New Year's Visions

As I look back over 2009, I am struck by all the adventures I went on.

Helped a friend get to safety during an extended snowshoe.

1st time rock climbing.

Survived a spring snow storm in Moab.

Getting my hike leader certificate for the Mountaineers.

Rode on a zip-line.

1st 3-day solo backpack combined w/ 1st backpack on the PCT.

Spent a night at Camp Muir.

Stood on the edge of the Grand Canyon at sunrise.

It was a good year, filled with good memories. Next year can only be better.

Inventory Trip #2

Northern California, 12/14-12/18/09

My second trip for work in the DYNW Great Inventory Count was through Northern California with co-worker Amanda. We'd be heading to some of my favorite places in North Cali and meeting some great people who work with us.

Our first day was spent on the "big loop" around Lassen National Park taking counts of our sites in Lassen National Forest. I love Lassen NP, has all the cool stuff of Yellowstone and none of the crowds. The gateway communities for the park sometimes forget it's there. While that's a shame for the splendid beauty of the park, it's a boon for people like me who enjoy a bit of solitude on the trail. It took us 13 hours to drive the circumference of Lassen hitting Falls River Mill, Susanville and Lake Almanor. By the time we left Lake Almanor it had been snowing for about an hour. As we reached the pass just south of the Park, we were getting warnings that chains were mandatory. As we were driving a rental, chains were not evident. We decided to try our luck anyway. The worst DOT could do was turn us around, making our day even longer. But we got through, just very slowly.

Our next couple of days would be spent driving to the various locations in the Shasta-Trinity National Forest and Shasta Dam. No more snow storms to drive through, we decided to try our luck with a couple of snowbound tourist destinations - McCloud River Falls and Castle Lake. I would have loved to have gotten closer to Mt Shasta, however the snow would have turned us back before we got to the tree line for an unobstructed view. We decided to be satisfied with the magnificent view from Castle Lake.

From there we drove out to the McCloud River and a series of waterfalls. Always a sucker for waterfalls, I drove along the beat up snow covered rutted road into the falls. and promptly got the car stuck. With much maneuvering and throwing out of ideas, Amanda & I got the car unstuck, grabbed a couple of pictures of the falls, then quickly got ourselves out of the mess we had gotten into.

I never get to spend enough time out in these other areas of our territory and feel I am missing some quality adventures.

Inventory Trip #1

Eastern Oregon, 12/7-12/10/09

This year our company sent us out to all the corners of the northwest to count inventories. My first trip would be to the Northeast Oregon area - Bend to Enterprise. I was assigned this area because I don't mind driving in snow and there's several passes I would need to go over along my way.

I flew into Redmond/Bend airport late in the morning and stopped by to pick up my rental car. The customer service gal mentioned I'd be driving an H3 and I wondered if I was supposed to know what that code meant. It took me a few seconds to realize that what she meant was an H3 - Hummer. OH S***! I'd be driving a Hummer! My boss & I had been joking about my needing a Hummer for Michael to allow me to go but I really didn't expect to be driving one. But I was glad to have it. Bend had been hit with a snow storm the night before I arrived and then sub-zero temps. The roads were slick. I slipped a little in the H3 but generally the beast handled the conditions rather well. Our manager & I actually had a little fun tootling around town in it.

The next morning, as I stepped out to load the car, the snow crunched beneath my feet. The night had been so cold ice had formed a thick layer on top of the snow. As I tried my best to scrape the ice off my windshield (my arms are too short to reach enough to make a difference) I noticed the temp was -11 degrees. YIKES! Glad to be in a well-heated car. But the sun was coming up, a rosy sky greeted me as I drove to Prineville. It was promising to be a marvelous day. It was -5 when I stopped to take pictures of the steam coming off the lake - my finger quickly froze and I quickly retreated to the warmth of the Hummer.

After Prineville, I made my way to the John Day Fossil Beds National Monument. Last time I was here was spring a couple of years ago. I wanted to see the painted hills unit with snow on them. Again I was happy to have been driving the H3 - the road over Ochoco Divide had several icy miles and the road leading into the Painted Hills unit was nothing but compact snow & ice. But the hills were as amazing in snow as I had hoped. I was having so much fun shooting the shapes & lines I almost didn't notice the cold. Almost. Next time I'm out here in the winter like this I need to stop at Blue Basin - if the painted hills look this cool, I can just imagine how the Blue Basin will look.

I stayed the night in John Day and the next morning made my way to one of my favorite areas in Eastern Oregon - the Wallowas. The day was so cold the cows standing out in the their fields had a bright shimmer of frost coating their hairs. The cold was becoming torturous. I was luxuriously warm in the Hummer. I toured around the Wollowa valley after the inventory count was finished. Drove to the end of Wallowa Lake and hoped for a sunset but there wasn't one happening for me. Explored a couple backroads and came across a stream with unusual ice formations - the ice had a rippled effect underneath the stream. Was so cool I had to get a couple of shots.

The next morning as I started my drive back to Bend and the airport I was stopped by steam coming off the Wallowa River hoarfrost forming on the branches and rocks, the sun streaming through to create a golden mist. I was enthralled. A To me, a marvelous send-off to my trip.

Haloweenies

Old Robe Valley & Big 4 Ice Caves, 10/31/09, 5 miles, 100 elevation

Forget the Trick-or-Treaters. Forget the parties. Give me a rainy Halloween in the woods.

A few years ago, a friend invited us on a Halloween hike. However, we had other plans and had to forego the fun. Another invitation came this year and we pushed aside all other invitations to go. The name our friends were giving to our day of hiking was the Tunnels of Terror. The only terror, was that I'd actually hike with an umbrella. Yes the rain was falling so heavily as we started out down the Robe Valley that I actually pulled out the umbrella. I'm a true Seattleite and hiking with an umbrella just seems wrong. But after a backpack in Mt Rainer a few years ago when it rained all 5 days of our outing, I decided getting soaked thru-and-thru may not be the most enjoyable way to spend a day.

We finished the Robe Valley hike without reaching the washed out section right before railroad tunnel. We then decided to head up to the Big Four Ice Caves for a quick picnic and another short hike. For lunch, we broke out our costumes and bags of candy to share. Then we were off on the trail to the ice caves. Rain continued to drench our boots from both the top and the bottom from the puddles accumulating in the trail. At points, the trail itself was a stream bed for a stream that had over run its banks.

We played a bit at the caves then returned to town for well deserved hot cocoa and dry socks and looking forward to another Halloween hike. You too can find fun places to hike on Halloween. But don't forget your costumes and don't leave behind the candy, Halloween is for the kid in all of us after all.

A Little Fall Color

Hoh Rainforest, 10/23/09-10/25/09

When I was a young girl, my family would spend a week in the Hoh Rainforest every other summer. Some summers were wetter than others and I can remember hours spent inside our trailer reading as rain pattered on the roof and windows. There was something special in the rainforest. I knew it even then. So now when I want some time to feel the primal forces of life, I head to the rainforest. I love the rainforest in the summer, but began to appreciate what the forest had to offer in the autumn and will often take refuge in the cooler damper days of October.

This year I took a group of photographers with me to explore the old growth trees adorned with thick moss. We camped in the campground inside the park and woke to elk foraging through the undergrowth. A few of my fellow campers gathered at a safe distance to set up cameras as the elk settled in for a mid-morning nap. We took our leave of the dozing elk to meander through the Hall of Mosses nature trail.

We stopped to photograph a Pileated Woodpecker high on a snag. A stream then held our attention for a while before we started up the hill to the trail. Our group laughed and talked and photographed all morning and early afternoon. On our way out wee were stopped by the sighting of a Northern Pygmy Owl and we just couldn't seem to tear ourselves away. But we had to as the promise of a sunset at Ruby Beach was becoming more of a reality.

As we sat at Ruby Beach waiting for the sun to lower below the horizon we noticed our promise of color would be blocked by a fast approaching cloud bank. Not wanting to waste an opportunity, I began to photograph the waves as they came up the beach. Their foam trails heading back out to sea excited me and the rest of the group had to pull me away for dinner.

The next morning, the elk had moved on and so would we - onto Sol Duc Falls and more moss-covered forest. Each photographer that had joined me on my outing to my corner of living forest came away with great memories, photos and stories.

Colorado National Monument

10/10/09

We were finally coming to an end. We had left Mesa Verde early in the morning, stopped to see the Black Canyon of the Gunnison then veered off the highway to one last little green spot on the map - Colorado National Monument. It took a little wheedling but I convinced Michael that we should at least see what this was all about. He wasn't too sure - how could anything interesting be found so close to Grand Junction. He was wrong.

Nestled into the hills are a network of canyons and mesas, needing to be explored. Not by us, at least not yet. Ute Canyon was the most intriguing for me and the creek wove its way through the cottonwoods just starting to turn. It seemed like a fabulous fantasy world and I wanted to follow the creek into another world. It was not to be - we needed to be on our way.

Add yet another treasure to the list of need to see more.

Black Canyon of the Gunnison

10/10/09

Talk about places we visited and didn't stay long enough, Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park would be at the top of that list. One quick run into the visitor center then a short drive up the rim road was all the time we spared. How silly of us!

Here is a place of grand geologic proportions that an hour is far too little to even scratch the surface. All I could do was take a few snapshots and read the pamphlet to better understand what I was missing. Do not make the same mistake - find the time to explore this wonder.

Mesa Verde

10/9/09

The alcove was filled with a sort of revered silence, the sort you "hear" in a cathedral or museum. The ancient masonry seemed to echo the silence all around, hushing our voices into a whisper. It was hard to imagine a lively bustling world here - children running, laughing around their mothers who ground grain gossiping about the latest romances, men bringing in their latest hunting successes. That was hundreds of years ago. Now it was a small group of tourists speaking in hushed tones in deference to the spirits that seemed to be watching us.

A little paranoid? Maybe. However, whenever I walk through an old ruin such as this, I have a sense that i am sharing this space with those who walked before. I first felt these other "souls" while visiting the castles of Germany. Late in the afternoon, when few people were around, I could almost sense the bustle of castle life around me.

here at Cliff Palace, early in the morning with only a dozen other tourists in our group, the effect was similar. Except there was no bustle just the answering tones of hushed voices in the shadows. It could have been a echo from our conversations, but I like the fantasy of a place so special it holds the essence of those who once lived there.

As the day wore on and we were surrounded by more tourists, the effect was lost. It wouldn't be lost on my memory - to have sensed the life a place once held.

Chaco Canyon

10/7/09

Dark and lonely rural road late at night. No one else around as we drove along, static playing intermittently on the radio scanning for a station - any station. "Make a right up here." We turned just as another set of headlights appeared coming toward us. They turned to follow. They appeared to be catching up. I didn't say a word, but I knew what Michael was thinking. He had watched one too many horror movies. As the car following gained on us, Michael pushed the gas pedal closer to the floor. And he wonders why I don't watch those types of movies. "Our turn is coming up." I hoped the car wouldn't make this turn also - Michael's paranoia was rubbing off on me. We turned, the other car continued on. whew. But that would not be the last of our concerns. The last 20 miles to Chaco Canyon were on a heavily potholed and washboarded dirt road. If we broke an axle out here . . . I don't want to think about what would have happened. Sure, someone would have come along at some point.

As the next day dawned, we were rewarded with Chaco Canyon and its wondrous ruins. I saw my first pueblo ruins while in New Mexico several years ago and was enraptured by the story and the fantasy of it all. Walking through the ruins of the Chaco Culture only emboldened the images in my mind. Here was a valley filled with communities large and small of lives lived centuries ago.

There are 6 pueblos along the road through Chaco Canyon all within easy walking distance of each other. We meandered from one to the other, stopping to observe petroglyphs on the sandstone cliffs or watch the Cliff Sparrows flit in and out of their nests. We had a wonderful morning speculating what the drawings meant or how the ancient people lived. All the while we wondered when we could come back to explore the 6 backcountry ruins.

We both became fascinated with the different construction methods - how the bricks were laid, the wood supports. Including how these structures have been able to stand over the elements and the years. Time and weather have taken their toll and we watched as park employees worked on shoring up the crumbling walls. It may be race against inevitability,but while the structures last, we have a small window to view a past in all our lives.

Petrified Forest

10/6/09

In the deserts of eastern Arizona is a magical colorful place - Petrified Forest National Park. We were hurtling down the interstate late in the day as we came upon the park that straddles the highway. Since we weere herre to explore, we decided to make a quick drive through as much of the park as we could with at least one stop for a nature hike.

Our first stop overlooked the painted desert unit of the park. I was immediately struck by how much the colors reminded me of the Painted Hills in Eastern Oregon. In the late afternoon sun, they seemed to radiate with color. We hastened our way along to our next stop, pueblan ruins and petroglyphs. Our view was of flat prairie extending seemingly forever. I felt uneasy the first time I had ever seen the prairie-lands in their immensity. I grew up in the forest-cloistered northwest where our next view was always obstructed by another tree. As I lived longer in the midwest and its prairies, I began to recognize the beauty in them. This afternoon, the extensive views were relaxing, a soothing presence to my soul.

Up to this point, we hadn't seen much of the petrified forest but as we drove along we began to see the ancient logs, the wood fibers replaced by silicone particles lying about the eroded hills. It was here we decided to get out of the car for a stroll along a pathway through eroded hills that slowly exposed the fallen trees. The lowering sun cast dramatic shadows along the hillsides highlighting the cracks and crevices, exposing trees still embedded in the sandstone. It was a fascinating place that deserves more than the little time we devoted to it. I can only hope we are able to return soon.

Walnut Canyon

10/6/09

We love finding those little out of the way treasures while road-tripping. Sometimes it's a country road filled with bucolic scenes. Sometimes it's a little known national treasure. Sunset Canyon the day before was one of those. And now, just off interstate 40, we came across Walnut Canyon - a community of cliff dwellings in a quaint, colorful, bucolic canyon.

The native Americans who settled here came from closer to the volcano called Sunset Crater. Driven in fear of the earth to a better place with less fear. They found Walnut Canyon and as we walked around the cliff dwellings, we could understand why this seemed like an idyllic place to live. In fact, Michael began looking for a nice piece of real estate to build his own cliff dwelling.

Being near the interstate, people visited here more than Sunset Crater. Yet we had most of our hike to ourselves. The trail wound its way along the cliff walls and into alcoves perfect for building a home. Partial walls were left and fire blackened walls. We could look across the canyon to other dwellings built between the sandstone stria. We could have stayed there all day, but the open road called us along. So with hearts not sad but thoughtful, we left to find a picnic spot and then back to the interstate.

Sunset Crater

10/5/09

Every now and then we stumble across a hidden gem while on a road trip. This trip we stumbled across two gems in the National Park Service that we never heard about. The first is Sunset Crater, a volcano that erupted centuries ago and disrupted the lives of the native peoples who lived in the area. The story of Sunset Crater still lives on in the narratives of local Indians.

Our stay would be overnight and it would be our coldest night on the road. We had a fabulous fire to warm ourselves before going to bed. I had hoped to stay up for star trails, but the temperatures were dipping into the low twenties. The fire and my sleeping bag sounded far more comforting that a chilly night beside the tripod.

In the morning, Michael & I explored the nature trail behind the volcano. We would have liked to make the climb, but the park service closed down climbing on the cinder hill when the trails created gaping scars in the slope. Thirty years later we could still see the scars in the hill.

It's a great little place to see and highly recommended a stop.

Flagstaff & Sedona

10/5/09

While planning our trip, Michael & I decided we wanted to see the communities of Flagstaff and Sedona. Both were places we wanted to see as they were in our dreams of being places we might desire to live.

Flagstaff came first on our journey out of the Grand Canyon. I had been thinking a lot about this Arizona mountain town for several years. I was wholly disappointed. This was not the quaint mountain town I had been dreaming about, but an average place with sprawl and without personality. Needless to say, we didn't stay long.

To drive to Sedona, we went south through Oak Creek Canyon. From the rim as we started do to the end where we came out to Sedona I knew that this was the place for me. Close canyon walls, pine forest along oak creek, multi-colored sandstone. I was loving it and here I wanted to stay.

And then we entered Sedona. If there is a more perfect setting for a town I can't think of it. The sandstone formations surrounding town made this little piece of heaven feel as if we had driven into a faerie land. I was smitten.

Grand Canyon

10/4-10/5/09

My hands rested lightly on the rail. In front of me a hole deep and wide filled with the colors of the ages. I was here. On the edge. The most famous hole in the world. A gash so wide, so long it takes days to travel the rim or to float down the Colorado River that tirelessly carved this masterpiece that we know as the Grand Canyon. I couldn't stop the smile from my lips or the satisfaction in my heart.

I wanted to drink in the scene in front of me - the color, the lines, the light. The mesas and ridges faded off into the distance as the sun faded in the sky. This was a moment of discovery and I wanted it to last. And I wanted to share it. The light finally faded from the sky and we made our way to find camp - to set up the tent in the dark and make a dinner I was glad we couldn't really see. At least it went down all right.

Predawn and I found myself walking along the road to the lookout closed to all vehicles except the shuttle which hadn't started its run. I was there alone. Surely there must be someone else here in the early morning cold and wind. No one. I wandered along the rim to see where I wanted to be as the sun rose above the horizon. It was the alpenglow on the mesas that stopped me in my tracks. They seemed to vibrate with color and light. I alone was its witness. A discovery for myself, a discovery to share.

Later, after a visit to the Kolb Studio, we rode the shuttle to Hermit's rest for a hike back. Glimpses of the river below made us yearn for a trip of a lifetime. What I would give for that trip. To see the canyon from such a view. To explore the side canyons. To explore the ages.

We took a side trail, the trail that was replaced by the new wider and paved trail that was farther from the rim. We wanted to be closer, to see over the edge. An amazing experience to see down into the canyon while hanging onto a tree clinging to the edge - your only support from falling in. Then below us a fox darted along the edge. Something we would never had seen if we had stayed on the paved trail. He darted into a crevasse then back out and around the corner. Now that was a great little experience.

As we soaked in the day's experience over lunch, a large dark shaped floated on the winds just above the canyon rim. A condor. How great! Condors drifting on the canyon's currents. I about jumped out of my seat to run for that shot. We saw them after lunch basking in the warmth of the sun, wings outstretched just below us. I was ready to stay longer, but our whirlwind trip spurred us on.

Zion

10/4/09

I like Zion, but feel as if I hardly know her. What can a person expect if you never make the time. If you want someone to be your best friend, you don't stop to chat for a few seconds as you're moving on to somewhere else. You want to make the time, have a cup of coffee, go shopping, find the secrets and the love between you and your new friend. I haven't made the time to make friends with Zion . . . not yet.

We got in late after Cedar Breaks with the intention to stay all morning, hike through the narrows and get to know this beloved park better. It was a temperamental park we got to know. Winds thrashed through the canyon as I imagined a flash flood would - rattling leaves, bending trees, lifting sand into the air and carrying it along. Above us, the clouds raced across the sky, imitating my own history of stopping by to say hi and then moving on without a look back.

It would be Zion's wind that would make us leave a little earlier than had planned. It wasn't Zion's fault. She just wanted to let me know there is more to her than what I've allowed myself to know. Our hike up along the Virgin River although enjoyable, was wrought with efforts to keep my camera clean and dirt out of my eyes. During a short walk along a more protected area we came across several deer grazing in the trees. A pleasant surprise, especially after seeing a couple of wild turkeys earlier during our ride on the shuttle. Just one of those little secrets I so needed to know.

Driving out from the valley to the upper reaches of Zion, we'd see little arroyos running off along the side of the road and we had to fight the urge to stop to explore them. Again, I had somewhere else to go. Some other place calling. A trip ahead that needed to be finished. When will I make the time to make Zion the trip and not another pace? Soon, as I would love to have Zion as a friend,to be able to stop and have a cup of coffee and learn her secrets.

Cedar Breaks

10/3/09

I was quiet here. No sound except the crunch of leaves under my feet, the twitter of small birds and the wind through the trees. It was easy to lose myself in the solitude. No-one was here. We had nodded at a few people at the overlooks, watched as kids finished their Jr Ranger badges with one of only two rangers on duty at the visitor center. But it was late, in the day and in the year. A beautiful place such as Cedar Breaks must attract attention during the height of tourist season. Right now I was enjoying the fact that tourist season was definitely over.

A break in the trees beckoned me closer. I gingerly stepped to the edge of the amphitheater walls to admire the sandstone colors and formations spreading out below my toes. Clouds raced overhead hurried along by autumn winds carrying the cold of winter. The "canyon" or amphitheater of Cedar Breaks has eroded over the centuries from the same formation that has given us Bryce Canyon. They are sister canyons; Bryce faces east, Cedar Breaks faces west. Both are breathtaking. But I fear Cedar Breaks does not get the attention her more famous sister gets just a few miles away. Standing on the edge of the cliff right then, I was selfishly happy for that.

Thinking of Michael waiting for me in the car, I turned to continue along the trail the sun at my back. I knew he'd be napping, but the shadows were getting long and I didn't want to give him undue worries. As the trail turned up the hill away from the rim, I stopped to admire the autumn forest with it's browns and golds and spotted my first bit company of company on my journey - a young stag resting at the base of a tree. I said hello, he chewed. I thanked him for the photo opportunity, he watched me leave.

The pond was there at the top of the hill - a pretty little tarn filled with algae and reflections. I stopped to contemplate the color of light bouncing from the leafless trees to the pond to me. The sounds around didn't change; the wind rattled the high limbs of the trees around the pond as I left, my feet stepping on the dried undergrowth fallen across the trail. My heart jumped when my footsteps multiplied off to my right. I looked up the hill to see a pair of doe eyes staring back at me. We had startled each other. I excused myself and walked up the trail a few yards before turning around to watch as she and her fawn came out to the meadow.

Alone again on the trail, my spirits rose with the knowledge I alone saw these beauties. The last little bit of the trail passed before I was ready for it to end. I met Michael in the parking lot as the sun started to make its last dash to the horizon. Sure enough he had been napping, but that's what vacation is for. We drove to the northern overlook for sunset. Unprotected by a ridge as I had been on the trail, the wind was bitter and cold and sent me flying as the clouds back to the warmth of the car.

Fall Road Trip 2009

Four Corners, 10/2-10/9/09

There is a fabled land of strange yet beautiful landscapes. A place I visit every so often. Not nearly enough. Each image reminds me of what I love about the southwest and why I desire to return. I come from a land that is green and moist. I dream of a land that is brown and dry. The grass is always greener? For me it's either brown I desire or no grass at all.

Michael & I decided to hit a few places on this road trip that were either old favorites or something one or the both of us had never seen. Makes for a long list and an exhaustive trip, so we slimmed it down a bit and still almost tried to put too much in to our trip. We ended up cutting a few things out along the way and added a special place or two.

Read on and you'll visit four amazing states and places that mark them as extra special.

Around the Volcano

MSH Road Trip, 9/26/-9/27/09

I had been needing to collect a few images from a few of my favorite places in Washington for a project at work. This late in the season, heading to the North Cascades was out of the question - access would be limited. My next choice, Mt St Helens would be perfect for such a weekend. Although as we were heading out, what kind of weekend we weren't sure of for clouds obscured the hoped for clear autumn skies.

We rolled into Silver Lake in the late morning only to have the mountain view I was wanting hidden behind a layer of grey. Disappointed and losing faith in the weather, we quickly adjusted our plans and moved to the south side of the mountain not really expecting much. However, the farther we drove south, the clearer the skies became and when we swung around to the south side of the volcano blue skies with small wisps of clouds framed Mt St Helens. I was elated.

I wanted to stop at the Lahar Viewpoint and Ape Canyon. The trail through Ape Canyon had been closed since the 2006 floods but with diligent crews, some of them finishing up as I hiked, the trail re-opened with a bit of fanfare that same day. We later rested at Lahar Viewpoint and had lunch. Olympia & Zillah sniffing the elk tracks or begging some chips from us. We drove away from this area, happy with the images collected. Our next stops would be along the road to Windy Ridge.

I had not planned on being here in the afternoon as the sun would be in the wrong place for the best light. But I made do with what I had - grabbing a few shots here and there. Finally the sun began to set but the hoped for glorious sky would not be happening. The clouds that hovered to the west blocked much of the light show. We camped near Windy Ridge that night in hopes the sunrise would give us something better. The color may not have been the best, but the wildlife but on a concert for us. Elk just a few hundred feet away bugled and whistled. Beyond them in the valley could be heard coyotes and owls. Michael & I stood alone on the viewpoint soaking up the experience.

On our way home, we decided to drive a road neither of us had been on and found a pretty lake that the Forest Service is allowing to rehabilitate itself from the 1980 eruption. Later we passed a waterfall tucked away from the road. Its waters tumbling down the slope to a deep crystal pool. One last stop at Mt Rainier's Grove of the Patriarchs rounded out our whirlwind tour of Washington's most active volcano.

Beachy Keen

Shi Shi Beach, 9/19/09-9/20/09, 8 miles, 50 elevation

Remoteness. Very few beaches in America offer this kind of remoteness. Yet even on a beautiful summer day Shi Shi Beach can be extremely crowded. Wait until after Labor Day when the crowds lessen and the sun highlights the sea stacks with a beautiful light.

I took a group of photographers out to the south end of the beach called Point of Arches at the end of September. I wanted to be there when the sun would pass through a certain arch. I had yet to capture this magical moment, so wanted another try. I began to worry as we drove out that we may not see the sun at all. But the clouds started to break up as we hiked the short trail out to the beach. The sun warmed our faces during our beach walk - the trail drops us off at the north end of the beach and it's another 2 miles to Point of Arches. We passed a few other campsites along the way. Point of Arches was empty - perfect.

Once we set up camp, we all separated to explore the beach, sea stacks and tide pools. We shared ideas and pointed out great photo ops finally pulling ourselves away from our activity once the sun was down & we were ready for dinner. A campfire was built and we sat around sharing stories & laughter. Interspersed with our stories moments of silence as we stopped to gaze at the stars above us, jewels in the night sky. A few campfires along the beach seemed to reflect the show in the sky.

The next morning, the air gleamed fresh. We quickly ate breakfast before grabbing our cameras to take advantage of the marvelous morning light. It was a chore to tear ourselves away to break camp and get to the north end of the beach before we lost the light. We made it though and got a few more pictures before heading back home.

Friends of all Sizes

Divide Camp Trail, 8/29/09, 10 miles, 1800 elevation

My friend Anna is going through a difficult time in her life. Her second bout with Breast Cancer took both of her breasts. At this point, she is going through reconstruction - the painful part - where they have to stretch your tissue to make room for the implants. Always upbeat about life and her predicament, and yet constant pain does start to wear a person down. When she asked if she could go on a hike with me, I jumped at the chance. Nature has a way of restoring even the weariest of us.

She wanted to go somewhere new & I wanted to take her somewhere that wouldn't tax her strength or resolve too much. She was also bringing along her 4-month-old Puppy Niko. For all the energy puppies have, they do tire out so easily. I decided to give Niko some company, Zillah should come along too. As for the trail, I decided on either Killeen Creek or Divide Camp trails on Mt Adams. Anna said she had never been to Mt Adams and would love to see it. These trails give you quick access to the upper meadows without too much work. They also connect with the Pacific Crest Trail so once you get to the meadows you can wander along as far as you want to go.

Even though we had a great plan, the weather decided to make its own decisions. We both woke to pouring rain. But we are Northwest folks and a little rain rarely deters us. Good thing to - it barely sprinkled on us throughout our day and the clouds even broke up in the afternoon to shine a little warmth onto us and Adams.

This late in the season, I wasn't expecting much in the way of wildflowers. Yet lupine were still making a slight show. Indian Paintbrush and Cascade Daisies were still going strong. Monkey flowers brightened the grey rocks along streams. Even the marmots came out to admire (or eat) the pretties.

As we were on the PCT, we did meet up with at least one thru-hiker who stopped to chat with us. I neglected to get his name, but do know he's from Israel. I told him it was too bad that My Adams decided to hide today as walking along his flanks at this altitude gives you the most spectacular views. He asked about the Goat Rocks. I told him the Goat Rocks is where God goes to hike. This is when he mentioned he was from Israel and he guessed God needed a vacation too once in a while. We laughed at his joke and shared some more information then Anna & I waved good-bye and wished him luck on the rest of his journey. Anna asked after he left where he was hiking from - I told her Mexico. She asked "You can do that? That's a long way!"

We meandered south along the PCT looking at flowers, watching marmots, gazing longingly toward the cloud shrouded mountain. Zillah & Niko pranced side by side, never discerning where the whistling marmots were hiding. We stopped for lunch at the lava fields. Poor Niko was already getting tired - he plopped down and barely moved even for a treat. I figured we all could keep going but Niko was just too tired to go on. Anna & I decided this would be our turn-around point and made our way back to the parking lot.

Once there, the sun broke through the clouds. Ahh, the warmth. We chatted a bit with a gentleman waiting for his wife and her companions. He was a Forest Service retiree and told us wonderful places to go - I wish I wrote them down. We made a quick detour to Tahklahk Lake to finally see Mt Adams in his beauty - basking in the afternoon sun with the lake below. How perfect an end to our day. We agreed before heading out on the road again that next time we'd spend the night next July up with the flowers, the marmots and the views.

A Grand Hike

Grand Ridge/Grand Valley, 8/22/09, 12 miles, 2500 elevation

Starting from Obstruction Point in the Olympics can make for a long day, but the trails leading from the end of the road there are marvelous to behold. And when you link several together in a large loop, you come away with a very satisfying hike. I've been wanting to share this special place with others and my opportunity came when we began looking at hikes for the Mountaineers' Conditioning Hike Series.

I was first introduced to this area many years ago by my sister. She was intrigued with this road that our family always seemed to avoid when we were children. After our steep descent on the road, we understood. Mother was afraid of heights, and to get out to the trails the road wound along some very steep cliffs. At least they would have seemed that way to her. We found a loop on the map and decided that Badger Valley to Grand Lake and over Grand Ridge would be a wonderful way to spend the day. So we toughed out the road, toughed out the trail, and toughed out the drive. In the end we were both taken by the beauty and it became one of our favorites.

I later did sections of the trip with Michael. He too became so enamored with the area that a fifteen hour day to get there and back was never questioned. We had met one of the biggest marmots ever while hiking these trails along with exquisite flower displays. (No wonder the marmot was so huge.) But we would run into several obstacles when thinking who we could introduce this trail to - not the least of which was the difficulty of the primitive trail from Elk Mountain to Badger Valley. Finally, we decided to give the CHS class a chance. Students jumped at the opportunity.

To start off on our route, we had to traverse what is called the head-wall along a narrow path of flattened talus. We took it slow to make sure our hikers had their feet under them. But the hesitation some felt gave way to delight as we crested the ridge to views of Mt Baker, Vancouver Island and the Strait of Juan de Fuca. We would have stayed on the ridge a little longer, however autumn was felt in the wind and we again took refuge on the trail behind the ridge. Not long after we met up with a fat-butt marmot walking on our trail. He stopped to pose a while then waddled off the trail to let us pass.

The way down to Badger Meadows from here is along an almost abandoned primitive trail - no longer maintained by the park, just the few dozen hiking boots that dare follow the little dotted line on the map. This was the section that made Michael & I hesitate about bringing others with us. The way is full of loose rock and dirt, steep inclines and frightening drop-offs. Everyone seemed ready if not a little reticent, so with Michael in the rear to help anyone along and to chat with them to keep their minds off what they were walking on, we slowly started downward. It took us longer than I expected but we kept the pace slow and I would coach people down the rougher spots as Michael offered reassuring words from behind. And soon we were walking through the meadows that in July are filled with flowers and marmots. Some of our hikers were ecstatic - they would never have thought they could have hiked a trail as forgotten as that one. And yet they did - smiles were shared all around.

We stopped in a wide meadow surrounded by mountains for lunch. We ate as we gazed upward at these mighty structures. The Olympics may not be as grand as the Sierras or the Rockies, but they never seem to fail to impress. A little more downhill and we were on our way to climbing up along Grand Creek to the lake. The afternoon was moving along to the sounds of laughter as we shared stories on the lake shore. One of our members even decided a swim would be just the thing before climbing out of the valley. And a climb it was going to be.

My first hike with Kristi left us both sweaty, exhausted and defeated. So much so that we vowed to make our impression on the "mountain" as soon as we reached the top. Our impression was in the form of posing victoriously topless. We made no such vows this time except what we'd be ordering at the Mexican restaurant when we got to town. A slow and steady climb got us to the top and along the ridge to the parking lot. Along the way are views of the interior of the the park and Mt Olympus sitting grandly in the center as if holding court. I marvel at the fact that no matter how tired a woman is when she gets to the trailhead, she still has enough energy to run to the outhouse. As we drove away, the resident buck came out to watch us leave before sniffing around looking for hand-outs.

For some, this was their toughest hike yet. As I looked around the table during our late dinner and saw the smiles and listened to the laughter, I knew that these hikers were as proud of themselves as I was that first trip so long ago. The milestones and accomplishments were different for each of us and we knew we had done something good with our day.

Birthday Wishes

Camp Muir, 8/15-8/16/09, 5 miles, 4500 elevation

A few years ago on her birthday my sister jumped out of a plane. It had been a dream of hers for several years and she finally made plans for her birthday. I sat and watched her as she slowly floated through the sky, landing safely with a smile extending ear to ear, inspiring me to pursue my own birthday dream - sleeping overnight at Camp Muir. So I made my reservations for the weekend and watched with growing horror as the weather warmed, snow melted, and crevasses became exposed in the snow field below Muir. I have no experience in crevasse travel and wasn't sure I wanted my special birthday trip to be my first experience. The ranger at the climbing desk reassured us that as long as we had ice axes, crampons and the knowledge to use them then we were prepared well enough. Slight assurance, but I was with Michael & David and knew that they would not push our luck.

Michael had been suffering from an illness all summer, so had not been able to go hiking with me much. nor had he been able to train in other ways. As we climbed up through the clouds getting closer to clear skies, Michael fell further and further behind. My concern for him began to mount as I eyed our route up the mountain. I decided that I would head back if that was what he wanted. Barring eruption, Mt Rainier would be there another year.

We stopped for lunch at Pebble Creek, our halfway point in mileage. Michael broke the news to us; he would have to turn back. But he would hear nothing of Dave & I turning back with him. I looked up the mountain. How was I supposed to make it without him? The route, the fear, the experience - I needed Michael to b there to help get me through it. We traded equipment and supplies - he took anything I would not need and made sure I had the lighter equipment. With a tear in my eye, I followed Dave up the hill as Michael waved to us from the creek.

It took us 4 hours to climb the last 2 miles. Climbing on snow is not bad, rather easy compared to climbing over rocks. It was the elevation gain that slowed us down. And then we got to the ice. At first I thought we were walking on marble, but then I realized that it was ice embedded with gravel. An interesting phenomenon that kept my mind occupied as I stepped over one crack and the another. Finally I stopped as I realized I was walking over crevasses. My heart skipped a beat. I watched as Dave kept climbing. I sucked in a breathe or two . . . or three before willing my feet t continue. Geez! Once I get up there would I have the courage to go back down? The largest crevasse still lay ahead of us - several feet wide, an over-used snowbridge spanning the gulf. Was that a foot hole where someone passed through? My first response was "Oh Hell No!" But Dave coaxed me across as soon we were stumbling into Camp Muir.

We set about quickly building camp; Dave digging the tent platform and I started melting water for dinner and to refill our bottles. All the while I sat amazed - I was at Camp Muir. I made it. And look at that view! Clouds covered the valleys to the south, but eastward the mountains peaked through. The temperature dropped as quickly as the sun lowered below the horizon. We took refuge in the tent and I warmed up, but for some reason couldn't stop shivering. That and the cold would keep me up most the night. I stepped out of the tent at one point to a sky filled with stars; the Milky Way seemed close enough to touch. A few climbing parties were already making their way up the mountain - their headlamps bobbing in the darkness.

The next morning, I roamed through camp - a community of people laughing and sharing stories. There was a great sense of camaraderie and I found myself accepted as one of their own. Even as I told them that I had only come to spend the night at the camp, they welcomed me warmly and shared some of their favorite climbs.

As the morning warmed, Dave & I strapped on our crampons next to a pair of ladies also preparing to head back down. Like us, they had only spent the night in Muir. They were planning on roping up - one of the gals had fallen through the crevasse, the one with the foot hole. Even though I was nervous, I was going to trust that I would make it down the mountain safely. Sure enough, without incident we were through the crevasses, down the snowfield and walking through the alpine meadows of Paradise. Michael was waiting for us at the Visitor Center with open arms and bottles of water. As proud as I was at fulfilling my birthday wish.