Loose rocks, high wind, and limited visibility, it felt like I was getting a taste of an intense alpine life without the necessary climbing gear or glaciers.
The trail for Black Tusk veers off rather steeply, twisting for a direct route to the rocky outcrop that is visible from Taylor Meadows. There are a few streams here and there that allow for water replenishment on the way to the base of the sea of loose rocks. The creek trickles onto the trail, so it is a bit muddy (warning to those who adventure in runners), but it only lasts for a short stretch.
Did not encounter any bears as we transitioned away from the tree line.
I'm not entirely sure where the official viewpoint for Black Tusk is (the end of the recommended trail). But there is a wooden post with a yellow sign warning hikers it is not recommended to climb the Black Tusk. That being said we cautiously made our way upwards heading toward the ridge. For the first little while there is a little footpath amongst the rubble, but this footpath soon evolves into a loose rock trail. Hikers descending churn up lighter, loose rocks. It was easier to trek along the darker volcanic rocks, and keep an eye on the ridge drop to the right past the first ridge. The first ridge gives a pretty nice view of the tusk itself and the park below. Minding the drop, moving higher, there is a small secondary ridge that reveals rocky outcrops surrounding the tusk.
From this point I would say things start to look uncertain. About 10 meters away is the gorgeous black rock. Literally feels almost within reach. However, one side has a nasty drop and the other all the loose sediment that looks like it could potentially drag a hiker a little ways down the mountain. This is the point I stopped at. Pretty content with where I traveled to (and modified by the height). My companion trekked off, pulling along the rocks effortlessly to the tactical scramble on the other end.
No one we talked to made it up to the top of the tusk. Either the visibility was poor, they did not have the gear, or the winds warded them away. Even an individual with a climbing helmet turned away five minutes from the summit.
At the junction, where we took a lunch break away from the whistling winds, I found my sandwhich fell victim to a grey Jay. The little birds are so accustomed to people it had no issue with savagely ambushing the bread and escaping. Shortly afterwards more of its companions flocked to our lunch spot-- and our hats.
Black Tusk will be a mountain I will forever gaze in awe at for its uniqueness across the landscape and challenge to it's summit. Of course the true summit nearby has my respect due to the fact it requires potentially true mountaineering skills to tackle.