Outdoor Life

A Lookout, Rocks, and Pumpkins

These are a few of my favorite things…

What is not my favorite thing? Being in the car with my almost two-year-old for any extended amount of time. But the crying, the screaming, the throwing things (mostly her, maybe a little bit me), was all worth it in the end. I was excited about this one. A super short little trail zigs up a for hot minute to Red Top Lookout and some spectacular Teanaway scenery. I had high hopes that Evie might even walk herself all the way to the top. She didn’t, but she walked about halfway up the steep trail and I was super proud when she said “backpack, backpack” for the first time, as in, “put me in the backpack and give me a snack now before I have a meltdown.” We put her in the pack, gave her a snack, and she was happy.

First built in 1952, Red Top lookout stands watch at roughly 5400 feet. It was restored in 1997 and is kept up by wonderful volunteers, making it one of the best kept lookouts I’ve been to. Some volunteers were there for the weekend and opened it up for us to peek inside. The two young men, swimming in their green Forest Service vests, described themselves as “lookout junkies.” A fuzzy blond dog was curled up on the cot as we swapped lookout stories.

After taking in the views of Mount Stuart, Rainier, and evens Adams, we continued on to go rock hunting. I thought this was the appropriate description until we reached the agate beds complete with a sign board listing rules and tips. It is actually called “rock hounding” according to the board. I was so excited, especially now that I knew what it actually called! I already felt like a pro. The instructions asked rock hounds to refill any digging holes and recommended using the “15 minute rule” to prevent harvesting too many rocks to carry back with you. It suggests holding the rock in your hand for 15 minutes and then looking at it again. If you love it, keep it. If you’re not sure carry it another 15 minutes. It then reads, “by this point, you should be pretty sure this is a rock you want to keep. If not, toss it back.” I love this rule.

Some folks passed us carrying shovels, grates, and hammers. “Going rock hunting?” I asked. Rookie mistake, surely true rock hounds don’t call it “rock hunting.” They entertained my question with a vague answer and I mentioned we were looking ourselves, we just don’t know what we’re looking for. My husband and I exchanged a glance with an awkward chuckle, hoping they would offer us a little advice. They didn’t. We made note of their gear to bring next time.

We picked around in the rocks looking for anything unusual or shiny. We were banking on beginners luck and Evie is really good at picking rocks. She picked them up and shoved them in my face saying, “ock, ock” until I looked at her and gave her my full attention, saying, “oh yes, that’s a nice rock.” Then she would point to more rocks and say, “nice ock.” Unfortunately, she didn’t find anything unusual or shiny.

We found a big hole that was already dug and decided that the mother load was once found there. We sat down and settled in, Evie between my legs babbling and picking away. We dug for awhile and were getting ready to move along when my husband found something interesting. I remembered reading something in the guide book about rare Ellensburg blue agate and thunder eggs being found here. We remembered that the sign board gave a hint: crystals are shiny and agates are translucent. This little nugget was blue and translucent. NO WAY! I yelled and then promptly dug in the same spot for more. We found a few more translucent white agates. They were tiny and mottled in muddy clay. I had to spit on them to see any color, but I was over the moon. We found something, maybe even some rare blue agate! We were officially rock hounds!

I could have stayed there looking all day and I think Evie could have too. But the blue skies had been slowly clouding up, the wind cooling with a fall crisp. We headed back to the car with our loot, just a pocket full or two of rocks. Later that night at home, I rinsed the rocks in the kitchen sink. The smell of earth released from the rocks overwhelmed my senses, I felt like I could taste it. Then in the shower, the same smell came from my hands. I breathed it in, the mountain colliding with my home, everything connected. I felt whole.

We took the long way home from Red Top. As Evie slept, we took a side road to explore the old ghost town of Liberty. We drove through the farm fields and small towns of the Cascade foothills. We found a pumpkin patch just after Evie woke from her nap.

We let Evie roam free in the pumpkin field as we each chose our favorites. My husband chose a large one, perfect for a classic moonshine face, I chose a smaller pastel orange one reminiscent of Cinderella’s carriage and we chose a little green one for Evie, one she pointed at a few times and we took as a the chosen one. However, we soon realized that she pointed at ALL of the pumpkins.

It wasn’t a perfect day. I’m fully convinced that any day with a toddler could never be bestowed with such a word. But it was a great day and an undeniably fall one. The very best kind: one full of my favorite things and my favorite people.

 

Outdoor Life

Hidden Lake Lookout

For my birthday weekend my husband and I packed up Evie and doggie Nali to go camping at Marble Creek Campground. We planned it so that I could go for a solo hike on my birthday to get to my goal of 50 peaks. I decided on Hidden Lake Peak as the grand finale. It’s arguably one of the most beautiful trails in the Cascades and I wanted something challenging. And for an added bonus, there’s a lookout at the top.

We snagged a river-front spot and set up camp. Evie helped me set up the tent (she did actually mostly help!) and we lazed around eating snacks. We brought an Evie-sized chair, but she mostly just wanted to sit it one of our grown-up chairs, sitting up and very proud of herself. One of her favorite things to say these days is “sit down.” We had a bit of a panic moment when we couldn’t find her binky. We only brought one and we knew that getting to sleep was going to be an issue if we didn’t find it asap. We searched for like two hours, scouring the cars and campsite but couldn’t find it. We decided it was just going to have to be the day she gives up the binky cold turkey.

We went for a walk and found a path leading down to Marble Creek. There were gorgeous sandy beaches and the water was cold and turquoise. We sat on the shore and threw rocks for Nali to chase in the water. We had to keep Evie from walking straight into the water. That girl has no fear. We played in the sand and collected rocks until it was dinner time and headed back to camp for a dinner of burgers.

I was very nervous about the missing binky as bedtime approched, but it turned out fine. Evie fussed and cried but eventually fell asleep and I was actually happy that it happened this way. It is much harder to resist giving into her when I have a choice, but this time I had nothing to give her. As I’m writing this, it’s been four days and last night was the first time since that fateful day that she went right to sleep without a peep. Yay! My husband and I distracted ourselves from her cries with a game. We’ve had Bananagrams for years and finally decided to get it out and try it. It’s basically a speed version of scrabble and got hooked.

The next morning my husband made breakfast and I geared up for the day’s climb to Hidden Lake Peak. I lingered for a while before convincing myself that it was time to go off on my own. I said my goodbyes and headed to the trailhead, just a few miles down the road. I noticed that the sky was white and wondered if it was fog or smoke from forest fires. As I started out on the trail, it was clear that it was smoke. The smoke affects the sunlight differently than fog. It filters the sunlight, where fog tends to fully block it. The sun appeared as an eerie orange orb and a fiery orange glow lit up the forest.

After a short and steep climb through the forest I popped out into an open meadow. Now the severity of the smoky haze was apparent. I could hardly see across to the peaks above the valley and looking down was a complete white-out. It was even worse than I thought. The flowers in the meadow made up for the lack of views and the filtered sun made for nice photos, but I was really hoping the smoke would go away.

The trail climbs, sometimes quite steeply, through an open avalanche chute covered in flowers. It was a spectacular display, one of the best I’ve seen in the Cascades. I stopped to catch my breath and took way too many photos. There were lots of small water crossings and I plunged a bandana in the cool water to wrap around the back of my neck. It helped. Eventually, I was above the gulley and the trail mellowed a bit through high alpine heather and granite. Although there were plenty of people on the trail, it was quiet. So quiet. I didn’t hear even a single bird call or pika squeak. With the lack of wildflowers up high, the white of the sky and the white and brown of the granite and trail, it felt like sensory deprivation.

But I continued on and soon the lookout was in view. The descriptions of the trail warned me that it would seem like there is no possible way to get up to the lookout. I already knew this yet I still gaped up at the mountain and wondered how the heck I was going to get up there. It seemed impossible. I was tired and the smoke was giving me a headache. I couldn’t see any of the spectacular views that were supposed to be had and now the trail was getting hard to follow. I emerged on a saddle above Hidden Lake and looked at it with disgust. I could barely make out the outline of the lake and the jagged peaks that surround it, my beloved North Cascade peaks, were obscured by thick smoke.

I thought of turning back, but then I reasoned that getting up to the lookout would brighten my spirits. I followed cairns that led me back and forth between a steep exposed trail and a scrambling route. I did my best to not look down and just go up. I saw that the lookout was much closer now but I still wondered how the heck I was going to get up there. It is vicariously perched on a pile of boulders. They didn’t bother to put a catwalk or even an entryway for that matter on the thing, due to the shear drop-offs on all sides. And when I reached the door it was closed. I could hear people inside, but didn’t want to bother them. I shuffled back down the rocks to the saddle, waited for my nerves to calm and then ate some food.

Instead of appreciating my alone time and reflecting on my 35 years and whatever, I really just wanted to get down the mountain. I was sad that I was expecting an epic hike and didn’t get it. I was sad about the smoky air and that the whole state (and British Columbia for that matter) seems to be on fire. This is not what it was like when we moved here over a decade ago and I’m worried that the smoky summers like this one and last year will become normal or worse.

But as I hiked down the smoke began to clear just a tiny bit. I could make out the green of the meadows and as the wildflowers came back into view, I realized just how beautiful it really was. I even noticed later that there was even some blue sky in my photos. After all these years, it is still an important reminder to find beauty everywhere, even if I have to work to seek it out.

Outdoor Life

Shriner Peak Lookout

An old friend and I hiked up to the Shriner Peak Lookout on a foggy August morning. It’s been a dry summer. The moisture collected on the leaves and trees, though the forest still clung to a dryness that was palpable. My friend is an avid birder and we listened for bird calls as we walked. He called them out as we heard them: raven, steller’s jay, junko, robin.

After a few miles, the trail opened up to what I imagined were fabulous views, though all we saw were occasional masses of trees layered in clouds. Fireweed towered overhead and my friend picked a leaf for me to chew on. I didn’t know that fireweed was edible and I enjoyed its nice peppery flavor. We climbed on, the fog allowing us to only focus on what was immediately around us. Glowing white orbs of spider webs, soaked mushrooms, and ripe huckleberries. A spritely pika alerted us to its presence just off the trail and we watched as it collected some vegetation and scurried off.

Higher on the mountain, pristine green meadows revealed themselves. Although we had seen plenty of sign of deer or elk, they did not grace us with their majestic presence in the meadows. Bummer. In one particular area, though, it seemed we had been temporarily transported back to my childhood. Emerald green false hellebore towered over my head. The large stalk with wide flat leaves and its trailing clustered flowers made me feel like I was in a foggy cornfield back in Pennsylvania. I had never seen such a dense field of it before.

Finally we spotted the lookout as it emerged from the clouds. One of four in Mt Rainier National Park, the charming two-story lookout was built in 1932.  The fog was starting to clear in patches and we sat on the catwalk and watched the clouds roll by. It felt like we could have been sitting in an airplane. We sat facing where we knew Mt Rainier was, as though we could clear the clouds with our minds. It didn’t work, so we ate our sandwiches instead. A stiff cold breeze froze us until the sun broke through to thaw us again.

We didn’t linger very long in the cold and soon headed back down the mountain. The weather seemed to change with every switchback. The sun came out and we were sure that the mountain would come out for us as we picked some blueberries on the high slopes. As we re-entered the forest, we turned to see a wall of clouds and rain that seemed to come out of nowhere. It showered on us just long enough for me to consider getting out my rain jacket and when I finally decided I should, it stopped and the sun came out again. I shed a layer instead. We soaked up all the sun we could to justify a stop at Wapati Woolies for arguably the best huckleberry shake on the planet.

Hiking Washington’s Fire Lookouts by Amber Casali

As you can imagine, I was SO EXCITED to see this book released recently. Amber Casali has given us a gift- an updated guide book to the lookouts of Washington State. This full-color book has all the details you need to visit as many as you can, including how to access them and some history. There is even a checklist in the back of the book that makes my list-making brain happy.

 

 

 

Book Club

The Future of National Parks

In July we took to the high country and hiked to Fremont Lookout for our Alpine Trails Book Club meet up. Laura chose to hike in a National Park to go along with the theme of the month’s book selection, Lassoing the Sun: A Year in America’s National Parks. We are lucky here in Seattle to be so close to one of the oldest and most impressive National Parks, Mount Rainier.

The trail to the lookout begins at the popular Sunrise area of Mount Rainier National Park at 6400 feet, the highest part of the park that can be reached by road. We met next to the old lodge which opened in 1931. The lodge housed amenities such as showers, laundry, groceries, and cafeteria style dining for the over 200 rentable cabins that sprouted in the area. The cabins did not weather well, though, and were removed in 1944. The beautiful lodge structure remains, however, still offering cafeteria style dining and a gift shop.

We made our way through the crowds to the lookout trail. Emmons Glacier dominates the skyline as we scan the meadows for wildflowers. There was lupine and paintbrush and phlox, all familiar with a just a little twist that made it unique to the Park. It’s not a hike in Mount Rainier unless you spot some happy marmots along the trail. We saw several. I pointed them out to Evie and she giggled and babbled her approval.

We talked about the crowds and how it seems like we are seeing more and more people on the trails lately. Sunrise is a place that people come to from around the world. It is not unusual to hear hikers speaking several different languages. We pass groups of teens, families, trail runners, and couples, all seemingly content and happy to be in this beautiful place. All of us there for the same reasons and no one deserves to be there more than anyone else. But I can’t help wondering, are we loving Mount Rainier and other National Parks to death?

Mark Woods grapples with this and other issues that affect our beloved National Parks in Lassoing the Sun. He won a journalism fellowship that allowed him to spend a year exploring whatever he wanted. He chose the National Parks. Starting with a New Years Day sunrise on Cadillac Mountain in Acadia National Park and ending with a sunset in Haleakala, he traveled to a different National Park each month. And not just the popular ones. He wasn’t out to just celebrate the last 100 years of the parks, but rather to examine threats to the National Parks in the next 100 years.

The most obvious threat to the parks is climate change. The effects are already evident as glaciers in Glacier National Park are melting, habitats are shrinking, and species disappearing. But what should we do about it? Should we preserve the parks and fight to keep them the way they are, or do we let nature take its course and allow species to adapt on their own even if it means we lose some of them?

Photo: Laura Norsen

Then there is the issue of the parks being overcrowded and underfunded. The parks had over 300 million visitors in 2015 which is a staggering number. While it is great that so many people are loving on the parks, there is often not enough staff to support them and budget cuts make it difficult to fix and maintain roads and trails. The other issue with the crowds is that they are mostly white with an average age of 41 according to the National Park Service. This does not reflect the surrounding communities and certainly not the future generation.

In the book, Mark talks his wife and teenage daughter into going on road trips with him to the National Parks. It was what his parents did while he was growing up and he wants to carry on the tradition and share his favorite places. He worries about what the state of the parks will be in his daughter’s lifetime. With a little daughter of my own, I worry about it too. So what should we do about it?

Ultimately, Mark is hopeful. He says,

…being an advocate for the parks doesn’t mean you have to do something extreme. You don’t have to chain yourself to a redwood. You don’t have to be able to donate a bunch of money. If you want to help the parks, the most important thing you can do is simply go to them – and take someone with you.

 

Lassoing the Sun by Mark Woods

 

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Outdoor Life

Evie’s First Summit: Redux

I’ve never been drawn to Mount Rainier like I’m drawn to the North Cascades. I never really knew why, but I think I finally figured it out. I’ve never been there in late summer or fall, my favorite time of year. Turns out, like the North Cascades, Mount Rainier also has many of my favorite things this time of year.

Tolmie Peak Lookout has been on my list to tackle for a while now and I thought it would be a good hike to take Evie on. This time I was right. By now I’ve figured out that all Evie’s problems can simply be solved with a second breakfast. So we fueled up at the trailhead with a mid morning meal and happily set off on the trail.

The way starts out along Mowich Lake with peekaboo views of Mount Rainier. Evie babbled enthusiastically as we stopped to feel the texture of a fern, cedar, and some huckleberry bushes. I spotted a doe through the trees and pointed and whispered look to Evie.

It was quiet. The air was cool, even with the sun shining. The bugs that would have clouded the trail just weeks before have gone into hiding. Baby pink spirea dotted the trail as we reached Eunice Lake. Here we took a nice long break for a snack and a diaper change and chatted with other hikers.

After leaving the lake it was slow going as we stopped frequently for blueberry snacks. I mushed some up with my fingers and fed them to Evie, her first taste of wild mountain blueberries. She squealed with joy and I gave her more. Purple juice dripped down her chin.

I found some blue gentian, my most favorite wildflower, in the meadows by the lake and got down close to show Evie the royal spotted blue. As we climbed the switchbacks toward the lookout I showed her another favorite, fireweed, as the views of Mount Rainier and Lake Eunice became more and more stunning. For the first time in a long time I couldn’t stop taking photos. It was nice to be in a new place with some old favorites.

I have to admit I also enjoyed the accolades I got while hauling my infant to the top of the mountain. I was called brave, strong, impressive. One guy told me he thought he was badass until he saw me carrying up my baby. Another told me I deserve a medal. While I don’t necessarily agree (the mileage, elevation gain, and weight are not all that significant), and I think dad’s deserve the same credit, it did make me feel really good.

I took Evie up onto the deck around the lookout and sat for some lunch with one of the most spectacular views in  Mount Rainier National Park. I thought about my first summit hike to Mount Pilchuck and how it was much more like this hike than my hike with Evie to Pilchuck. It felt so fresh and new.

As a parent there are so many things I think I’m in control of, but I know that it is not the case. I wanted so badly for Evie’s first summit to be the same as my own, and for her special places to be the same as mine. But ultimately she will have her own favorite things and places. Maybe her special place will be Mount Rainier. I mean, technically, this is her first true summit hike since we didn’t go up to the lookout on Pilchuck. So which do I tell her was first? Maybe when she is older I will let her decide.

 

Up by Patricia Ellis Herr

When Herr discovers that her five year old daughter, Alex, enjoys hiking and has the energy to take on big mountains, they decide to climb all forty-eight of New Hampshire’s tallest mountains (dubbed the four thousand footers). Each chapter of the book highlights a lesson learned like: Some Things Will Always Be Beyond Your Control, Some Risks Are Worth Taking, and Enjoy The Journey While It Lasts. This story warmed my heart and gave me inspiration to bring Evie along for all my journeys and learn some lessons on the trail.

 

 

 

 

 

More about the Tolmie Peak Lookout trail

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Outdoor Life

Evie’s First Summit

Let’s just get something out of the way: I do not recommend carrying your infant up Mount Pilchuck. I’ve been on this trail many times before my baby-toting days and in my delirious, sleep-depraved state, I thought it would be a nice hike to take Evie on. It was the first summit for my husband and I when we moved to Seattle, and I wanted it to be her first, too. Well, that’s nice and all, but I failed to recall that the entire trail is constructed of rocks measuring the perfect size to break every bone in your leg from the knee down. I did remember the ladder to the lookout and thought I could handle that no problem, but I completely forgot that you have to scramble up many large boulders to get to it. Ugh.

The hike started off well with Evie in her new position facing forward in the ergo. This is accompanied by screams of joy and excitement at trees? Flowers? Fellow hikers? It’s hard to tell… The forecast called for partly sunny skies and as I drove to the trailhead it was clear that we would be in the clouds on the mountain. While this may bother most people, it made me really excited. I love climbing through the mist and getting above the clouds. There is a sense of mystery. You don’t know if you’ll get views or not and it is so exciting when a cloud disappears to reveal some nearby jagged peak only to cloud up again leaving you watching intently for the next clearing. Its nature’s version of peek-a-boo.

I was just starting to wonder how the heck I didn’t remember any of this ridiculous steep and rocky trail when Evie began to fuss. She was tired and I think my jostling her around to climb up rocks was not the kind of rocking she needed to fall asleep. I stopped and turned her around in the ergo to make it easier for her to nap which did the exact opposite and made her full on cry. I’ve taken Evie on a number of hikes in her short little life but she has never cried like this on the trail. There is something very jarring and unnatural about hearing a baby cry in the otherwise silent and peaceful wilderness. I was pretty sure her sad little wails were being heard in a multitude of valleys below. I had to make her stop.

So I stopped and nursed her and it helped a little, but she was still tired. I continued on, tiptoeing up the rocks and singing twinkle twinkle little star one word at a time in between breaths. I made it a little farther and then she started to cry again. I apologized profusely to my fellow hikers and tried going faster. I eventually gave in though and plopped down right next to the trail to nurse again. The bugs, an annoying mixture of mosquitoes and black flies, descended on us en masse. At first I tried to be all zen mom and not let the bugs bother me and just concentrate on keeping Evie from getting bitten. That lasted all of 5 seconds before I covered her up with my flannel shirt and used her little polka dot jacket to whip around my head like I was in a rodeo. Yeehaw.

People didn’t seem to care because they just mindlessly trudged on by murmuring things like, “I hate nature”, “yuck, I just ate another bug”, and “why did we come up here again?” At least Evie and I weren’t alone in our misery.

I couldn’t take the bugs anymore so I got Evie back in the ergo as quickly as possible and climbed on. We were getting close to the top and the clouds were starting to give a little. As I got to the last scramble Evie was finally asleep. I considered scrambling up the rocks for a minute, determined to get her to the lookout, then decided that I would be doing it more for me than her. Instead, I sat gently on a large boulder as not to disturb her and carefully and quickly ate my lunch.

On the way down the high clouds began to burn off revealing a marine layer below. We were above the clouds now, just as I had hoped for. Evie slept most of the way as I again cursed every rock and boulder on the trail. When she woke up she looked up at me intensely for a long time. I melted and smiled at her thinking maybe she was appreciating that I just carried her up to the top of a boulder infested mountain. It was a sweet moment. Then she began to cry.

Hikes Featured in this Post:

Mt Pilchuck

You may also like: Lookouts: Mt Pilchuck

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Outdoor Life

Pregnant in the Wild

When I found out in the spring that I was pregnant, the first thing I did was calculate my due date. The second thing I did was calculate how pregnant I would be in August. I had plans. I had a long list of hikes and mountains to climb this summer, including a multi-day backpacking trip complete with a summit of Mt Adams. But I would be 5 months pregnant in August. I naively thought perhaps these things were still possible. 

As the snow melted and trails opened up for the summer, it was clear that my hiking days would be limited. After a few months spent doing nothing but napping, I returned to outdoor life. But I was completely out of shape and out of breath on even the easiest of trails. Well, if I wasn’t going to climb a volcano while pregnant I at least wanted to do something besides hobble down an easy trail without passing out. I decided that I would try backpacking.

This was not an immediate decision and I went back and forth about it over and over again. Would it be comfortable sleeping on the ground? How much weight could I carry in addition to my growing belly? And of course, most importantly, was I going to hurt my baby? After doing some research, I decided that I could do it as long as I didn’t carry much more than I normally carried on a day trip. That wouldn’t be possible with just me and my husband, but luckily, we had some family coming to town who offered to carry the extra weight.

We set out on a hot August morning on the road to Mt Baker. We chose to hike up to Twin Lakes since it was an easy road hike and people would be car camping up there so we could get a ride down if we needed it. That gave me some peace of mind. It was also a short climb with stunning views and we could visit one of my favorite lookouts on Winchester Mountain.

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I shouldered my backpack and felt comforted by its heft. I knew I could take more but I let the others carry my weight. I would have to get used to this. I’m not accustomed to letting others help me and I know I have to let go of the urge to prove I’m strong by imposing unneeded suffering on myself. This just seems like an unhealthy parenting style to me and anyways, I don’t have just me to think about anymore, but my little growing baby too. I let it go.

As I trudged up the road at a snails pace and sweating buckets, I was instantly grateful for my light pack and for my husband who hiked slowly with me. I thought about giving birth and how it was going to be infinitely harder than this. I told my husband that when that time comes and I’m struggling, to gently remind me that at least there are not swarms of black flies in the birthing suite trying to eat my flesh. I vow to keep all things in proper perspective.

It wasn’t too long before we reached the lakes and had lunch. We found perhaps one of the best campsites in all the North Cascades and set up camp. We wandered back down to the lake and dipped our toes in the ice cold water. It felt so good. I found the most comfortable patch of grass and laid my head on a smooth rock and took a nap with Nali curled up at my feet. That night we cooked up some delicious food and played Yahtzee until the sun set and we had to use our headlamps. Before we went to sleep my husband and I snuggled on a blanket and watched the stars come out. 

The next day we trekked up to the lookout on Winchester Mountain. I had no pack this time but I was still incredibly slow. Young couples glided past me and I envied their normal-sized bodies and their infinite energy. A few fit young moms carrying their toddlers on their backs passed me and I thought it insane that a body can go from this to that and decided there is no way that my body will ever do that. I decided to just not think about it and have a snack instead. Pregnancy is humbling in so many ways…

I used the following day to rest while the others went to hunt for mines. I took out my sleeping pad and sleeping bag and piled all the soft things I could find up at the top to prop myself up. The air had just a hint of coolness that made it the perfect temperature to put on my beanie and lay in my sleeping bag and read. I was reading about mindfulness. I read through the body scan meditation and really felt every sensation happening to and around me. I don’t think I’ve ever been more relaxed than I was right there snuggled in my bag, Nali curled up next to me with nothing else in view but mountains.

I thought about getting up to grab my camera or phone to take a picture so I could remember that moment forever. But I knew if I got up the spell would be broken. Instead I took a moment to commit it all to memory. The contours of the peaks on the horizon, the waving evergreen limbs of the trees, the hum of the bees buzzing in the wildflowers nearby. It’s all in my head now, there to recall whenever I need it. When the pain comes, this will be my happy place.

 

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Mindful Birthing by Nancy Bardacke

This is the mindfulness book that I was reading on this backpacking trip. I really recommend it for anyone who is pregnant and anxious about the birth. Bardacke teaches meditation to prepare the body and mind for relaxation during the birthing process. This is a whole new way to think about pain and endurance. The jury is still out for me on whether it works or not, but I know that it has already helped to calm my worried mind in preparation for birth and I can only hope that it helps someone else as well.

 

 

 

 

Hikes Featured in this Post:

Winchester Mountain

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Outdoor Life

Evergreen Mountain Lookout

This year for my birthday all I wanted was to spend the day with my husband and go for a hike. We chose to go to Evergreen Mountain because it checks all of my pregnancy hike boxes, which is really just one: short. And, bonus, it’s a lookout! Double bonus: blueberries!

We got lots of elevation out of the way on the long drive to the trailhead which was much appreciated as we hit the trail in the heat of the day. Luckily there were lots of huckleberries to distract from my frequent stops to catch my breath. The trail is short but it’s a bit steep in the beginning and I was a little worried as I looked up to our destination.

But as we continued on, the trail mellowed through some trees providing much needed shade. From there it was just one final push to the top. We were extra happy to find that the whole upper side of the mountain was completely covered in ripe blueberries. We paused to munch away vowing to harvest them on the descent.

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Where there wasn’t blueberries there were wildflowers pink and white inviting us higher. It was mostly Sitka valerian, spirea, and pink heather, some of my favorites. Soon enough, the lookout and Glacier Peak came into view.

The lookout was not open but we had the place  to ourselves so we huddled against the shaded side of the structure. We ate our lunch and identified the surrounding peaks: Monte Cristo, Columbia, Sloan, and of course, Glacier Peak.

It was just three years ago when we climbed that mountain and my how things have changed. Being pregnant, I sometimes forget how it was in the not so distant past when I was un-pregnant. I miss spending a full day on a long, grueling but ultimately rewarding hike and then waking up the next day and doing it all over again. I miss checking off summits and feeling like I earned my exhaustion, not just feeling exhausted because I got out of bed today. Sometimes I think I will never have the energy or time to climb mountains again, but I know that’s not true. My “to be climbed” list just has a new title: “to be climbed someday with my kid.” Man, I really hope she likes mountains…

Hike Featured in this Post:

Evergreen Mountain Lookout

Outdoor Life

Kelly Butte Lookout

One of my favorite things to do in the summer is climb to lookouts. My first of this year was Kelly Butte on the July 4th weekend. My husband drove us to the trailhead through a meandering of forest roads and I was surprised at the chill in the air when I opened my car door at the trailhead.

Clouds clung to the top the mountain and I was positive we’d be socked in at the top, but every now and then the sun would poke out to give us a little hope of views at the top.

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The trail starts out lazily on an old continuation of the road through forest. We let Nali off the leash to run free and smell all the smells. Soon we arrived at the official trailhead where it abruptly switchbacks up and up through some fascinating geologic features. One particular rock outcrop looks like stairs and I joked that we could just climb up them for a shortcut.

Instead we kept to the narrow trail rising along the steep slope. I read that originally this area had a makeshift climbers trail that had to be scrambled up. While this seems plausible, I was happy for the tread.

Once cresting the steep section the trail opens up into broad meadows. Red paintbrush, blue lupine and white beargrass painted the slopes in patriotic splendor as the grade eased to mellow.

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The sun still poked in and out of fast-moving low clouds. We delightedly watched them whip by. As we climbed we entered an alpine forest shrouded in fog. The white of the beargrass stood out on the background of dark green meadow like constellations. Soon we caught a glimpse of the lookout in the mist.

The lookout was open and we let ourselves in to take shelter from the cold and enjoy our lunch. We were amazed at the care that was taken to keep the lookout in amazing shape. The structure was originally built in the 1920’s and rebuilt several times with the latest restoration in 2011. A nice plaque hangs commemorating the volunteer effort to preserve this piece of history.

As we ate our pb & j sandwiches the wind picked up and whistled through the rafters. As usual while in a lookout, I thought about what it would be like to be there during a storm and got a little thrill in my stomach. I felt safe and secure in the lookout and lingered as long as possible.

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Before leaving I flipped through the register notebook. Not many people had been there recently, in fact we only saw a few others on the trail that day. I scribbled a line for me, my husband and the dog and then almost as an afterthought, added a plus one. I scribbled “and Baby G (16 weeks pregnant!)” with a big smile on my face. As we put on our jackets to head back down the trail I hoped that our baby could feel he happiness, love and contentment I felt on that mountain.

Hikes Featured in this Post:

Kelly Butte

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Outdoor Life

Granite Mountain Lookout

I’ve been to this nearby lookout many times over the years, but the first time was my favorite. It was late September and Seattle was nestled under a chilly layer of clouds. I started hiking up in the shadows before entering the foggy layer. I was a little disappointed because I thought the lookout would be in the clouds. I wouldn’t see any views but I was looking forward to seeing the fall color anyway. To my surprise as I climbed I discovered that the cloud layer was not so thick and suddenly it was all pure blue skies. I was on top of the clouds and it felt like I was on top of the world.

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It was my first fall hiking experience in the Cascades and I was in love. It felt like being in an airplane up there above the clouds. The air had a crisp coolness that refreshed me from all the climbing. And the yellow, orange and red color of the foliage popped against the bluebird sky.

When we got to the lookout my dog Nali, then only 6 months old, was hesitant to go up the flight of wooden stairs to the lookout. I picked her up and she whined. Apparently my dog was afraid of heights. What kind of adventure dog is afraid of heights?

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I was greeted by a couple dressed in forest service khaki and the most amazing smell, so out of place that I almost didn’t recognize it. It was chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven. The woman handed me one and my jaw dropped. It was still warm and it melted in my mouth. I was completely blown away by this simple gift. It was officially the best day ever.

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I discovered that the couple were volunteer rangers just up there manning the lookout for the weekend. They showed me the Osborne fire finder and how they lined it up to determine the coordinates of a fire. I lingered above it, matching up the mountains etched in the metal with the ones I saw out the windows. The space was cozy with a cot and blankets, a desk and chair and that all important gas powered oven.

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This past weekend I returned to Granite Mountain. It’s the same time of year that I made that first visit and I had high hopes when I woke up to a marine layer in Seattle. But the clouds didn’t stretch its fingers past the foothills under the unseasonable warm sun. And the lookout was locked up, no cookies this time. But it was a beautiful day so Nali and I climbed up the rocks to find a nice lunch spot and looked to the north. Jagged brown peaks pierced the blue sky as I spotted Glacier Peak and Mt Baker, more interesting, at least to me, than the views of Mt Rainier to the south.

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I’ll never get a repeat of that first hike to the lookout. But there is still comfort in returning to a beloved trail. I know exactly what to expect and where the hardest part of the trail is. I know that the last push to the top is easier than it looks but will take every last bit of energy out of me. I know that when I get about halfway up I will wonder why on earth I would ever succumb myself repeatedly to this leg torture of a trail. And I know that as soon as I hit the meadows I will forget all of that. Most importantly, I know that I can make it to the top and that the hard work to get there is worth it. And maybe, just maybe, there will be a warm chocolate chip cookie waiting for me at the top.

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I haven’t had another cookie experience like that one on my first trip to lookout many years ago, so I don’t want to get everyone’s hopes up. But you can create your own cookie experience with a recipe for my favorite version of the universally loved snack. Share some with strangers at the top to make it their best day ever.

Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Cookie Recipe:

1 1/4c flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp salt
3/4c softened butter
3/4c brown sugar
1/3 c sugar
1 1/2 tsp vanilla
1 egg
2 Tbsp milk
1 3/4 c chocolate chips
1 c quick oats

  1. Preheat oven to 350F.
  2. Combine flour, baking soda, baking powder, cinnamon and salt in a bowl.
  3. In a separate bowl, beat the butter, brown sugar, sugar and vanilla until creamy. Beat in egg.
  4. Gradually beat in flour mixture and milk.
  5. Stir in chocolate chips and oats.
  6. Drop onto baking sheet and bake for 10-14 minutes.

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Hikes featured in this post:
Granite Mountain

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