Last weekend it was time for our annual trip to Noble Knob, this time to share our favorite trail with Carlos, Deborah, and our favorite Small Person, Nathan.

In spite of the “mostly sunny” forecast, we spent the approach walking inside of a cloud. A very, very cold cloud. Luckily the trail had lots of eye candy to offer even though Mount Rainier was hiding – all my favorite wildflowers were on display: western anemone, columbine, paintbrush and the always beautiful tiger lily.

We seemed to be right at the cloud line the whole time, and the sun was this close to breaking through…

…but by the time we made it to camp, we were firmly enshrouded in the fog. It felt more like late September than June, and the nutrias, devoid of fur and fat, spent the evening puppy-piled in JK’s sleeping bag. Brrr. Nathan stayed warm in the tent in his sleeping bag and fancy backpacking suit.

But ahh, Noble Knob came through for us yet again! When we peeked out of the tent in the morning, we were above the sea of clouds, the Alpine Lakes Wilderness peaks rising up as jagged islands in the distance.

Now that the sun was out, it was warm enough for Nathan to come out and play. Happiest baby on the rock!

He also got to take a good look at what will likely be his future playground, Mount Rainier.

Wellie and Basil had to pose for photos…

…and I got to engage in my favorite pastime, al fresco reading.

While I reread Wild and Deborah was on baby duty, the boys (minus Nathan) hiked up the Secondary Knob. I took photos of them and tried to make it seem like a harrowing climb…

…but actually it looked like this:

It might have been an easy ascent, but the mosquitoes were ferocious. By the time they made it back to camp, Basil had been gnawed on by so many bugs that his whole face swelled up. Nathan graciously donated some of his Baby Benadryl, and JK and I packed up as fast as we could.

We left the others on the summit since packing up and hiking out with a baby takes a bit longer and we didn’t want to take any chances with Basil. Surprisingly, he didn’t seem bothered by the situation at all, he was his happy self and in full-on explorer mode.

He got lots of sympathy from the White River 50 Mile runners we met along the way, and by the time we got back to the car, the antihistamines had worked their magic and Basil looked almost back to normal. From now on we’ll always carry nutria-appropriate doses of Benadryl (10mg) with us, and put cedar oil on Basil to keep the bugs away. Poor little guy.

JK, Wellie and I hiked to Thorp Lookout for the first time last summer, and it was one of my favorite hikes of the year. I don’t know if it was because of the trail itself or simply because of the timing – we hiked it on the day after the terror attacks in Oslo and what was to be the day before we learned that JK’s dad had passed away. I’ll always remember Thorp as a safe, carefree haven between unbearable amounts of sadness.

This is exactly why we need access to nature – a way to escape “real life”, clear our heads, recharge our batteries, fit extraordinary adventures into our ordinary lives, and restore faith and hope in those moments when the world doesn’t seem to make sense anymore. And this, in turn, is why we’re participating in this year’s Hike-a-Thon fundraiser.

Ok, fine, I also have selfish reasons – I want to hike as much as possible this month and maybe even fit into the sausage casing of a t-shirt they sent me by the end of it – but first and foremost, I hope to raise a little bit of dough for Washington Trails Association to support their trail maintenance and advocacy. If you want to help out, click here or on the picture in the sidebar. Any amount is appreciated (and if you want to join WTA or need to renew your membership, $40 will get you a one-year membership and a subscription to the excellent Washington Trails Magazine)!

Anyhoo, back to Thorp Lookout. Exactly one year later, we returned to that wonderful trail, this time with Dani, Jasper, and of course our lovable new nutria, Basil. Just like last year, we swam in Thorp Lake, one of the warmest alpine lakes I know. We learned that Basil is not a swimmer (and I use that term lightly) like Wellie; he prefers to spend his time rummaging through our packs in search of foodstuffs instead.

Once we were dry and fed, we made our way up to the lookout, enjoying a tremendous wildflower show which I failed to adequately document – you’ll have to go see it for yourselves.

We spent what seemed like hours on the summit, talking, taking photos, taking naps, eating human feces (only Wellie. Dig a cat hole, people!!), evading dog kisses (ugh) and taking in the views and the stillness.

Turns out Thorp is a great escape even when you have nothing to escape from.

After much nagging from friends, JK and I finally drove to Whidbey Island and hiked the Bluff Trail to Ebey’s Landing, lauded by many as their favorite hike. It seemed like the perfect place to take JK’s mom, who was visiting us from Norway.

The hike sure was gorgeous, but I found it somewhat difficult to focus on the views when Basil’s disturbingly bulging thighs were powering along ahead of me. Our new furry (well, not so furry actually) companion looks like a juiced-up bodybuilder!

We adopted the little guy from Italian Greyhound Rescue Northwest, where we also found Wellie in 2009. Basil – British pronunciation, à la Basil Fawlty – is 7 years old and fit as a fiddle, missing a lot of fur and the tips of his ears…but what he lacks in hair and hide, he makes up for in pure snuggliness. He seemed comfortable with us right from the start, and it’s an absolute joy to have two little nutrias running around the house again.

“Me and Wellie was like peas and carrots.”

Ebey’s Landing is definitely going on our list of Excellent Hikes for Visitors, since:

a) It’s purdy.

b) It’s doable for anyone, including a guy who was moving so fast that I didn’t even notice until I was right by him that he had a prosthetic leg. What a badass. He even ran after his kids.

c) It’s in the Olympic rainshadow, so chances are it’s sunny there while we’re being massively rained upon in Redmond.

d) You can refuel at Cove Thai after the hike. So that’s what we did. *rubs belly appreciatively*

…with this…

…and this…

…not to mention this!!

I will be back with road trip tales and details about our newly adopted nutria soon! Well, soonish, anyway.

Eager to finally tackle my annual birthday hike to Iron Peak (see 2010 and 2011) and rescue our Norwegian guest, Jolli, from the soggy Seattle phenomenon known as Juneuary, we packed up the car and sped towards the magical land of the Teanaway.

Crossing Snoqualmie Pass felt like driving through a car wash, but if Tom has taught me anything, it’s that it never rains in the Teanaway. And it didn’t, mostly. We hiked in hot sunshine up to the saddle, somewhat intense wind along the ridge (luckily Wellie didn’t blow away – we would need him later), and enjoyed a light two-minute sprinkle on the summit.

After devouring summit Subway sandwiches and summit Kona Wailua beers, we had time for a satisfying summit snooze before heading back down.

On the way up, we had told Jolli about the different kinds of wildlife we see on hikes here – adorable marmots, majestic bears, and mountain goats that follow you if you separate from your group because they want to lick your salty fluid deposits.

Naturally, we mentioned the fatal goring in Olympic National Park a couple of years ago…which was the first thing that popped into Jolli’s head when he ran into a mountain goat on the way down.

I’ve met a lot of goats throughout my almost five years of hiking in the Cascades and they’ve never really made me nervous, even when they’ve cornered me mid-pee and moved close enough to touch. This one, however, moved right towards us with such speed and determination that it gave me pause.

The boys got their hiking poles ready for battle and I hugged my camera tightly (ALWAYS SAVE THE CAMERA FIRST), but just when the goat got within goring distance of us, Wellie let out a sharp bark which scared the bejesus out of him. The goat literally jumped into the air and ran up the ridge to get away from the terrifying 17-lb canine. Brave Sir Wellie saves the day!!