JK and I stumbled across these prints in a gallery in Winthrop last month, and I decided to buy them as a birthday present for myself. They took me right back to one of my favorite hikes.

We were saddened to hear that the artist, local climber and art teacher Sean McCabe, passed away in 2009, leaving behind his wife and two daughters.

His gallery is full of beautiful artwork from the Cascades, so take a peek if you’re a local mountain lover.

I’m going to hang these canvas prints in our living room, a reminder of our past and future adventures when the weather is dark and dreary, and a nudge to live life fully while we can.

…aka Coulda Woulda Shoulda. Our trail race debuts were supposed to be Yakima Skyline 25K (murderous hills) for JK and Sun Mountain 25K (low elevation gain, rolling hills) for me, but we found ourselves in Maui the weekend of the Yakima race (the horror!), and then I didn’t do anything resembling training in preparation for Sun Mountain. My mind has been elsewhere this spring, and my runs on the Powerline Trail have turned into ambling walks.

Consequently I found myself hiking up Patterson Mountain while JK raced instead of running out there with him. JK hadn’t done much in the way of training either, so he estimated that it would take him 3.5 hours to finish – we agreed that I would be back from my hike after three hours to make sure I wouldn’t miss it.

This gave me enough time to hike part of the Patterson Lake trail (to get a paparazzi shot of JK running), then hike up Patterson and enjoy a leisurely lunch with Wellie on the summit.

The weather was a bit gloomy (Sun Mountain my ass!), so I focused my attention on the ground – I’ve never seen so many spring wildflowers in one place!

After munching on an avocado sandwich (me) and a jerky stick (Wellie), we hiked back to the race headquarters and made it right on time…

…except JK had finished 20 minutes earlier! He totally underestimated himself and finished in a very respectable 2 hours and 39 minutes. Whoop whoop whoop! He didn’t even seem tired, which I find absolutely disgusting.

Maybe next year, when I have finally gotten my act together and am shuffling along on the 25K course, he should try the 50K. We could and we should, right?

My friend Andrea asked me to write a tiny little piece for The Wilderness Society‘s My North Cascades Story, so I decided to share one of my happiest and most meaningful hiking moments yet. You can check it out here.

(If you want more North Cascades larch pr0n, here’s my original blog post from Wing Lake plus Tom’s far superior trip report on nwhikers.net.)

Now onto a much better hike, this time chosen by Dani, who – strangely – doesn’t seem to hate us even after the Bullshizz Bushwhack.

Hidden Lake Lookout is her favorite trail, and after years of talking about hiking there together, we finally did it this weekend.

The trail wends through flowering meadows (in late September – this is a strange year), lingering snow (strange year indeed) and big piles of rocks before reaching the old fire lookout, perched atop the somewhat sinister-looking peak that Dani refers to as the Eye of Sauron:

There’s also a lake, hence the name Hidden Lake Lookout. Unfortunately (or fortunately, since it would have meant extra elevation gain) we couldn’t go swimming since the lake itself is inside the national park boundary where dogs aren’t allowed.

Luckily pooches are permitted all the way up to the lookout, so Wellie and Jasper could enjoy the spectacular views of the North Cascades.

Wellie and Jasper are usually excellent friends until a) Wellie decides that Jasper is too close to his food or b) Jasper’s herding instinct takes over. Good thing Wellie is much faster than that stout bastard.

Summit! (Please don’t fall.)

The views from the lookout were incredible – the next time we go here, it will hopefully be to spend the night. Sleeping in the Park Butte Lookout stands out as one of my favorite hiking experiences, so I don’t know why we haven’t made the effort to snooze in more of these fantastic shacks.

The number one (or number two, depending on your needs) reason to visit Hidden Lake Lookout? The most glorious toilet experience you will ever have. Now that’s what I call poo with a view.

After eating, relaxing and gawking at the peaks in every direction, we moseyed back down towards the car.

The weather had been perfectly summery all day, but on the way out a big, grey cloud started moving in and we even felt some raindrops. I guess it really was the first hike of autumn, even though the trail was lined with wildflowers instead of huckleberries (seriously, it’s been a strange year).

In light of everything that’s happened lately, I’ve been reevaluating my life and my priorities.

I moved here in 2006, severely depressed. In 2007 I discovered hiking, and it sparked a new interest in, well, living.

Since then, my life has pretty much revolved around being outside in the mountains. I spend the whole year planning for the summer. I spend the whole week waiting for the weekend.

The problem with this is that I am devastated when those plans don’t work out.

When it’s raining, I spend the day stewing over lost hiking opportunities instead of going into Seattle to spend time with long-neglected friends.

When I’m injured, I obsess about missing out on the more challenging trips on my To-Do List instead of fully enjoying the easier, gimp-safe trail I’m on.

I want to truly enjoy my life and be here now without constantly wondering if there’s something better out there that I could be doing.

I want to make my everyday life feel fulfilling even though I am still not allowed to get a job or an education in this country. *mumble grumble*

I want to find the motivation for midweek endorphin boosts that don’t require a drive to the mountains.

I want a home (and a life) that’s inviting enough that I don’t feel like I have to get away from it every weekend.

I want a balanced life, both in and outside of the mountains.

I want to find smiles like these every day.