KX2 book on my Kindle. This was the radio’s first go—I’d had the KX2 for a grand total of two days, with only one QSO under my belt (to prove it wasn’t a brick). Would I manage a successful mountaintop activation with just 20 minutes of experience? Good question. I was wondering the same thing.

    Bald Mountain W7W/FR-003

    The plan was to start from the southernmost peak—Edds—and work my way north, leaving Bald for latter in the day. But standing there sizing up the peaks, Bald looked like it meant business. I decided it was smarter to hit it first while I still had fresh legs and optimism.

    I ignored existing online beta that suggested a south/southwest approach and instead eyed a doable-looking line from the north/northeast. My logic: less snow exposure on the north side. My reality: boulder fields of doom. Not a total disaster, but next time, I’ll take the advice left on Peakbagger and come in from the southwest.

    Bald Mountain (left) and Edds Mountain (right)
    Mast in the air with coax coming down off the near rock.
    Cairn at the very top of Bald Mountain.

    Edds Mountain W7W/FR-011

    After Bald, I hit Edds. It was heavily treed, buzzing with biting insects, and honestly, kind of a slog. A summit, sure, but not one I’d be super eager to do again (but points are points, right?).

    The hike back to camp via Bald was full of blowdowns—not the fun “challenge your agility” kind, but the soul-sapping “why do I hike again?” kind. I got back to camp, fired up some spicy Jetboil ramen, and collapsed. Big day. Bigger sleep.

    Looking at Edds from Bald Mountain summit.
    Dinner and reflection on the day.

    Snow Peak W7W/FR-002

    I rolled out of the tent early the next morning, fueled by two Pop-Tarts and some instant coffee that was probably more morale than caffeine. Snow Peak was a short jam from camp and was my favorite of the trip. Incredibly steep but not technical, with a gorgeous and antenna-friendly summit with solid 360-degree views. 10/10, would scramble again.

    Snow Peak from the north ridge.

    Sherman Peak W7W/FR-005

    In theory, you can traverse from Snow to Sherman along the ridge. In practice, I encountered enough ankle-breaking boulders and sketchy snow cornices to reconsider all my life choices. Eventually, I bailed east off the ridge and reconnected with the trail (emphasis on “eventually”).

    Sherman’s summit zone is rocky and sparse on shade—great for a view, not so great for loitering. I activated, grabbed a few photos, and made my way back to the trailhead. Visions of a burger and beer in Republic, WA fueled the final miles.

    Looking towards Sherman from Snow Peak summit.
    Activating Sherman looking back upon Snow Peak.

    Paradise Peak W7W/FR-023

    To put a bow on the weekend, I decided to squeeze in a first activation of Paradise Peak. This was both a success and a declaration: never again.

    The drive up was an long choose-your-own-adventure through logging roads. The hike was heinously steep and overgrown, with barely enough room to set up and operate. One of those summits where the only reward is points, and getting down safely. But hey, it’s in the logbook.

    Paradise Peak from the car. Doesn’t look that bad from here.

    Despite the mosquitoes, blowdowns, and the self-inflicted off-route scrambling, this trip was an absolute win. I’ll likely repeat a version of it next year, and if Future Me is reading this, here are a few things to consider:

    • Rent the damn cabin. Tent life is fine, but the cabin would naturally be better.
    • Bring bug spray and pants. Seriously.
    • Bald Mountain: SW approach only. Or bring a helmet because that northern approach was sketch.
    • Maybe try for a couple of those summits north of the highway. They’re eight-pointers as well.
  • Bracken Point W7W/WE-056

    Bracken Point W7W/WE-056

    Miles: 5.76
    Gain: 1463ft
    QSOs: 4
    Points: 4

    Almost immediately after leaving the parking lot, the ascent up the side of the ridge begins. It’s steep—gaining over 600 feet in the first quarter mile or so. The traverse across the ridgeline continues for another two miles, with plenty of additional climbing, until we topped out at the high point which felt like a flat, grassy mesa.

    Start of the climb, looking back towards the parking lot.

    During the approach we saw a herd of bighorn below us to the south and watched a fast-moving group of mule deer book it across the draw.

    There were no trees in the activation zone, which made for a great 360 view of the surrounding hills and distant snow-capped mountains. As soon as the antenna was up, rain began to sprinkle on us. After four QSOs, which took about 20 minutes, the rain was falling heavier and it felt like a smart idea to get off the ridge.

    A nice place to stop, except for the rain.

    Route-finding back down towards the trail was steep, rocky, and a little sketch. We randomly found a geocache at the base of a rock spire so I stopped to write in the logbook and Corrie tossed in a friendship bracelet.

    The descent doesn’t look all that inviting.
    Wildflowers were out. Spring is here!

    Returning on the trail felt wildly fast and easy after spending 3 hours navigating the cross-country route above.

    This could be done in reverse, but we both agreed that the idea of descending the eastern section that we initially went up seemed scary; we’d probably do it counter-clockwise again.

    Last shot of the roll—the obligatory “selfie”.
  • Smoot Hill W7W/WE-033

    Smoot Hill W7W/WE-033

    It’s been a mild January thus far and this weekend, although windy, was a prime 42F. Running a bit short on time, a close-to-home hill would be on the menu and Smoot was today’s flavor.

    To be honest, I’m not exactly sure about the accessibility of this summit. Some fencing along the nearby gravel road has Washington State University signs declaring no trespassing—but I’ve spoken with two individuals who have assured me that as long as you are traveling by foot and being respectful there is no issue.

    Parking is obvious at the Rose Creek Nature Preserve. Considering the above, I booked it rather quickly up the hill until slipping into the trees where I’m a little less exposed to the road. The summit approach is rather unremarkable. There’s a lightly groomed path, probably for researchers to access the wildlife preserve, which meanders the ridgeline towards the summit. It’s straightforward until eventually reaching an intersection. Now heading south you’re less than a quarter mile and under 200ft elevation from the AZ. Plenty of trees there for a bit of a wind break (or shade).

    This was the first activation using my new mast, the “POTA Explorer” which is a rather stout 33ft carbon fiber pole. Because it’s so much taller, with thicker diameter segments, than my trusty SOTA Beam 6 (19.6ft), the Explorer’s penchant to tip is more significant and I had to prop it up in a tree to keep it from falling over. I’ll be adding some prusik cord for next time if I need to guy it.

    The activation was relatively smooth with a dozen contacts including a summit-to-summit.

    Also this year, I am planning on photographing all of my activations on film. This was a bit of a test run as I haven’t shot much film in the past 20 years and I haven’t developed film myself since college circa 2001-2003. I’d say this turned out to be a success and am looking forward to the added pain in the ass this will all surely be.

    Nikon F2 | Ilford FP4+

    Thanks to all of my chasers, this was a good solid run as I shook the dust off my SOTA skills. The S2S with K7FOP and K7ATN was especially a treat, as always.

  • Krell Hill W7W/WE-021

    Krell Hill W7W/WE-021

    Popping up to Spokane to drop my mom off at the airport after her visit; might as well get in a SOTA. Krell Hill W7W/WE-021 was in a familiar area, I’ve hiked the Rocks of Sharon before and this AZ was just the next hill over from that. A quick 1.7-ish miles up (it was steep) led me to an area below a bunch of quite large teevee antenna towers.

    The day was WINDY and warm, probably upper 60s. I found a good spot to park it next to some very large rock structures that I hoped might act as a bit of a windbreak. Mast deployed, wire up, and away we go.

    The 20m band was rocking. I bopped around a bit to try find some POTA activators looking for contacts and nabbed three of ‘em, getting relatively decent signal reports in return: 42, 59, 59. I wasn’t sure how much the giant antenna array directly above me was going to affect my waves, man.

    The 40m band, however, was dead quiet. Odd. I went ahead and spotted myself and quickly was hit up by my #1 chaser, WW7D who gave me a not-so-great 3-1 report; I guess there was a reason this band wasn’t seeing any action. I then heard N7KOM call loud and clear, whom I acknowledged but never heard a reply. Again, I’m blaming the band. A couple of more hunters connected with me and that was about it.

    I got all I needed, wasn’t hearing anyone else, and needed to hit the Trader Joe’s before making the 90-minute drive back home. Packed it all up and called it a day.

    This was a super easy summit to access, both trailhead and hike-wise. I’ll remember it early next year as I think it would make for a good winter SOTA.