Outdoor Life

Mother’s Day Hike

For Mother’s Day this year, all I wanted was to go for a hike with Evie and my husband. I got a bonus in that my husband made me a chai latte and French toast (my favorites) for breakfast. Evie’s Uncle JoJo and Aunt KK were in town too and joined us as well. My husband got out Evie’s backpack and she got right in even though it was sitting on the floor. We were worried she wouldn’t want to get in it later if she spent too much time in there now.

We headed to Heybrook Ridge, a recently built trail that we haven’t been on yet. As we drove, a train paralleled us on highway 2. Evie got super excited and when the train went out of sight behind the trees, she would say, “where’s the train? Where’s the train?” She squealed with joy when it came back into view. We even watched it go over a bridge from the trailhead.

Evie wanted me to carry her on my back, but my husband told her that I get a break today and he would carry her. So sweet. She obliged and we headed into the mossy trees. The forest floor was carpeted in the green of starry Solomon seal, sword fern, bunchberry, and bleeding heart. The trail climbed with switchbacks up and up.

It didn’t take us long to get to the ridge. Clouds obscured the views of Mount Index across the valley, but while we were snacking they started to roll away. The clouds disappeared faster than Evie smothered peanut butter and jelly all over her face. Before we knew it, there was not a cloud in sight.

We lingered for a while, enjoying the company of others hiking with their families, basking in the sun, and marveling at Bridal Veil falls from afar. From here you wouldn’t guess that the falls gently cascade jagged rock that are so gentle that you can walk right up to it. It’s been years since I’ve been to the falls and Lake Serene. Maybe I’ll see if Evie is up for more stairs this summer.

On the way down Evie found a walking stick (still our wonderful magical hiking device) and walked almost all the way down to the trailhead. She is entirely fearless. We had to stop her several times and make her hold our hands on the steep terrain or she would have just kept on going, leaving us in the dust. I both love and hate this about her. She is fiercely independent, brave, and a little sassy. She scares the crap out of me sometimes, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m a lucky mama.

Book Club

Eating Dirt

It’s become a book club tradition to spend a day working with Washington Trails Association to give back and lend a hand to our beloved trails. This year we helped build a new trail at Little Mountain. We gathered at the trailhead, greeted by the knocks of woodpeckers and the smiles of our crew. Barbara, our crew leader for the day, gave us a safety briefing and explained what we would be working on.

The trail was aptly named the Upquick Trail. Barbara took us down the lovely new switchbacks to try out the old trail on the way back up. We got up quick alright. The trail went straight up the steep hillside. They started working on the new trail in October and now it just needed some final touches like some rock walls to help retain soil and prevent erosion. I’ve wondered how they make those nice neat rock walls on the trails, now we were about to find out.

The key to the rock wall is the zip line. A pulley system allowed us to move massive rocks down the steep trail most efficiently. I was super stoked to hear we were working a zip line, and this wasn’t just a simple zip line like I’ve done before, but a legit zip line that went straight down the mountain side. This was a task that required great care and coordination.

We paired our work party with Eating Dirt, a memoir of a tree planter. Like most jobs in the outdoors, tree planting is not a glamorous one. They spend entire days hunched over digging holes and planting little seedlings as fast as possible. They were getting paid by the tree and it was grueling work. The way that Gill describes her experience, though, is right on and exactly how I feel after a work party. It’s hard work, but it can be addictive in a strange way that makes you keep coming back for more.

During our lunch break, we discussed some of the hardest jobs we’ve had. Jamie has spent a lot of time working in the outdoors studying fish and really related to the last part of the book when the tree planters live on a boat off Vancouver Island. Rebecca told us how she spent a summer in Alaska working in a cannery for college money. She said it was incredibly humbling. We all decided that it’s good to have those types of work experiences when you are young: humbling hard work.

By the end of the day we had transported a large pile of boulders down the mountain. It was more fun and exciting than hard and humbling, but it certainly gave us perspective on how much work, effort, and love goes into maintaining our Washington trails. While we celebrated our accomplishments for the day, we found out that one of the “orange hats” that was with us, Pete, had recently logged over 2000 work hours with WTA in his lifetime! He even self-published a guide to building trails that many of us happily bought and got signed by him. Then we headed to Skagit River Brewery for a celebratory meal to finish off our day of working in the woods.

There was something alluring, addictive even, about the job. I liked the feel of loam between my fingers, loved the look of a freshly planted tree bristling up from tamped soil. Planting trees was a whole, complete task. You could finish what you started in just a few seconds. You could sow a field in a day. It meant being outside, unprotected from the elements, but at least weather affected everyone equally. Best of all, in a cut block you could erase your old self. You could disappear almost completely.

Charlotte Gill, Eating Dirt
Eating Dirt by Charlotte Gill

Book Ends

Book Club Archive

Book Club

The Light Between Oceans

I’ve been wanting to visit a lighthouse with the book club for a while now, so in April we finally did it. We didn’t go to just any lighthouse, but particularly one on an island. Our book pick was The Light Between Oceans about a young couple who lives in a lighthouse on an island all to themselves. We ferried our way north to San Juan Island for a weekend of exploring, camping, and lighthouse visiting.

I brought my husband and daughter this time and Evie relished in the cold, salty wind of the Salish Sea on the deck of the ferry boat. She ran circles around the inside passenger area and made some new pint-sized friends. I was happy to greet some of the book club members and we got caught up as we soaked up the views.

Upon landing in Friday Harbor, we decided to head directly to the charming little Griffin Bay Bookstore. We could have spent all day in there browsing the books, but we tore ourselves away to visit the Farmers Market and get some grub. We packed up our food and books and headed out to English Camp for a picnic. It was a perfectly comfortable spring day and after our lunch we all unceremoniously lined up and laid down in the grass.

We lounged and chatted for a long while and then decided to head to the campground to get set up for the night. While we drove, we found an adorable alpaca farm and just had to stop. Evie loved the alpacas and we touched everything in the gift store with an “ahhh.” We met the rest of our group at the San Juan County Campground and lingered on the shoreline nearby after setting up camp. We made sweet potato tacos from the Feast by Firelight camp cookbook. They were SO GOOD. They were also super easy and this is definitely my new go-to camp recipe.

Rebecca brought her daughter who is seven years old. She shared her fuzzy slippers with Evie rendering the two girls inseparable. After dinner, we headed back down towards the shore for sunset. Evie painted watercolors with her new BFF and I brought out a special dessert surprise. It was an applesauce cake, an old favorite family recipe of mine, glazed and lit up with candles for my BFF, Laura’s, birthday. We sang to her and indulged in the cake while sipping wine and watching the gorgeous sunset.

Soon the darkness brought a chill to the air and we snuggled up with blankets around the campfire for our book chat. In the book, the lightkeeper and his wife find a washed up boat with a man and a baby inside. They discovered the man was dead, but the baby was still alive. After a recent miscarriage that was preceded by many before, the young woman decides to keep the baby as their own without telling anyone. Her husband, a law-abiding man, was deeply conflicted with the decision his wife made.

As you can imagine, there is little room for this story to end well. While the plot is heartbreaking, I really enjoyed the sense of living on a secluded island as a lightkeeper. San Juan Island is tiny, but it still holds the largest town of all the San Juans with enough to easily fill up our day with activities. It was hard to imagine being in their shoes, the only people for miles and miles.

For the first time he took in the scale of the view. Hundreds of feet above sea level, he was mesmerized by the drop to the ocean crashing against the cliffs directly below. The water sloshed like white paint, milky-thick, the foam occasionally scraped off long enough to reveal a deep blue undercoat. At the other end of the island, a row of immense boulders created a break against the surf and left the water inside it as calm as a bath. He had the impression he was hanging from the sky, not rising from the earth. Very slowly, he turned a full circle, taking in the nothingness of it all. It seemed his lungs could never be large enough to breathe in this much air, his eyes could never see this much space, nor could he hear the full extent of the rolling, roaring ocean. For the briefest moment, he had no edges.

M.L. Stedman, The Light Between Oceans

The next day we headed to Lime Kiln State Park to visit its lighthouse which dates back to 1919. A short loop trail takes you up to several old and deteriorating lime kilns from the 1920’s. This must have been a busy place back in the day. Evie picked up the green rocks and inspected them as we explored the kilns.

Evie walked all by herself most of the way with her new friend. When she tired and wanted me to hold her, fellow book club member Mala carefully chose a stick and gave it to her to use as a walking stick. Evie’s face lit up and she charged down the trail with her new stick. Mala’s wise motherly gesture was greatly appreciated. Evie even acquired a second stick that transformed her into a little hiking machine.

The trail traversed a spectacular forest with massive old growth madrona trees, the largest I’ve ever seen. The girls climbed on them and posed for pictures, happy as little clams. Soon we were at the end of the loop trail and near the lighthouse. It wasn’t open that day (tours run from mid-May to mid-September) but we poked around a bit.

We wandered along the shore and found a nice spot to share lunch. We lingered lazily and spotted a sea otter and a seal. Rebecca and I picked our way down the rocks to some tide pools with our girls. They loved bending over and getting their faces down close to the water. The longer we looked, the more life we found: anemones, urchins, hermit crabs, gooseneck mussels.

After much exploration we headed back to Friday Harbor to get our spots for the ferry boats. We met one last time for coffee (or tea), a bite, and one last little pop-in to the bookstore before making the long journey home.

The Light Between Oceans by M.L. Stedman

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Book Club Archive

Outdoor Life

Boardman Lake

Early summer is for alpine lakes in my book. We took advantage of a promising forecast and packed Evie up to Boardman Lake on the Mountain Loop Highway. The long, bumpy drive makes for a solitary and short hike to the lake. We pulled into the empty trailhead and let Evie lead the way, fox lovey in hand.

I optimistically thought that maybe our budding little hiker would walk the whole 1 mile to the lake, but as it turns out, a mile is a LONG way. Especially for such tiny legs with the brain of a squirrel. Her little mind was like a sponge and she wanted to investigate every plant and rock along the trail. I was, however, so proud that she made it up the root-filled trail all the way to Lake Evans, the first stop along the trail, about a quarter mile in.

Lake Evans is more of a pond than a lake, and Nali promptly jumped into it with a splash. Evie, eager to follow suit, marched right up to the water’s edge. We had to hold her back and tried to distract her by pointing out a small frog hopping around. This seemed like a slam dunk of a distraction to me, but she was completely unimpressed and continued to insist on walking right on into the water.

We managed to guide her away from the lake and back to the trail. She walked a bit longer up over rocks and roots, holding my hand. When she sat down in the middle of the trail we took it as a cue to put her in the pack. She didn’t resist.

It wasn’t far to the lake and we headed clockwise around it and across a log jam to find a place for lunch. We found a nice little beach and had some snacks.

Nali stomped around the shallows of the water despite the icebergs still floating on the surface. Evie, always eager to play in the water, watched enviously from the shore.

For a short little hike, it was quite a pleasant one. We had the place to ourselves and there was a yellow glow to the lake from some pollen or algae that gave it a pretty and surreal feel. It felt good to be out and even a tiny bit adventurous.

Road Trip

Arizona Part 3: Sedona

Day 5: Red Rock State Park

We started our first full day in Sedona at the Coffee Pot Restaurant. Named after the nearby rock formation, this diner boasts a menu of 101 omelets. I had a wonderful omelet but was overwhelmed by the crowded space and endless choices. We had been in the wilderness for less than a week, but I was certainly not ready for the onslaught of civilization. We quickly ate and retreated to the trails.

There are lots of trails along the Red Rock Loop and it seems like you really can’t go wrong anywhere here. We decided to first check out Red Rock State Park. After sorting out the backpacks and gear and slathering on the SPF, Evie, perhaps feeling my uncomfortable vibes at breakfast, decided to have a complete meltdown in the parking lot when we tried to put her in the backpack.

We packed everything back into the car, including Evie, and went for a short drive to another trailhead. That did the trick and we were back on schedule. We let her walk on her own for a bit and after a short while she was ready for the pack and a nap. The trail started out in a lovely forest and crossed the clear Oak Creek. From there the hardwoods gave way to prickly pear and juniper as we got farther away from the water. I was super excited to find a bright pink hedgehog cactus bloom and even a lone yellow prickly pear bloom.

After climbing to some views, we headed back to the Visitors Center for some shade. There is a nice little patio outside next to a garden with several bird and hummingbird feeders. The birds were everywhere, the hummingbirds buzzed and we even spied a snake resting in the shade. Then we headed to a big picnic area to sit in the shade and made our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch.

It was still early afternoon but too hot to go for another hike. So we headed back up Oak Creek Canyon and stopped at Indian Gardens for something cold. The charming market didn’t disappoint with its selection of cold beverages. I peaked out onto the patio and decided we HAD to go back the next day for breakfast. Then we drove a bit farther and found a spot to pull off the road and access the creek.

The spot was shady and cool. We got Evie into her swimsuit and my husband took her out into the calm, cool water. She couldn’t get enough. She walked right in with zero hesitation and had no intention of leaving the water. She splashed around in the mud and collected more rocks. I lounged on a boulder and sipped a cold crisp cider. We decided this was the only way to survive here.

 

Day 6: Sedona to Scottsdale

The next morning we headed back to Indian Gardens for breakfast. We sat in the cool morning air on the patio surrounded by flowers. Evie dug into her massive toast with almond butter, bananas, and honey. She needed a bath after that! I savored my tasty chai latte and breakfast sandwich. I could definitely get used to this place.

Next we headed back to the Red Rock Loop and found the Margs Draw Trail. I love how easy it is to find a trail in Sedona, there seems to be an endless supply. Evie was more cooperative this time and my husband carried her as I pointed too a bunch of quails that took over a small tree. She looked at them stoically, unimpressed. I scoured the prickly pear for blooms and admired the minty green of the agave.

Rusty rock formations towered above us and I struggled to recognize the shapes they were named after: Snoopy, coffee pot, cathedral, bell, courthouse. Sure, I suppose you could make out the references if you looked really hard, but I preferred to just think of them as wild rocks untarnished of images of ordinary things. They deserve better.

The day grew warmer and warmer and it seemed we had hiked much more than the 1.5 miles one way advertised in the guide book. We dipped into countless washes and I scanned the horizon with eagle eyes looking for coyotes. I wanted to see one so bad! I knew it was unlikely they would be out in the heat of the day. We were getting tired and hot when we decided we had indeed gone farther than 1.5 miles and turned around. Not long after that we ran into a family from Florida who told us they were lost. The mother was convinced they were going the wrong way and we showed them the way back to the road. They hadn’t been out for long and were so close to civilization that there was no way I thought it would be possible to get lost. Right? They didn’t have any water with them but they were joking and having fun. Later we ran into another couple from Phoenix who also told us they were lost. Man, this was not a place where I would want to be even the slightest bit lost.

After what turned out to be closer to a 6 mile round trip hike, we found refuge in the air conditioning of the car. Our plastic America the Beautiful pass had warped beyond repair on the dashboard, but the water in the shade of the back seat stayed cool. As we headed south out of Sedona, I wanted something cold. We stopped at the gas station and they were completely out of ice cream and popsicles of any kind! I was outraged but then decided that it made sense in this crazy desert. I settled for a cherry Slurpee.

Our destination for the day was a hotel with air conditioning and a shower in Scottsdale that I was admittedly very excited to get to. We had a little ways to go though, and we decided to take the scenic route. We drove through the high little mountain towns of Pine and Strawberry and when we saw signs for the Tonto Natural Bridge, I looked it up in the book. It seemed like it might be cool and we needed a break anyway, so we stopped.

We hiked down a short and steep trail into a large canyon of travertine. The tan canyon walls looked like they were melting into the abyss. As we dropped down into the canyon we had to hop across smooth eroded rock to get below the bridge. When we finally saw it our jaws dropped. The bridge and tunnel below it were massive. Up close the massive and porous travertine boulders looked like dinosaur bones. It was one of the most bizarre and fascinating places I’ve ever been. I was so  glad we stopped even if it slightly delayed my cold shower. It was worth it.

As our plane descended into Seattle the next morning, my starved eyes were fed with the most brilliant of greens. While we were gone, the trees had leafed out into piercing spring emerald green. I felt so lucky to live in a place with so much green and water. I also came home with a respect for the desert, for the availability of drinking water, and frankly a love of Arizona that I was not expecting. This trip made a lasting impression on me- I think of that man washing his dishes in such little water often and find myself scanning the road side for wildlife. I look forward to returning to Arizona. Always in the coolest of seasons, and always looking for coyotes.

Road Trip

Arizona Part 2: Grand Canyon

Day 3: Grand Canyon National Park

The next morning was like Christmas. We woke up to the soft rays of the rising sun through the juniper and prickly pear. We bundled up, made breakfast (I rushed it as much as possible), and then headed over to Desert Tower, not far from our campsite. The sky was a dark, piercing blue, the kind you get on a crisp fall day, and just a few clouds lingered from the interesting weather from the past day. The strange-looking stone tower was not open yet and we had the place to ourselves. We took in the sweeping views, down into the heart of the canyon as the Colorado shined like a silver snake.

The scale of the canyon is of course difficult to describe. It is a thing that you have to see to believe. One could sit and look for days into the canyon and see a thousand new things. I know people hike rim to rim, but from here it seemed an impossible task. The north rim must be at least 10 miles away as the crow flies, if not more. I am used to thinking that the higher up you go into the mountains, the more remote it is. Here, though, it is the opposite. It felt kind of strange and voyeuristic to look down into the remote canyon, knowing that people were down there with little in the way of amenities tackling their journeys while we were watching cozy and comfy from above.

After we tore ourselves away from the gorgeous views, we drove to the Grand Canyon Visitor Center to start our hike. The vibe here was much different than what we got at Desert Tower. We pulled into a massive parking lot that was already almost full and we committed the red antelope on the parking lot sign to memory like we were in an amusement park. We followed the people to the visitor center and found the Rim Trail.

The Rim Trail is nice in that it is mostly accessible for anyone, is easy to follow, and you can walk as long as you’d like and then hop on a shuttle bus to get back to the car. I appreciated the setup with the shuttle buses and how it keeps cars off the roads and in turn keeps pollution and noise down. There were lots of people on the trail in the beginning but then the crowds thinned as we kept on. Our first stop was the geology museum at Yavapai Point in a little stone building perched on the rim. It wasn’t all that impressive to be honest, but as we left the museum and continued on the trail, we entered into the “Trail of Time” where time was depicted as golden markers on the trail.

We passed through a few hundred years quite quickly and kept into the thousands. After a while we passed by examples of the type of rock that was formed during that time period. Once we got into the millions of years ago, it started to get good. I enjoyed reading off the familiar names of the rock formations like Kaibab, Coconino, Supai, Bright Angel, Temple Butte. Then we got into the really fun ones, like folded Vishnu basement rock and Jupiter granite. These rocks were billions of years old! It was kind of mind-blowing.

Next we stopped to check out the Hopi House store. It was architect Mary Colter’s first work in the Grand Canyon and she modeled it after a pueblo. Native Americans were welcome to come and sell their goods here, and today it still serves as the best place along the south rim to souvenir shop. I picked up some things there including the gorgeous children’s book, The Girl Who Loved Wild Horses, and another one called Everybody Needs a Rock since Evie was in a serious rock collecting phase (we actually found little rocks in her baby pockets when we got home which almost made my heart explode with love).

We watched some hikers complete the long uphill climb of the Bright Angel Trail and then grabbed some lunch at the famous Bright Angel Lodge. Then we kept on walking. The views never got old and there was so much history to see. We checked out the Kolb Studio where the famous Kolb brothers showed the first motion picture from the inside of the canyon, filmed on their own journey down the Colorado. There was also its sleek rival, Lookout Studio. Unfortunately, both studios are now just souvenir shops without much reference to what they once were. We walked some more until we got tired and hopped on the shuttle to the end of the road at Hermit’s Rest.

There we basked in the sun and ordered ice cream at the little walk up store window. I waited in line while my husband and Evie went off to find a place to sit in the shade. Someone in front of me was asking where everyone was from. They answered: California, Australia, France, Germany. We Americans were in the minority and that felt kind of nice. I found my husband and Evie under a tree and Evie was making a little pile of rocks as became her favorite thing to do on this trip. We found respite from our day’s journey, as intended, and when we’d had enough, we hopped back on the shuttle to the village. On the way back we saw tons of elk along the road, just hanging out.

At the village we walked back the few miles to the parking lot. All of the sudden we noticed the clouds. Virga hung in the air in the canyon and it felt like you could reach out and touch it. Sunlight filtered through the openings in the clouds and highlighted ridges in the canyon, giving it even more dimension. We watched the clouds move around us and then we could see the hail coming down up ahead of us. It was only a matter of time until it hit us and turned to rain. It seemed that we missed the worst of it, though, as we watched people drenched from head to toe walking past us.

Later that night after dinner we headed back to the Desert Tower to watch the sunset. There was a crowd of people sitting along the edge. A few of the dramatic rain clouds stuck around for a show and we admired one as we found a nice rock to sit on among the crowd. It was quiet and we were all there for the same reason. Together we watched the blaze of yellow disappear behind the north rim and we experienced a famous Grand Canyon sunset. I have to say, it was quite grand.

Day 4: Grand Canyon to Sedona

The next morning we got a later start and headed back to Desert Tower. This time it was open so we went in to check it out. I didn’t know anything about the tower so when we walked up the stairs to the tower part, my jaw dropped. The inside of the tower was, from bottom to top, covered in Native American art. It was so beautiful and I wondered where it all came from. Turns out is was another of Mary Colter’s creations. I made a mental note to find out more about this woman (more about her later). I was so glad that we took the time to go back and see the inside of it. It is now one of my very favorite places.

Before we headed back out of the National Park, we stopped at the Tusayan ruins. The pueblo-like structures date back to 1185 AD and include the remains of a small Kiva. This is a room where the ancient people would gather for ceremonies, rituals, and meetings. Nearby, there was an open field where it is believed that people grew crops and collected water. The surrounding forest was full of useful plants. The information signs called it a “supermarket.” Pinon pines and Utah Juniper supplied wood for construction, heating, and cooking. The pine needles were used to make baskets and brewed into tea. The tree bark was used to make sandals and insulation, and pinon nuts and juniper berries were collected and eaten. The tough leaves of the yucca were braided into rope or made into shoes.

Next we headed back south toward Flagstaff and decided to stop and check out the Wupatki ruins in the Sunset Crater Volcano National Monument. This part of the park was much different than near the volcano. It was an open desert, prairie-like with little to no trees, just a few shrubs here and there. As we drove along the winding loop road we spotted some pronghorns watching us from a small hill. The loop road has several stops with short trails leading to ruins. These ruins also date back to the 1100’s and are pueblo-style.

The first ruin was Lomaki, meaning “beautiful house.” Evie fell asleep on the drive so my husband and I took turns on the short trail to let her nap in the car. The pueblo was situated above a small box canyon with views of the snow-capped San Fransisco peaks. These are the remains of a large stratovolcano and include Arizona’s highest peak, Humphreys Peak. It felt lonely there, out in the middle of nowhere, and I really really wanted to spot coyote or some more pronghorns, but no luck.

We continued on to the next ruins, Nalakihu and Citadel pueblos. Evie woke up so we all ate some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the blazing sun before tackling this one. Then she walked on her own all the way up to the top of the Citadel! I was so proud of her, even if we did have to stop and look at at least 500 rocks on the way. I’m totally ok with that.

Our last stop on the loop road was Wupatki, the largest and most impressive ruin. The National Parks paper says that life at Wupatki, “revolved around growing corn, praying for rain, and finding ways for people with diverse backgrounds to live together as a community.” The name Wupatki, means “tall house” in the Hopi language. It is several stories tall and contains over 100 rooms. This was a major trade center where traders would bring all kinds of exotic goods like scarlet macaws brought from tropical places and of course pottery, jewelry, and turquoise. Life here must have been very difficult, given there is little rain and vegetation.

In the visitor center you can borrow guide books that give information at certain locations along the trail. One of the most surprising things I read in the guide was that when this area became a National Monument, the rangers actually lived inside the ruins. They had kitchens and everything and often brought their wives to come live with them. Before that, it was common for sheepherders and cattlemen to live there too. I can’t imagine this happening now as it is so protected.

Back on road we drove for a bit and stopped at Walnut Canyon. It was getting quite hot outside now and the short trail from the visitor’s center dropped down 200 feet into the canyon and onto an “island.” The surrounding canyon was full of cliff dwellings. We pointed them out to each other and then pondered how on earth anyone could get to them. They were created roughly 800 years ago by the Sinagua people. They were most likely attracted to this canyon because of its abundance of plants and wildlife. It seems desolate now, but it is cool to think that long ago this canyon was full of people and you could just climb over to visit your neighbor’s dwelling.

It was getting late in the afternoon and it was also getting seriously hot. We drove to our next destination, Sedona, and found a campsite in Oak Creek Canyon. We set up camp and drove into town to find some food and refuge from the sun. We found some delicious Mexican food with lovely views of the surrounding red rocks. Then we came back to the campsite for our evening ritual of prickly pear candy and prickly pear tea before bed. There weren’t many rocks at this campsite, so I showed Evie that she could also collect pine cones. She went straight to work. When she was done we got her ready for bed and read her favorite Pancakes, Pancakes book and an adorable Native American board book about weather that I picked up at Brightside Books in Flagstaff. We were getting into a new routine now. I preferred this one and I knew it would be tough to go back to our old one.

Road Trip

Arizona Part 1: Verde Valley

Day 1: Phoenix to Dead Horse Ranch State Park

In the beginning of May we headed to Arizona for our annual spring road trip. (We did a spring road trip last year, so now it’s a tradition, right?) I was super excited because I had never been there and had been wanting to go there for a long time. We flew into Phoenix and headed north. Like last year, we didn’t have much of a plan. We stopped at REI and bought a map and a National Parks pass and I cracked open my guide book while my husband drove.

We headed to the small town of Cottonwood where I found Dead Horse State Park on the map. We found great camping there with gorgeous views. They even had showers AND a dish washing station. It was a little chilly and dark clouds threatened as we set up and got our bearings. We were in the Verde Valley and could see the “J” indicating the mining town of Jerome up in the mountains above us. Virga hung in the air toward Jerome and the smell of ozone overwhelmed us. We made a quick dinner and prepped for stormy weather in the tent. We bundled up and put Evie in her winter jam jams and sleep sack. It was not exactly the desert weather we were expecting!

Rain showers came and went all night but it was mostly dry when we woke up. We made breakfast and I took the dishes to wash at the station. An older man was already there, just getting started. I made myself cozy nearby and waited. It was a beautiful morning and it felt so good to just sit and watch a little yellow bird twitter around in a tree. The man finished with his dishes and I realized that I barely heard him use any water. Ah yes, of course, we were in a desert. Water is a valued resource here and not to be wasted. This was a good reminder of the importance of clean and fresh water and one that stuck with me.

Day 2: Tuzigoot to Desert View & Everything in between

We started the day at the nearby Tuzigoot Ruins. This ancient 110-room pueblo was built by the Sinagua people who lived there between 1000 and 1400. The stone structure sits atop a small hill with a view of the river valley below. We were surprised by how green it was along the Verde River, but should have guessed. We decided it was a nice place to make a home, beside the river and up high to see everything around. But it was exposed, and must get incredibly hot.

On this day, however, it was not hot. As we walked along the short path it began to rain and as each drop hit the ground it seemed to release every smell the surface had ever encountered. It smelled of coyote urine and dried grass. Ghosts of all the fauna that visited and all the flora that lived and died since the last rain were released all at once. The rain then picked up and converged into hail. We moved more quickly and covered up Evie. The marble-sized hail stung my exposed toes (I insisted on wearing my Chacos despite the weather) and we took shelter in the visitor center. We and the park rangers on duty watched the hail out the window. The rangers were stunned and told us we were so lucky to be there in the rain. I squinted my eyes and told them we were from Seattle. They laughed and told us it hadn’t rained a drop since October, seven months ago.

It hailed and rained a bit longer while we ran to the car and snaked up to Jerome, an old ghost town perched on a 30 degree slope at 5200 feet. The town looks much like it did when it was a booming copper mining town with its wooden storefronts and rough exterior. It once boasted a population of over 10,000 people before the depression of the 1930’s. A hardy group of 50-100 stuck it out after the mine closed in the 1950’s. It regained popularity in the last 30 years and is now touted as a tourist destination and art community. We wandered around the old mine while Evie had her morning snacks.

Our next destination was Montezuma Castle. The impressive cliff dwellings were also built by the Sinagua people. It is one of the best preserved dwellings because of the protective alcove it was built in. It’s name is misleading. It didn’t have anything to do with Montezuma and was not a castle. It was more of an apartment complex with many rooms that were accessed by ladders and stood high above Beaver Creek which frequently flooded in monsoon season. When it was designated a National Monument by Theodore Roosevelt in 1906, visitors could climb up and tour the dwellings. Safety became an issue, though, and the ladders were removed to also help preserve the space.

We then headed north again on the highway toward Flagstaff. As we climbed up in elevation it began to snow. It snowed and snowed until we got into town where the sunshine melted it away. We found a nice little restaurant with delicious tacos and I discovered the local Wild Tonic kombucha tea. We also discovered the most adorable Brightside Books next door. I could have stayed there all day perusing the books and chatting with the friendly staff, but alas, we were hoping to make it to the Grand Canyon that day, so we had to keep on our way.

We had time for another adventure, though, so we stopped at Sunset Crater Volcano for a short hike to stretch our legs. The black and red cinder cone is the dormant remnant of the volcano that last erupted around the year 1085. The landscape seems little changed since then. Pumice covers the mountain and lava pillows on the ground below it. The lava beds are extensive and reminiscent of those in Hawaii. It is amazing how little has grown here in the last 1000 years. Another reminder of how harsh the desert climate can be.

The ancient Sinagua people that lived nearby were forced to flee their settlements during the eruption. The lava flows extended to six miles in some places and the area was covered in ash. We passed by a hornito, Spanish for “little oven” on the trail. It was a perfectly circular area, flattened in the middle and ringed by lava rocks. It was a spatter cone formed by lava forced up through a chamber and accumulated on the edges. It was huge and I wondered what it would be like to see it’s formation. The eruption affected the people of the area profoundly. The Navajo people believe this cinder cone and others around the San Francisco Peaks are guardians and protectors. They still come here to give the mountain honor through offerings.

After our otherworldly visit to Sunset Crater, we seemed to enter yet another world as we continued north. The landscape changed abruptly and become quite flat and rusty red. The highway continued in what seemed like a perfectly straight line with nothing around except for an occasional group of cattle. When we turned west we began to climb again into dirt mountains with no trees, only brush. We climbed slowly until we saw a crack in the ground.

If we weren’t on the road just slightly above the Little Colorado River Gorge, we may have never known it was there. We found a pull off and looked down into the canyon below. We could barely see the bottom and it gave me little butterflies in my stomach. The Little Colorado River is the largest of the tributaries of the bigger Colorado, you know, the grand one. We were getting closer.

We drove up and up. We were surrounded by a sea of funny juniper trees. They are not very tall compared to the giants in the northwest and it just felt like we were on top of something. It is hard to describe this feeling. I kept scooching up in my seat like I might be able to see something in the distance. It was dinner time when we finally reached the Desert View campground just inside the boundary of the National Park. We pitched the tent and made some food in the last of the day’s light and warmed ourselves with prickly pear tea I picked up at the Montezuma Castle gift shop. I also got some deep red sugar-coated prickly pear jelly candy which we had for desert. It was delicious.

The temperature dropped quickly with the sunset and we braced ourselves and Evie for a cold night in the tent. I couldn’t get to sleep right away, not just because of the cold and the tea and the candy, but because of the excitement. Here we were, just the shortest distance away from the edge of the Grand Canyon, but we hadn’t even the tiniest glimpse of it yet. I couldn’t wait for my first ever Grand views in the morning. I felt like a kid on Christmas Eve.

Book Club

Animal Dialogues

My worn paperback copy of The Animal Dialogues lives on the “dad” shelf of my living room bookshelves. Most of the spines happen to be black, brown, or gold (dad colors, right?) and have either been given to me from my dad or remind me of him. Some I picked up on our road trip through Alaska ten years ago, others are his old bird identification books, their covers tattered from use. Most are about wildlife, adventure, or nature in some way, books I’ve read and loved and sent him for his birthday or Fathers Day so he could read them too. A simply framed box, given to me on my 28th birthday, holds four sharply cut arrowheads found by my dad or my grandfather and rests on a pile of books in the center of the shelf. A carefully detailed account of when and where each was found tucked behind the casing. Other little items that my dad has passed onto me through the years are carefully placed between the books like one of his high school report cards (his best grade was in Biology) and an old engineer’s handbooks from the 1940’s. My grandfather was a train engineer and I love flipping through the delicate blueprints of steam locomotive systems that fold out of the books. One could learn much about my dad and his interests from this shelf, and consequently, much about myself and the traits I get from him and my grandfather.

So needless to say,  I was thrilled when mountain guide and adventure writer, Charlotte Austin, recommended reading this book and collaborating with her online book club, Adventure Grapes. I first read this book about a decade ago and I could immediately and vividly recall the Raven and Mountain Lion chapters. I was excited to revisit it and since Craig grew up in Arizona and many of his stories are set there, it would pair nicely with an upcoming road trip to his home state. We planned our May book club outing to Icicle Ridge, a nice early season hike near Leavenworth. Laura invited us to camp at her family’s nearby cabin so I brought the whole family- my husband, Evie, and doggie Nali. It’s been awhile since we’ve all been out on an adventure together.

We were greeted at the cabin with hugs and bug spray. I was secretly hoping that we would have some epic wildlife encounters over the weekend and I was encouraged when I spotted a coyote trotting down the railroad tracks next to highway 2 on our drive to the cabin. BUT, as the saying goes, be careful what you wish for. We did have an epic encounter with an animal highlighted in the book. Unfortunately, it was with a less desirable species: the mosquito. I played it cool for awhile and nonchalantly swatted the bugs while I listened intently to my friends, concentrating on making eye contact and nodding in agreement, uh-huh (slap, slap). This lasted a little while until I couldn’t take it anymore. I  jumped up and really sprayed myself with bug spray this time, hovering the bottle for a long time over my limbs and head. I felt like Craig’s friend who had gone crazy from the mosquitoes in Alaska. We had been at the cabin for approximately 30 minutes. Ugh.

Laura and I and some others who had arrived decided to take refuge in the car and head over to Lake Wenatchee for a short hike while the sun was beginning to set. We lingered along the shoreline, basking in the fresh and bug-free air until we got too hungry and headed back to the cabin for dinner. As we drove, it started unexpectedly raining. Then it rained harder. Our husbands had stayed behind to keep a fire going and we found them huddled on the porch out of the rain. The fire still burned and they found round pieces of bark to place on the fire grate that made perfect little houses to cook our sausages. The rain dispersed the bugs, the porch kept us dry, and we ate via lantern light as we told our own scary wildlife encounters. This was after hearing the news that someone had been killed by a mountain lion that morning in an area where we all regularly hike. It was the first fatal attack by a mountain lion in Washington in nearly 100 years. Sadly, the victim had done everything they were supposed to do. It was a sobering reminder that we too have a place in nature’s food chain.

The next morning we headed to Leavenworth to fuel up on caffeine at the adorable Argonaut Espresso Bar. We met the rest of our group at the Icicle Ridge trailhead and headed up the trail through a thick stand of green maples. The lushness soon gave way to the typical dusty trail lined by ponderosa pine, lupine, and balsamroot (that magical combination again!). It was warm and getting hotter by the minute on the exposed trail. But the views of the Icicle Valley and the Wenatchee River below were getting better and better. I slogged up the switchbacks, happy to have time to clear my mind. That’s the thing about hiking, you don’t have to make many decisions. You just follow the trail. I thought of the part in the book when Craig yearns to be an animal with no plans, no quarrels, just sticks and stones.

It is the wish to be an animal again, to have the eyes that I have lost. No presuppositions. Just sticks and stones. I want something that is gone, something unacceptable, irrational. Where it is known when to sleep, where to seek food, which direction to turn. Where it is understood, without quarrel or reason. I want to lose my fingers and plans and I want to fly.

We gathered at the top of the ridge in the shade and lingered a while. We marveled at our new view of the Wenatchee River raging through Tumwater Canyon, a stark contrast to the lazy version flowing through town. Waterfalls blazed white on the far reaches of the ridge and carved their way down to the river in impressive ribbons. We all agreed that it seemed early for the amount of snow melt happening already this year. We walked along the ridge through balsamroot to the overlook, Leavenworth spread out below, and asked someone to take our picture. We had sunglasses and hats on, full of mosquito bites and sweat. Ah, it felt like summer.

I wanted to share the discussion questions I came up with for Adventure Grapes, you can see them here. I would love to hear your thoughts on the book. It is one of my favorites and brings up so may fascinating questions about our relationship with wild animals. We can’t possibly know what goes on in an animal’s mind, but I know that we are not the first animals to think, remember, love, and see beauty and we should treat them accordingly. As Robin Wall Kimmerer says in her book, Braiding Sweetgrass, we have so much to learn from these species who have been on the earth much longer than us.

The life of an animal lies outside of conjecture. It is far beyond the scientific papers and the campfire stories. It is as true as breath. It is important as the words of children.

 

The Animal Dialogues by Craig Childs

 

Book Ends
Book Club

Skywoman Falling

She fell like a maple seed, pirouetting on an autumn breeze.

I put my hand on my heart, my shoulders relaxed, and took a deep breath. This simple opening sentence to Braiding Sweetgrass invited me in like an old friend or favorite relative. Robin Wall Kimmerer unfolds the origin story like a warm blanket. The woman falls from the sky until she is caught on the wings of geese. They carried her downward until they could no longer hold her above the water that encompassed the earth. Other animals rose to help her: otters, beavers, fish, and a great turtle offered its back to rest on. The others, understanding that she needed land to live on, dove to the bottom of the sea to find land for her. Many tried and failed until a little muskrat gave it a go and after a long while returned with a small handful of mud. The mud grew and grew as the woman gave her thanks for what the animals had done for her. Together they formed what was called Turtle Island.

I can’t help but wonder how the world would be different if we all were told this origin story.

Our book club camping weekend started out much less gracefully. The pirouetting skywoman would have been rudely blown off course if she was heading for the Columbia Gorge on this day. Laura and I stepped into the wind tunnel that would be our home for the next two nights with literally the highest sustaining wind speeds I think I’ve ever felt. We worked together to pitch the tent next to the fence-like structure that may otherwise seem out of place on a non-windy day and made perfect sense on a day like this. It helped. I told Laura the wind would surely die down. It did not. We took refuge in the tent as a few others arrived and even some rain came to keep us on our toes. We were in good company though, and talked books in the tent for awhile.

I wanted to see the shimmering threads that hold it all together. And I wanted to know why we love the world, why the most ordinary scrap of meadow can rock us back on our heels in awe.

The next morning I woke early in the morning. Now that I have a 1-year-old I have apparently (and very reluctantly) become a “morning person” and wake promptly at 5:55am and cannot go back to sleep for the life of me. So I got up and went for a drive up the Dalles Mountain Ranch road to see how the flowers were doing. I found fields of goldenrod and aster. Well, actually it was lupine and balsamroot, but it was the same gold and purple pair that Robin describes with an entire chapter in the book. Science makes these colors attractive to us, and more importantly to bees, so that they will more likely pollinate the flowers. I waded through the tall grass and sat on a rock. I noticed that next to me was a small indentation in the vegetation where the tall grass was laid flat, where another animal took refuge. I contemplated, like Robin, the purpose of beauty and I gave myself space and time. To be grateful. To ponder. To listen to the plants to hear what they had to say.

Beginning with where our feet first touch the earth, we send greetings and thanks to all members of the natural world.

After returning to the group, we headed to the Columbia Hills State Park’s pictograph tour. The wind had calmed down a little bit (thankfully!) and we met more members of our group near some petroglyphs on display. The petroglyphs were carved into the rock by an ancient people about a mile from where we stood in a cave that had been flooded when the Dalles Dam was constructed in 1957. One of many dams of the Columbia River, this is the one that also flooded the famous Celilo Falls, a series of fast-moving cascades through this area of the river. A guide led us to see pictographs, which in contrast to the petroglyphs, are painted onto the rock surface using pigments and dyes created from nearby natural materials. The pictographs vary in age from 300 to 1000 years old and have been preserved in their original locations. These were created by a different group than those that carved the petroglyphs. Our guide told us that the pictographs were most likely painted by young men who went off from the village (located near the river that is also now flooded) up into the hills on vision quests. They would sit in a spot on the rocks for days until they had a vision. They would then draw pictures of their visions which most often came to them as an animal. The animal that appeared to them would give them clues to their strengths. If they saw a skunk, they will be a good parent, if they saw an owl, they would be a good hunter.  We saw owls and bear-like faces, sometimes with zigzags emanating from the animal face. The zigs above the animal connected them to the spirit world, and the zags below grounded them to Mother Earth.

The main attraction here, though, is Tsagaglala, or She Who Watches. She was the chief of the nearby village when Coyote came. Coyote asked her what kind of chief she was and she replied that she taught her people to live well and build good houses. Coyote told her that change was coming to the village, some good and some bad. A new people would come and with them bring tools that you can’t even imagine. But they would also bring death and destruction and women would no longer be chiefs. The chief told Coyote that she wished she could watch over her people forever. Coyote, the trickster, then turned her to stone and said, “now you shall stay here forever, watching over your people and the river.” So surely she’s been watching.

Like Coyote predicted, she watched new people, the Europeans, come to the village and with them death and disease. Our guide told us that they don’t know much about the pictographs and petroglyphs simply because almost the entire tribe of people had been killed by disease. Tsagaglala has also watched the construction of the railroad and later the dams that would flood her beloved people’s homes and history. Our guide was there when the dam flattened the falls in 1957. He was just a boy, but he remembers standing next to the tribal elders as they watched and shed tears.

A major theme of the book is gratitude and I could not have been more grateful for the group we had at Columbia Hills. It was our biggest group outing yet and these women (and one brave and wonderful and kind man) made my heart melt with joy. Each and every person in the group was a badass in their own way and inspired the crap out of me. Some came all the way from Bend, Oregon, some woke in the wee hours of the morning to drive hours and hours to get there on time for the pictograph tour. Some are moms, some are not, some in their twenties, others in their fifties and anywhere in between. We came from many different backgrounds and we all got along so well. You could say we were each a unique strand of sweetgrass that weaved into the perfect basket.

While reading the chapter where Robin describes her youngest daughter leaving for college and her cousin leaving eighteen thoughtful gifts to help her transition to her new life without kids in the house, I cried. It was such a beautiful gesture and I could only hope to have such a thoughtful friend when that time comes for me. I know I have like 16 and 1/2 years to go, but when one of our members brought me a small beautifully woven basket she made and said it was for me, I couldn’t help but think of that story as tears welled in my eyes.

Today we have gathered and when we look upon the faces around us we see that the cycles of life continue. We have been given the duty to live in balance and harmony with each other and all living things. So now let us bring our minds together as one as we give greetings and thanks to each other as People. Now our minds are one.

On Saturday evening we wandered over to Horsethief Butte for a sunset hike. The short trail loops up onto the butte through balsamroot and boulders painted in lichen. Tall grass rustled in the wind at a comforting pitch. At the top, the way opens up into what I can only describe as a cathedral. Massive rocks surround a relatively flat area full of flowers. I immediately felt like I was in a very special place. As we investigated more, we found an area of fallen rocks blocked off with a sign. The sign said that these rocks were not to be disturbed. They must have been special in some way. Maybe they were part of an ancient pictograph? I stood in silence and felt the urge to speak only in whispers. Our group split up and half of us climbed up one side and the rest climbed to the other side as the sun spilled it’s glow on us. We waved to our friends on the other side, silhouetted in the last of the day’s sun rays.

The next morning we headed to the Dalles Mountain Ranch for the grand finale of the trip. Part of the Columbia Hills, the Dalles Mountain Ranch is a large swath of land up in the hills above the Columbia River. The ranch dates back to 1866 with several owners until it was sold to the DNR in 1993. The most interesting thing about the park is the number of deciduous trees despite the arid landscape. The trees were actually planted in response to the Timber Culture Act of 1873 which gave homesteaders an extra 160 acres of land if they planted at least 40 acres with trees. The idea was that trees would bring rain to the area. Of course, this didn’t really work and the idea was later abandoned.

The ranch is still home to lots of deciduous trees and countless numbers of wildflowers. Arrowhead balsamroot and lupine dominated the landscape but there was also phlox, prairie star, desert parsley and countless others. We hiked a loop through the park and ooo’d and aww’d at the views. Mt Hood never quite revealed her full self, but once in a while we’d get a little glimpse of her.

At the end of the hike we said our goodbyes and gave each other hugs. I was a little sad that this amazing weekend was coming to an end, but I was also incredibly happy. We were mostly strangers in the beginning of the weekend and now we left as friends. Robin talks a lot about reciprocity in the book, if you take care of the earth, it will take care of you. This weekend, I’ve learned that this also applies when it comes to friendships. When you are willing to get out of your comfort zone and open up to others, wonderful friendships will blossom.

We are showered every day with gifts, but they are not meant for us to keep. Their life is in their movement, the inhale and exhale of our shared breath. Our work and our joy is to pass along the gift and to trust that what we put into the universe will always come back.

Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer

 

Book Ends

 

         

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