Outdoor Life

Artist Point Snowshoe

I first laid eyes upon Mt Baker when I was 22. I was in college and visiting British Columbia for an internship trip and we stayed in the coastal town of White Rock. The tiny, beautiful, tourist town is nestled on a bluff overlooking Boundary Bay, just across the U.S.-Canadian border. I stayed in the nicest hotel room I ever had to myself and watched stunning sunsets from the pier. Here I caught glimpses of a far off volcano shrouded in the pink and gold of August alpenglow. This place was absolute heaven compared to Houston where I was living for the summer. I closed my eyes and savored every cool water breeze. We drove daily from White Rock to the Abbotsford airport on a sleepy two lane road called Avenue 0 that parallels the border.  We stopped to look at monuments identifying the uncrossable border between two countries. I looked south to Washington, to open fields and flowers and to the white-capped Mt Baker, unknowingly looking through a window into my future.

5459972445_5e5f379c9f_b

Six years later on a cold, clear and dark February morning, my husband and I packed up the car with skis, snowshoes and the dog and commenced our first road trip to Mt Baker. The stars gave way to twilight and fog clung to the Nooksack valley as we made our way on the Mt Baker Highway. We climbed gradually along the river and finally up the steep switchbacks with hairpin turns protected from the steep drop offs by towering walls of snow on either side of us. On one of the hairpin turns I caught a glimpse of something in the rear view mirror and turned around. A huge and magnificent mountain filled the rear window. Holy crap, I said to my husband. I was introduced to Mt Shuksan.

The Mt Baker highway is a bit of a misnomer. The road goes to the Mt Baker Ski Area which is not on Baker at all but on Panarama Dome and is actually much closer to Mt Shuksan. The road was built in 1893 as a wagon road for what most roads were built for back in those days, gold mining. The road originally terminated at Maple Falls and then was later extended past Glacier and up to Heather Meadows then finally in the 1930’s extended up Austin Pass to Artist Point. There was talk of extending the road over the cascade crest to a gold mine on the east side, but a suitable pass was not found. In the winter the road is closed at the ski area making Artist Point a perfect snowshoeing destination.

I strapped on my snowshoes as my husband attached skins to his skis and the three of us made our way on the famously deep snow (this area holds the world record for recorded snowfall in one season- a whopping 95 feet in the winter of 1998-99). It wasn’t long before we crested the hill and beheld a feast for the eyes. The aptly named Artist Point is perched high on a ridge with 360 degree views of the North Cascades. To the left is Mt Shuksan and to the right is Mt Baker, seemingly within arm’s reach. Behind us, I take in the jagged guardians of the same invisible border I gazed across years ago, this time from the opposite side. As Nali and I ‘shoed down, my husband carved long smooth curves in the powder of a steep bowl high above the snow-covered Bagley Lakes. On that perfect bluebird day I decided that this was my favorite place in the Cascades and vowed to return as much as possible.

 

9780984238934Koma Kulshan: The Story of Mt Baker by John C. Miles

The story of Mt Baker is one of lore and mystery, conservation, exploitation and amazing races. The mountain was considered sacred by Native Americans and was first spotted by travelers from sailing ships in the Straight of Juan de Fuca. It lured a forty-two year old librarian named Edmund Coleman to climb it’s glaciers to the summit for the first time in 1868. By the turn of the century, the mountain felt the steps of hundreds of climbers from the Mountaineers and the Mazama climbing groups and more. The apex of this epic climbing era occurred in 1911 & 1912 as a publicity stunt: marathon races to the top of the mountain. A far more tame version of the marathon exists today with the Ski to Sea multi-sport relay race every Memorial Day weekend. This is just a small snapshot of the fascinating history of the Mt Baker area told in this book.

 

 

 

Hikes Featured in this Post:

Artist Point, North Cascades, WA

Outdoor Life

Meet Nali

Nali is our sweet dog. We got her six years ago when she was just two months old. We chose her out of the litter because she was the most shy and calm of the puppies. She didn’t jump up and try to play with us, or bite or bark at us. She had some dirt crusted onto her ear. We liked her style. When I picked her up she just melted in my arms, completely relaxed. She’s always been a pro at snuggling and likes to lay as close as possible, maximizing shared surface area or she’ll just climb on up for a full lap sit. When I’m reading on the couch she will lay her head on my knee and look up at me like hey, whatcha doin’? My favorite is when I put my face close to hers and she stretches out her neck and puts her face super close to my face and just keeps it there, looking at me sideways. Sometimes she will sniff my eyeballs. I don’t know what this means.

We don’t know much about her breed, we call her a black lab mix. People love to speculate though. I’ve spent hours discussing her possible origins with friends and strangers. Most say she’s got border collie in her because she loves herding people on the trail. One day at the dog park, while she was running like the wind, a man came up and told me with complete confidence that she was part whippet. Fair enough. I admire the ambiguity though, that you can’t just put her in a box with labels.

Like her majestic mountain namesake, Nali can be dignified and sophisticated. She likes to lay down with her long front legs stretched out and crossed like a proper lady. She likes to sleep curled up in a perfect ball with her nose in her tail. She has a soft mouth, never bites and she doesn’t stick her head out the car window like an uncivilized fool. When camping she prefers luxury. Instead of laying at our feet on a blanket we put out for her, she will sprawl out right in the middle of her humans, hogging both of our sleeping pads and sleeping bags, displacing us to the cold outer corners of the tent.

Most of the time she is anything but dignified. When she’s feeling silly she’ll lay on her back and curl into a comma, exposing her underbelly and pawing for rubs. With her head upside down, her ears uncurl and flip out resembling a bat. When she gets really excited she will put her ears back and make little pfff sneezing noises through her nose, her tail in full on destruction mode. When she is curious about something she puts her nose up in the air and her snout goes sideways like a bear.

Like most dogs she is a four-legged contradiction. She doesn’t make a peep when there are fireworks going off over her head but she’ll go totally bonkers on a mislocated garbage bin. She wouldn’t be caught dead chewing a shoe or eating food that’s left laying around, but she’s not above chowing down on some bar soap she found in the shower. She can snooze all day long on the comfy couch or in the backyard but when she’s on the summit of a beautiful, peaceful mountain she cannot relax even a little bit and will whine impatiently until we keep moving. She insists on pulling me up the mountain which is annoying (yet sometimes totally necessary). But there will be a magical moment on the way down the mountain when she will finally relax, stop pulling on the leash and fall perfectly into heel position. This moment is bliss. It’s as if she knows we are getting close to the end of the trail and if she slows down just a little bit, it will continue on forever.

Peanut Butter Nali Biscuits (basically the only thing that keeps her quiet on the trail):

2 c whole wheat flour

1 c rolled oats

1/3 c peanut butter (the low sugar and salt kind)

1 1/4 c water

Combine ingredients, roll out, and cut with cookie cutters. Bake at 350F for 20 minutes. You can get some cute dog shaped cookie cutters or just use your Christmas cookie cutters.  Your dog won’t know the difference, I promise.

Following_Atticus_CoverFollowing Atticus by Tom Ryan

This is the heartwarming story of a dog named Atticus M. Finch that inspired his owner to get out, get in shape, and conquer all forty-eight of the four thousand foot peaks in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. They completed their goal. But after a close friend died from cancer they decided to do it again. Only this time they climbed them all twice, all in one winter and while raising money for cancer. No big deal. Atticus becomes famous around town for his amazing feat, but he remains modest. He puts his head down and leads the way up the mountains through the snow and howling wind. Upon reaching the summit he sits quietly and looks out at the view earning him the nickname “Little Buddha”. Nali could certainly learn a thing or two from the little zen master. Tom continues sharing their story on his blog The Adventures of Tom & Atticus.

 

 

 

Outdoor Life

A Christmas Adventure in Alaska

My husband was a bush pilot in Alaska for a few years. He was based in the tiny Inupiat village of Unalakleet (you-na-kleet) on the Norton Sound in northern Alaska. One year he had to work over Christmas so I flew up there to spend the holidays with him. He told me stories about the place and showed me some pictures, but I didn’t really know what to expect.

I flew to Anchorage and then got on a smaller plane to Unalakleet. We flew over jagged desolate mountains that melted into smaller hills and finally flattened into the sea. We landed on a gravel runway that was longer than the town itself. Everything was so white I couldn’t tell the difference between land and sea.

I spent the next few days flying around with my husband in an even smaller plane to even smaller villages with names like Shaktoolik, Koyuk and Kaltag delivering Christmas presents and food for the upcoming celebrations. We followed the mighty Yukon River inland to the Nulato Hills where the thermometer plummeted to 40 below zero. After flying we took a snowmobile up into the hills to soak in the views. One day we bundled up and walked down to the river to watch a dog sled race. The short days were a perpetual sunrise and sunset as the sun rose around 10am, hovered along the horizon, and then set around 4pm. My eyelashes froze together as we strolled the icy seaside watching for aurora in the endless and unobstructed night sky.

During my stay we spent a lot of time with the family that conducts flight operations in Unalakleet. They are some of the most hardworking and kindest people I know. They graciously invited us to a Christmas celebration with their extended family, which was predominately made up of Inupiat people. We had all the usual luxuries of a Christmas dinner in the lower 48 with turkey and mashed potatoes, they even had a lovely little Christmas tree.

We also had some native treats. I tried muktuk, which is a small piece of whale meat and blubber. It was as terrible as it sounds. I chewed it for a bit then gave up and swallowed it whole like a pill with eyes wide, nodding, and smiling, choking out an enthusiastic yum! I also tried akutaq (ah-goo-duk), sometimes called Eskimo ice cream. It’s a blend of white fish, crisco (traditionally moose or caribou fat), vegetable oil (traditionally seal or whale oil), sugar and wild berries sort of whipped up into creamy deliciousness. This was my favorite.

I had a lovely, adventurous and magical Christmas that year in Unalakleet. But I haven’t told you the whole story. The truth is that I feel very conflicted about sharing my story of spending a lovely Christmas with Native Americans, a holiday thrust upon them by white people. I also feel compelled to report that there is so much hardship in these native villages. Climate change is making it harder for the Inupiat people to continue their subsistence harvests and the later forming ice causes erosion that is destroying some coastal towns. Contact with the outside world has brought good things like medicine, education and healthcare, but along with those things come alcohol, drugs, loss of a sense of purpose and sadly, a high suicide rate.

Around this time of year it is easy to keep ourselves in a bubble and forget about the struggles of others while we drink and be merry. This can be either a coping mechanism or ignorance, but neither makes it ok. So let’s remember that there are so many people out there struggling to make ends meet. This Christmas I challenge you, dear reader, to be kind. Give a homeless person a meal, stand up for someone being discriminated against or just say hello to a stranger. Let’s make the world a better place even if it is just for one day of the year.
ordinary_wolvesOrdinary Wolves by Seth Kanter
If you are at all interested in what life in the northern Alaskan tundra is really like then you should read this. The novel tells the story of a white boy known by his Inupiaq name Cutuk whose artist father brings the family to the Alaskan wilderness to live off the land in a sod igloo. Cutuk grows up and learns the ways of the land but never fits in with the Native American culture. He grows up and becomes curious about the outside world and when he travels to Anchorage is bewildered by modern day life. Seth weaves in realities of his own life growing up in northern Alaska with this sometimes harrowing tale of a boy reconciling two very different worlds. I picked up this book at the Anchorage airport on the way to Unalakleet and found it to be a great companion on my trip.
Outdoor Life

Setting Goals: 30 by 30

I’m not sure that I am considered a true adventurer. I haven’t hiked 2000 miles on the PCT or trekked the Himalayas. I don’t run marathons on the weekends. I don’t think I’ve ever felt completely guilt-free about downing a carrot cake flavored Clif bar like I’ve actually exerted enough energy to deserve all those calories. On nights before a hike I pack everything and put it by the door so I can roll out of bed and straight into the car. I actually look forward to the hour plus drive to the mountains as it’s extra time to wake up. Does this sound like the makings of a adventurer? What exactly does it mean to be an adventurer? Is there a list out there of places a person must visit? Is there a required number of miles hiked or peaks climbed? Or is just feeling like an adventurer good enough?

In 2012 I decided I wanted to do something special for my 30th birthday. I was lounging around on a beautiful summer day feeling guilty about not being outside (this is a common phenomenon in the Pacific Northwest) and thinking about what makes me happy. One answer was hiking, specifically climbing peaks. I had an idea. What if I climb 30 peaks by my 30th birthday? I immediately started planning. I looked at the calendar, I had a year and one month to complete my goal. I was already busy planning my wedding and honeymoon so I thought maybe I was taking on too big a task. I looked back through my hiking log (I keep a record of every hike I do in a spreadsheet, this very much satisfies my inner nerd) and I counted up the peaks I had climbed already. I had twelve, almost halfway to 30. I decided to build off the list of peaks I already climbed. That left 18 peaks to climb in a little over a year. I could do this.

Not only did I accomplish my goal, but I pushed myself to do things I had dreamed of doing but was too hesitant to initiate on my own. When a friend offered a permit to climb Mt Whitney with her. I said, um, which Mt Whitney, like the Mt Whitney? There was no way I could refuse. Then my husband suggested that we should climb Glacier Peak on my 30th birthday as the grand finale. I had never roped up for a climb before. I was pumped. This would be the perfect finale for my 30.

30 Peaks by 30:

1. Mt Pilchuck (5340′) North Cascades, WA, 8/29/07

2. Mt Si (3980′) Central Cascades, WA, 7/13/08

3. The Wedge & the Ramp (5240′) Chugach Mountains, AK, 8/3/08

4. Mt Forgotten (6005′) North Cascades, WA, 8/10/08

5. Granite Mountain (5629′) Central Cascades, WA, 9/26/09

6. Bald Mountain (4209′) North Cascades, WA, 10/3/09

7. Dog Mountain (2948′) Columbia River Gorge, WA, 5/30/10

8. Dirty Harry Peak (4650′) Central Cascades, WA, 6/13/10

9. Bandera Mountain (5200′) Central Cascades, WA, 7/10/10

10. Mt St Helens (8365′) South Cascades, WA, 8/28/11

11. Benchmark Mountain (5816′) North Cascades, WA, 9/3/11

12. Mt Defiance (5584′) Central Cascades, WA, 10/15/11

13. Mt Townsend (6280′) Olympic Mountains, WA, 7/14/12

14. Beckler Peak (5063′) North Cascades, WA, 7/21/12

15. Iron Peak (6510′) Teanaway, WA, 7/27/12

16. Rock Mountain (6852′) North Cascades, WA, 8/3/12

17. Stawamus Chief (2303′) Coast Mountains, BC, 8/23/12

18. Panorama Ridge Point (6700′) Coast Mountains, BC, 8/25/12

19. Mt Whitney (14,505′) Sierra Nevada, CA, 9/26/12

20. Hamilton Mountain (2438′) Columbia River Gorge, WA, 1/19/13

21. Mailbox Peak (4841′) Central Cascades, WA, 6/1/13

22. Mt Muller (3748′) Olympic Mountains, WA, 6/9/13

23. Navaho Peak (7162′) Teanaway, WA, 6/15/13

24. Thorp Mountain (5856′) Central Cascades, WA, 6/29/13

25. Silver Star Mountain (4380′) South Cascades, WA, 7/4/13

26. Mt Dickerman (5723′) North Cascades, WA, 7/27/13

27. Sourdough Mountain (5985′) North Cascades, WA, 7/28/13

28. Mt Ellinor (5944′) Olympic Mountains, WA, 8/3/13

29. Sauk Mountain (5537′) North Cascades, WA, 8/4/13

30. Glacier Peak (10,525′) North Cascades, WA, 8/11/13

I personally think of an adventurer as someone who sets a goal to do something they are passionate about and then pursues that goal. The goal could simply be to go for a walk around the neighborhood once a week or making a life list of wildflowers to find along the trail. It could be to bag the tallest peak in your state or to climb all the fourteeners in Colorado. It could be a mission that you will complete in one summer or in thirty years. If the quest feels like an adventure to you and you’ve gotten out of your comfort zone on your way to accomplishing it, then you are an adventurer in my book. As 2014 comes to a close, I encourage everyone to find their inner adventurer and make a goal in 2015 to get out and try something new.

 

happinessofpursuitThe Happiness of Pursuit by Chris Guillebeau

If you read this book there is a really good chance that you will soon embark on an epic quest. This is a culmination of Chris’ inspiring vignettes of visiting every country on the planet, incredible stories of amazing people on their own missions  and a how-to guide to planning and pursuing your own ultimate quest. This book inspired to make a ‘Life List’ and set new goals every year to continue to pursue a sense of accomplishment.

 

 

 

 

 

halfwaytoheavenHalfway to Heaven by Mark Obmascik

I really love this book. I read it a month before I completed my 30 by 30 and it felt like I made a friend on a similar (and much more difficult) journey. Mark is no stranger to embarking on quests, he is the author of The Big Year about his competition with other birders to spy the most bird species in a year.  He was forty-four, overweight and father of three when his son convinced him to climb a 14,000-foot peak for the first time. He struggled on the way to the top, but something about that climb launched Mark into his year long mission to summit all 54 of Colorado’s 14,000-foot mountains. Mark’s lighthearted and honest account of his quest is a fun and inspiring read. In the book he passed on a piece of advice that would become invaluable on my own journey: how do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.

 

 

Read more about my quest on Chris Guillebeau’s website:
30 Peaks Before Age 30: Ashley Gossens’ Quest

Save

Save

Outdoor Life

Going it Alone

I’m not sure why, but hiking alone is so satisfying. Maybe it’s the shedding of insecurities. I don’t have to worry if my hiking partner is comfortable, if I chose a trail too steep or too easy or not scenic enough. I don’t have to feel insecure about my slow pace and frequent stops for water and photos. Or maybe it’s the feeling of independence that is so appealing, proving to myself that I can accomplish something completely on my own.

I haven’t always felt this way. When I first started hiking I would get nervous if my husband was far enough ahead of me to be just out of sight. I was easily distracted by noises and scared of snow or slide crossings. Then one beautiful sunny day in June I decided to leave work early and go for a hike on my own. I was really itching to get out in the mountains. My husband travels a lot for work and I just decided that I didn’t want to wait for him to go on a hike anymore. So I hiked on my own to Heather Lake, a trail that I had already been on twice before and was nearby and short. I felt confident and free as I climbed the switchbacks, but as I hit the early summer lingering snow I was hesitant. There were many footsteps as this is a very popular trail so I mustered up my courage and continued in the post-holed boot tracks of others. I made it to the lake and basked in the sunshine. I thought to myself, huh, this is pretty nice. Since then I’ve hiked hundreds of miles on my own or with my dog. I find that it fills me up when I feel emptied by the monotony of daily life.

This past summer I was hiking alone on Ptarmigan ridge, a trail near Mt Baker that never completely melts out in the summer and is lauded as a little dangerous in the guide books. There were only a few cars in the parking lot and I quickly passed a few people and didn’t see anymore ahead. I was happy to have the trail to myself. Then, after crossing some lingering snow fields (now more confidently), I noticed a woman hiking ahead of me. She was small and looked a bit older, fit and strong. I caught up to her and said hello, she greeted me back with a foreign accent. I thought, wow, she must be a lone traveller on some kind of pilgrimage. I think her accent sounded a bit Scottish, she probably spends her retirement days taking strolls in the Highlands while sipping coffee and journaling about her adventures around the world. My imagination goes on to make up an amazingly elaborate backstory for this woman.

I hiked another mile or so without seeing another soul. I came to a nice resting place before the trail steepened and seemed to disappear into the volcanic flanks of Mt Baker. I stopped and got out my peanut butter and jelly sandwich and gave my dog some water. Then I saw the woman again. She passed my resting place with a wave and continued on without slowing up the mountain on a trail I couldn’t see. Oh, I guess the trail keeps going, I thought. Well, I had to keep going on then. After finishing my sandwich I continued up the seriously steep and eroded trail and across more snowfields. By this point I was quite tired, hot and a little confused by the myriad of paths on the moonlike ridge. Then the woman was walking toward me with a smile and said it was beautiful at the end of the trail. It didn’t appear that she had broken a bit of sweat. I smiled back and said thanks. She was right, it was beautiful, and I had the whole place to myself. I wouldn’t have made it all the way up there if she hadn’t gone on ahead of me.

I’ve thought a lot about that woman since then. What was she doing up there? Why was she alone? What has she seen in her life? Was she a kickass world traveller with a purpose or was she in the wilderness just to remind herself she was still alive, to feel pure earth under her feet? Perhaps she went there to reflect on the loss of a loved one or to contemplate an illness or shortcoming of her own, to escape unpleasant realities in her life? I wish I had the courage to ask her these things.

There are lots of reasons why we hike alone. I love that I can hike alone to contemplate these reasons. I love that I have the confidence to hike up any mountain without restriction and have an amazing place all to myself. But as I congratulate myself on reaching a new destination, I also take time to reflect on those who made it possible for me to be exactly in that place at exactly that time. I am so thankful for those who broke the trail before me and for the women who led me to the top.

goingaloneGoing Alone edited by Susan Fox Rogers

This compilation of stories from inspiring women is sure to motivate anyone to try a solo journey. These women climb Half Dome, sail with sharks, hike the PCT, embark on a long distance backpack in Alaska with only a dog and bike solo in France fueled by adrenaline and thrills. They share their motivations and struggles on the way to becoming true adventurers.

 

 

 

 

Read more about my solo hiking adventures on the Outdoor Women’s Alliance website:

The Case for Females Hiking Solo

 

Hikes Featured in this Post (some trails I’ve enjoyed solo):

Ptarmigan Ridge, North Cascades, WA

Heather Lake, North Cascades, WA

Maple Pass, North Cascades, WA

Skyline Divide, North Cascades, WA

Lake Ingalls, Teanaway, WA