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.