A year of adventure

As 2007 is put to rest and we begin to plan for 2008, I look back at what I had done this past year.At the start of 2007 the northwest was still reeling from the crippling storms of November & December of '06. The 2007 recreation outlook appeared rather bleak. Roads, trails and parks were closed which limited the opportunities to get outside for a little solitude. But I forged ahead to prove that we didn't need to sit in mourning for our northwest lands.

The 2007 New Year had me camping in the rain at Kalaloch (talk about bad omens). Later in January, Michael & I went to explore the storm damage when I fell, which laid me up for the month of February. But March came along to pull me out of my slump as I helped with few classes for the Mountaineer's Basic Photo Course. That kept me busy until I left for my grand vacation to the canyons of southern Utah and northern Arizona.

I got back home and started planning for my next trip to the Southwest as well as preparing for our climb up Mt St Helens in May. Exploration of the low-lands during April proved that spring was on the way and after our failed attempt at the mountain, we looked hopefully for summer. While waiting, Mt Rainier welcomed our return to her slopes - the damage couldn't hold back anyone who loved recreating on our grand volcano.

June started us out on our very rainy summer. Not a single camping trip on the west slope went by without our getting a little rain on us. We trudged through the Quinault Rainforest in boots oozing mud and water. The one time I camped on the east side with the Naturalists, I stayed dry. In August, I survived my first solo backpack - one wet night, but I did it and now I know I can. And then summer turned to fall and we found beauty in central Oregon on a short Labor Day road trip.

Our autumn road trip took us from Jasper to Banff to Glacier to Yellowstone. Always looking for sun but only meeting rain and snow. Then we came back home to watch storms and look for lowland hikes. And finally as the snow blankets our mountains one again, I must smile at a well-lived year. I have the greatest hopes for this new one.

Have an adventurous New Year!

An end for 2007

Coal Creek Falls 12/31/07 3 miles

Other than camping in a wonderful spot with a view, I can't think of anything better to do at the end of a year than a quiet hike in the woods. As the snow blankets the mountains at higher altitudes, I chose a little hike in the Issaquah Alps - on Cougar Mountain.

I usually avoid the Issaquah Alps, mainly because they are so close to Seattle and being so close to Seattle, you don't always get solitude. Tiger Mountain can be a rave party any time of year. I have found some solitude while on these trails - mostly on the unpopular trails. Today I was going somewhere very popular.

I had heard some description of Coal Creek and the waterfall there and thought what a good idea. The sun made an appearance as Olympia & I made our way to the trail. A quick stop for snacks and we were casually making our way up the hill drinking in the sun and the whitish bark of alders against the winter blue sky.

Although the parking lot was almost full, we met only two other people on our way to the falls. Olympia happily ran along the trail ahead of me, trotting back to check on my progress before going ahead. We heard the falls before coming to them, a good sign as most waterfalls are diminished or non-existent by this time of year. After admiring the falls, we continued on our loop to the ballfield meadow. Oh, if Camas has been replanted here, I'll need to come back in the spring for these beautiful purple flowers. On our way back to the car, we made a little side trip to see a some artifacts of the mining industry in the area.

I really shouldn't avoid the Issaquah Alps, for solitude can be found here as well as natural beauty and a little history thrown in.

Snoqualmie Boards

Snoqualmie Pass 12/29/07

Every time I drive past the ski slopes or watch winter snowboard events, I am amazed at the skill and enthusiastic joy these young people have on their boards. The closest I could think of to being out there with them - I'm too chicken to try it myself - is to take pictures of them as they spin and flip. So I decided to lead a Mountaineer's Photo Trip to Snoqualmie Pass during the Jib This! event. A yearly event that focuses on the 3 terrain parks and super half pipe at the Summit.

I was joined by Merry, Bruce & Paul in the drizzle in Issaquah before heading up to the pass where the weather was overcast but dry. Guye Peak greeted us as we climbed up to a nice overlook of the terrain park at Summit Central near Webb Ski School. After talking to Mike Webb, we were allowed to watch the event from the school's balcony. But as the morning wore on and the event didn't seem to start, Bruce and Paul moved closer to a jump uphill. Merry and I stayed on the balcony for the rest of the morning shooting the action and the sun glinting off the snow.

I'm not sure if the event ever started but I was able to fulfill a goal of shooting snowboarders and skiers and look forward to some more outings such as this.

Icing on the Cake

Snoqualmie Pass 12/24/07

Ahhhh. That felt so good, getting out into the snow for the first time this year. After several weeks of rain in the lowlands and accumulating snow in the mountains, Michael & I decided to brave the weather with the puppies and head to Snoqualmie Pass. It was to be the better of our four-day weekend and sometimes you just gotta run with the chance you get.

Zillah, our new 4-month-old puppy had yet to be introduced to snow and we were quite excited to see what she would do. Olympia on the other hand is an old hand at the cold white fluffy stuff and seemed to know just where we were heading. Zillah was unfazed as she and Olympia romped around the meadow.

As we didn't have all the protective layers for the dogs, we put them back in the car before we explored the meadow more. A stream cut through the meadow and we tromped along the bank above fascinated by the layers of dirt forming the opposite bank topped with and icy layer of snow - just like icing on the cake.

Our way back to the car led us past parents playing with their young children. Both the parents and the youngsters laughed and giggled and screamed as they glided down the hills on their sleds or threw snowballs. Almost back to the car, I glanced over my shoulder to see that the clouds a opened up a bit to splash a warm light over the hills.

I really needed that - but now I'm hoping I can get out there again tomorrow.

Birds at Alki

Last year I started a new activity: Winter bird watching at Alki in West Seattle. I was amazed the first time I went out with the Mountaineers naturalists to Alki and saw bird after bird: Scoulers, Cormorants, Grebes, Turnstones, Surf Birds, ducks, geese. The list went on and my excitement grew.

This year, I stood on the pier watching and photographing a pair of Cormorants fight over a fish. All of a sudden, they dropped the fish and flew off. Then into my viewfinder flew a Bald Eagle. He picked up the fish then dropped it again, maybe it really wasn't that great after all, and flew straight to me.

I was still basking in the experience of it all when a Sea Lion that had also been close by started barking and swimming closer to the pier as if to draw attention to himself and away from the spectacular birds surrounding us.

Whistle Lake

Anacortes Community Forest Lands 12/8/07 4 miles

As far as I'm concerned there are only two things that make winter hiking not worthwhile. First, in the Northwest winter means rain and who wants to hike in the rain? Second, with the rain falling in the lowlands, snow is falling in mountains and although I love to snowshoe, I like to consider hiking & snowshoeing two completely different sports and who wants to hike in the snow? And since I don't want to hike in the snow, that means lowland hikes in the trees, with few views except for tree trunks, salal, and sword ferns.

When I saw the hike for Whistle Lake and Toot Marsh advertised through the Mountaineers with the tag-line, "We stop for pictures," I had to sign up. Then we got a break. After a week of rain and clouds, the blue sky broke through the clouds to warm our souls if not our noses.

Whistle Lake is in the Anacortes Community Forest Lands, used by the whole community for recreation and education. The area is criss-crossed by trails - some multiple use others hiker only. Luckily the trails that go round the lake are wheel-free, so we weren't disturbed by the dirt biker who showed up the same time we did. The other hikers & I enjoyed quiet and the occasional splash of sunlight through the trees.

And ever now and then stopped to take in the views of the lake, reflecting a more brilliant blue than the sky actually held with Madronas reaching over the banks, their limbs contorted in reflection by the rippling waters.

Sunny On Thanksgiving

Can anyone believe the fabulous weather we had on Thanksgiving? The sun shone so brightly wee had to hop in the car and drive through Western Washington before heading to the family get together in Elma.

Our first stop was down the hill to Puyallup. neither of us had taken much time in the old downtown and were sweetly surprised by the various sculptures decorating the streets. We walked around awhile on the almost empty streets admiring the art before deciding to drive on.

The road took us to parts of our state we hadn't explored. Travelling between the farms in Yelm, Rainier, and Tenino, I started making plans of a springtime bicycle ride on the Yelm-Tenino Trail. From Chehalis and Centralia, the adventure continued along highway 6 to Raymond. Just a week later this area would be under 10+ feet of water, but today was a day for adventure and plans for more.

Along this route, I spied a yellow barn, decaying in the trees so made Michael pull over for a shot or two . . . or twelve. Other picturesque barns dotted the fields and we made note that a weekend in a friends cabin on the coast would afford us the ability to explore some more. As our time was getting short, we had to speed our trip to get to dinner.

A Month Off?

Mt Rainier 11/10/07 2 miles

I promised myself I would take the usually rainy month of November to sit inside and get some organizational stuff done. That lasted 10 days. When friends started talking about heading for Mt Rainier for possible snow pictures, I was right there with them.

What greeted us was not the blankets of snow we had envisioned but a thin crust of ice and snow. Traveling was a bit treacherous as we made our way past the new visitor center at Paradise to Myrtle Falls. Although the new VC isn't finished, it is completely enclosed and rapidly taking shape.

After grabbing a few shots of Myrtle Falls and the mountain that peaked out from the clouds just long enough to tease us, we continued up the hill hoping to reach a heavier dusting of snow along Mazama Ridge. However, the way became Even more treacherous and we decided to turn around, but not till after we grabbed some images of the glowing clouds encompassing the Tatoosh Range.

Lucerne Lake

Now the problem with trying to choose one image to define a day is that you downplay the rest of the images of that day. Mt Robson coming out from behind the clouds during breakfast was magnificent, is it any better than this one taken at Lucerne Lake not too long after?

As we drove along the highway to Jasper, the sky began to clear even more to reveal the brilliant azure blue of autumn. The lakes we drove past reflected this perfect blue. Then we came across the reflection in Lucerne Lake. My spirits and hopes reached a high that I believed this was how the rest of the vacation would unfold - crisp beautiful days of blue, gold and white.

Breakfast

From the Autumn Vacation Series

How does one reduce the experiences of a day into a single image? On most days that might sound easy, but take a day like our 1st in the Canadian Rockies and you might be hard pressed to do so.

By the time we had breakfast on that morning, we had already travelled several hundred miles through colorful aspen and green hills. By the time we had breakfast that morning, we had spied several glimpses of snow-covered granite beyond the yellow aspen and green hills, through the breaks in the clouds. By the time we had breakfast on that morning, our eyes were already sparkling with the opportunities of the day . . . of the trip.

Picking just one image from that day is an impossibility, but for now, I will give you this one - our view during breakfast. Mt Robsen had teased us forward into the mountains, shyly hiding behind fast moving clouds winking momentarily at us before disolving back into the white. We almost passed the visitor center at the Mt Robsen Provincial Park before deciding to take a break from driving. There amongst the buildings stood a little cafe and as we sat at the picture window sipping tea, the clouds suddenly parted to give us this view through breakfast - Mt Robsen in its jaw-dropping splendor tucked behind aspen and paper birch.

I couldn't eat fast enough to get out and spend some time recording the memory.

In Perfect Company

I mean no disrespect to my husband who is my lifetime adventure buddy, but I met my perfect hiking companion several years before meeting him. This companion shares with enthusiasm my passion for any time spent outdoors.

Take this past weekend, she & I went to explore Lake Wilderness Park in Maple Valley and its small yet beautiful arboretum leaving Michael behind. We wandered through the trees glowing in the orange, red and yellow of the season before immersing ourselves into the dark green of the surrounding forest. I know I'm not supposed to but at this time I let my companion of the leash so she could run down the trail as if she were the puppy I fell in love with so many years ago while I followed, laughing at her antics.

It's not often that a person can find someone who not only shares in their activities, but also shares the pure joy they experience while doing it. Michael enjoys the outdoors almost as much as I do, but just to walk through the woods on a drizzly Sunday morning is not his ideal. As long as she gets to sniff and roll and run, Olympia is just as happy as I am when I breathe fresh air, crawl on the ground with my camera, and just stretch my legs.

Here's to all our loyal friends, four-legged or not.

Storm Chasers

Rialto Beach 10/17/07

The forecast said winds, high winds, would be whipping through our area bringing with it the media hype only an early winter storm can bring. Ready for a little wind and wave action, Michael & I played hooky from work to head to the beach for the afternoon . . . the day BEFORE the storm was to hit. Poor timing wasn't all too bad for us.

After driving through the pouring rain around the north end of the peninsula, we made the decision to head to Rialto Beach near forks. The sea stacks there might lend themselves to some interesting pictures, if the weather held out. By the time we made it to Forks, the rain had lessened and was now coming in short showers between sun breaks.

The beach proved to be wonderful, with waves crashing on the shore - not as strongly as they would the following day - and blue sky overhead. Dark heavy clouds grew to the north of us and to the south. Waves blew sea foam into the tumble of driftwood as we made our way through the logs trying to avoid the waves and foam and the occasional squall. Looking back toward the east, a rainbow arched across the Quilleutte River. Clouds stretched from the storm clouds over the waves and sea stacks, across the blue sky.

We stayed until the sun set first turning the air golden then back to normal, as it lowered behind the clouds building on the horizon. Harbingers of the storm to come?

A Vacation Adventure

This fall, Michael & I went to the Canadian Rockies for our vacation. I hadn't visited this alpine wonderland since I was a child. Michael had never been. So it was with great excitement that we planned our adventures. I imagined days from my time in Colorado, where we might get a little snow in the evening but the sun would come out during the day to make the newly fallen snow glisten. I saw us hiking into autumn colored mountain meadows, to glacier toes, to alpine lakes and through herds of wildlife. Did I ever mention how horribly optimist I am?

What we got was two & 1/2 days of partially cloudy weather with snow flurries sprinkles. We took full advantage of those couple of days exploring the northern region of Jasper National Park. However, as we headed south on the Icefields Parkway the weather forecast we had hung our hiking plans upon betrayed us. Snow flurries turned into heavy rain in the lower elevations and thick snow with possible white out conditions at the higher elevations . . . and no hope of sun breaks for several more days. Our next decision would make our autumn vacation plans for the following year. We would continue to head south to what we hoped would be sunnier weather.

We passed the Canadian-US border in the rain. We passed Glacier National Park in a downpour. found some sun in eastern Montana. A little less sun in Yellowstone. But did get snowed on there too. By the time we headed home we were tired of avoiding the inevitable, winter was reminding us that she was right around the corner. The hiking boots may need to be put away for a little while so the can snowshoes come out and camping will take a turn for the cold. But I'm not quite ready to shift gears. And luckily once we got home, Autumn put her foot down for just a few more days.

What you will find in the coming days are pictures taken on our epic little adventure, and the story behind each of the images.

We've already blocked out a week in September for our return trip.

Autumn Hiking

Sourdough Gap 10/13/07 5 miles

Autumn days like today don't happen very often in the Northwest. So when the morning sun streams through my bedroom window, I hit the road with hiking boots on. I had hoped for morning clouds for a remarkable sunrise - like those I admire from the train window on the way to work. No luck with that this morning, the sky was perfectly clear and the autumn colors high in the mountains called to me.

Olympia would accompany me today, so the short hike to Sheep Lake was perfect. A bit of frost and snow greeted us at the trailhead just east of Chinook Pass, but the trail looked as clear as the sky. Olympia, who seemed ecstatic about going for a hike lead the way up the trail stopping every now and then to look for "wobblies" - chipmunks and squirrels - but was eager to reach our destination. It didn't take too long before I could smell the crisp scent of a campfire near the lake and then wee broke out from the forest to look at the smooth lake surface and perfect reflections of the hills surrounding.

We walked around the lake, allowing Olympia the chance to play in the lake and chase the fishes. But my thought of break, sitting next to the lake with my dog at my feet relaxing, soaking in the scenery, meditating would remain a dream. Olympia was raring to continue up the hill. But never having hiked beyond Sheep Lake, I was unsure how she would be able to handle the terrain and distance. But, I didn't want to return either, the day too perfect to waste.

I slowly climbed the hill behind Sheep Lake hoping to slow Olympia down and preserve her legs. We met a hunter who asked if we had seen the mountain goats in the rocks above the lake. I couldn't say positively whether I had or not - I thought I had, but couldn't say for sure. I saw something like a goat high above the lake but when I looked again either it was gone or just a patch of snow. Soon we were high enough to see Mt Adams and Mt St Helens off to the south. Olympia didn't seem to care, she just kept heading up hill.

Another hiker greeted us as we came to Sourdough Pass and she pointed out my options after I mentioned that I had never hiked beyond the lake. She told me that there was another pass just off in the distance, where I could see Crystal Lakes and it's a nice hike down to them for Olympia to play in or continue following the Pacific Crest Trail to Bear Pass. I looked at the snow-covered traverse of the north facing slope, looked at Olympia looking eagerly up at me and thought it couldn't hurt to at least go to the other gap and get a view of Crystal Lakes.

A quarter of the way across the traverse, I looked up to see Olympia trotting easily through the snow almost to the other side. Then all of a sudden the other pass seemed to only be further away then I first thought and the snow seemed far dangerous than it really was. I called Olympia back, but she only looked at me as if I had just asked her to perform brain surgery. The look of disbelief on her face was as plain to me from several yards away. After much coaxing, she rejoined me at Sourdough Gap where we had a snack and chatted with other hikers passing through before heading back down to the lake and the car beyond.

By the time we made back to the trailhead, Olympia's legs were about to give out but she got into the car to pass out for the ride home. I may not have realized my dream of resting next to the lake with my dog at my feet, but she is resting there now as I write this - tired but restful.

Mountains and Rivers

Labor Day Road Trip, part 3

We had camped that evening near McKenzie Pass so were able to wake up the next morning in time to catch sunrise as the sun started to reflect off the column of smoke from the nearby forest fire. We chatted with another couple who were on their own road-trip and had decided to watch the sun rise over the forest fire. They told us of several fabulous hikes that we noted for future trips and then went on our way.

Back on the western side of the mountains we again followed river drainages up to Mt Hood, watching as the forest became less infused with Ponderosa and more of the forest we knew from home. But we liked the drier more open forests of Southwest Oregon and the arid Ponderosa forest of Eastern Oregon.

By early afternoon we had reached Mt Hood and her pumice slopes. Far up on the mountainside, a large snowfield help on against the summer sun and heat. Also defying the summer were a few die-hard skiers, slowly making their downward to the pumice and even more slowly, made their way back up.

Our route took us around the eastside of Mt Hood through the many orchards to the town of Hood River. Here wee stopped for a bit to watch the sailboarders and kite boarders play in the fabled winds of the Columbia River Gorge.

After that, we joined the long line of traffic - holiday travelers heading home.

Forest Fires & Volcanoes

Labor Day Road Trip, part 2

Before we left on our little road trip, I printed out descriptions of a few of the scenic by-ways we'd be travelling: the highways along the western cascades, the loop through the cascades over Santiam and McKenzie Passes, and the volcano filled drive along the eastern cascades. Each gave us hints and tips of viewpoints and interesting stops along the way. We were excited about exploring the volcanoes on the east-side and woke up with high hopes of new terrain and exciting views.

What we woke up to on the shores of Suttle Lake was the column of smoke from the forest fire that that had settled into the valley over night. Ash fell onto our car in a thin layer as we ate breakfast and packed up camp. Our drive from Suttle Lake to Sisters and Bend beyond took us through the cloud of smoke, lying low over the forest. The plume of smoke would be on the horizon for the rest of our day.

Our first stop of the day would be at the Newberry Monument in the Deschutes National Forest. The monument is a caldera similar to Crater Lake but with twin lakes and the largest obsidian flow in North America. The wonders of Newberry Monument are as grand as the land that produced it. From Paulina Peak you can see a perfect 360 degree view of Central Oregon. We watched as the plume of smoke rose from the horizon to the northwest.

From Newberry we traveled along the volcanic lakes at the base of the east slope of the cascades north to Mt Bachelor. Here we found lakes, trails and snow parks ready for our adventures. But they would have to wait another day, hopefully they won't need to wait too long. Michael even began looking at real estate, we became so enamored with Central Oregon.

But our day wasn't over yet, we still had a trip up McKenzie Pass. I had been told of the fascinating beauty of McKenzie Pass, and was not disappointed when we came across the lava flows spreading out over the crest of the cascades. From here, we watched the sunset over the mountains, lava and forest fire.

Covered Bridges & Waterfalls

Labor Day Road Trip, part 1

At the last minute, Michael & I changed our Labor Day backpacking plans to a Labor Day road trip to Central Oregon. We had quickly driven through Central Oregon on road trips past but wanted to explore just a little bit more this land of Ponderosas and volcanoes. We found that there's just too much to try to cram in to 3 days - that weekend trips should concentrate on one area at a time and one activity at a time. This weekend was for exploring and now we have some ideas.

We drove as far as Eugene on Friday night so we could get an early start exploring the Willamette and McKenzie river valleys. I had looked up a few covered bridges in Lane County, ok I printed out 21 pages of directions and descriptions. So we spent the morning hopping from one covered bridge to the next before driving through the thick western forest that was at once foreign and familiar to us. Along with the Douglas-Fir and Cascade Azaleas were Ponderosa Pines and Manzanita a combination not seen on the western slopes in Washington.

We followed different rivers throughout the day, leaving one drainage to come into another then finally coming to the McKenzie River - an intensely clear river sparkling in the sun. We stopped at a series of waterfalls cascading over lava flows left thousands of years ago. The water was so clear, Olympia was fooled by the apparent shallowness of the rocks below that she stepped into the fast-flowing rapids only to be quickly pulled back by Michael, her tummy half dripping.

We finally crossed into the Eastern side of Oregon over Santiam Pass and was greeted by a great plume of smoke from a forest fire making its way north towards Black Butte. We camped that night along the shores of Suttle Lake.

Lunch On High

Burroughs Mountain 8/25/07 6 miles

Several years ago as Michael & I traveled along the wonderland trail we spied Burroughs Mountain not far from the Sunrise Visitor Center and vowed to return someday and hike up to the views we knew would be on the other side. After the office outing previously in the week, I thought this weekend might be a good time to head up.

The late flowers of summer were still hanging on to their last petals for the occasional bee that might fly by. They lined the trails and spotted the meadows with a bit of color. However, the first color of fall had begun to overshadow the yellows and purples of arnica and cascade aster. splashes of red enticed us around Frozen Lake to the junction with the Burroughs Mountain trail.

And then we passed into the Alpine Tundra zone of Burroughs Mountain - a fragile life zone that supports small plants, lichens, and the odd small mammal. The sign at the beginning of this life zone explained that this is similar to the Arctic Tundra life zone so to stay on the trail as a footstep will cause years of damage.

As we crested first Burroughs Mountain, we stopped to take in the sight and watch as more clouds built up around Emmons Glacier. The day had started out clear with the mountain gleaming in the sunlight, but as the morning progressed the clouds started building. As we reached the crest the top of the mountain was all but hidden. The clouds continued to drift past during our climb up to second Burroughs and our chosen lunch spot overlooking the Emmons Glacier and the White River.

One moment we could barely see the river below us as clouds obscured our view and frosted our fleece. Then the clouds seemed to part instantly to show us the hills across the valley if not the whole of Mt Rainier. After lunch and a visit from a local ground squirrel, we followed the trail on the other side of First Burroughs that led to Shadow Lake and back into the trees of the subalpine zone.

Out of the Office

Sunrise 8/23/07 3 miles

One of the benefits of working for an organization with close ties to nature is that we get to take a day here and there to explore some of the lands we work with. This summer it was Mt Rainier - on the Sunrise side.

Sunrise is less frequented than Paradise, but I think it's more beautiful. At Sunrise, you are right at the border of alpine and sub-alpine. Your views of the mountain are unhindered. And for me, the quite awe-inspiring expanse is everything I look for when high up in the mountains.

After a ranger walk and lunch, we all split up to explore different parts of the meadows surrounding the visitor center. A couple of people found shade under a tree with a view of the mountain to read a book or write a few thoughts. Others hiked down to Shadow Lake. While a few of us hiked up to Frozen Lake.

All in all, we enjoyed our day of nature and camaraderie and look forward to our next outing from the office to the lands we look after.

Soloing It

Summerland 8/18-8/19/07 8.5 miles

Did you ever want to do something so bad that you made plans every year to finally accomplish it only to back down later out of fear? Well, mine has been to do a solo backpack. There were years I made plans and just followed through. There were the few times I packed everything up, hiked to my campsite, set up camp, wondered around a bit, broke down camp and went home before the sun ever set. So at the beginning of this year, I said no more excuses - I would do a solo backpack, just an over-nighter. I had to prove to myself that I could do this - rely on my own outdoor ability to get by.

Michael & I decided I should head out on a trail we both knew, wasn't too difficult and was close to home (just in case I needed rescuing). The trail to Summerland fit all three of these criteria. Plus it had the added bonus of the most magnificent view out the tent window of Mt Rainier. And I would go on my birthday weekend. What better way to celebrate your birth than to accomplish somehting new?

Saturday started out beautifully. With a short warning from the rangers of a bear hanging out around camp, I made my way up Fryingpan Creek with the dayhikers and a few other over-nighters. The creek tumbled past as the water rushed noisily to the White River and beyond as if in a hurry to get to the ocean. As I climbed, snowfields high above glinted across the valley. Wild blueberries ripening on the bush enticed me further along to the crossing of Fryingpan Creek. I don't remember if the log bridge across the creek had been lost in last winter's storms, if it had been, a new bridge easily stretched across the cascading water.

On the other side the trees thinned out to reveal a meadow filled with cascade asters, fireweed, and those damned yellow composites. I figured I'd stop to get pictures the next day on my way out - right now I just wanted to get up the hill and drop my pack. So I continued on through the trees and past more wildflowers until I reached Summerland and the camp off to the right.

I quickly found a site, ate lunch, set up camp and hung my bear-bag (with all my scented items, on the advice of the ranger). I wanted to take a short nap before exploring the meadow more. I woke up with a cold stiff breeze flowing through the tent as I hadn't yet put on the rain-fly (it's wasn't going to rain - not on MY weekend). Sure enough, the clouds had set in and as I went to explore the meadow, I noticed most of the dayhikers had returned to the trailhead.

As I settled in for the evening, with the rain-fly on (just in case) the first raindrops started to fall. It rained all night. About 5:30 in the morning I noticed several very wet spots in my tent - in fact the whole floor was soaked. I laid there for a little while realizing the foot of my sleeping bag had also gotten wet and devised a plan. I got up, tore down camp, crammed some food items in my pocket to "breakfast" while walking and started down the hill, stopping only long enough to bang my poles together and yell "Hey bear! Run away bear!" just in case he wasn't any more brilliant than I and was also out in the rain.

As I walked through the trees early that very damp morning, I did have a sense of accomplishment. I finally slept through the night in the wilderness by myself. Now, is there no limit to what I can do? what will be next? A week in Bryce Canyon? But first I'll need to water-proof my old beat up tent.

Paradise!

Mt Rainier 8/10-8/12/07

Mt Rainier is well known in the northwest as a photographer's dream. Glass-like alpine lakes, cascading mountain streams, flowered filled meadows, dense moss covered trees, adventurers adventuring all with the massiff we call Rainier in the background. So, when the opportunity to take a few fellow photogs on a weekend trip to this image-making mecca came along, I jumped at the chance.

Historically, the wildflowers are at their showy best in the meadows of Paradise during the second week of August. I had been there before when there weren't enough colors in a crayon box to match the spectacle on the slopes. With that image in mind, the flowers this year were a bit disappointing. However, when I expressed my disappointment, my companions said "What? Are you kidding?" and set about framing picture after picture.

We spent the rest of the morning in the meadows playing with angles, colors and light. The rest of the weekend was spent shooting the lakes and waterfalls and a few camp robbers (chipmunks)that happened by and with a liberal amount of laughter and comraderie.

Picnic on the Sound

My boss invited Michael & I to go sailing with him this past weekend. Michael being a bit of a sailing aficionado, will never turn down a sailing invitation. So Sunday afternoon found us driving around to Bainbridge Island to meet up with my boss and his girlfriend. However, the air was still around us as we made our way across the Tacoma Narrows bridge. We turned on the weather band radio where we heard the barometer was dropping, so had hopes that we had a fun day under the sail before us.

Alas, we made it to the marina in Winslow Harbor with no signs of wind picking up. The water below us was glassy and still. Not wanting to let a beautiful day pass us by or the opportunity to be out on the water, we fired up the outboard motor and made our way out to the Sound.

Here we saw ripples across the surface of the water, but every time we head in the direction of possible wind, we found none. At some point, we turned off the outboard motor and decided to drift while we had a bite to eat. Away from water traffic, we could sit and relax as we watched the tugs chug past and ferries glide to their destinations.

A bad day on the water is still better than not being on the water at all.

A New Favorite

Grand Park 8/4/07 7.5 miles

There are just some hiking destinations that stay with me for a very long time: the Chain lakes loop on Mt Baker, Klapatche Park on Mt Rainier, Cape Alava on the Washington Coast, Bryce Canyon. The list isn't necessarily exclusive as it changes often. Sometimes a destination makes it on my list because the conditions were just absolutely perfect when I went. Sometimes they weren't but lack of fields full of flowers or crystal blue skies could not diminish the beauty and joy I experienced along the way. This is how Grand Park in Mt Rainier National Park can now be added to my list.

I had been wanting to explore the flower fields on the north side of Mt Rainier for several years but never found my way heading over there at the right time. After reading Karen Sykes' review in the Seattle PI on the trail heading up to Grand Park from Lake Eleanor, Michael and I decided we'd follow in her footsteps. However, Karen, your directions were a bit lacking - as we drove up the forest road, your directions said to turn right at 8 1/2 miles. However, at 8 1/2 miles if we had turned right wee would have driven right off a cliff. The turn actually takes place a little over 9 miles and even then it's more of the road goes straight with a junction heading off to the left. We were a bit confused until another hiker on his way out told us to keep on going - we'd see the trail ahead.

We found the trail as described and started toward Lake Eleanor along a gradual trail through open forest with berry and azalea undergrowth. Lake Eleanor is a smallish fishing hole set against the hillsides and frequented by both fishermen and mosquitoes. So after a quick stop to apply bug juice we were on our way. The description for this part of the trail was a gentle up and down before crossing a small meadow. Let's be honest, there is a gentle up and down but a drop off came upon us steep enough to make us question whether we were heading in the right direction. After backtracking to make sure we didn't miss a trail junction back by the lake, we decided to see where this down-hill took us. It took us to the small meadow. A bit deceptive, Karen.

After the meadow, we climbed through the mosquito-laden forest to an opening in the trees and a Lupine covered meadow. Passing through the trees a little further on to the great expanse of Grand Park. At once, my pulse slowed with wonder - the meadow stretched on. At each turn, the meadow continued. At the far end stood Mt Rainier partially shrouded by clouds. The flowers were plentiful with Contorted Louseworts, Small-Flowered Penstemon, Paintbrush and Cusick's Speedwell coloring the scene. I wanted to explore every corner of Grand Park but had only the afternoon.

I had expected more flowers, but the flowers there were beautiful all the same. I had hoped for unobstructed views of the mountain, but the glimpses became a bit of a tease. There were so many other things to look at. It was hard for me to leave this tranquility and comfort.

Wet Feet

Quinault Rainforest 7/27-7/29/07 24 miles

There is a reason why it's called a rain forest. If you need the help, here it is. It rains in the rain forest - even in the relatively dry days of July and August.

I had been planning a trip up the Quinault River through Enchanted Valley over Anderson pass and down into the Dosewallips River valley. But in 3 days we would have had two very long days of 10+ miles. Michael & I were just not in the shape to abuse our bodies in such a manner. So, we opted for a shorter hike up the North Fork Quinault River valley, then we'd head uphill to the Skyline Trail and back out again. 24 miles total with the longest day being 11 1/2 - whew!

We started out early Friday morning along the trail within earshot of the river. We were soon within view as it rumbled along over the rocks, twisting and curving around the sandbars. The first mile is a pleasant walk through green foliage sprinkled with splashes of blue & red berries hanging from shrubs and vines. At approximately 1 mile the trail crosses the river twice forcing hikers to ford the river without benefit of a bridge. I had never had to cross a river in such a manner - streams and creeks were no problem, but I was a little trepidatious about this crossing. After discussing the route with Michael, I took the plunge. The current pulled on my trekking poles and legs and the water frigid, but it was quite fun. I even asked if I could cross a couple more times after we crossed the second section.

Lunch was eaten at Wolf Bar camp another mile or so up the trail, a nice spot for a short afternoon break, if not a place to camp. But our camp was another 2 miles up river. We climbed out of the valley a bit, but never far from the river, as the forest became more dense around us. Moss appeared to cover everything. The moistness also presented a minor but irritating problem - mosquitoes. Out came the bug repellent so we could continue on in relative peace.

The moss-covered sign for Halfway House camp, our home for the evening, was soon at our feet. We found a campsite over-looking turquoise green pools as the river flowed through the canyon and thought it would be a wonderful evening to sleep under the stars. Remember those pesky little mosquitoes on the trail? Well they were in full military mode at our camp. Setting up the tent was our only refuge from the swarms around our heads. They may not have been landing, much, but they were damned irritating. We lounged around in the tent and as evening approached, we watched as clouds silently moved up the valley. But hey, it's the end of July, it's just clouds, no need to worry.About 4:30 in the morning, the rain started to fall. Michael quickly draped the rainfly over our tent and we settled down again for a couple more hours of sleep.

Saturday's hike would take us another mile up the river before we'd start a rigorous climb up the Elip Creek trail to the Skyline trail - a climb of almost 3000 feet in 4 1/2 miles. It would be long day for us as we are not fast climbers. By the time we got to the main trail from camp, my boots pant legs were soaked from the rain-moistened foliage of the surrounding shrubs. My feet would not be dry for the rest of the weekend. We turned off the main trail onto the Elip Creek trail and made our way up the ridge through the thick forest as it cleared to become tree-spotted meadow. By this time the clouds parted slightly to allow us views of the mountains toward the interior of the park. We contemplated staying in these meadows for the night as the view was stunning with the distant dark green valleys giving way to light green alpine meadow and snow crested peaks above those. But we continued on to our camp for the evening at Three Prune Camp.

We settled into our tent that evening after a quick dinner and listened to the rain as it splattered against the rainfly. I fell asleep to that sound and woke the next morning with the same spattering in my ears. The one nice thing about rain - the mosquitoes have better places to be than buzzing around our heads. My feet became wetter with each step as we made our way through the clouds that had embraced the ridge. Rain fell on us off and on throughout the morning as the trail led us past reflection lakes then Three Lakes camp before heading downhill and back into the trees. We saw no-one on the trail all morning until we came across a trail worker diligently clearing the trail of downed trees and over-grown shrubs.

Lunch was eaten at Big Creek where I rang out my socks, hopefully for the last time that day. The air had gotten warmer and we hadn't felt a drop of rain for several miles, so we peeled off our raincoats to finish off the last 4 miles. Within a mile the sun broke through the clouds to warm up the forest, we were already warm from the previous 7 miles. The trees seemed to glow with the light, finally showing itself. As we finally reached the valley, I noticed the trees of the forest had changed to big leaf maples arching over the moss-covered landscape. A creek wound its way through the trees, a lovely setting. But all I could think of was finding a spot to rest my still wet and aching feet. What I found was a mossy open stretch under moss laden maple branches. We rested a while, swatting away mosquitoes, enjoying the slight breeze and the opportunity to rest our feet. I could have stayed there longer, in this quiet and restful spot. But our car waited for us, a mile and a half away.

It didn't take us too long before we passed Irely Lake to the swamp that lay beyond. We had been warned by another couple about the swamp with mud several feet deep and an impossible route to follow. And here we stood, looking at a few random pieces of wood tracing out a possible trail. I went ahead, shaking my head and laughing at the predicament of top heavy backpackers making their way across 2" wide planks. Then I came to an area where there was no apparent way across. I decided to test the depth of the mud with my trekking pole - just how muddy would I have to get - when my pole thunked against a buried plank. I made it to solid ground and began coaching Michael across. The forest again changed to cedars with little undergrowth.

The sun soon glinted off of windshields and metal. Our 11 mile day was soon over and I smiled a smile of accomplishment. We stopped at the Quinault store for burgers, onion rings, and milkshakes. Warm food for our cold feet.

Breaking in Bonnie

Royal Creek 7/14-7/15/07 7 miles

My friend Bonnie has been listening for years as I regale her with my exploits in the woods. We had been hiking together, but Bonnie was ready for the next step - she wanted to go on an over-night expedition. So I planned a trip to Royal Lake on the Olympic Peninsula. It is 7-mile trip in to the lake - a respectable distance for me and a place I had been eyeing for several months. I also figured Bonnie, who is in good shape would also be able to manage.

On Saturday morning, I picked her up and we made our way to the trailhead. We started off strongly as we head up the Dungeness River, stopping to admire the rushing water as it roared down the valley. We began feeling our packs soon after the junction with the Royal Lake trail. A few rocks next to a sliver of a stream gave us an inviting welcome for a rest and a snack. But our way was becoming slower as the moss under the trees became more dense and covered everything in a thick green carpet.

As we passed 3500' marked with a sign warning campers not to use fires beyond this point (stoves only), I became a little worried that Bonnie might not make it all the way, we still had a bit of a climb to get to the lake. And after we met up with hikers heading back out with the news that wee had probably another 4 miles to go, I made the decision that the next suitable campsite we came across would be our home for the evening. Soon, we found a spot located a little downhill from the trail and not far from the creek as it splashed over rocks and around fallen trees.

Someone previously had used the area, if not as a camp but as a toilet and had left their toilet paper littered behind a tree. I will in a later blog expound on the Leave No Trace principles. I would have loved to give that lecture to whoever left the TP blooms. Bonnie couldn't resist and quickly busied herself burying the mess. As she was doing that, I noticed a fly convention a few yards from our tent. I had to investigate, because I would hate to find out if wee set up camp in an area frequented by bears. But what greeted me was something even more disturbing - an aborted animal fetus.

Before you ask, no, I did not take a picture of it. I just couldn't make myself. For the rest of the trip though, Bonnie and I referred to this little spot as the aborted fetus campsite. Nothing bothered us that night as we laid in the tent reading, and at least for me, it was a restful slumber. Sadly Bonnie was on a slope and kept sliding into the wall of the tent. The next morning, I lounged out by the creek while Bonnie caught up on a little more sleep. But soon it was time to pack up and head back home.

It's amazing how hiking out is generally easier and quicker than hiking in. We were out in almost no time. We didn't make it to our destination, but Bonnie had a good taste of backpacking and is starting to plan her own excursions into the woods.

Trail Etiquette #1

Denny Creek 7/10/07 4 miles

One problem with living so close to an urban area such as Seattle, where the citizens love to be in the outdoors is you run across what Michael & I term as casual hikers. Casual hikers are the folks who wake up on a Saturday, see that the sun is shining bright and decide that a hike might be just what they should do for the day. So with no planning whatsoever, they strike out for that trail a friend told them about for a nice little walk in the woods. It's not that casual hikers a bad, but they can become their own worst enemy when in trouble. Luckily most casual hikers survive their day in the woods and relate their enjoyment to co-workers on Monday.

But casual hikers are also going to be most likely to ignore or be ignorant of hiking ethics - the greatest of which are the Leave No Trace principles. I can go into those in greater detail at a later point. A common courtesy though, which I met up with on this mid-week hike up the Denny Creek drainage, is a question of right of way.

I was told several years ago that hikers, climbers, and other adventurers who are heading uphill have the right of way. Meaning, that if you are heading downhill and another hiker is heading uphill,, then you step aside, stop, and allow the uphill adventurer pass with a wave and a smile. This does not mean you plow right past them thinking they will step off for you. The main reason for this? It takes a lot more effort to regain your pace as you head uphill, where downhill momentum isn't as hard.

So please, next time you are on the trail and someone approaches you as they're heading uphill, do the courteous thing and step off the trail to wave them on. In the meantime, the image above was taken overlooking Keekwuhlee Falls.

Candy Canes and Waterfalls

Snoquera Falls 7/8/07 2.5 miles

What to do on a Sunday morning after spending a Saturday volunteering for your national parks? Why not take a short hike in the woods? Michael was on-call for the weekend so had to stay home. Instead, I took my best friend Olympia with me. And since Olympia can't go far, the short hike to Snoquera Falls was in order.

This is actually a fairly easy hike and is described in the book best Hikes with Dogs in Western Washington as not many hike this sweet little trail. The waterfall at the apex of the loop during early spring is a gushing cascade crashing down the steep cliff wall. However, this far into the season there's not much of a spray coming off the rocks. But who cares when you can have an enjoyable walk in lush green trees and carpets of moss?

We would have continued on the loop except that the last time I hiked this trail the loop is lost not too far beyond the waterfall. Also, when Olympia starts heading back to the car it means she's had enough and wants to go home. On the way back down, I made a little side trip to photograph a couple of Candystick flower stalks.

Beauty on the Eastside

De Roux Creek 7/1/07 6 miles

I hate to admit this, but I had never been hiking in the Teanaway area. So when the Mountaineers Naturalists needed help in the area with outings for their class, I jumped at the chance. I was attached to a group heading up the De Roux Creek trail.

For a girl raised on the wet side of the mountains, Eastern Washington holds fascination for me. I love the wide open views where the trees and undergrowth don't get in the way. And yes, I realize I might be a little strange for saying this, but I like seeing the brown - of the rocks, dirt, dried grass. It's just such a different color to the one that permeates everything on the westside.

yet here I was with the naturalist group studying flowers, ferns and trees - some of which were new to me and others in the group, but there were quite a few old friends to me, flowers and plants that I had grown up with and are a comfort for me to see - beacons of the hiking season. What a wonderful way to be introduced to a new hiking area - through old friends such as the Avalanche Lily, Elephant's Head, and Columbine.

I have every intention of heading back - and soon.

Looking for Alpine Flowers

Killen Creek 6\23\07 6 miles

We don't often get down to the Gifford Pinchot National Forest, although it is a beautiful area of Washington that includes the Mt Adams Wilderness. We get an opportunity every year at my family's annual camp out when wee all meet for laughter around the campfire and great camp cooking. This year while trying to avoid the damaged trails we decided to head back to the Killen Creek trail on the NW side of Mt Adams. The ranger at the Colville ranger station said the trails in the area were clear and the road leading down from the Orr Snow Park was open.

We had hiked this trail several years ago in the fall and found the views lovely from the meadows. I figured the meadows would be spectacular with wildflowers and the mountain behind. The ranger said that anything up to 4000 feet would be snow free. Now any look at a map would show that the meadows on the Killen Creek trail are above 4000 feet, but I was being optimistic. After all family camp out is a time of fun and good experiences.

Snow was found underfoot just as the ranger said it would - at 4000 feet. Man was she good. We trammeled over snow for another two mile to the upper meadow. However, the snow wasn't a solid blanket of white, patches of meadow showed through with a few wildflowers poking up. But the clouds had settled in around the mountain obscuring her from view.

Michael & I sat on a log, looking at the flowers brave enough to blossom in the early season, while we had lunch. When the clouds split and gave us the view we had been hoping for. There towering above us were the glaciers of Mt Adams.

One last word, and another reason why I enjoy hiking in the GP, we saw not another face on the trail.

Death in the Wilderness

Adventure Girl is deeply saddened this morning. I logged onto the Seattle P-I to read about Jeff Graves, an experienced hiker who had been lost in Mt Rainier National Park since Saturday. His body had been found at the base of a cliff near Eagle Peak. My thoughts and prayers go with those left behind - not only will they mourn the loss of their dear husband, son, father, and friend but they will also be called on to answer the inevitable questions.



Questions such as why did he go alone, why wasn't he properly prepared and why, why, why. To which the only answers could be because that is what he does. Please remember, Jeff was an experienced hiker. He left for his hike equipped for a dayhike - which let me tell you, going through his gear list is a lot better than I have seen on the trail. He took extra food, had a gore-tex jacket, enough water for a dayhike and a few extra hours. I have seen hikers climbing the steep slopes of Mt Rainier on hot July days ascend without pack or even a water bottle.



The same questions and speculations came after Robert and Frances Annette Blakely died in the Carbon River area earlier this spring. Speculations arose as to why they died - the mistakes they made. They were both experienced hikers who loved the outdoors and had been prepared for an extra night in the wilderness. But mother nature had other plans for them that bitter spring morning.



Why does disaster strike one individual and not another? I can't answer that question - the most prepared hiker can meet with disastrous effects where the least prepared hiker has a glorious visit. My only advice is to be aware. Watch your surroundings as you hike and figure out what you can do when events start to take a disastrous turn. Prepare not only your supplies but your mind. A walk in the woods is anything but. This is not admonishment to those that have lost their lives on the mountain we so love. It is more of an admonishment to those that would question them and their friends and families.

My other piece of advice: let them rest in peace for peace is what they were searching for in the first place. And let their friends families remember their loved ones as the remarkable person they remember.

Best Laid Plans

Hurricane Ridge 6/17/07 4.5 miles

I had been trying to get my friend T.K. to go hiking with me for two years, and for two years he has found one reason or another not to go. Granted, most of his excuses have been legitimate - working on his house to make sure he had a roof over his head or walls to hold up the roof. But it's been a long haul and unrelenting patience. What finally got him out? Her name is Nancy and she has the strength to pull him out of the house to experience some of the grandeur the NW has to offer.

I had planned a hike along Klahhane Ridge up to Mt Angeles - a good 8 mile hike through meadows of wildflowers and patches of snow. However, the patches of snow were a bit more than anticipated. We were stopped far short of our goal when we came across a steep slope filled with snow. I was rather apprehensive about heading down the hill so steep that we decided to turn around and try another trail.

Why not the trail up to Hurricane Hill? Again we would be hiking through wildflower meadows and hiking up to a viewpoint over looking the Elwha Valley and the Bailey Range. There was still a bit of snow on the trail but the lupines were starting to bloom as was the phlox and indian paintbrush. The marmots were out in search of edible blooms to nibble on; the deer were grazing in the meadows, napping in the trees. We even got to see a couple of bear across the valley.

One last word. As we stood atop Hurricane Hill, T.K. looked out over the valleys and mountains and wondered why he had never been before - it was only an hour from his house. If he had been any closer to the edge, I would have pushed.

Perpetual Motion

Plan A fell through for the weekend, as did plan B, plan C and a few subsequent plans after that. But our adventurous spirits would not be squelched, so we packed up the puppies and drove north. Our 1st roadtrip right after we 1st met was along the cascades loop. Head north on I-5 to highway 20, turn east up over the mountains through the North Cascades National Park, when you reach the eastside head south on highway 97 until you get to Wenatchee where you turn west and head back over the mountains through Stevens Pass. We left late so weren't able to stop too often - our agenda was to continue on until we made it home again.

The snow is still melting from the high country - in fact snow still lingered along the highway at Rainy and Washington Passes obscuring the meadows that in a few weeks would be alive with flowers and critters. The run-off cascaded down the hills at every turn. Large vertigo inducing falls across the valleys to the small trickles running through the rocks at road side. They blurred by us as we sped along the highway. I wanted to get out and photograph every one I saw, but we had so many miles to go.

We finally stopped in Winthrop for dinner. Sitting on the deck of the restaurant, I sat mesmerized at the cottonwood tree on the river bank. The wind blowing down the river flipped and flickered the leaves of the cottonwood in an hypnotic dance.

All too soon, we were back on the road. With necessary breaks and dinner, we made it home 12 hours after leaving. Too bad we couldn't stop for real sight-seeing.

Tree Hugger

I admit it. I am a tree hugger. There's something rather comforting about putting your arms around the trunk of a big sturdy Douglas-Fir and inhaling deeply the (forgive me) woodsy and earth filled air. I know, this admission ranks me up there with the wacko environmentalists, but I can't help myself. OK, once in a while you get sap on your shirt or a splinter in your cheek - I generally see these as little kisses from nature.

However, hugging trees isn't just the strange desire to grab onto something strong. There have been several instances in my life where hugging a tree has eased my passage through the woods or flat out saved my from serious damage.

I often reminisce of the hike along the northern part of Mt Rainier Park's wonderland trail when a tree came in very handy for our progress. We came across one of the many washouts along the way. the trail cut uphill through the trees on a trail that mountain goats must have built. Our downhill descent wasn't any easier and at one point the trail made a sharp drop about 5 feet down. With a full pack and a steep downhill, I was a little hesitant on jumping. But was able to grab hold of the tree next to the trail. I hugged that tree as it helped me safely descend the cliff and was able to continue after a gentle pat at the base of the trunk.

Another trip on the wonderland trail found me crossing a steep snowfield. I lost my footing, but was able to reach out and grab a branch from a nearby sub-Alpine Fir. I hugged that branch with all my strength to save myself from a slippery descent into its brethren far below.

Yeah, I'm a tree hugger, but I think in my case it's quite justified.

Hiking with Olympia

Her dewy brown eyes stared at me from the computer screen. A face so sweet, I couldn’t resist. This was the one: the puppy who would be my companion through city walks and forest trails. She had been aptly named Goldie by the shelter that had placed the photo so prominently on the web, but I would later name her Olympia – my little regal goddess. And she would become my constant companion on my travels. They would be as much her travels as they were mine.

She’s now 8 years old and has started to become lame. Far too young for my precious friend to stay locked away at home while I enjoy my hikes. But all too often, I must leave her behind for the hike is too long or too strenuous for her poor ailing legs to handle. It kills me to again look into her brown eyes now puddles of sorrow and tell her she has to stay home. She’ll sit by the door as I leave hoping I’ll remember that I had forgotten to take her.

A lot can be said about the will of a dog. Dogs have traveled cross-country to rejoin owners they had been separated from. They have stayed by owners who have been injured or killed in the wild and leave only as rescuers drag them away. Recently I had the opportunity to hike; a quiet trail surrounded by vine maples and hemlock. So as not to leave her at home mourning my disappearance, I brought her along with me thinking I’d leave her in the car – she’d have a ride at least. But after I reached the trailhead I let her out of the car, thinking I could loop her leash under her haunches for some extra support.

We hiked up hills, over streams, around rocks and logs, and down through forest. We stopped often to rest, relaxing in the tranquility. By the end of our 4 miles, I had yet to give her extra support. She limped a little, but as I looked into her eyes I knew. Taking her on this hike had made her happy. Her dewy brown eyes smiled up at me as she asked for help back into the car.