OK, let’s get this straight right off the top: I was not lost. I was just momentarily … misplaced. I was in the right place, the trail was in the wrong place.

The plan was to hike up the Gold Creek Trail, billed as a 2.2 mile hike with a 1,000-foot elevation gain and panoramic views from the top of Green Mountain. Sounded good. The family-friendly guidebook I was relying on, which shall remain nameless, gave good driving directions, but ended at the trailhead parking lot, making me think the trail must be pretty straightforward. It might have helped if the advertised map at the trailhead hadn’t been ripped off the information board, leaving a nice wooden frame with no map inside.

No matter, I could see the start of the trail marked out at the edge of a Department of Natural Resources clearcut. I put on sunscreen and shouldered my day pack containing water, lunch, camera and jacket. And a two-pound hard cover book I forgot was there.

It was one of those hot days we’ve been enjoying in the last few weeks, but not in the upper 80s. That would be crazy.

The trail meandered through the clearcut, now grown in with six-foot-tall planted fir trees and 10-foot-tall native alders. A crew of DNR workers in full battle gear — hard hats, gloves, long-sleeved jackets and padded pants — slowly worked to cut the alders by hand. I didn’t stop to share with them that in the ‘70s heyday of logging, some state and federal clearcuts used to be cleared of logging debris by dropping Vietnam War-surplus napalm on them from low-flying airplanes. Really. Then they figured out that the intense heat caused by the explosive cocktail of nitroglycerin and jellified petroleum sterilized the soil to such a depth that it was like trying to plant trees on the surface of the moon. Woops.

Anyway, after about a quarter mile, I left the clearcut behind and entered the cool woods, where the wide trail ran alongside the softly babbling Gold Creek. A short but sturdily constructed steel bridge spanned the creek, and the trail turned into an old logging road. Just across the bridge there were two signs alongside the trail which seemed to indicate that the Gold Creek Trail was either back the way I came, or straight up, like a sign pointing to heaven. A ragged way trail veered off the logging road at that point, but I thought that couldn’t be the well-traveled trail and it sure didn’t look like the route to heaven.

I elected to continue following the logging road. The scenery wasn’t too exciting, but there was a large beaver pond that would be interesting to point out to young hikers. The broad road would be a nice walk with a companion, or for mountain biking or horse riding.

After about an hour of absolutely no elevation gain, I began to have second thoughts about my route choice. Where was this leading? I’m fine with asking for directions if need be, but there was no one to ask. I decided to turn around and have another look at those trail signs, when I ran into three people on horseback. They assured me that just up ahead there was a spur road on the left that did indeed lead to the promised panoramic views. In fact that’s where they were headed. Good enough.

They let me get a head start, and I struck out. After passing around an imposing blue metal gate blocking the road, but no “No Trespassing” signs, the road started to climb steeply. Now we’re getting somewhere.

Around one corner the bays surrounding the Kitsap Peninsula came into view. Mt. Deception in the Olympics loomed just over the ridge. Another curve brought up the Seattle skyline, a smudge of burnt matchsticks on the smoggy skyline. The Cascades were obscured by the shroud of smog, but Rainier poked her head majestically above her mantle of clouds to the south.

A few more curves and I came to the end of the road at what used to be a logging landing. After a quick lunch, and a few pages from the hefty tome I had lugged along, I headed back down.

When I reached the Gold Creek Trail signs I went far enough up the “way trail” to realize it was indeed the real trail, marked with a gold horseshoe on a white diamond plaque. Oh well, another time.

Getting there

To reach the Gold Creek Trailhead, from SR 305 take the Newberry Hill exit on the south end of Silverdale. At the stop sign head up the hill (west) on Newberry Hill road. Follow this until it ends at Seabeck Highway. Turn left onto Seabeck Highway, then right at Holly road, which is marked by a flashing caution light. Continue past the Wildcat Lake park, 3.6 miles to Tahuyeh Lake road, on the left. Stay on Tahuyeh Lake road as it turns into Gold Creek road after 1.4 miles. The trailhead is approximately 1.5 miles ahead on the left, although it is not marked by an indicator sign. Look for it just after crossing over Gold Creek. There is a large sign about a half block off the road leading to the large parking lot.

From the trailhead follow the trail through the clearcut on the north end of the parking lot and into the woods. Approximately 100 feet beyond a steel bridge spanning Gold Creek, look for further trail signs on the left side of the trail. From there you’re on your own.

Bring a map of the area and be sure to tell someone at home where you’re going.