Adventures in Wonderland: Part One, Fifth Post

The goal: get my legs, lungs and heart strong enough to carry me 93 miles of rugged, up-and-down trail with a 30-40 lb. pack on my back.

 

To be honest, I was in the worst shape of my life, but the thought of that never put a damper on my resolve to fulfill this dream. I was already packing an additional (pre-loaded and unwanted) 20 pounds, so putting a heavy pack on my back wasn't a huge priority in the beginning. I started out carrying a 15 pound Camelbak loaded with only water for my training hikes.

 

At first, my training involved one hike a week, usually to Mt. Peak (Pinnacle Peak) which is a steep 2.4 mile round trip jaunt that usually took about 30 minutes to summit. The trip out to Enumclaw, where the inactive volcanic cone is located in the midst of farm land, took me 40 minutes, one way, but the drive was worth it and usually very enjoyable, especially with the Celtic band Gaelic Storm blaring through my van's speakers (yes, I'm a single mom of five, drive a van and listen to very loud Irish music...how cool am I?)

 

Having Tuesday and Thursdays off from teaching, I made use of those days to train. My grandmother, Nana, offered to watch Cecelia anytime I needed her to and encouraged me in this quest of mine in every way possible. As school let out at the end of May, the hikes became more frequent and I would begin to drag bring the kids along with me. Oftentimes, I would be watching a friend's child or my kids would have cousins stay the night and they would join us. Emily came with me occasionally, but I was getting worried about her not joining me as frequently as necessary. When she did come, she would oftentimes bring the three boys that she nannies for and at one point we had nine children tagging along!

 Emily and my hiking buddies on a trip up to Mt. Peak.

 

At first they were all excited about the prospect of hiking as most kids would be, but as the Wonderland hike got closer and closer, to some, not all of them, it became a chore. "Load up! We're going hiking!" once followed by whoops and hollers of glee, turned to groans of, "Again?" This is telling as to how often we went because my kids are outdoor fanatics and usually jump at the opportunity to get out in the woods. However, once on the trail, they were happy hikers.

 

 

Throughout our time training we hiked everywhere from Mt. Peak to trails on Mt. Rainier. The week before we were to begin our backpacking trip, however, I knew I needed a longer and more strenuous hike to get a good idea of what a day on the Wonderland trail would be like. Up to this point, our longest hike had been a 4 mile climb to Rattlesnake Ledge. I wore my backpack and brought the boys (and a few extra kids). The view from the top was unbelievable! The climb was challenging and the weather was hot! But, still, I needed something that more closely resembled a day of hiking Mt. Rainier.

 

Mt. Si would be the perfect final hike that would give me an idea if I was ready or not. With completely loaded 40 pound backpacks Emily and I set out with Samuel, Hunter and my sister-in-law, Shawna, who was in town visiting for awhile. We got a later-than-desired start so the mid-July weather was quite warm at the onset. The distance to the top was four uphill miles.

 

Each mile literally felt like 3 miles but we never wore out or felt entirely exhausted (until the last mile down). The boys were quite the troopers. It was the perfect hike to prepare us for the big one the following week, including the black bear sighting we experienced on the way down!

 

 Sam on top of Mt. Si, looking down on North Bend.

Adventures in Wonderland: Part One, Second Post

"Focus on the journey, not the destination. Joy is found not in finishing an activity but in doing it." - Greg Anderson

I left REI with mixed feelings. There was the feeling of let-down in knowing I wouldn't get to hike the trail this year, yet I left feeling one step closer to actually hiking the Wonderland Trail just in having received knowledge of what my next step must be.

I called my sister, Emily, on my cell phone from the REI parking lot to tell her I was going to hike this trail and asked if she would like to join me. I had always envisioned myself doing this as a solo trip, but the truth is whenever I do something exciting I picture my sisters there with me. She was instantly psyched. My enthusiasm was contagious and it was the beginning of many spontaneous planning sessions.

Before long, my youngest brother, Austin, was on board and my older sister, Tina, as well. They both had some things that had to fall into place before it could happen, but they hopped right on the Wonderland planning train and hung on for awhile. We often joked that Tina would be pregnant by next summer and not be able to go, but her biggest concern was figuring out who could care for her diabetic five year-old while she was gone for ten days.

The day my guidebook arrived in the mail was the day that the adventure became truly palpable. Up until now, I knew we could, and would do it, I just had no clue what it would entail. I read the book cover to cover within a few days. Then I began to read it again. I learned amazing details about the geological features of the trail and I also learned some history of the Mountain. To me, it was like hearing childhood stories of the one you've had a serious crush on...like getting a deeper understanding of one you've only been able to gaze at with adoring eyes. 

With steps being taken to achieve my goal of hiking the Wonderland Trail underway, there was one roadblock that was partially out of my control: reservations for the back country hiking permit. It involved a process of knowing exactly where we would stay each night, writing up an itinerary of our campsites, and mailing or faxing a request, along with $20.00 that would be deducted only if you were able to get the itinerary you requested. Apparently, it wasn't easy to get reservations as back country camp sites were limited and the number of requests to hike the Wonderland Trail have been going up every year. 

The first opportunity to send or call in a request was 8 am, March 11. I worked that day so I would have a fax machine available. However, the school day began at 8 am so I would have to wait until recess, two hours later, to fax my reservation request. I remember the anticipation of that morning. This action could either solidify my plans or send me back to the drawing board.

As soon as the kids ran outside to stretch their legs and blow off some steam, I hurried next door to the church office and begged the help of our beloved secretary who is always ready to lend a hand. We faxed the request form and waited....

I don't know much about fax machines but apparently this one prints out a verification that the fax was received. We never got one. I tried again. Same thing. I tried again. I was a little, well, a LOT nervous that my fax didn't go through, but I eventually surrendered and left it in God's hands. If it was meant for me to hike this trail and accomplish a dream that has been building within me for half of my life, then it would happen. I tried calling the next day to see if my fax was received, but not only was it a recorded message, but the message warned against doing that due to the high volume of requests and the small number of rangers handling the reservations.
 
Now I was forced to wait for either a letter of confirmation or denial to come in the mail. The website said it would take at least two weeks to sort through all the requests...four weeks went by and I still hadn't heard. 

Waiting to hear.....

Adventures in Wonderland: Part One

The plan was passionately conceived in my heart in early June of 2012. I was in the local REI store looking at maps of "The" Mountain and books of "The" hike. A friendly salesperson walked up to me and struck a conversation that eventually led to a miscarriage of my summer's intended goal. I was naive about the how-to's and the know-how's of the whole process, but that conversation lit a fire that would lead to a years' worth of burning desire and preparation for the birth of a life-long dream.

The conversations went something like this:

Salesperson - "Hello, is there anything I can help you with?"
Me - "I'm looking for a map of the Wonderland Trail and a good book about the hike."
Salesperson - "Oh, when do you plan on hiking the trail?"
Me - "Probably August." (It was currently mid-June) "Do you know when the best time to hike it is?"
Salesperson - "Well, do you already have your permits and reservations?"
Me - "Huh?"
Salesperson - "Yeah, you need to reserve back country hiking permits usually no later than March."
Me - (Feeling like I didn't really like this guy because he wasn't telling me what I wanted to hear) "Well, I guess I'll buy this map and start planning for next year."
Salesperson - "Make sure you try early to get reservations, I hear they are pretty hard to get."
Me - With my stubborn nature feeling all the more dead set on making this hike happen, "Thank you, I'll let you know how it went."

So I left the store with only a map, a water-proof, tear-proof map that, in time, would take on the feel of a well-worn cloth. I went home and immediately got online to find a guidebook for the 93 mile hike. I found just the one, Hiking the Wonderland Trail: The complete guide to Mount Rainier's premier trail, by The Mountaineers Books. It too, would become well worn and comfortable like a ragged security blanket. The seed of adventure was planted, my mind was set.

An Apointment With THE Mountain

"There's a certain amount of risk in life. When it comes down to dying I want to know what it's like to have really lived." - Lou Whittaker.
 

Mount Rainier has a powerful grasp on my heart. I think about her every day...really. Just thinking about her brings peace and calm to my mind. On a clear day, when her rocky blue and snowy white presence is visible, I feel secure in knowing that she is close and I can visit when needed. On Saturday, I needed to.

It had been a month since the kids had been to their dad's and I longed for the serenity that comes along with silence and lack of obligation. Finally, I had one and a half days to do with as I saw fit. Having hiked up to Camp Muir the past two years, it was definitely on my summer bucket list of things I wanted to accomplish this year. However, life throws curve balls and it hadn't happened yet, so this was how I was going to spend the first day of fall.

Friday, after school let out, the kids got picked up by their dad. I kissed them each farewell and breathed a relaxing breath of freedom. After cleaning up my classroom, my house, and my backpack, I went to the movies with my sister, Emily, and then to Safeway to by light, packable food for the climb.

By the time I got home it was after 10 pm. I packed up and laid out my clothes for the hike and fell into bed knowing it may be difficult to wake up early enough to be at my parents at 7 am to meet my fellow hikers. I am fighting a head cold, but my stubborn temperament was determined not to let it get in the way of my plans.

My 5:30 alarm came awfully early. Struggling to get out of bed, I text Emily to bid her Good Morning (actually I text her to make sure she was still coming, I worried she would back out of our plans due to her own worsening cold). She, however, was already drinking her first cup of coffee and motivated me to get out of bed and make a cup of my own. Barely able to breathe out of my nose and ignoring the nagging beginning of a sore throat, I got dressed, drank my coffee while reading a book written by legendary mountaineer, Lou Whittaker (whom I met last week). This both energized me and filled me with excitement for the day ahead of us.

The climbers today would be Emily, Aaron (to my surprise due to his cold also), and Maura, a family friend that goes back to my infancy. Maura has inspired me more than she knows. Originally from Ireland, she is a healthy and active grandmother, and the neatest lady you'll ever meet. I never tire of hearing her talk and listening to stories of her adventures both near and abroad. She is a true inspiration.

I drove my trusty van, which has become the adventure bus. The way up to Paradise, on Mt. Rainier, we listened to Maura tell of her ghostly experiences and hiking with Sherpas in Kathmandu. The hour-long drive went by quickly but our anticipation morphed ever so slightly to hesitation as the fog became thicker and thicker the higher we drove. About half a mile from the parking lot, we could barely see the road. It hasn't rained in over sixty days, but my windshield wipers were needed. We figured we'd hike what we could, but not push it.

Much to our delight, no more than three minutes after we parked the van, the fog cleared and the sun shone through on the mountain. We all stood in awe of the beauty that surrounded us.

The shock of the colder air had us piling on layers of clothing, and soon we were loaded up and ready to go; but only five minutes into the hike we were shedding the layers like a dog in the summer sun. The first 100 yards of the 4.5 mile hike is oftentimes one of the most difficult parts. Not only did our lungs have to get used to thinner air, but the paved trail that leads to the rocky trail further up is just so darn steep we were all panting like we had just ran a marathon!!

Before long our bodies adjusted to the altitude enough so that our hearts calmed down and our breathing slowed. Each one of us hiked to his/her own pace. Nobody minded that although we came together, it was as though we were on a solo hike. Every now and then we'd regroup and see how everyone was doing. About half-way up to Camp Muir at Pebble Creek right before the rocky climb turned to a snowy/slushy walk straight uphill, Maura decided she had gone as far as her body would allow. She was smart to know and respect her limits.

The rest of us chugged along. We had reached the Muir Snowfield and, being late in the season, all of the clean white and packed snow was melted and what remained was slushy, dirty, and wet snow that gave way to large and small crevasses here and there. All around we could see water running in little rivulets that will eventually form crevasses if the snow doesn't start falling. When we reached the point where we could hear water flowing directly below the ice under our feet, Emily decided she didn't want to go any further. That, and having forgotten her asthma inhaler, she was feeling the effects of high altitude more than Aaron and myself were. She insisted we continue and decided to rest on the warm rocks and wait for us to return.

By this point the landscape around us was other-worldly. It looked more like something you'd imagine on the moon than anything you'd normally come in contact with on Earth. The trees were gone, all you could see was ice, craggy rock walls and snow. The mountain grade was so steep that you could not see further than the white ridge above us; and beyond that ridge awaited.....another ridge. I remember thinking to myself. "Ok, I know I'm out of shape...but I don't remember it being this far!"  When one gets up that far on the mountain, their strides become incredibly short and the pace slows way down. A technique call "rest steps" is used, and that is basically focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. It didn't help that with the snow so slushy, many steps forward slid backward half a step. We were moving in slow motion.

As slow as I felt we were going, we kept pace with a crew that was climbing to the summit of Rainier. The nine person team left minutes before us and we actually beat them up by a few minutes, so I guess, we went at an average pace. The distance between Aaron and I increased as my legs seemed to acquire a hundred pounds each. Once I reached the dirt that surrounds the actual camp. I was so tired I could barely lift one foot in front of the other. I had to call on every last ounce of energy I had to climb the stairs to the top where I collapsed on the warm rocks and laid down. My body was spent. Nothing was clear to me and I couldn't focus on anything. Lying down I could have fallen asleep right there amidst the other climbers, but I knew, if I did, I could possibly be there for quite some time. I tried to sit up to feed and water myself and as I did, I could hear Aaron snoring nearby. I woke him up and we sat in silence for awhile...too tired to speak. The thought of standing up and making it the whole way down was more than I could dare think about. After awhile, however, we knew we should be leaving and our energy slowly returned.

Less than in years past, but in several spots, the snow was cooperative enough to make great glissading chutes. We simply sit down, shove off and away we'd go!!!!

 

What took us about six hours to go up, took only about two hours to descend. We reached Paradise by 6:45 pm....exhausted beyond words. My legs felt like rubber, like at any moment they would buckle from my own weight. My clothes were damp, my toes were wet and my fingers were numb, but I never felt better. The process of climbing Camp Muir when you are out of shape and fighting a sinus infection isn't exactly what I'd call fun, but the feeling of accomplishment is so worth it.

The day was a delight to my senses....well most of them. My sense of smell was a little disapointed. There is some wild weed that grows in the mountain that gives off a disagreeable scent. It is reminiscent to the smell of stale laundry....when you've forgotten to take the wet clothes out of the washer and they end up sitting in there a couple days (come on now, I know I'm not the only one who has done this....right?). Yes, I didn't take pleasure to the mountain smells. However, after you get above a certain altitude, there are no smells...and your other senses take over. The sound of rocks or ice falling on the other side of steep ridges, the water bubbling under the snow, the cool alpine breeze on my face as I reach the top of a new ridge, the sight of the summit...so close; all these things added to the enjoyment of the day. Above all, knowing I pushed myself to my limit, and that now, my limit has expanded....

I plan on climbing Mt. Rainier, my only hesitation is my children. When I told Isabelle I plan to climb the mountain, she burst into tears, fearing I would never return. Many people have attempted it and never returned, and yet, many more have climbed it many times. How easy it is to risk your life when you have only yours to look out for, but my children came to mind many times the day I climbed to Camp Muir. There are many risks I would have taken if their little faces hadn't entered into the forefront of my conscience mind. My life holds more value now than it did in my past so I plan on exploring my mountain with caution.

There will be a time to ascend it's icy ridges and look out at the world from its crystal clear heights, but for now, the only mountain I will be climbing is the mountain of laundry that threatens to turn stale if I don't attend to it soon.

Happy Fall Everybody,

love,

Gina.

P.S. I had to add the picture of the kids and I with Lou Whittaker taken the week before at the Rainier Mountain Fest. He was an amazing climber and is the nicest guy. I asked him if he does any climbling anymore and he responded, "Til the day I die....in and out of bed!"

Times Speeds Up as We Slow Down

We left an hour later than planned, which was just about right. The kids were well fed as I locked the door to the house without that nagging feeling that I was forgetting something important. We needed to make one stop for gas, ice and propane. This turned into three stops....for gas, ice and propane; each place I stopped at had one but not the others. Finally we were on our way. The morning sun was shining gloriously bright and it gave me an energy that pushed me on in spite of my kids never failing desire to bicker in the car. If there is anyone out there with two or more kids that has discovered the key to preventing siblings from fighting in the car, I would love to know your secret!


The two hour drive to Packwood, a small town just south of Mt. Rainier in the Gifford Pinchot National Forest, was pleasant (after the initial war of words between my children). We drove through the logging town of Morton, into the tiny town of Randle where we stopped for a snack and potty break; our destination was just 20 minutes away but sometimes these things just cannot wait. \


After being jolted relentlessly by the potholes that marred the gravel forest roads, we arrived to our campsite to find a roaring fire, several tents and Mike and Tina's trailer already set up. Tina had yet to arrive with two of their girls, but Mike and their other five children, and my brother, sister-in-law and their two boys had been camping since the evening prior.


We pulled in, opened the van doors and like magic....my children disappeared! I wish I could say that my ten and eight-year-old spent some time helping me unpack and set up camp...but that wasn't the case, they literally disappeared into the woods with their cousins. This, in a way, was a bigger help to me than anything else. I was able to take my time setting up without running over one of them or beckoning to their every whim.


Once we had the tent up, and the kitchen area arranged to my liking....the kids were asking to eat. It was to be the first time I got to use our new Browning two burner range. It was, however, Friday and, as Catholics, we had to forgo meat. As easily, easier actually, than if I had been at home, I folded shredded Mexican blend cheese into a tortilla to make quesadillas and fried it over the griddle....times fifteen. It was a perfect lunch that was gobbled down by overly hungry campers. Then I got to do what I had been longing to do for a long time.....I sat.


I sat around the fire, closed my eyes, and relaxed. Then I became more active...I read a little, and observed the activity of those around me. The forest around us watched the kids, as well as the bugs that entertained them and the six inch deep creek nearby that they wanted so desperately to play in, but found the glacial water to be too painfully numbing.


For supper we enjoyed foil packets of shrimp, salmon, calamari, and scallops cooked with fresh zucchini over the fire. I've said it before....I generally eat better when living in the woods than at my own home! That evening, all the kids entertained us with skits, poems, jokes and songs that they had practiced at home or put together in a matter of minutes. My favorite skit was put on by the boys and went as follows:

Donovan to Samuel: "That's a nice shirt, where'd you get it?"
Samuel: "J.C. Penny"
Donovan to Thomas: "Those are nice shoes, where'd you get em?"
Thomas: "J.C. Penny"
Donovan to Hunter: "Those are nice pants, where'd you get em?"
Hunter: "J.C. Penny"
Donovan to Ben (who comes out from behind a tree wearing nothing but his boxers); "Who are you?!!"
Ben: "J.C. PENNY!!"

Yeah, that had us laughing. The sky was still clear as the fire blazed hot. Voices faded as we got lost in our own thoughts...everyone waiting for the first person to claim they were going to bed, so they wouldn't have to be first. We have a big two room tent that could easily fit the six of us,  but Hunter and Ben were excited to stay the night with their big cousin, Donovan....that was until Aunt Tina scared Ben with a scary story about a ghostly voice searching for her golden arm, then he decided he would stay near me. With the girls sound asleep, the boys and I wearily wandered off to the tent. We fell quickly asleep.


Saturday morning we cooked omelets in a Zip-Loc bag submerged in boiling water. A table was set up with cooked bacon pieces, diced ham, sausage crumbles, mushroom, chopped bell peppers, onions, chives, parsley, cilantro, spices and eggs. Each person dictated what they wanted in theirs, squished it around in a baggie with their name on it, and gave to the person manning the pot of boiling water. No dishes, easy clean-up!


We were to be joined that day by my Uncle Tony and Aunt Kim. Tina volunteered to stay at camp with the youngest kids, so from Benjamin on up, the rest of us left to hike to Lake Packwood. It was four-and-a-half miles one way. The trail led us through a moss-covered forest with peek-a-boo views of snow covered mountains. Water leaked here and there from the rocky walls allowing us to cool off every now and then with a cold "shower". The older kids left us in the dust saying they wanted to catch up to Uncle Tony and his party, so seven year olds, Benjamin and Keira, were accompanied by my brother-in-law, Mike, and I.


The trail was cut out of a relatively steep forested mountainside. To the right the mountain was an acute 45 degrees up, and to the left was the opposite angle plunging steeply downhill. Everywhere we hiked we could here the sound of distant rushing water, whether it was an up-and-coming waterfall, or the river down below. The woods were bedecked with pink trillium and white daisies. Giant fallen Douglas fir hinted to us that the forest isn't always as peaceful as it was that day. The temperature was warmer than we had expected, and dressed for cooler weather, we always welcomed the gentle but inconsistent breeze that surprised us when we'd least expected it.


I might add here that Benjamin did not stop talking the entire four and a half miles to the lake. I tried to get him to listen to the sounds of nature that one can only hear when one is silent....but he preferred the sound of his own voice. At some point he found a thin tree branch that curved around like a fishing pole while reeling in the catch of the day....he named it Stringy. Stringy the stick, became his best friend that day. He talked to it....it talked back. For awhile, I wondered if he even remembered I was there. I do believe, however, that it was Stringy's companionship...that got him through the nine miles we hiked that day. After all, since his legs are half the length of mine, I decided him walking nine miles was the equivalent to me walking eighteen miles. What a champ!!


Lake Packwood was a hidden gem! As we approached, the emerald green of its waters showed through the evergreens that still blocked our view. While at the edge of the lake, wonder at God's creation filled me with awe. The large lake was nestled amidst the trees and its clear waters sparkled in the sun. A small island beckoned from the middle of the lake but was only accessible by the birds who were lucky to claim it as home. Large fallen trees became part of the landscape at the edge of the lake and we walked out on them to soak our tired feet in the icy water. It was silent. Still. Beautiful.


After we'd eaten the lunches we'd packed, and rested sufficiently, it was decided to take the forest road that was supposedly shorter and flatter, but still returned to the same location we started. The flatter aspect was questionable right from the start as we were panting out of breath within the first 100 yards from the continuous steepness of the rocky road. But, after awhile, it did straighten out. Then the 'shorter' aspect was questioned as we seemed to be walking forever. Uncle Tony, Ben and I fell behind the pack on account of Ben's short legs. His voice eventually trailed off and his once non-stop
chattering gave way to worried silence. He still carried Stringy, but neither of them were talking now. The views we encountered were well worth the long hike. Glimpses of the mountain in the background were accompanied by the feathery look of endless evergreens stretching for miles and miles below us. Among the trees snaked the curving Cowlitz River.


The only words Ben spoke were, "Stringy is tired, he wants to sit down." I urged him on by telling him to imagine that he'd just walked across the country like Peter Jenkins and all he had left to reach his destination were these last two miles. I told him to imagine that the rest of the group were waiting there to cheer him to the end. I think this imagery might have helped me more than it did him.


We made it though, and the group was waiting to cheer Ben on. It was a great moment. I told him he walked farther than I ever had at his age and his face lit up with confidence.


The rest of the evening we relaxed. I made a pot of jambalaya and Tina cooked hobo stew in tin foil over the fire. She also made candy bar cake in honor of Father's Day. A wave of sadness rushed over me seeing the kids wishing their uncles Happy Father's Day instead of their own dad. With resignation he let me take them camping because he knew it wasn't intentional, me having them on Father's Day. But the fact that life for my children isn't ideal made me retire that evening with a heavy heart.


Before we knew it, we were packing up to head home, then we were home. How can it be that when we participate in an activity such as camping, when we are living simply, slowing down to enjoy the people we love in the places we love, that the time seems to speed up? The weekend flew by, and now we are back to the routine that is our life.


I was asked the other day when describing how much fun the kids had while camping, "And what do you get out of all this?" I get to pause. I get to sit. I get to be in surroundings that take my breath away. I was amazed when my sister and I were sitting around the fire and my nephew came up and out of boredom asked, "Aren't we going to do something?" Our response, "We are doing something!" That's what I love about camping, we get to be doing something, while doing nothing....no excuses necessary.


Happy Days to all,


love,




Gina.



top left: Rosie and Cece putting on their own 'skit'. Top Right and down: Cousins, Keira, Rosie and Cecelia at camp, The boys putting on a skit for the parents, Everyone bows and curtsies, Isabelle and Cecelia at bedtime. Bottom Left: Cecelia at camp, Bottom middle: Isabelle singing a song for entertainment.




Top Left: Ben and Stringy; Top Right and Down: Refreshing myself under mountain spring water, Ben cooling off, Ben and I (and Stringy) at Packwood Lake; Bottom Left: Ben and I on way back from the lake, Bottom Middle: Ben and Uncle Tony (and Stringy)




View of the Cowlitz River from the Packwood Lake trail.



Memorial Day Adventures

If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.....

I looked forward to Memorial Day weekend with a different kind of sweet anticipation this year. At least since the kids and I have moved back to Washington in 2008 we have camped with my sister and brother-in-law, Tina and Mike, their kids and occasionally several other siblings...families included. It was always the much awaited first camping trip of the year, and we would go....rain and all. This year, the weather was beautiful, but my children were with their father and my niece was making her first Holy Communion which took precedence over camping.

So, I planned a weekend of adventures that I intended on embarking upon whether alone or joined by family or friends. The Friday before Memorial Day was the last day of school. The kids left after their program to spend a few days with their dad and his mom, their grandmother. So my first grand adventure took place that night at home. I went to bed at 9 o'clock with a smile on my face, for I knew from this day forth, until school begins in September, I could sleep in if I wanted too!!! To a mother, that is pure joy!

However, Saturday morning I rose with the sun. I planned on hiking to the ghost town, Lester, WA with Emily and a long-time friend Valerie. My backpack was loaded with all I needed for a day of hiking: food, water, sunscreen, and camera (Cub scouts say there are 10 essentials, but those are all I needed for the day. :)

We met at my house and loaded up on gas before heading past Greenwater, WA and north of Mount Rainier. I thought I would stop at a Forest Service information station to get information on the roads and exact directions (Lord knows I have made the mistake NOT to do that before).  When we got there I bought a Forest Pass. I already had the Discover Pass required for state parks but the Forest Pass is required for parking on any Forest Service operated land, yet this does not include the National Park pass required for entry into Mt. Rainier.....whatever happened to "This land is your land, this land is mine"?

Pass in hand I was ready to get a map and directions and get on the road. What?!!! The ranger informed us that there was no way we could access the road to Lester due to the snow. Well, that was alright, I had a plan B...that too, we were told had low snow levels. We were told that we could drive as far as 2 miles within the trail head to Suntop and hike the rest of the way. That sounded alright with us...we planned to hike all day anyway. As we climbed back in the van only a little discouraged, Emily and I (OK, probably mostly me) decided that the forest ranger probably hadn't been up in that area for awhile and didn't really know what the roads were like. Surely the snow was melted enough by now. We'd give it a try.

We approached the gravel forest service road and everything appeared fine. The sun was high and twinkled in and out of the tall trees that were almost like a moving canopy above our heads. Campers were hidden within the firs and cedars and the smell of campfire arose a longing in our hearts to be in their midst. The road wound up and up, like a giant snake. We chased a deer around one corner and rabbits ran for the safety of the woods around another. As we saw two mile marker we felt confident that we were getting close; but whatever excitement each of us harbored gave way to hesitation when we rounded a bend and saw the road completely covered with the icy white stuff.

I parked the van and all of us figured we'd start the hike from here. As we were gathering our stuff, a few bikers, muddied from waste down passed us and said they had to turn around because it was too deep. Well, WE were walking....that would be different, so we thought. We hiked up the steep road a little ways but the snow got deeper and deeper. I swallowed my pride and admitted the ranger knew what she was talking about. Disappointed, but not disheartened, we decided to figure out a Plan C.

Starting off! Full of anticipation.

Plan C involved driving until we saw somewhere that looked interesting. We found ourselves by the entrance to the Tacoma Watershed, but we were met with another dead-end as the gate was closed. But then we saw "The Bridge". There is just something irritable about a bridge to me, especially when it has a beautiful river rushing underneath it and mountain scenery that spreads as far as the eye can see. A short debate delayed our adventure over whether or not we should walk the bridge in spite of the warning signs. We were a good mix of opinions, the three of us. There was me on one end of the spectrum urging us to go, my sister on the other with cautious reservation, and Valerie just ready to go along with whatever decision was made. We went.

 The river was absolutely hypnotizing! We rested for awhile under the bridge and marveled at how the gigantic rock in the water got there, and each of us lost in our own thought welcomed the sun as it warmed our skin.

The day was still young-ish and we weren't entirely done with nature. After exploring the bridge location to our hearts content we headed back into the town of Enumclaw, the van was quiet and I let the moment lead us to our next destination. So far I called all the shots, and that lead to three dead-ends (but some awesome views and a little excitement); I was more than ready for someone else to lead the way.

Emily suggested we head to the Carbon River area where the Rainier to Ruston race was to take place the following weekend. The race begins at the foothills of Mt. Rainier and ends by the Tacoma waterfront. It was a fun race that Emily, Tina and I took part in two years in a row, but were not going to be in this year. It was a great idea. We ended the day enjoying the varying shades of green in the old growth forests that paralleled the Carbon River.

The day was a good lesson in being present in the moment. It was a time to turn off the cell phones, turn up the music in the van and just BE. Our plans didn't turn out as we expected but the day was a total enjoyment. One day, though, the snow will be melted and we will try it again. You can't hide from us Lester! We will be back!!!

Sunny days to all,

Gina.

 (my camera, an old DSLR, just wasn't made for self portraits ;)





PS. If anyone reading this has any tips on arranging photos, I could use the help. They look fine when I am writing the post, but then when I go to publish it....they look all scattered!

Summer Bucket List

"A desire presupposes the possibility of action to achieve it; action presupposes a goal which is worth achieving." Ayn Rand

 I am bursting to the seams with excitement for this summer! I feel like I did when I was a kid and the hope of an exciting summer loomed on the near horizon. I am so ridiculously full of anticipation that I made a summer Bucket List for myself and my family. I must shamefully admit here that this is one perk to being a single mom: everyone runs on MY schedule.  I am sharing this list to help me keep track of my plans and goals.

O The Places We'll Go:

• Lester - This is a legit ghost town located off a secluded Forest Service road on the Green River, south of Snoqualmie Pass. It is only accessible by foot and the only other time I was here we saw a cougar...yes, a real live mountain lion! What did we do? What any sensible, non-destructible human being would do...we followed it. That was before kids... I think I will hike this one sans children.... and with a gun toting fella.
• Orcas Island - If I see an orca whale this summer, I would say it was an accomplished year. This will be a trip with the kiddos. I plan on taking the ferry from Anacortes and climbing to the top of Mt.Constitution.
• Table Mountain Lookout - This is a fire lookout located in the remote Okanogan Forest. The lookout has a large deck perfect for stargazing. I've already booked two nights here in August and can't wait!
• Hurricane Ridge, Olympic National Park - I haven't been here since I was a kid. What I remember about that trip is a scary steep road and 360 degree views of the jagged Olympic peaks. I look forward to experiencing this trip as an adult with kids, and camera on hand.
• Camp Muir - This hike has become a summer tradition and it looks like this year my sister, Emily, and I will have more company...including our priest Father Anaya.
• Carbon Glacier - I have the fondest memories of hiking to this glacier as a teenager. One that sticks out the most is when I was running down a trail holding Emily's hand (she must have been about 3 years old at the time) and the opportunity to literally save her life presented itself. Since I was an irresponsible 13 year old she was on the down slope slide of a steep path. In a split second her feet slipped off the side of the trail and had I not been holding her hand she would have fell a few hundred feet down to the rushing waters of Ipsut Creek. Of course, had I not been running, or had her on that side, she may have never been in peril in the first place. Anyway, I believe to this day all she remembers is me...saving her life ;)

I think that will be enough to pack our summer days with adventure. I didn't mention the camping trips with the cousins, there will be plenty of those too. Now, as far as goals I'd like to accomplish that don't require a few hours of packing and food preparation:

• I want to brush up on my mad guitar skills and learn to play two of my favorite songs; The Gambler and Will the Circle Be Unbroken.
• The Warrior Dash - a 3 mile race through mud and even muddier obstacles.
• Run the 4US 5K - to help raise money for Pro-Life causes (getting back into shape starts now!).
• Sign Samuel up for 12 Parkour sessions. Soon baseball and cub scouts will be done for the summer and I will finally have time to dedicate an evening a week for him to put his wall climbing skills to good use.

So there we have it. I am calling this summer Rediscovering Washington. It looks like a lot, but I believe it will be do-able because, as Helen Keller stated, "Life is either a daring adventure or nothing."

Adventurous days to all!

Gina.

http://www.fs.fed.us/r6/recreation/rentals/ow-table-mt-a-frame.shtml
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lester,_Washington

Here is my goal destination this year...near bottom left; Camp Muir. To go any further would require a climber's permit.

This must be that road I remember from a family trip long ago. (Picture courtesy of info@olympicsuitesinn.com)

At Ipsut Creek

View of San Juan Islands from Mt. Constitution. (Picture courtesy of KevinMallick via Flickr)

Spring Has Sprung in our Great Big Backyard!

"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves." ~John Muir 

In my opinion, the sun in the Pacific Northwest is shinier, brighter and more glorious than anywhere else in the country. When I lived in the Sierra Nevada region sunny days were bountiful, beautiful and hot. Did I say bountiful? Living there made me appreciate rain. I can remember days where the sun actually annoyed me. Is that possible? Was I ungrateful? Maybe that is the key to why the sun, when enjoyed in Washington state, just seems so....heavenly; people here never lose appreciation for it.

The month of April, while bringing it's signature showers, was also generous with it's beautiful sunny days that foretold of a coming summer. I have been able to get out and enjoy the woods of Washington on several occasions already. As I've said before, I consider the natural world around me; the state parks, forests, national parks, rivers, lakes and mountains, our backyard.

After many failed plans to go hiking with one of my oldest friends, Valerie, we finally made it happen. Up early one morning, when the kids happened to be at their dad's, we both had the first half of the day to drink in a healthy dose of nature's vitamin D. The challenge was in finding somewhere nearby. As it turned out, it wasn't much of a challenge. To my pleasant surprise, there are many places within 20 minutes of home that I had never explored before.

We headed south to the capital city, Olympia. First we took the mild but beautiful trail near Tumwater Falls. We walked only a short ways and realized, due to construction, half the trail was closed. Still not in the mood to return home, we headed back north and pulled off I-5 toward Tolmie State Park. Both photography enthusiasts, Valerie and I had a heyday with the mossy green forest, and the sparkling blue bay. I enjoyed this place so much that I returned the next day with my sister, Emily, and best friend, Aaron. On the way home we stopped for coffee and wrote down our goals for this summer. It is the outcome of this spontaneous meeting that will be the topic of my next post.

Two weeks after my first Spring venture into the great backyard, we were blessed with another dose of sunny weather. In fact, it was so warm, I decided we would head up to Mt. Rainier for National Park Week with the added bonus that during this week none of the usual fees applied for park entry.  The kids and I, and, of course, my little sis, Emily, changed our clothes after church, packed a lunch and headed on the road to 'The Mountain'. We decided to enter by way of the north side...but apparently I haven't learned my lesson in researching before a trip...because that entrance was closed til summer.  So we made our way back down and ended up at Buck Creek Campground at the base of the mountain.

This place had it all. Secluded sites to park and picnic, trails through mossy green forests, an icy rushing river for us the kids to play in, and breathtaking views. We spent the entire day here, just soaking in the beauty that surrounded us. As Emily stated, "There's nothing like a mountain to make you feel small." This is a great feeling to me. I love to feel small and insignificant. I know that seems to go against the grain of modern thinking, but it is a feeling that tends to make all of life's stresses melt away. For how can the things in that our lives that seem such a BIG DEAL really be so, when we are so small?

Sunny days to all,

Gina