Spring Flowers

Before the spring equinox, as the earth starts to warm with lengthening days, they appear quietly gently nuzzling their way from the protection of leaves and soil. We look for them as spring approaches – to let ourselves know that the dark dismal days of winter are receding behind us and adventure and hope are before us.

Small spring flowers, in the wilds and our gardens. We begin to see Indian Plum, tassels of white shivering in the breeze like pom-poms of an excited cheerleader, willing her team to win. Indian Plum lets us know that our hopes will be answered, quickly as other flowers begin to bloom.

In the garden, Snow Drops and Crocus emerge to add brightness to the day. Short-lived Camellias splash color across waxy green shrubs. Not long afterwards spring begins to fill your senses.

The air smells cleaner after a spring shower. Bird song fills the air. The sun begins to warm your face. There’s a lightness in your being, a bounce in your step, a smile on your lips.

Revel in spring. 

The Scent of Green

Green has a scent.

Green smells like spring in a Pacific Northwest forest.

As the ferns unfurl their fronds reaching out for new life, you can smell it.

As the Salmonberry and Thimbleberry leaf out and blossom preparing for their juicy summer fruits, you can smell it.

As the undergrowth replenishes through warmer air and moist days putting forth sparkling gems of wildflowers, you can smell.

As the moss drips with rain water from the sturdy boughs of the trees surrounding you, you can smell it.

As the Big Leaf Maples and the tentacles Vine Maples spread their palmated leaves to collect the sun and rejuvenate their roots, you can smell it.

As streams rattle and crash over rocks and through banks of glorious and vibrant greens, you can smell it.

As you walk through a Pacific Northwest forest in the spring, you can smell it.

You can smell green.

Have you smelled it?

A perfect naturalist spot

Nolte State Park, 5/9/09, 1 .5 miles

As Michael & I walked the trail around Deep Lake with the girls, Michael stated that he felt this was a forest where he should be able to identify all of the plants. And really he was right. The forest surrounding Deep Lake at Nolte State Park is the stereotypical coastal forest of Washington - a perfect place for a new naturalist to hone their skills or just bone-up on what they already knew.

Along he way we spotted the three coastal forest conifers, plus vine maple, salal, oregon grape and a couple of ferns. A few wildflowers were blooming and the birds twittered. So much fun we were having walking in this little naturalist treasure that the daylight began to slip away more quickly than we were walking. We arrived back at the car at dusk and the awaiting rangers ready to give us a parking ticket for being in the park too late. We talked or way out of the ticket much to our relief since it would have been $137.00 naturalist trip. Yikes! and I started this partly because it was a cheaper hobby to accompany my photography.

Spring Road Trip 2009

3/28/09-4/4/09

Another Spring and another road trip - and boy was I ready for this one. Early in the winter I learned that Frans Lanting would be speaking in Spokane for the PSA conference held there at the end of March. This time I would not miss the conference for Frans is one of my photography idols. I decided to plan this trip around going to Spokane and kicking off a fabulous photo vacation for myself.

This year I had the strongest desire to head back down to Utah planning 4 days near the Moab area: Arches National Park, Canyonlands National Park, Goblin Valley, and Dead Horse Point. There would also be a slight layover at Bruneau Sand Dunes as I had been wanting to visit there again.

Olympia would be my traveling companion. I enjoy this time by myself but I really do like having someone with me. Olympia's conversations aren't the best but she good company never the less.

So continue reading the stories are adventuresome and I hope you enjoy reading about them as much as I had experiencing them.

A Visit to an Old Friend

Wallace Falls, 6.5 miles, 5/18/08

Back when I was first discovering the wonders of hiking, my sister & I found Wallace Falls. We would hike to the top of the falls and sit on the edge of the river watching the river rush past, racing to its tumult over the cliff. When my nephew was only a few months old, we introduced him to Wallace Falls on a very cold and chilly day - he fell asleep in the pack carrier my sister had perched on her back. This was our place to visit together in the spring when the green moss glowed against the wet black rock of the canyon walls.

I had revisited the falls only once again after I had returned home from school. Michael and I hiked through the golden maple leaves of autumn not long after we met. A quiet hike to a more sedate run-off for a blossoming romance.

This time, was with new friends met through the Mountaineers' Conditioning Hike Series. As it is early in the spring, the greens vibrated through the forest and new growth exploded along the river bed. We all gazed in wonder at the beauty around us in the company of the river's orchestra. The spring run-off exploded through the canyon, sending up mist from every fall, coating the walls in a glittering wet. And as in my memories with my sister, the mossed gleamed against the black rock.

Here I was, in the presence of an old friend, remembering the fun of sisterhood, shared with new friends. What day could be better?

A conversation with a Fawn Lily

Duckabush River Trail, 5/3/08, 10 miles, 1200 Elevation

I slowly stepped along the trail creeping up Big Hump, the large hill between me and our groups' turn around point. The group had long ago left me behind, faster uphills than I could ever imagine myself going. Our co-leader lagged behind me so as not to give me any undue pressure to push myself harder than I'd be capable to sustain. It was a quiet respite after the chattering of the group - all I heard over my breathe were the sounds of water tumultuously rushing downhill and the far-off call of a male grouse.

As I climbed higher, the low-lying clouds began to form a dense thicket of fog around the trees, filtering the light to a low glow reminiscent of an ordinary December Day. But this was May, on the Olympic Peninsula. I have often started out on a trail in full glory of the sun only to be drenched to the bone by the time I turned around and dry again when I reached the car. There is no telling what a spring hike on the peninsula will give you. And visual treats were what I could expect today.

It was about this time, as I was thinking of the clouds and the changes in the forest as I climbed higher into the clouds, that I spotted the first of them. "Oh my," I thought. "Is that what I think it is?" My curiosity propelled my feet further up the hill at a slightly faster pace. As I turned the next switchback, there my suspicions were laid to rest - handfuls of Fawn Lilies lined the hillside above the trail, their white heads bowed low with moisture over their mottled leaves. "Hello my pretties," I breathed as I slowly walked past eager to walk amongst these little gems but not wanting to pass too quickly. They seemed to sparkle in the dark grey of the day. Other flowers awaited me further up the hill, and I was excited to see each one in turn - Chocolate Lily, Flowering Red Current, Small Blue-Eyed Mary, Penstemon, mini-monkeyflowers. Little jewels against the murky day.

We were well within the cloud as wee reached the peak and traveled along a moss-lined trail through the woods. My pace quickened here to stay with the rest of the group who had waited for us at the top of the hill. And in the murky cloud where little light made its way through the thick cloud and the forest canopy, our way was lit by the vibrant green of moss along the trail, which seemed to glow from a source all its own. The chattering again picked up, but I found refuge in the quiet of the climb accompanied by the sounds of the river and a happy grouse and my own short conversation with the Fawn Lily.

Coastal Forest

Kalaloch Nature Trail, 4/26/08, 2 miles

A good way to get to know a new area, or even an familiar one, is to take a hike n the local nature trail. Of all the years I'd camped at Kalaloch, I had never explored this little loop in the woods.

The coastal forest is in all its glory along the trail, with large trees blocking most of the sky so that the sunlight is filtered through green boughs making the forest floor a kaleidoscope of greens. Moss clings to anything it can. Shrubs fight for space, sunlight and nutrients in the soil - enough of a fight that they will grow anywhere they can get a toe-hold including the trunks of dead and even living trees. Flowers and mushroom spot the ground with often vibrant colors and sometimes muted tones.

A coastal forest is a place of life and in the early spring it is a place to see life blossom exponentially in the moist and nutrient rich world.

A Day of Waterfalls

Columbia River Gorge, 3/24/08

I took a drive back through time to visit a few of the waterfalls in the Columbia River Gorge. The Historic Columbia Highway runs through the gorge and back through time - to an era when Sunday drives meant something more than getting somewhere fast. It curves through the gorge along stone rails and bridges, parks meant for picnics, hills with vistas, and magnificent waterfalls. I set out on a leisurely pace like those who traveled this road years before.

My first stop was Sheppards Dell Falls - a falls that can be easily overlooked as it is tucked away in a little grotto, not easily seen by those accustomed to a faster paced life. It's a two-tiered waterfall dropping approximately 120 feet to the canyon below. Moss and ferns dripped from the rock wall lining the walkway a sign of the shadowy moist life in the gorge.

Next came Bridal Veil Falls cascading between moss encrusted boulders. The creek rumbled over rocks as the spring melt rushed towards the Columbia River. Anther trail takes the visitor along several viewpoints overlooking the Columbia River where the Portland can be seen far in the west and Bonneville dam to the east.

A short drive took me to Wahkeena Falls, falling 242 feet from the high cliffs then tumultuously tumbling downhill under a sweet little bridge. A short hike takes you to the base of the falls where the spray immediately cools you down from the exertion of climbing the hill. Another stone picturesque bridge awaits you here and beckons you to continue on.

I would recommend that you do continue for although the way is steep the beautiful little falls that awaits you a mile up the trail is well worth the effort. Fairy Falls cascades over a series of rocks in a horsetail reminiscent of waterfalls found on islands of paradise. There may not be a pool at the bottom to swim in, but I could easily imagine little sprite showering in the cool waters.

After that, Olympia was a bit weary so I made a quick stop at Multnomah Falls before continuing on to Horsetail Falls and camp to rest for the afternoon. That evening I drove back to Crown Point to watch the sun set over the Columbia River - a sunset deserving of a standing ovation.

Slicker than Snot

Latourell Falls, 2 miles, 3/23/08

Step, slip, glurp. Euw! Step, slip, glurp. Euw! Step, slip, glurp. Euw! Sometimes, thinking about the weather and location, and what they might all do to a trail would be a good thing to do before heading out on a short hike to see a waterfall in your jeans and sandals. I had let Olympia trot ahead of me as we climbed up the hill - all I needed was a tug the wrong way and to slip again and for the second time that day be covered in mud. Then again, as I looked down at my feet, I might have to do that anyway. Olympia, happy to be hiking splattered mud onto her legs, tail, belly, neck, and is that mud on her forehead? This better be a damn pretty waterfall.

I had tried to be careful as I trudged up the hill - stepping in what looked like solid patches of ground. But it didn't take much time before mud was squishing between my toes. To make matters worse, I would have to walk back down that muddy hill! Then the mileage I thought I read turned out to be twice as much and I wondered if my journey would ever end.

That's when I heard it - the unmistakable roar of a cascading river, thick with spring melt. Turn a corner and there it was, a beautiful horsetail falls dropping over 100 feet to the pool below. Olympia played in the creek as it flowed from the pool while snapped a few shots, playing with views and exposures. And then it was back down the muddy mess of a trail carefully stepping around the biggest mudholes. Although I could have gone barefoot, it would have been less mud grinding into the soles of my feet.

A quick trip to the bottom of Latourell Falls finished off our hike. One last word - the towel I had brought for Olympia on the trip was truly mudfilled and it was only the second day of our trip.

CHS - Rattlesnake Ledge

Rattlesnake Ledge, 4/5/08, 4 miles, 1200 elevation

This year, Michael and I decided to get serious about hiking. OK, several of you out there are laughing, but really, we want to go on further hikes so need to work on our stamina and endurance. Our needs were answered with a class offered by the Mountaineers - The Conditioning Hike Series. The class takes you from shorter distance and lower elevation gain hikes to some extended and Higher elevation hikes (I think one of the graduation hikes is 17 miles). What better way to get ourselves ready for an adventurous hiking season?

Our first hike was to a favorite old haunt - Rattlesnake Ledge off of I-90 in North Bend. We met our group in the parking lot for brief introductions before walking around the north end of the lake to the start of the trail up. Now, Michael and I are slow hikers - there's a reason we call ourselves Trail Turtles, so it wasn't much time before we lost sight of our fellow hikers as they quickly made their way through the lush green of a coastal forest. Never wanting to be left behind, I began to push my pace so I could keep up, only to feel the nausea swell in my throat as my heart pounded through my chest. A trip up Rattlesnake generally would never make me feel this way, but I was pushing myself too hard to keep up and had to stop to regain my breath and heart rate.

We again met up with the group where the snow still covered the trail and obscured the ferns that grew so thickly near the start of our journey. After stretching Yak-Trax over our boots, the way became a little less slippery and we made good time to the ledge. Clouds hung in the sky threatening rain but none fell on our little respite overlooking the partially drained lake. Our leader broke out some chocolate covered hazelnuts to share with the group as we sat sharing stories and views.

Our way back down the hill was paused as Michael whipped out his saw and helped to take a fallen tree out of the trail. I learned a bit on this hike. The biggest lesson learned that signing up for this class is the thing to get my rear in condition.

Spring Road Trip 2008

Another Spring and another road trip. I had planned to return to the Southwest and backpack through Bryce Canyon. But plans have a way of changing, so then came plans of exploring the Oregon Coast. But weather has a way of changing plans also. What I decided finally was a visit to some old Washington & Oregon favorites and few new sites as well. The best of the final plan was that I'd be able to travel with Olympia, my Yellow Lab mix who has been my companion for the past eight years - longer than my husband.

I started out at Mt St Helens then went to Cape Disappointment. From there, I traveled up the Columbia River Gorge for waterfalls and flowers. After a few days there, I continued east to the fabled Wallowa Mountains and the Zumwault Prairie. It was up to Palouse falls before heading home with one tired dog and several stories to tell. Tune in later for those fantastic stories and images.

Issaquah Alps

De Leo Wall, 2/23/08, 6 miles

Simply said, a bright sunny winter day needs to be hiked. I joined with the Mountaineers for a hike in the Issaquah Alps to DeLeo Wall on Cougar Mountain. The sun shone brightly and warmed the air slightly of the deepest of winter chills. Spring proved to be close as we passed shrubs with buds creating a golden green aura in the sunlight.

The Issaquah Alps encircle Issaquah on the southside of town. So close to Seattle and generally snowfree during the winter, they are a wonderful destination for early season hikes. There are 100's of miles of trails in the Alps that contain 3 mountains: Tiger, Squawk, and Cougar.

The trail starts at the Red Town Trailhead and follows through the rolling forest to climb up to a viewpoint overlooking the valley below from Mt Rainier to Seattle. On this day the view was stunning - Mt Rainier shone brightly in the distance and our group pointed out landmarks and details of the valley below.

We had a leisurely lunch in the sun-dappled woods before turning back along the lollipop loop to our cars.

Quinault River

6/10/06 - 12 miles

We were training for our epic hike in a month - a hike that had thwarted us twice before. This time we weren't taking any chances. Our longest hike for our trip would be ten miles of climbing in & out of steep ravines. So, we figured if we could hike up one of the river trails in the Olympic Park for six miles. That way, we would get a long mileage day under our belts before we had to really exert ourselves. We chose for the trip a trail neither of us had really explored - the Quinault River trail.

This trail extends into Enchanted Valley, but we weren't going to be able to make it that far. Six miles upriver and a turnaround would be a long enough day. Enchanted Valley would have to wait until later. Our day was covered with clouds but in this rainforest, the light shines through even the heaviest of moss covered trees. And as with rainforests, the recent rains that threatened to return all through the day, had soaked the trail to mud.

Now, I just want to say quickly that when you're hiking in the northwest - especially in a rainforest, hikers should expect to walk in mud. What is the excuse to walking around muddy spots on the trail only to create larger muddy spots and also destroying the plant life on the side of the trail? This is the reason we have hiking boots and gaiters people! Basically, what I am saying is that there is no reason to walk around mud in the trail - in the northwest we should expect it.

Now that I'm off that soapbox, the evidence of spring along the trail was everywhere wee looked. The vivid greens of the trees to the flowers on the forest floor we soaked up the vitality into our steps. Our way up the valley was slowed as we kept looking at the wonderfully large trees stretching into the sky and clinging to each limb; moss, mushrooms, and an assortment of other plants. As Michael oohed and aahed over the moss, we came across one large specimen of a tree that took our breathe away.

We finally stopped at a nice place near the river for lunch and rested under the trees. Both of us remarked that these huge trees are also subject to the ravages of the mother nature. Many trees, upwards to 5 feet in diameter, had been blown down over the river, their roots undermined by the raging river. Here these mighty trees were also vulnerable, subject to processes that weather brings.

We finally had had enough of rest and contemplation and went on our way. And just to test ourselves, we sped through the forest as fast as we could leaving in half the time it took us to go in.

Elwha Valley

5/30/06 7 miles

Memorial Day weekend. I had planned three days of camping and hiking in the Olympics, however weather seemed to interfere with most of those plans. We got to camp in Heart-of-the-Hills campground which I hadn't slept in since I was a young child dreaming of a life in the mountains. That experience brought back a flood of memories, mostly warm and cozy in a very damp forest. And we did get to hike a bit on Saturday, probably the best day that we had. As the snow was still hanging on in the upper regions and had hindered our planned hike, we opted for one of the river hikes - namely the Elwha.

I had been on this trail a year earlier with another friend, but because of limited time we only hiked the Geyser Valley loop. An enjoyable hike, but since we were also training for our trip along the wonderland later in the summer, I was hoping for more distance. Our plan was to go up the river as far as we could, turning back when weather or fatigue forced us.

Spring growth covered the forest floor; fresh new green of ferns, vanilla leaf, vine maples and berries. We walked through this vibrant green world when we heard the first of the distinctive sound that gave Geyser Valley it's name - grouse call. In the near past during the early explorations of the Olympic Peninsula, explorers and trappers heard the distinctive whoop, whoop, whoop of grouse, combined with the swirling mists from the river chasms led these adventurous men to mistakenly believe that geysers lay in the valley. And while we walked through these hushed woods we were accompanied by grouse.

We soon came across Michael's cabin, built by an early settler who made his way in the woods serving the locals by hunting cougars and later became a respite for travellers through the Olympics. A little further up the valley we detoured to see Humes Ranch, another early settler. A deer quietly grazed in the meadow in front of the cabin - I spotted her but a young family on the trail missed her until Michael pointed her out for them. The deer continued to graze oblivious to her observers. By this time the sun had come out to warm up the valley, sunlight glinting of the moist vegetation, and we were faced with a decision. We could continue along the Geyser Valley loop, head back to the main trail an follow it up as far as we wanted along the Elwha, or take a branch over across the river and towards Dodger Point. We had been warned by the rangers that the upper elevations of Dodger Point were still snow-covered, but we decided to head that way anyway and turn back when we needed to.

The rivers in the Olympics can be extremely temperamental and the Elwha is no exception. We crossed areas of landslides where the river had eroded the hillside below and took the rest of the hillside with it leaving behind soft loose earth that gives uncertainty to your footsteps. We reached the bridge across the river at the base of the Grand Canyon of the Elwha and sat for lunch on the other side. The only other living thing we saw during lunch was a spider weaving a web between the leaves of a huckleberry bush.

The trail to Dodger Point had not yet been cleaned up from the winter blow-downs and we needed to cross several trees stretched across the our path. But we weren't in a hurry and weren't concerned with time lost. At some point we decided it was time to head back home and retraced our steps back to the trailhead. As the afternoon slipped by clouds came back in to cover the valley and we were greeted by falling mist as we returned to camp.

Sheep Lake

I've decided to go back and look at other hikes we've done over this summer & maybe even prior to that. No real reason - just my desire to share. So if it seems like I'm skipping around, that's because I am.

8/6/06 3 miles

What happens when you mix an early morning hike with early summer weather? A surprisingly secluded lakeshore teaming with wildflowers. I drug Michael out of bed in the pre-dawn hours so I could take a few pictures of Mt Rainier at sunrise from Tipsoo Lake. The dogs, on the other hand were raring to go and quickly scrambled out the door and into the car. Our plan was to hike the Naches Loop after sunrise and be home early in the afternoon. What we didn't realize and what any good map would have shown us was that 1/2 the Naches Loop trail is inside the National Park boundary and off-limits to dogs. After a quick perusal of our options, we chose to head to Sheep Lake - a little 3-mile round trip hike from Chinook Pass.

Sheep Lake is along the Pacific Crest Trail and the placement traversing the hillside makes its profile to be relatively flat from trailhead to lake. After the summer we had in the northwest, the trail was extremely dry and dust clouds rose all around from our 12 feet pounding along. We watched the cars pass along the highway below sparkling in the rising sun as they drove along into the weekend. A mile later the trail turns into the woods and relative coolness from the trees. It wasn't much longer before we came upon the lakeshore.

Up until then, the flowers had been rather sparse along the trail. However once we came out into the meadow that embraced this little aquatic gem, the flowers didn't just color the shore they saturated it. Amongst the cottongrass grew cascade aster, spirea, elephants head, paintbrush and more. As Micheal took a nap with the dogs, I explored the lakeshore and meadow, coming across several nice campsites - a few occupied with young families. This is a perfect hike for families with young children - with not too much work you're in a mountain bowl filled with an alpine lake and expansive flower-filled meadows. And to top that, the lake itself looked as if it was boiling as the fish jumped to catch the mosquitoes hovered just above the surface. After a few hours, we head back out to even drier and hotter conditions.

We weren't 1/2 mile from the trailhead when Pasco our young Shar-Pei mix decided he had had enough of the walking, the heat, and the dust laid down in what little shade he could find and refused to budge. With more than a push and a shove, we finally got him moving again. We finally reached the parking lot that had quickly filled up during our little outing.