A big grey horse

Iron Horse Trail, 1/13/08, 6 miles

We know why they call it the Iron horse Trail and it has nothing to do with the railroads.

On a recent snowshoeing trip to Cle Elum, my sister & I ventured on the Iron Horse trail in the hopes of a sun-filled day and good company. The good company was there as we were pretty much the only people on the trail in the morning. The sun however, ducked behind an ice fog and looked relentless in it's persistence to block the sun.

As we tromped along the trail, I saw something in the fog. At first it looked like another human but the that didn't quite look right. Could it be some sort of animal? I asked Kristi what she thought it might be and her 1st instinct was also another person. But the shape just didn't look right to be a person. In fact, it looked somewhat horse-like. As we approached, we could see more clearly that it was indeed a horse - and a grey one at that. Grey, like iron.

He raised his head to look at us and then calmly went back to his trailer of hay. We continued on, giggling about the connection between Iron Horse trail and a grey horse eating in the middle of it. We passed him again when we returned to the car and he again ignored us. He was far too intent on eating as much as he could from the trailer of hay.

The sun did finally burn through the clouds, but to be honest, I don't think we cared.

Moss covered trees and a deep lake

Millersylvania, 1/12/08, 5 miles

On a drizzly Saturday morning, Michael & I headed out with a group of Mountaineers on a hike through the forests of Millersylvania State Park. We have often driven past the sign to the park on our adventures south of Olympia, but had never investigated this little gem set amongst the old moss covered trees and Deep Lake.

Our band of damp hikers meandered through old Doug-Firs and Cedars, crossed slippery bridges over marshes, admired the ancient maples dripping with moss and watched filtered sunlight glisten on the rain ripples of the lake. It had been cold, as is often the case in January but we needed a reason to get out for a little stretch of the legs. And there was no way a little rain was going to stop us from enjoying the rich forest textures of Millersyvania.

The lake is large - big enough to explore for a day by kayak. I'll have to remember that when wee get the kayaks ready this summer. (If we get them ready this summer - our hiking seems to take up so many weekends.) The trails meander through and connect to create miles of hiking pleasure. And during the winter, I can imagine you'd find solitude no matter where you went.

I did learn an important lesson while walking through a stand of moss-laden maples, I should never over look a little state park.

Two Dogs and a Snow Drift

North Fork Teanaway River 1/6/08 3 miles

It looked like rain on the wet side of the mountains. Go figure as the northwest winter has rooted into place for January. The dry side of the mountains had higher hopes with less clouds. Sometimes you just gotta get away from the rain. I was joined by my Sister and her husband their dachshund Joey and my lab Olympia. The drive over to the Teanaway can seem long especially with Snoqualmie Pass and the trails there so close. But the trip can be worth it if you want to see more wildlife and less people - on the way to the end of the Teanaway Rd, we spotted several wild turkeys but only one other car.

Already, before we even started up the snow-mobile tracked road, the sun was gleaming down on us warming at least our faces from the sharp chill in the air. The dogs raced up and down the groomed road as the humans strapped on out packs and shoes. Olympia, used to playing in the snow, led the way beyond the groomed road along the snow-mobile track. Joey, always happy to follow Olympia around trotted easily behind her. It would be later when we left the snow-mobile tracks that Joey would become the source of our amusement.

Have you ever seen a 5-inch tall dog leap through 8-inch tall drifts? Joey had two distinct tactics for making his way through the snow. The first was the straight-forward snow-plow method. He'd head off in the direction he wanted to go, head held high, using his broad chest and wide feet to advance his position. The other method is what I like to call the slinky method. Joey would leap up with his front half arching over the obstructing pile of snow and then his back half would follow the same arch. Nothing seemed to deter the little guy.

We stopped at the top of a hill for a rest and some cider, soaking in the sunshine reflecting off the snowy trees. Olympia curled up next to me, hoping I'd have one more dog snack in my pocket. Joey curled up with my sister, the cold finally effecting his little body. We left the same way we came in but the trail by now was well worn and Joey had little trouble navigating through.

Near the end of our trip, we came across a group of snow-mobilers we had heard on and off during our trip back. All graciously slowing down to share the trail with us except one. She had to be stopped by her friends and even then glared at us. I've said this many times - I don't mind sharing the trail with others and whatever mode of transport they choose. BUT, lets be respectful of nature and the others around you. This one woman gives a bad name to snow-mobilers and no wonder people don't want to be near them.

Puyallup River Walk

Puyallup River 1/5/08 4 miles

Every now and then when we're a bit bored with the wintry interior of our homes, my sister and I will find a Volksmarch in the area to stretch our legs a bit from the sedentary routines we get into during the short days. We found one close to home along the Puyallup River: a 5-10 K walk along a newly pave pathway. As I brought Zillah along for her long walk with me, we decided to keep the walk short at 5 K.

Kristi & I started our Volksmarching traditions when we were living together in Germany. She was stationed there in the Air Force and I went to live with her for a year right after graduation. Oh the fun we'd have planning our adventures and walking the German countryside. All around were smiling people trying out their English as we tried out our German as we tried to find our way from forest to field to town.

Once back in the states, we looked for events here and decided to head out when we could to enjoy a stretch of the legs, a deep breath of air, and a little sense of adventure.

Ringing in the New Year

Panorama Point 1/1/08 3 miles

Welcome 2008! After my farewell to 2007 hike on the 31st, Michael and I decided to head to Mt Rainier for a New Year snowshoe. A fresh blanket of snow covered the slopes behind Paradise and a sharp wind bit into our faces as we stepped out of the car at the Jackson Visitor Center. I will miss the visitor center once it's torn down later in the year. It doesn't fit the alpine experience, but the 360 degree view sure is nice. We will often swing around after a hike to sit back to relax and thank the mountain for it's pleasurable company that day. The new visitor center just doesn't appear to have anywhere near as wonderful an observatory as the old one does.

But we weren't there to compare and contrast the old and the new. We wanted to start the year off with a good stretch of the legs and warming of muscle, so up the hill we went. The powder was fresh and soft which made it a bit harder to walk through and slowed our progress. At the top of our first rise, I noticed the scenery around me seemed to sparkle even under heavy clouds. Off to the south filtered sunlight broke through to add color to an almost gray sky which also brought drama to the Tatoosh Range. Mt Rainier towered above us, the peak just barely visible in the clouds, bare rock ridges breaking through the snow cover. All around us were snow and ice encrusted trees looking as if they were wearing heavy coats to protect them from the winter chill.

At each rise along the way, I'd stop to admire these three beautiful views, each new angle, each new detail. I smiled at the icicles clinging to branches like Christmas Tree ornaments not yet ready to be boxed up for the season. Wind high on the mountain kicked up loose snow into a cloud around Camp Muir. And always behind us the toothy Tatoosh Range and the yellow/orange tinged clouds above.

Others had the same or similar idea as us this day and we passed a jovial group who cheerfully wish us a Happy New Year before rattling and blowing their noise-makers. Normally a tooting horn would be a disturbance in the wilderness, today it was cause for celebration - where else should a person rejuvenate themselves for a new year? Rattling a maraca seemed perfectly appropriate and matched the screams and laughter of the children sledding lower on the slopes.

We rested for a spell near Panarama Point before deciding it was time to head to the visitor center for a cup of hot chocolate, snow cushioning every footstep. Why can't we find something as soft to walk on in the summer so our knees don't get so banged up? Just as we started down the last hill we were greeted by a wonderful view of the old Jackson Visitor Center as it seemed to rise from the trees.