We had our sights set on the classic Mount Catherine Loop, and chose to do it the cheater’s way by hitching a ride on the Silver Fir chairlift. Our official excuses are as follows:

– We wanted to sleep in.

– We had to be back in town early in time for the Ingrid Michaelson show.

– We have season passes, so it would be silly not to take the lift, right?

– I was so. sore. from my run the day before.

…fine, we’re really just lazy.

Avoiding most of the elevation gain by taking the lift up is actually a bad choice for me since I greatly prefer going uphill and, as I have documented before, I should not be allowed to go downhill on cross-country skis. Also, I’ll never know how I managed to get off the chairlift on those twigs without falling in the first place.

We both LOVED this route. Lots of pretty vistas all around, no steep hills (there was only one fall/pole-impalement incident), and two excellent warming huts – not that we needed them. It was a bit breezy, but the sun kept us nice and toasty during our lunch break.

(I refuse to carry the camera when I ski – given my perpetual fight against gravity – so most of these photos are of me posing awkwardly in front of things, none of JK in action. He would have been a much better representation of the Norwegian spirit. Even though he’s technically Polish. Whatever.)

Did I say it was breezy? Ok, so it was windy as all hell, but this actually worked in my favor as my normally disastrous downhill run was slowed significantly by the headwind, giving me a semblance of control. Success!!

Oh, and the Ingrid Michaelson pop-up show that night was fantastic. Very intimate, low-key, and fans-only. It was refreshing to go to a concert where people actually shut up and listen to the music. I’m looking at you, annoying people behind me at Florence and the Machine!! A concert is not the place for you insipid first-date banter.

Anyhoo, back to my run last Friday. There was sunshine. In early February. I wore a t-shirt! I discovered a new (to me) trail system off the Powerline. I experienced an endorphin rush so intense that it made me run much farther than I probably should have given my current physical shape…and I realized that if running is capable of giving me this kind of a buzz, I really need to do it more often. Maybe I really should sign up for a race, something to motivate me to get out on that Powerline Trail even now that the weather is back to its normal, dreary self. The Sun Mountain 25K in May, perhaps?

*well that can’t be a good sign.

JK (and Wellie, who by default won both the canine division and the age 1-5 group) signed up to sweep the course (run behind the last racer and make sure that everyone gets off the course safely) while I was part of the aid station crew on top of Mount Constitution. Sweet!! The view was surprisingly good given the weather (but check out the view from the aid station during the 50K race the following weekend – them bastards stole our sunshine!), and we were kept busy supplying the runners with food, drinks, and electrolytes.

Helping out at the aid station was lots of fun, trying to anticipate what the runners might need (hot soup? blister pads? an excuse to stop and rest for a few minutes?), attempting to make PB&J sandwiches with frozen peanut butter and watching the front of the pack zoom past us even at the top of that monster of a hill.

As I stood there in my humongous puffy jacket trying to keep warm in the hail/snow/murderous ice pellets, I was secretly pleased with myself for not being one of those poor runners out on the course…but when they started pouring into the aid station, looking absolutely elated (well, most of them), I realized they were the lucky ones. I also realized that I really really do want to run a race like this one day.

Between the beautiful course (even in this weather), mellow vibe, excellent post-race meal party with live music and, if I do say so myself, a fabulous aid station, I would love to come back and race this in the future. JK has his sights set on the 50K next year, so it looks like we’ll both have to start training.

(Yes, there’s an infant swaddled safely somewhere inside that grey blob.)

Given all the trail miles he had logged in utero, at ten weeks old it was high time Nathan went on his first snowshoe. Until he can walk on his own (and use these amazing Snowpaw Snowshoes), he’ll get free rides with his parents, marsupial-style.

Carlos and Deborah had the perfect destination in mind – the Grand Junction Warming Hut, part of the Snoqualmie Nordic trail system. We hiked from Silver Fir, past Hyak Lake, over the river and through the woods to the hut.

Perfect destination indeed. The hut was heated by a wood-burning stove which allowed Nathan to escape from his snuggly cocoon for all his feeding and changing needs.

This was at the tail end of the Snowpocalypse, but the little nugget slept through the whole trek though the snowstorm. At the hut, he wasn’t fussy at all – but then again he is the most laid-back baby of all time. He just sat there wide-eyed and cooing while JK and I perfected our baby-sniffing technique.

Once Nathan was bundled back up in his adorable snowsuit, we ventured out into the deep powder (I know, deep powder in the Cascades…whaaaa?) and retraced our steps back to the Silver Fir parking lot. An excellent outing for children big and small!

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.)

I love not having to drive to the mountains for a wildernessish experience. What’s the point of fighting traffic on slick roads when good old Nike Park has transformed into a winter wonderland?

Ironically our Wednesday evening ski class was cancelled due to the snow, so we satisfied our adrenaline cravings by sledding in Meadow Park with Carlos and Deborah and our respective offspring.

The highlight of the week was our Cross-Country Ski Tour de Redmonde. We’ve skied in our little town before, but that was before we knew about the wonderful Powerline Trail about a mile from our house. I’ve been wanting to ski that sucker for YEARS, and it did not disappoint. I only fell once!

All in all we’ve covered about 30 miles of walking and skiing so far this week, which I’m hoping will make up for the elevated levels of baking brought on by the snow. Damn you, snickerdoodles!!

Maybe Wellie will be able to find his ball before the next Snowpocalypse hits.

*a doozy for a region that owns something like five snowplows total.

I didn’t bring any water since I’m trying to train myself to drink less during short distances, so near the end when I started feeling parched, I resorted to swallowing little slurps of post-nasal drip. I kid, I kid! (Sort of.) By Monday my cold was gone and I felt human again.

1) Write more trip reports | A gloriously unquantifiable resolution. I’ll just say I failed, mostly.

2) Not freak out if I miss out on trips | I actually worked hard on this one and have become much more comfortable spending weekends in the city or on lowland trails. Or maybe I just lost my sense of adventure.

3) Lose weight | I happily ignored this one until I came home from Utah in late October and saw video footage of myself. Gadzooks! I’m starting 2012 20 lbs lighter than 2011, so I would call this a success…but it obviously still needs work.

So to keep working on all of these resolutions, I plan to dust off my blog and post all our adventures, big and small. It’s ok if I only have crappy cell phone photos (see below) and it’s just a quick run in the Watershed or the Issaquah Alps. Anything goes.

Last Saturday was actually my first time out of the house in days; I had spent most of the week hibernating with a stubborn cold. Everything from the neck up was still stuffy and runny and generally charming, but my body and mind were getting restless. JK and I decided a short run on Cougar Mountain was in order to clear our sinuses.

It was my first real workout since our pre-Christmas xc ski to Tipsoo Lake, so it was shocking that my body even remembered how to move. JK’s body seemed to remember it a little bit better than mine (and he’s training for a trail race), so he ran the hills and doubled back to me for extra elevation gain while I slowly shuffled along, feeling like I was going to die. In a good way, though. Sort of.

Hiker in training | I have no words for how cute Carlos and Deborah’s brand new tiny human is, and he’s already been on his first hike. Maybe I’ll finally have a trail partner I can keep up with!

Mike’s birthday weekend in Whistler | I’ve never skied with views this beautiful or runs this long. My legs felt like they were going to fall off, but a huge smile was stuck to my face all weekend.

Winter Warmth Concert | The Head and the Heart and Florence and the Machine in one night? Oh yes, yes indeed.

Annual Skyline Ridge snowshoe | We were hoping for a repeat of last year’s gloriousness, but got skunked on the weather. Meh, who needs views when you have a picnic of gingerbread cookies and hot toddy with your beloved!

Winter Solstice TNAB | Snowshoeing to Hyak Lake in the dark to celebrate the Turning by consuming copious amounts of gløgg (and some sort of sinister blue liquid) with a group of lunatics. A holiday favorite!

Christmas Cabin | We have spent many a happy weekend at Tom and Dani’s cabin this past year, culminating in a Yuletime feast of shcnow schnow, white elephant gifts (we scored a Go Girl and a dancing gopher) and general happyfuntime with some of my favorite people.

Cross-country skiing to Tipsoo Lake | 11 miles round trip on Highway 410 (on day two of a migraine, no less). I confirmed once again that I love skiing uphill while going back down is absolutely terrifying. Will put in an official request for a) skis with metal edges and b) a sizable pair of cojones.

Christmas with the family | After spending our last three Christmaseseses alone, JK and I (and Wellie!) loved celebrating with my parents again! Unfortunately we all contracted some sort of plague and spent most of our time sniffling on the couch, but at least it’s better to sniffle together than alone.

The Hunger Games | The only good thing about the plague was that it gave me an excellent excuse to obsessively plow through the entire Hunger Games trilogy in three days. I know I must be the last person in the world to discover these, but holy mackerel, what a story!

The Hangover NWHikers Style from sKareCrowe Films on Vimeo.

I really need to stay behind the camera.

Once in a while the weather cooperates and we can pretend that we don’t live in the American version of Bergen. Other times the monsoon will be out in full force and the poor out-of-towners can stay here for weeks on end without catching as much as a glimpse of our beautiful mountains. To this day, my brother thinks Mount Rainier is a figment of my imagination.

Luckily Marthe and Olle timed their visit perfectly with a stretch of unseasonably clear autumn weather, so in addition to touring Discovery Park, the Space Needle, and Pike Place Market, JK and I lured them down to Mount Rainier National Park for a hike, buttering them up (literally) with donuts along the way.

Actually, if you stay at our house you are contractually obligated to go hiking with us. Consider it rent.

Rent in the form of amazing views…

…and wildlife encounters. Foxes!

Black Bears!!

Cascade Mountain Gorillas!!!

We hiked through the fresh snow up to Panorama Point. JK and I have been there, oh, about 756 times before, but we still love it. Especially when we get to share this piece of our new life with people from our old life.

My brother needs to come back and see that we’re not making this stuff up.

Curried White Bean Stew:

1) Heat (medium) 1 tablespoon or so of olive oil. Stir in 1 tablespoon curry powder (I use Simply Organic Curry Powder)
2) Stir in 1 chopped onion, 3 cloves finely chopped garlic, 1 tablespoon grated ginger and your preferred amount/type of chili pepper (I like this stew spicy!)
3) When onion is softened, add 1 can diced tomatoes, 1 cup vegetable broth, 1 chopped red bell pepper and 2 cans rinsed white beans
4) Stir and let simmer until reduced to your preferred stew thickness. I like to add 1-2 cups of chopped fresh spinach towards the end, then smash things up a little bit with a potato masher
5) Salt and pepper to taste!

Garlicky Mushrooms and Kale:

Follow the recipe from Appetite for Reduction (change amount depending on how much kale you want). The recipe is also available here.

I usually reheat some stew in the microwave, then top with 1 tablespoon ground flax seeds (for healthy fatz) and stir in the kale mix. Very chewy, flavorful, filling, warming and perfect for cold November days.

Well that’s a lie, as I have definitely not been neglecting the internet, but I have neglected this blog.

I only seem to post trip reports here these days, and lately not even that (this is related to my impressive procrastination skillz when it comes to processing photos). I’m having trouble deciding what to share on this blog, how personal to make it. My favorite bloggers share a lot of themselves and that’s what makes their writing interesting, at least to me…but then I get self-conscious, knowing that so many people from my non-interwebs life read this. You know, all the people who, unlike you, don’t live inside my computer.

On a totally unrelated note, I’ve been thinking a lot about Everest lately, namely trekking to Everest Base Camp. I’ve wanted to do this ever since I read Into Thin Air (though I realize that any sane person would be motivated to stay as far away from Everest as possible after reading that book) back in ’07, but I assumed it would never happen since JK shows no interest in spending his hard-earned vacation time freezing, hypoxic, and riddled with food poisoning. Then it occurred to me, why not just go on my own? Join a guided tour and meet some like-minded mountain lovers while sharing a bowl of dal bhat by the cozy heat of burning yak dung?

I’m turning 30* next year, so methinks it’s time for one last hurrah before I qualify for Medicare.

*holy crap!

We hiked through freezing water and endured the traumatizing smell of wet rental neoprene booties…

…drove down an absolutely mental “road” of deep sand and sharp rocks to see some of the most beautiful rock formations in the world…

…slithered (some more gracefully than others) through muddy slot canyons…

…and backpacked in the desert with only one minor quicksand incident.

I’ll write an installment of trip reports when I get all my photos up, but for now I just want to thank mah ladeez for one of the best vacations I’ve ever been on.

I’m still smiling.

This has led to many a missed adventure, especially this summer. Fortunately my friends are patient, forgiving, and incredibly kind. And, magically, they are able to turn a somewhat mundane hike along I90 into one of the best afternoons I have had in a long time.

Thanks, friends, for not letting me sink.

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).

Back in August, Dani and I were somehow suckered into accompanying JK on what he assured us was one of his favorite hikes from last year, a partly off-trail loop connecting some lakes in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness.

The talus field up to Island Lake doesn’t look that long, but it seemed to go on for miles and miles and miles and miles. The heat, the bugs, and the exhausting effort of raising and lowering my corpulent self up and over several million* boulders compounded to make an even grumpier Ingunn than usual.

I don’t mind bushwhacking or talus-hopping – to a certain degree, mind you – since it usually gets you to beautiful places that aren’t often visited. But this? This brought us to Island and Rainbow Lakes, two wooded bodies of water easily reached by the smooth, well-maintained trail we hiked on the way back. Who on earth wants to bushwhack through devil’s club and stumble over boulders for miles on end for no apparent reason? More importantly, who on earth is stupid enough to go along when their husband suggests doing just that??

Oh well, at least the swimming was good.

See that steep part on the map below Island Lake? That’s where we crawled straight up, using veggie belays (which we soon learned were not to be trusted) and digging our fingers into the loose dirt for traction, some of us (ok, just me) hyperventilating with sheer panic, only to reach an unspectacular lake inhabited by several relaxed hikers who had moseyed in on the actual trail.

JK doesn’t get to pick hikes anymore.

*srsly.

In the meantime, I don’t have enough space on my laptop to process our new RAW files…so here are my cell-phone photos from the trip.

JK spent last week in Anaheim at a conference (his talk is available here in case you’re nerdily inclined), and I flew down to meet him on Thursday. I amused myself by the pool while he finished up his conference duties, and on Friday afternoon we drove up to Santa Barbara. We spent ’04/’05 at UCSB, and this would be my first trip back to the place we used to call home.

Our old friend Justin let us stay at his place AND he took us hiking. Good man. He even made sure to take us to the drier, sunnier wine country so we would escape the dreaded marine layer which appeared to have followed us from Seattle. Luckily it had cleared up by the end of the day, so we were able to stockpile lots of vitamin D for winter.

We also took a boat out to Anacapa Island, part of Channel Islands National Park. Why did we never go here when we lived so close?? It was so pretty that I want to go back for kayaking in spite of all the great white sharks. Maybe.

An inordinate amount of time was spent eating as we visited several of our favorite vegetarian restaurants in Santa Barbara and Santa Monica. I usually lose weight when I’m on vacation, but it quickly became evident that this was not to happen this time around.

The gorging continued on our flight home since we flew jetBlue. That means BLUE CHIPS, which we can never find in the store anymore (probably a good thing) and which taste even better when you’re cruising above Yosemite during sunset. The perfect ending to an excellent trip.

I randomly chose the Northern Loop Trail from my guidebook, and scored walk-in permits for the exact two camps I wanted.

I started out nervous. I’ve backpacked solo before, but only for one night…and on a trail I already knew. This trip would cover all sorts of new ground for me.

JK accompanied me as far as Skyscraper Mountain, then released me into the wild on my own. I loved it. Going at my own pace, stopping wherever I wanted, strolling past flowers and glaciers and marmots and, oh, that big volcano.

I moseyed on up to my first camp by Mystic Lake and had dinner (ugh, those Mountain House meals are way too big for one person) and a swim before snuggling up with my Kindle in the tent. Bliss.

Right before dawn, I woke up to the sound of bugling elk (I didn’t know this until I asked the ranger “What’s the animal that sounds like a cross between a coyote and an elephant?”) and the oh so familiar nauseating pounding of a migraine – the aura must have occurred while I was sleeping, so it was too late for my medication to be effective. Ugh.

I knew I wouldn’t be able to make the climb up to Yellowstone Cliffs that day (or the 16-mile hike out the next day), so I spent some time looking at my maps to find a bailout option. In the end I decided on a very easy downhill day to Carbon River Camp, then keep following the Wonderland Trail out to Mowich Lake the next day – via Spray Park or Ipsut, depending on how I felt.

Luckily the ranger patrol cabin by Mystic Lake was manned (and handsomely so). The ranger radioed in to change my permit and to get someone to contact JK to tell him to drive to Mowich instead of Sunrise. Thank you, ranger man!

Now I just had to stagger down to my next camp. I lazed around with the myriad marmots (and mosquitoes) along the way, but spent most of the miles worrying about crossing the Carbon River on the evil suspension bridge. I had seen photos of the Tahoma Creek suspension bridge before, and assumed that this one would be just as horrifying.

Fortunately I needn’t have worried; the bridge was fun, even for a weenie like me. Huzzah!

I made it to camp at 1 PM, no other humans in sight. I collapsed in my tent and spent the rest of the day reading, sleeping, drinking as much water as possible and trying to eat something.

The next morning I woke up feeling so much better. I felt hung over from the migraine (or maybe it was from all the drugs), but good enough to chose the high route over Spray Park.

The day started off with over 3000 feet of elevation gain, so I decided to wear my Merrell Pace Gloves – I had brought them to use as camp shoes – to lighten the load on my feet. This worked brilliantly; even in my sickly state I felt great during the climb. I think I can thank those shoes for making me feel so light on my last TNAB, too.

Soon enough I made it to Spray Park and was greeted by bug swarms of biblical proportions – I finally got to show off my fashionable new headwear – and lots of dayhikers. Clearly I was getting closer to civilization and the end of my journey.

I tried to freshen up and wash off the trail grime by swimming in Mowich Lake, but when JK arrived to pick me up he assured me that I smelled as if I had hiked the entire Wonderland Trail. And I really do wish I had. I loved the trail, bugs and migraine and all. Next year, perchance?

My friend just posted this on Facebook and I found it fitting, given the title of my post and all:

‎”Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?”
“That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,” said the Cat.
“I don’t much care where–” said Alice.
“Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,” said the Cat.
“–so long as I get SOMEWHERE,” Alice added as an explanation.
“Oh, you’re sure to do that,” said the Cat, “if you only walk long enough.”

I also restrained myself from getting physically violent when he showed up almost 40 minutes late for our Thursday Night Afterburners hike, although the following exchange may have occurred in the car:

JK: “Remember, breathe, relax and Be Here Now…”
Ingunn: “Well, maybe next week you could Be Here on Time.”

Oh well, in spite of not getting my usual head start, I felt better on that hike than I have ever felt on a TNAB before. Come to think of it, I felt better than I have on trail all summer. For some reason I could finally keep a sustained high heart rate without feeling like an exertion migraine was right around the corner. I was obviously still the last person to make it to the summit, but who cares – I felt like I was flying.

*mostly.

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.

News started ticking in about an explosion in Oslo. Live tweets from desperate teenagers trapped on an island with a gunman. 77 innocent people killed in my beautiful, tiny country.

Then, two days later, a heartbreaking phone call from home. JK’s dad had passed away. Peacefully so, but still much, much too soon.

We boarded the next plane to Norway to spend time with our family and say our goodbyes.

I’ve had this drained, empty, hollow feeling inside of me ever since that Friday, and I’m having a hard time coming to terms with everything that’s happened.

Fearing a relapse into can’t-get-out-of-bed depression, JK and I decided to get out this weekend to clear our heads.

I don’t believe in a god, but when I’m outside, surrounded by towering peaks, blooming meadows, romping marmots and crystal-clear lakes, I feel so close to whatever life force it is that keeps this world turning.

I don’t know if this force is in nature or in the ether or inside of all of us, but I do know that whenever I connect with it, the world finally starts making sense again.

We hiked, we swam, we breathed, we talked, we were quiet together. We’re both saddened by the fact that JK’s dad never got to visit us in Washington. I could picture him sitting right there with us on Noble Knob, painting the beautiful scene in front of us.

After sunset we lit candles under the full moon. Suddenly we saw a shooting star, impossibly clear, right above Mount Rainier. Maybe he was there with us after all.

Big thanks to our friend who volunteered to take Wellie on such short notice, and to all the others that reached out to us over the last couple of weeks. It helps to know that we have friends like you.

For someone who struggles with depression and whose only* source of sustained joy is to be active in the outdoors, this has been a miserable year. Last week it seemed like summer (make that “spring”) had finally arrived, so when the freezing wetness returned (and is forecast to hang around until the end of July), I just broke down and haven’t moved from the couch in almost two days. My blind love affair with the Evergreen State is officially over.

Unfortunately, my attempts at convincing JK that we need to move to California have been fruitless. He loves his job. That’s not something you can let go of in the current economic climate, so I guess we’ll be staying here in the Pacific Northwest climate.

Adding insult to injury, the chilly weather has put our snow melt at least a month behind schedule. Sick of postholing, soggy shoes and rotten snow bridges, last weekend (before the sun defected) I was desperate for a trail, any trail, that was snow-free. JK and I decided on Goat Lake, a typical early season (as in May, not July) hike.

I had really low expectations of this hike, so I was surprised to find a beautiful river trail ending at a big, green, inviting alpine lake. I couldn’t resist the clear water and jumped in for a swim, followed by JK and Wellie.

Aah, we were so naïve, thinking our alpine swimming meant that summer had arrived. Wellie even ate watermelon to celebrate the changing of the seasons.

Hopefully the sun will come back, more lakes will melt, and this won’t be the only summery trip report I write this year. In the meantime I’ll try to roll off the couch and motivate myself to make the best of what I’ve got. The honeymoon period may be over, but apparently Washington and I are in it for the long term.

*ok, so JK counts too, but he doesn’t get to be on the list since he’s standing in the way of my relocation plans.

Last weekend (not the holiday weekend – I’m behind on photos as usual), JK, Wellie and I camped in the Teanaway and got our first real taste of Summer 2011…and an even better taste of a Norwegian campfire classic, stick bread. I’ll blog about it later so y’all can partake.

On Sunday we rolled out of camp at the crack of noon to hike up Bean Peak. Mmm, beans…I’m thinking of making a Favorite Foods Peak List, but so far I only know of Bean Peak and the Chocolate Glacier. Hopefully there’s an Avocado Ridge out there somewhere.

Anyhoo, we hiked up to the basin and scrambled up the southeast ridge. There were two moves that really got my heart pumping, but then again I am a certified weenie. I’m always anxiously picturing the worst possible outcome of any given situation.

Thankfully the rock was nice and grippy, and I know that every time I push myself like this, I’ll be just that little bit stronger and braver next time.

After a snack and some oohing and aahing over the views, Wellie and I had ourselves a good, old-fashioned summit snooze. Pure bliss.

We spent over an hour on the summit, then decided to descend the easier southwest gully. Unfortunately it ended up being much harder than the way up due to melting moats and very steep snow.

It didn’t help that we, being dumbasses, had left our hiking poles at the base of the southeast ridge and our ice axes stashed safely in the car. I got to do my first ever face-in downclimb with nothin’ but my bitten-down talons for purchase on the snow. I wish I had a photo of it, but I snapped angrily at JK when he tried to pull the camera out mid-climb.

As terrifying (I told you, I’m a weenie) as that downclimb was, it didn’t take long before I longed to go back and do it again. When we were snailing along in I90 vacation traffic on the way back to civilization, there was nothing I wanted more than to (grab my ice axe and) run for the hills.

He was cleared for hiking just in time for the summer solstice, so we headed up our standard after-work trail to Poo Poo Point. This was my sixth hike to Poo Poo so far this year, which seems a bit silly, but there’s just nothing else that beats the close to home/short trail/great views combo.

The north launch point was packed with paragliders and solstice picnicers, so we joined in and devoured our dinner of quinoa with lots of broccoli and Mmmm Sauce (Wellie got to lick the bowl, he’s a great dishwasher) and strawberries.

We digested for a bit before walking back down to the south launch point to catch the amazing alpenglow on Mount Rainier…

…and then back up to the north point for sunset proper. Ooh, aah!

We descended by headlamp as usual and were accompanied by millions* of mosquitoes. I guess that makes it official – summer has arrived!

*approximately

Unfortunately (for everyone except fungus-phobic Tom) there wasn’t a morel to be found on the trail, and we could confirm, yet again, that summer will come late to the mountains this year. %#$@!!

Oh well, who needs morels when you can lounge on top of Iron Peak for hours, eating cupcakes, drinking wine, burning your scalp to a crisp (I’ll wear a hat next time), all while taking in a gorgeous panoramic view of the Teanaway!

Even Josie, who had forgotten her boots and was sporting soggy trainers (with cardboard inserts!) from the Cle Elum Farm & Home Store, couldn’t keep a smile off her face.

Thank you, friends (and Jasper), for such a wonderful birthday party. Maybe this whole growing old business isn’t such a bad thing after all.

Last year JK organized a surprise hike to Poo Poo Point (along with said gang of geriatrics) on my birthday, and I loved celebrating by hiking. This year there was no sneaky planning needed; my aging would occur on a Thursday and TNAB was headed for Pratt Mountain.

I felt sprightly and fabulous all the way to Talapus Lake, but then we started actually hiking uphill instead of strolling along on mellow switchbacks. Suddenly all those old folks were miles ahead of me as I wheezed and moaned my way up the ridge.

At long last I reached the summit and was rewarded with views of the vast nothingness. At least the others took pity on me and waited to make sure I made it into the group shot (and got me tipsy at the Pour House afterwards).

Did I say that I still feel young? Maybe not so much after this hike.

(My birthday present was one o’ them fancy GPS gizmos! It looks like I’ll actually have to read the manual for this thing since that straight line you see in the track extends all the way to Taiwan – presumably the home of the Garmin factory. 18,000 feet of elevation gain? That’s one hell of a TNAB!)

After spending much of this spring (officially the worst spring of all time, I might add) on the couch due to illness and/or weather-related malaise, I returned from Norway all pumped up and ready to get back in mountain shape and strengthen my clearly inadequate immune system.

Wellie had other plans. The morning after we returned, we had to take him to the vet for surgery to treat an anal gland abscess. I’ll spare you the details, but I can assure you that it’s just as pleasant as it sounds. We had to stay close to home the first five days post-surgery, foiling my Teanaway camping plans. Dumb dog!!

Sensing an impending meltdown, JK volunteered to take over all nursing duties on Saturday so that I could bask in the sunshine with Amy on a short hike to Talapus Lake. It was like chicken soup for the soul. Or phở for the soul, since I don’t eat chicken (but am somewhat obsessed with phở).

On Sunday JK and I went for a trail run (well, a walk/fast shuffle for me) in the Redmond Watershed Preserve. By the time we came back, Wellie had managed to wriggle out of his cone and pull the drainage tube out of his butt. Dumb dog!!

Luckily there was no lasting damage, so the tube remnants were removed on Monday. Wellie has to keep wearing the Cone of Shame for a week and a half, but now it’s tightened and we can at least leave him alone and get out of the house. That’s exactly what we did, hurrying up to Poo Poo Point to catch the last rays of sunshine before the rain returned.

Unfortunately, all I could think about on the trail was how much more fun it is to hike when you’re with your dumb dog.

Get well soon, Conehead!

These are from our deliciously self-indulgent layover in Iceland. We spent the entire day soaking our jetlagged bodies in the Blue Lagoon.

Since it was a long vacation and our friends and families were busy working on weekdays, we flew up north to Lofoten for five days of hiking and camping.

This didn’t exactly turn out as planned, but more on that later (2019).

So yes, check back in 2020 for the full documentation of our trip. Or 2021 at the latest.

I thought my crafty days were over, but once in a while I’ll get hit with the urge to make something. It’s good to have a rainy day hobby when you live in Washington, right?

This morning, inspired by some old videos I found of Bobby, I dug a tunnel into the Room o’ Paper (and Assorted Homeless Items) and put together this simple page about our farewell hike to Noble Knob last summer. It’s pretty much just a paper version of the blog post I wrote back then, but it’s nice to have a real, tactile version of our favorite memories.

I also found (among the Hoarders-style stacks of junk) this old dog-themed album and decided it’s time to make the pups their very own album. This is exactly the kind of mental thing that only the very bored and childless would do.

I’m sure Wellie will love having his very own scrapbook he can cherish forever and, as Tom said, “show his grandkids photos of the fat white and black dog he used to hike with.”

You see, the weather here in the Pacific Northwest tends to be a little bit wet. You’d think that we would be used to it by now, but two months straight of rain can drive even the most hardened Washingtonian mental.

So why do we still live here? Well, once in a blue moon the raindrops stop dripping, the sun starts shining, and Washington becomes the most beautiful place the world has ever seen. Everyone promptly forgets about the preceding weeks of hell and flock outside to revive their vitamin D deficient bodies.

JK and I spent our day in Paradise smiling, relaxing, laughing, snoozing in the sun and taking in the views. JK was on skis while I trudged along on my slowshoes, but I think the luge run off Panorama Point is just as fun on ass as on skis.

Washington sure knows how to put on a show when she puts her mind to it.

*sorry, I couldn’t resist.

Clammy.

Soggy.

Muddy.

That is all.

My parents tend to visit us during official Norwegian holidays like Christmas and Easter, smack dab in the middle of monsoon season. So when the asked if they could come in early fall, I was excited to show them the Pacific Northwest at its finest. Unlike their previous visits, they got to see Washington in full color instead of grey – and look!! Ginormous volcanoes all around us!

The most ginormoustest of them all, Mount Rainier, couldn’t possibly have provided us with better conditions for our hike to Panorama Point.

It was my first day back on trail since I pulled a muscle in the Enchantments, so I was in full-on giddy mountain mode; my dad got to stalk marmots and deer with his new, fancy camera; my mom was absolutely enthralled by the mountain (see, I told you it’s magic!); and JK kept bursting into evil laughter every time he thought about his coworkers who were stuck in the office. Moahahaa!

My parents turned around at Glacier Vista to mosey on down the meadows and check out the Paradise Visitor Center while JK and I hoofed it up to Pan Point.

This was our first time hiking around Paradise sans snow. Everything looked the same, but somehow…different. At least now I could wear shorts, which is always a plus.

We looped back down to Paradise and found my parents waiting in the waning sunlight, then decided to drive the long way home around the mountain.

Another highlight of my parents’ visit was our weekend road trip to Portland. There were outdoor markets and big bookstores and good eats, but since I apparently never take photos in urban settings, here are photos from day two, when we went on a waterfall tour and drove out to the coast (wow, that was a lot of commas…and I’m sure none of them were used correctly).

I don’t think I’ve ever seen Wellie happier than when he was playing fetch on Cannon Beach. Those little feet were made to run in the sand.

Unfortunately my mom was coming down with the Flu of Doom (it got all of us before the month was over), but I think she enjoyed herself anyway. Not so sure what she thought about the weird little hippie cafe we took them to though. ;^)

Sunset somewhere along the way home. Sometimes you just have to pull over.

After the roaring success of taking JK’s mom to the Space Needle in the summer (hey, I never blogged about that, either. I suck at this!), we hit the jackpot again with a gorgeous sunset dinner. And lavender beer. Mmm.

This was my favorite parental visit yet. Hopefully they’ll come back to visit their grandson (don’t get excited – I’m talking about Wellie!) again soon, and, if we’re lucky, maybe the weather and views will treat us just as well as they did this time around (there I go with the commas again [and with the parentheses]).

Now I think my parents finally understand why we love it here in Washington and why we never want to leave…but that certainly doesn’t mean we don’t miss all of you guys back home.

JK spent the day at climbing instructor training in the Washington Alpine Club’s cabin on Alpental Road, so he dropped me off at the Kendall Peak Lakes trailhead and left me to my own devices. I had forgotten how much I love hiking by myself. I get all calm and happy and zen and junk, and the miles fly by effortlessly. I actually hike faster when I’m alone, because I go at my own pace and don’t have to keep stopping to gasp for air. JK says it probably helps that I’m not “wasting energy on worrying about what other people think”, which sounds about right.

The only downside to hiking by myself was having to use the self-timer on my camera – next time I’ll try to remember my mini tripod and, uhm, some skillz.

I hiked to the two lower lakes, hit some extra bumps on the ridge, then headed over to Kendall Knob and back to the trailhead. I still had lots of time to kill, so I walked up to Hyak and took the ski shuttle to Summit West. I wandered around Commonwealth Basin for a bit before walking to the WAC cabin where my chauffeur husband was finishing up his training.

Now that spring has sprung and the days are getting longer, it’s easier to motivate JK to go for post-work hikes. We’ve also made a deal that instead of rejoining the gym, we’re going to make an effort to get up in them thar hills more often. On Tuesday we revisited an old (and close to home) favorite, Poo Poo Point, to take advantage of the sun(!) and the natural stairmaster that is the Chirico Trail.

The sunset didn’t let us down, and I got a better cardio session than I ever would in a gym. Apparently I need it, because after I had huffed and puffed and wheezed and moaned my way to the top, JK let me know that he didn’t even break a sweat. Great.

Every year I promise myself that I am going to get in shape for TNAB, and every year I fail to do anything of the sort. The season started last night with a mercifully gentle jaunt to Dirty Harry’s Balcony. Unfortunately this was the only (in my eyes) easy hike on the TNAB schedule this year, so you can start placing bets on how long it’ll take before I hurl on a hike again.

My husband and best friend and adventure partner turns old and grey and thirty today. Happy birthday, JK – it’s all downhill from here, so just strap on those skis and go!

Jeg elsker deg, Gapo!

As we were making our way up US2 under blue skies, I expressed my concern that my laziness and general ineptitude was keeping us from bagging some majestic peak on such a beautiful day, but Tom assured me that “If I wanted epic I would have gone by myself and left two hours ago.” Shut up, Tom.

Turns out our destination wasn’t too shabby after all, but then again anything would have looked fantastic in that glorious sunshine.

When we visited Lake Valhalla back in August, we could drive up the Smithbrook Road to the trailhead, but this time it had to be hiked. I didn’t mind, because I’ve started enjoying road walks. A road can only be so steep, so it’s one of the few places a hiker of my heft can really get into the zone.

Soon enough, we reached the actual trailhead and started angling upwards. At one point I somehow ended up at the front of the pack. The only upside to always being the slowest hiker in the group is that I am never relegated to trailbreaking duty. This time I lasted all of ten feet before going into cardiac arrest and sending the menfolk up to the front where they belong.

Josie and I moseyed on behind them, swooning over Justin Bieber and having pillow fights. Or whatever girls are supposed to do these days.

By now the sunshine was really breaking through, and we were all getting high on Vitamin D. I don’t think I’ve laughed that much on a hike before. It wasn’t all malicious laughter, either.

We made it to the Valhalla overlook below Lichtenberg Mountain and spent a heavenly lunch break eating (mmm, grilled portobello sandwiches), playing in the snow, falling over and just basking in the sun.

Thanks to my homiez for yet another wonderful day in the mountains. It wouldn’t be the same without you.

*or at least a perfectly normal rat.

This birthday celebration is how we first met Tom back in 2009 (though it was actually just a ploy for us to meet Tom’s stout canine companion, Jasper), and the trip was repeated in 2010. At this point we figure we’ll have to keep it going while we still can; Tom’s bones are growing more brittle by the minute and it’s only a matter of time before he falls and breaks a hip.

Ironically, Scott and I were the ones using our walkers (well, feet) while the old man (and JK) donned skis.

This was my first time visiting the lakes in under clear skies, and I finally realized why it’s such a popular snowshoe destination. Even the road walk portion was pleasant (why yes I did just write those words – the sun must have made me delirious).

All in all, it was the perfect trip for a festively plump (*cough*) hiker trying to get back in shape, especially with Jasper around to confiscate our food when he thought we were eating too much.

I don’t know if skiing down the forest road was quite as exciting as Tom had hoped, but at least he made it back to the car with all his delicate joints intact. I guess there’s hope that this tradition will live to see another year.

Unfortunately I rang in the New Year with a bottle of vintage Nyquil for my cold, but by January 2 I was ready to play outside again. Tom suggested a hike to the Eaglet, based on Carla’s trip report from earlier in the week. I was happy to hear that Dani would be joining the group this time. She usually eschews hiking during snow season, so we had to show her a dang blasted good time to convince her that walking is far superior to skiing.

We followed the as-good-as-flat Heather Lake trail before going off-trail up the not-flat-at-all ridge towards the Eaglet. I could keep up ok through the forest (just because everyone’s slow when they’re climbing over deadfall and doing branch pull-ups), but once we hit the more open slopes I could really feel the inordinate amount of weight I amassed this fall. Last summer I complained about carrying around a whole multi-day pack’s worth of blubber, and then I go and gain another one.

Eventually we made it up the summit ridge. The sun was out, the smiles were on, and I had hot toddy to drink. All was well, even when we were blinded by the sunlight reflecting off Tom’s bare chest. Dani mentioned something about winter hiking being “kind of fun”, so it must have been a pretty good day.

After we were done lounging on the summit, came the inevitable slip n’ slide back down to the car. I learned that my extraneous flab is good for one thing – padding my body as I bounce from tree to tree like a pinball.

*followed by Don’t Freak Out When You Miss Out on Trips and Lose Weight, which have also been sorely neglected.

December 23 is called Lille Julaften in Norway, Little Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve Eve? Whatever you choose to call it, that’s when my family would decorate the tree (with the shrill tones of Hanne Krogh’s Christmas carols as our soundtrack) before eating risengrynsgrøt and settling down in front of the tv together to watch Dinner for One and that most wonderful of all holiday movies, National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.

Last year we spent Little Christmas Eve on Skyline Ridge, where we met Tom and Jasper. Doing it once makes it a tradition, right? Why yes, yes it does! So this year we shuffled back up to Skyline Ridge, accompanied not only by those two stout beasts, but also the welcome additions of John, Scott, Josie and the yellow dogs.

‘Twas cold (as a Christmas hike should be) and we didn’t really have any views, but when we reached the ridge we decided to keep on going anyway. Tom led the way down the backside of the ridge and then up again, steeply, until we reached the Sky. Sky Mountain that is. Unfortunately we still couldn’t see anything, and the wind was giving us all Rudolph noses. We retreated until we found a sheltered spot for cookie consumption, snowball fights and mocking of antlered dogs.

It’s not quite the same as being back home, but this is a tradition I have already grown to love. While we don’t have family around for the holidays, we do have good friends…and we have the Griswolds on DVD.

Washington Favorites:

The winter months of 2010 were particularly lazy for me, at least when it came to hiking. The weather was great on the weekdays so I did quite a lot of running (the first time in my life that I could enjoy that particular endeavor, thanks to my Vibram Five Fingers), but I seem to remember the weekends being crappy. Or maybe I just lacked motivation. Anyhoo, the big group cabin trip to Table Mountain takes first place in January, followed closely by a midweek jaunt up Mailbox Peak with my friend Ellie.

In February we took a backcountry travel class through the Washington Alpine Club so we could get some avalanche training. That took up most of our time, but we did get to sneak in a hike up Bandera Mountain, taking advantage of the lack of snow that season.

We spent the first weekend of March out with the WAC class, camping on Smithbrook Road and summiting Union Peak. This was to be our last hike of the month – our handsome little pup, Bobby, passed away and left us too sad to do anything at all. I miss that little guy so much.

In April I went on a last-minute trip to Norway to visit my parents. When I came back, JK and I decided to test the validity of my Norwegian genes by cross-country skiing up Amabilis Mountain. The results were questionable, but the weather was amazing. And then we went to Kaua’i. Mmm.

May was a great month. Still surfing the Hawaiian wave of sunshine and happiness, we went on a lot of dayhikes and I felt more clear-headed and energetic than I have in years. Huzzah! My favorite has to be Sauer’s Mountain with Dani and Josie. Gorgeous viewage and even greater girls!

My mojo was still going strong into June, so this is a hard month to pick a favorite. Hem, haw. I think I’ll go with the trip JK, Wellie and I took to the Teanaway to car camp and hike up Iron Peak. Runner up: Mary’s and Judy’s Peaks. And my surprise Poo Poo Point birthday party. Mmm, cupcakes. And the misty hike with Carlos up Mount Dickerman. Sometimes the company is more important than the views.

July was a busy month; I came home from a trip to California, JK’s mom came to visit, we went to a friend’s wedding on Vancouver Island, and then I was off to the Canadian Rockies. We did have time to play with Karen’s backpacking rafts at Blanca Lake, and to visit High Rock Lookout with JK’s mom.

Alta Mountain was fantastic, but my favorite (and so bittersweet) WA hike of August was taking Bobby’s ashes to his favorite little mountain, Noble Knob. It was a beautiful goodbye, and definitely a day I will never forget.

September was strange. Usually it’s the perfect time for hiking and backpacking in Washington, but I was fighting depression and the weather was total crap. Still, I can’t really complain about the beautiful sunset on Silver Peak and the gorgeous four-day trip to the Enchantments.

My parents came to see us in October, and for once we had amazing weather for their visit. We hiked with them in Paradise to Panorama Point and it was absolutely perfect. Then they went back to Norway, and I got the flu and a bad case of cabin fever.

By November I was feeling flabby and out of shape (and this was before the holidays – yikes!), but I managed to bully Jo into going on a beautiful (and life-affirming) midweek hike to Mount Pilchuck. That place is popular for a reason!

I had big plans for skiing and snowshoeing in December, but we spent most of the month eating Christmas cookies and playing Kinect. Oh well, we still had that beautiful day on Skyline Ridge. And Sky Mountain must have burned at least two of those cookies.

Out-of-State Favorites:

Even though I wimped out before we got to the most scenic part, the Kalalau Trail on Kaua’i was a wonderful experience. I forgot how nice it was to go backpacking but still be really warm.

Not exactly warm but definitely scenic, Panorama Ridge was my favorite hike of the whole year. Canada does not suck.

California ain’t too bad either. Even though the late snow kept us from hiking our planned lakebagger’s loop, the High Sierra scenery was to die for. Big Pine Lakes and Thousand Island Lake were both gorgeous hikes that I wouldn’t hesitate to repeat.

Even biblical swarms of mosquitoes and a mild case of food poisoning can’t keep me from mentioning the Canadian Rockies. Karen took me to one of her old favorites, Lake of the Hanging Glacier, and now that the swelling has gone down I am able to fully appreciate how beautiful it was. My other favorite was the short walk to Parker Ridge – you really don’t have to leave the highway to get good views in Banff!

JK’s Wife-Free Favorites:

I guess it’s only fair that JK got to go on some hikes without the ol’ ball and chain while I was off gallivanting around the world. He’s wanted to climb Mount Rainier since we moved here, and he finally got the chance while I was in California. John, one of his partners in climb (heehee), wrote a trip report here if you’re interested.

Three Fingers was another mountain that had been on JK’s list since before the dawn of time. I’m not quite ready to haul my acrophobic self up the ladders to that old fire lookout yet, so I was ok staying home with the flu for that one. Ok, so not really, but I’m glad he had a good time. See, I’m a good wife.

(He also must have really liked the Island Lake Loop he did with Scott while I was in the Rockies since he put together this adorable little video from it.)

Favorite TNAB’s:

Man alive, this is getting long. This is the last category, I promise! I can’t leave TNAB hikes out of this list, they’re just too much fun. Everything (well, maybe not the death-by-cardio part) about them feels like a bonus since you’re merely investing a couple of evening hours instead of a whole day. Plus there’s booze. And sunsets. And excellent people. Bandera Mountain (wow, Bandera made it onto the list twice?) had all of this in addition to feeling like summer in May.

You know a hike must have been good if I puked while ascending but still list it as one of my favorites. Oh yes, Rampart Ridge was gorgeous enough to make up for the fact that I got to taste my green smoothie twice.

Mount Margaret took me by surprise; we had been there with TNAB in June but didn’t really have any views. In September we could see far into the Alpine Lakes Wilderness, and we enjoyed one of the best sunsets of the year.

Last (phew!) but not least, the Winter Solstice TNAB at Hyak Lake – this one was all smiles from beginning to end. This might have been caused by our gløgg intake, but it still counts.

Writing this whole thing proved to be more exhausting than actually hiking, so I’ll just finish it up by saying thank you to all my hiking partners. Without you, 2010 would have sucked donkey balls. Onwards and upwards to 2011!

Unfortunately this was also the day we had to stay home in the morning for a fire inspection, so after noon we got in the car and drove to our favorite short snowshoe destination, Skyline Ridge.

I think this was my fourth visit to the Ridge and the cool rock garden, and this was the best trip yet. Blue skies, sunshine, fresh snow on the trees…I was in heaven.

Since we got such a late start and the days are agonizingly short this time of year, we had planned on staying up on the ridge for sunset…

…but unfortunately the clear skies and impressive gusts of wind made this the coldest hike I’ve ever been on. Brrr!

We had a quick lunch, then decided that getting back to the car (and the butt heaters!) was more tempting than alpenglow.

We hurried down just as the mountain gods started painting the sky with pastel colors, and were treated to a surprising splash of hot pink on the way back to the parking lot.

These three miles equaled at least three months of therapy.

This was my first totally dark TNAB. When we set out from the parking lot at six, the sun had already set hours ago…luckily we were there to celebrate the Solstice, so the sunny days and evenings will return all in due time. Huzzah!

This was also my first TNAB on snowshoes. And the first TNAB where I was actually able to keep up with the main group, since the guys in the front had to break trail. Huzzah!

Sadly, this was our first TNAB without Wellie. It was too cold for his little fur-less, fat-free body…and it would have been cold for us, too, if it weren’t for all the gløgg and champagne. Huzzah!

Lastly, it was my first TNAB hiking under the influence. I don’t think I’ve ever fallen down quite so many times on a hike before, but the miles just flew by. Huzzah!

Here’s to lighter days and brighter moods and festive holidays and tasty cookies and a brand new year. Huzzah!

Josie, Wellie and I took advantage of the weather window and hiked to Mount Pilchuck. I had been there once before, but we couldn’t really see much that time. Since it’s one of the most popular trails in the state, I figured it would be worth going back on a clearer day. I was right! (I’m never right!)

I distinctly remember thinking that this hike was really easy last year, so it was rather disheartening (though not totally shocking, given my activity level this past month and a half) to spend the whole hike up huffing and puffing like I was trying to blow the lookout down. I guess it’s hard for your blood to supply oxygen to your muscles when it’s 73% chocolate.*

Other than my lagging lardiness, the only problem we faced was getting Wellie up the ladder to the lookout. Last year JK took care of the pups, as evidenced in video – oh, how I miss Bobby! – but this time I got to carry Wellie up there myself. It might not look very difficult, but it definitely made this acrophobic’s heart beat a little faster.

Speaking of acrophobia, I want to brag about scrambling out on the boulders behind the lookout for this photo op. Even more shocking than the fact that I would even consider doing such a thing, was the realization that it didn’t really make me nervous. Success!

(Photo of Daredevil Ingunn and the following photo of Wellie licking my face courtesy of Josie.)

We ended up staying at the lookout for hours since the views were just too good to leave. It’s a pretty amazing payoff for such a short hike (and for being so close to civilization**). The crowds were thin by Pilchuckian standards, but still pretty impressive for a Thursday in November.

As the sun started to set, we reluctantly climbed back down the ladder and hiked out, motivated by the veggie fajitas that awaited us in Granite Falls. Good night, Mount Pilchuck! I’m sure we’ll meet again.

Big thanks to Josie and Wellie for lightening my mood with this moste excellente outing.

*I am drinking a green juice as we speak to rectify the situation.
**Depending on how you define Granite Falls.***
***Just kidding.

Between my Enchantments injury and getting the flu, I had a long period of couch-bound inertia. The subsequent bout of depression sufficiently proved, in a roundabout way, that GOYA works is absolutely necessary.

The good news is that I am picking myself up, piece by piece, and things are slowly but surely starting to look brighter. I’m still on a high from the fantastic Gorillaz concert last night; a mysterious, shining orb, not normally seen in these parts in November, is present in the skies above Seattle; and hopefully I’ll be back in the mountains for some therapy soon enough.

Day one: Colchuck Lake. Drizzle. Heavy packs, but not heavy enough to have remembered all our tent poles. D’oh! Scott retrieves tent poles from North Bend while Jo and Ingunn get comfortable(?) with Tom in his two-man tent.

Day two: Aasgard Pass. 2200 feet of elevation gain in less than one mile. Ingunn fears legs will fall off, curses pack weight and excess blubbery poundage. Views in Upper Enchantments shut her up. Group finds excellent campsite on cliffs above Crystal Lake.

Camouflage. Ur doin it right.

Goats. More goats.

The larches are turning! Girls enjoy spacious sleeping quarters while guys marinate in their own flatulence.

Day three: Sunrise.

Brr.

Menfolk leave to conquer Cannon while wimmins explore Lower Enchantments.

Gnome Tarn. No gnomes. Goats.

Goats.

Group reunites, ascends Little Annapurna, 8440 feet.

Blown away by views. Happy.

Day four: Wake up to a dusting of snow. Ridiculous sunrise.

Goats.

Pack up, hike out. Rain. Slick boulders. Ingunn pulls muscle, fears leg actually will fall off this time. Limp to trailhead. Codeine. Aah.

Since I’m now at the halfway point of the GOYA challenge, I decided to compile a list of things I’ve learned so far:

- The harder the workout, the happier I get (but pushing myself is still a huge challenge).

- When I can’t find the motivation for a hard workout, getting out for a brisk walk is surprisingly effective.

- So far, the happiness effect only lasts through the day of the activity…

-…so it’s much better for me to exercise early in the day (but this clashes with my procrastination).

- Doing strength training again feels amazing for my noodly appendages, but it doesn’t give as much of a happiness boost as running or hiking.

My laziness may have prevented me from updating my blog, but it hasn’t foiled GOYA! For more on days 8-13, click on the photos above.

Day 11 deserves special attention since it was all sorts of awesome. After several days of migraine and general malaise, I suddenly woke up clear-headed and happy as a clam.

To celebrate my newfound willingness to leave the house, JK and I met up with Josie to gorge ourselves on free samples at the PCC Healthy Living Fair in Issaquah, then drove up to Snoqualmie Pass for a TNAB-style ascent of Silver Peak.

Good views, excellent company, crisp autumn air and a beautiful sunset made this the best GOYA yet.

Since I am the only one of her friends without a job, a life, or an ounce of sense, Karen talked me into (ok, it wasn’t that hard) joining her on a last-minute road trip and hiking excursion to the Canadian Rockies.

We started with a backpacking trip to Lake of the Swarming Mosquitoes. Sorry, Lake of the Hanging Glacier. This must be one of the prettiest lakes in the universe, but OHMYGOD, the evil, bloodsucking mozzies just wouldn’t leave me alone. Graahk! We bushwhacked/scrambled up to a ledge about 1000 feet above the lake in hopes of escaping the little bastards, but no such luck.

We stayed there one night and then went back to civilization, also known as Radium Hot Springs. Mmmm. Karen thought they wouldn’t let me in since the mosquito bites made me look like a leper, but they took pity on me and I was allowed to soak my bumpy body for an hour or so before we drove north into the Rockies. Even the views from the car were amazing.

After spending a night in the Waterfowl Lake campground, we hit some of the touristy spots. My favorites were Parker Ridge in Banff National Park…

…and the Edith Cavell trail in Jasper National Park.

After spending another night by Waterfowl Lake, I woke up the next day not feeling quite right…and then ended up spending the whole day running between my tent and the campground bathrooms. Do yourself a favor and stay away from the food at the Icefields Parkway Visitor Centre, even the little veggie burger that you think can’t possibly do any harm. *mumble grumble*

After a day of “rest” in the Lake Louise campground (complete with grizzly-proof electric fences!), I was ready-ish to hike again, so we donned our helmets and ice axes and set out for Caldron Peak.

The trail starts at the Peyto Lake viewpoint, so obviously the views are redonkulus right from the beginning. We dropped down to the lake shore, followed the river up to a primitive log bridge, hiked up the moraine, then made our way to the steep scree traverse towards Caldron Lake (you can see it in the photo below, to the left above the waterfall).

Karen coaxed me partway across the slope, but then I just froze and had to sit down. I hate this kind of terrain; there was no trail due to frequent rock slides (that’s always comforting), so you had to make you own steps on the hard dirt covered with rolling scree. When I looked down and realized that a slip would equal certain doooom, I had to call it quits.

While Karen sped ahead to attempt Caldron Peak, I moseyed around on the plateau, exploring the Peyto Glacier hut, making good use of their facilities (blast that veggie burger!) and trying not to beat myself up for wimping out on our climb. As thunder and hail started rolling in, I found a spot below the moraine where I could wait for Karen. After a while I realized I was sitting right next to three steaming piles of bear poo, and was mildly perturbed when I discovered that I had left my bear spray in the car.

Luckily Karen wasn’t hit by lightning and I wasn’t mauled by a bear, so, reunited at last, all we had to do was hike the 1300 feet of counter-elevation to get back to the car. Hnngh.

After a well-deserved meal in Banff, a good night’s sleep at the Two Jack campground and a heavenly soak in Banff Hot Springs, we jumped in Karen’s truck and drove home (stopping for Timbits and Hickory Sticks along the way).

Big thanks to Karen for a Moste Excellente Adventure, I’m already looking forward to my next trip to the Rockies…this time it’s going to be a fall trip when the larches have turned and all the %&$@ing mosquitoes are DEAD.

Most of this route is on the Powerline Trail, which is chockablock with blackberries at the moment. We grabbed an extra produce bag at PCC and filled it up with two pounds of deliciousness on the way home – even Wellie ate a couple of berries straight of the bush! We arrived home soaked to the core, but happy. Hear that? Happy. GOYA for the win!!

JK’s words of wisdom for the day: “Focus on what you are doing, not on what you think you should be doing”. (Yes, everything I need to learn about life always essentially boils down to “Be here now”.) I decided to try to take his advice, and suddenly I was able to run again and get lost in conversation.

Side note: we saw two piles of bear scat in the Watershed. It still amazes me that there are bears and cougars running around here.

I kept that mindset going throughout the weekend when we both realized that we just didn’t feel like hiking. Instead of feeling guilty about not being out in the mountains on a weekend in September (the best hiking month in Washington), we made some good food and enjoyed curling up at home with our books. This also gave me a chance to come up with some good cross-training activities since I’m trying to ease back into running.

First up, yoga. Omgz, GOYA is an anagram of yoga – surely that must be a sign! JK and I both used to love Ashtanga Yoga, but we just stopped practicing after we left California. Dusting off my mat felt amazing, and I can’t even remember the last time I was this sore. Since I was already feeling all New Age and junk, I tortured myself for fifteen minutes on my Shakti Mat to really get the blood flowing.

Sunday was a day of epic laziness, but we took our bikes out for a ride on the East Lake Sammamish Trail and stopped by Marymoor Park on the way home so JK could boulder for a bit. We only biked 16 miles since my butt hasn’t touched a bike seat since the dawn of time (between that and the Ashtanga, tomorrow should be a hoot), so I felt like I didn’t get a good workout in. It would help if there were more hills; all the elevation gain is from the one evil monster of a hill that leads back up to our house. Now that part just about killed me.

I’ve come to the conclusion that if this project is going to work, I need to push myself harder (bigger rush of endorphins and sense of accomplishment) and do so earlier in the day (so I can really benefit from the rush).

Anyhoo, let’s move on to day two and the other acronym – TNAB! We joined the Thursday Night Afterburners on a hike to Mount Margaret tonight. We had already mounted Margaret (hah) with TNAB in early June when it was still snow-covered, but it’s definitely worth a trip in late summer when the huckleberries are out and the views are clear.

For some reason the hike seemed harder today than it did in the snow, but maybe we’re just walking faster now that the days are getting shorter. At least I had ample opportunities to stop and rest my legs while munching on berries. All thoughts of sluggish muscles were forgotten at the summit anyway; the views were fantabulous and the sunset spectacular. Even I don’t have to force myself off the couch for a hike like this one.

I came home feeling fantastic (Wellie was pretty happy too), but then I suddenly crashed with a pounding headache. Maybe it was too strenuous for my body after being couch-bound for so long? Hopefully it’s nothing a little caffeine, a shower and a wee nap can’t fix.

Running songs of the day: Jimi Hendrix – Fire and Florence + The Machine – Cosmic Love (her whole album is perfect for running…but I might be biased since it takes me right back to the beaches of Kaua’i…)

For me, depression comes and goes in waves. This happens to be one of the really low points, and I can’t really see the surf going up anytime soon. I’ve been looking back over the last couple of years to try to make sense of the ebb and flow of it all, and it seems to really be connected to physical activity. I can honestly say that hiking changed (and quite possibly saved) my life.

I just posted some photos of our recent trip to the Space Needle on Flickr, and I was struck by the difference in my appearance now and the last time we went. It was in the spring of 2007, one of the most difficult periods of my life. I remember how uncomfortable I felt in my body and in my life. I had migraines almost every day. I would always stay home while JK went out with our friends. I had no energy. I was deeply unhappy. Apart from the weight loss (it’s not even about the weight loss), I can see how much more confident, content and relaxed I am now. Hiking gave me exercise, sunshine, endorphins, fresh air, a sense of accomplishment, confidence in learning new skills, and a sense of purpose. So I’ve come a long way, but not far enough.

The last time I felt really energetic, confident and carefree over an extended period of time was in late May and June…which also just happens to coincide with a period where I was doing lots of hiking and, more importantly, lots of running on the non-hiking days. I really think this is key – hiking once or twice a week isn’t enough; I have to keep the endorphins going throughout the week.

For the month of September, I will be doing a little (well, for me it’s pretty big) experiment: I will exercise every single day to see how it affects my mental health. I’m trying to disregard the vague notion I have that this whole experiment is embarrassing to talk about, so I’ll be posting updates on the blog. I’ll try to keep the whining at a minimum, but considering the fact that I had to argue with myself for over an hour this morning to get out of bed, there’s bound to be some bitching and moaning when I try to force my carcass off the couch to go running in the rain.

So there you have it. 30 days of exercise, strenuous enough to get that magical rush of endorphins. There are so many changes I want to make in my life, but I think this first little step is the key to unlocking the rest of them. One foot in front of the other.

Sandy it was! In fact, if you ignored the goosebumps, it was almost like being back in Hawai’i! We found a suitably pale Norse god lounging on the beach.

Being part of the wrong mythology didn’t keep Zeus and Athena from enjoying Lake Valhalla, and Wellie did his best to attempt to play with the big dogs (poor Jasper was, yet again, involved in an involuntary swimming situation).

I was the only two-legger brave enough* to face the icy waters of Valhalla…then I spent the rest of the lunch break shivering in my puffy jacket. It is with mixed emotions that I must announce that autumn has arrived in Washington.

*ok, so I was the only one with enough insulating body fat to go swimming.

This week, we went back to Noble Knob to spread Bobby’s ashes and say our farewells on his favorite mountain.

It was such a bittersweet trip; the weather was perfect and the hike was as beautiful as ever (…and Wellie was running around like crazy, tongue flapping every which way – apparently this is one of his favorite trails too!) but saying goodbye to Bobby felt so sad and so final.

I’m not going to write much since I’m tearing up just thinking about all of this, but it was a beautiful last hike for Bobby and I am so glad we did it. Now we’ll always have a place to go to visit our little Scabbers.

A friend sent me this quote today that made my eyes well up all over again:

Who are these characters who come and go from our lives, leaving behind hair on the sofa and more than a few footnotes in our personal history? Who sends them to us, and who takes them away? Does it matter? They are gifts. We can only embrace, enjoy and let go when we must. Even if it always seems way too soon.

I’m also going to try to keep this one in mind (thank you Dr. Seuss):

Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.

To all of you out there who are lucky enough to have animal companions, give your little (or not so little) friends an extra hug today. You will never regret it.

Anyhoo, this time we were invited to join Scott and Josie on a backpacking trip for their anniversary (they must think our incessant whistling and fake British accents are terribly romantic). In order to break up the drive, we stopped at Josie’s parents’ on the way and played with their new puppy (OMG) and swam in their pool. Well-rested and finally in vacation mode, we crossed the border and drove up to Garibaldi Provincial Park.

We carried our packs 5.5 miles into the backcountry campground (a strange concept, but the cooking shelters were appreciated once the mosquitoes came out), set up camp, ate, talked, relaxed, slept, and woke up to surprisingly clear skies. W00t!

‘Twas time to make our way up to Panorama Ridge. The trail started off with steep switchbacks, just like the day before, but they were over sooner than we expected…and from then on it was all meadows, flowers and freaking gorgeous views all around. I could actually hear Josie singing a certain song from The Sound of Music as she skipped along ahead of me.

There was an ominous-looking layer of clouds covering the peaks in the distance, so we hauled arse to get to the summit before it got socked in. And man alive, was it worth it. The clouds made for difficult photo conditions for a layperson like myself, but that just means I have an excuse to go back on a clear day – this is definitely one of my top five hikes of all time. The view of Garibaldi Lake from the ridge is stunning; the color is so intense it looks Photoshopped in real life (this seems to be an ongoing theme in my Canadian hikes).

We chilled (literally – it was so cold we put on puffy jackets and gloves) on the summit for a while before heading back down. Hiking back was like being on Mount Si, we must have met at least 50 people on the trail…which is understandable since this area is pretty much heaven on earth.

A little while after we came back to the campground, the weather decided to live up to the forecast and it started raining (but with the rain came rainbows, huzzah). We retreated to our respective snooze pods and waited to hike out until the morning, the promise of lunch at Black’s in Whistler motivating our every step. Best weekend of the year so far!

The full trip report on nwhikers.net is here (photos on page 1, 2 and 3 but there’s more to come – apparently we are very inefficient housewives, teehee).

We have a favorite dog-friendly hike right outside of the park, Noble Knob, but since our fellow hung-over hikers had already been there, we decided to go to Sourdough Gap and Sheep Lake instead. The trailhead is literally seconds away from the park entrance at Chinook Pass.

Since we had to forgo the classic National Park hikes because of the little bastard, here’s a bunch of photos of Wellie on the trail. Seeing how deliriously happy it makes him to hike makes it worth a little bit of sacrifice.

We were in the middle of the heatwave, so even Wellie seemed to enjoy cooling off in Sheep Lake. He jumped in over and over again (to save us, I guess), so he must at least hate the water a little less than before. He’s also slightly less awkward when he swims. Progress!

I’ve always wanted to love running, but actually hated it. Blubber and panting aside, I could never even run a mile without shin pain, knee pain, ankle pain, lower back pain, or, since I really messed them up playing handball when I was growing up, rolling my ankles. With the Five Fingers, I can run pain-free (except for the exploding heart and burning lungs, of course); it’s basically like running barefoot, the way evolution intended.

It seems counterintuitive when you’ve been conditioned to think that the more padding, the better, but the second I tried them on, I was in heaven. I don’t want to wear any other kind of shoe; I even bought a second pair in black to wear when I’m not exercising. I haz munkeh feetz and I’m proud of it!

My favorite part is being able to run without the threat of twisting my ankle – this highly scientific illustration should tell you all you need to know:

The only problem, which should be pretty obvious, is that the thin soles don’t really work for real hiking. I love using them for trail running and smooth hiking trails like Rattlesnake or the Issaquah Alps, but last week we tried the VFFs on our TNAB Lite hike to Snow Lake. The hike itself is very easy, but I forgot how rocky the trail was. I felt like I spent way too much time and energy staring at my feet to make sure I didn’t step on any of the really evil, jagged rocks and not enough time enjoying the hike. JK did much better than I did, so maybe I just lack confidence (as usual) in my steps.

Now I’m on a mission to find some sort of trail running shoe that’s minimalistic enough (but with a little more protection than the VFFs) that I can wear it hiking without twisting my ankle.

This hike had it all; Sound of Music-type meadows, glittering alpine lakes, hot hot hot (for the most part) sunshine, fantabulous views, excellent conversation, and, compared to my recent experiences in the Rockies (more on that later), not that many mosquitoes.

I had thought the ridge walk would bother me (given my ridiculous fear of heights), but I was completely comfortable the whole way. Success! I had also heard rumors of hundreds of false summits on the way to Alta, so when the (absolutely enormous) summit cairn suddenly popped into view, it was a happy surprise – especially since it meant we could finally partake of Yet’s famous summit brownies.

The only thing missing was JK. We haven’t been able to get out together much this summer since I’ve been gallivanting all over the place while he’s been stuck working way too hard on a project, so I might have to do a re-peak of Alta with him this fall when the berries are out. *munch munch munch*

*I officially can’t say the words “lovely ladies” without breaking into song.

I’ve been fighting the dreary doldrums lately (ok, so it seems like I always am), but Josie shook me out of my marmot-like state of hibernation and got me out on my first TNAB hike in two months. Ach, my burning lungs and quivering loins!

Our destination was Rampart Ridge, a short but oh so steep hike to an area so gorgeous it’s hard to believe it’s right next to the freeway. I had been feeling iffy all week (possibly a lingering something-or-other from a bout of food poisoning the week before), so I got the privilege of feeding the heather on our ascent. This was the first and, hopefully, the last time I have ever vomited on a hike.

Even though I got to taste my lunch twice, I was so happy I went. Great group of people, a beautiful, hazy sunset, a fun trail…it was enough to jolt me out of my malaise for an hour or two.

Karen (who also took me to Tank Lakes last year) invited Tisha, Josie and yours truly to the Sierra Nevada for a grand lakebagging adventure in June/July. Unfortunately the unusually high snowpack forced us to change our plans a little bit, but I think we managed to make the most of what we had.

First stop*, Yosemite! We hiked the Mist Trail, did the whole touron thing, were blown away by the granite awesomeness of the whole place, and, on the way out, saw one of the famous Roadside Bears o’ Yosemite. (I have yet to see a bear in Washington, but I saw six(!) of them in Whistler the week before we went to California.)

After camping at Tioga Pass (man alive, what a gorgeous drive!), we made our way east of the mountains to Mono Lake where we marveled at the tufas and took a well-deserved dip to escape the heat. It has such a high saline content that you just float on top without any effort at all (I usually float well due to my high blubber content anyway, so it was a double win for me). Definitely the coolest swimming hole I have ever found.

Next we drove south to the Bishop area to go backpacking up by Big Pine Lakes. The lakes were melted (huzzah!), gorgeous, and I broke my previous altitude record when we hiked up to 11,000 feet. I was surprised that I didn’t get a headache or feel nauseated when we were camped so high, but I was wheezing like crazy for every step I took. Luckily the scenery allowed for lots of “photo breaks” where I could rest my hyperventilating lungs.

The main part of our trip was a three-day backpack to Thousand Island Lake. Our original plan was to spend four days on/near the John Muir Trail, hiking a loop that would get us to all sorts of gorgeous lakes, but since most of those lakes were still frozen, we camped by Thousand Island and were content with rafting among the icebergs in the lake, doing a short dayhike to Garnet Lake, chatting up lots of Pacific Crest Trail thruhikers and photographing marmots.

Some marmots were more interested than others – this one came right up to the camera when Karen was trying to take our photo!

I absolutely loved this trip; the High Sierra is like miles and miles (and miles and miles) of the Enchantments, and I already want to go back. I’ve been wanting to hike all 211 miles of the John Muir Trail ever since I started hiking, so maybe I can convince JK that we need to do that next summer.

*ok, technically our first stop was a six-hour layover at a sketchy gas station where our rental car broke down and we were approached by an assortment of hillbillies and tweakers who wanted our candy. But let’s try to forget that part of the vacation.

Anyhoo, we decided on the island of Kaua’i since it’s known as the adventurous isle, and definitely the best island for hiking…but we didn’t end up doing much hiking at all. We quickly decided that it would be foolish to not spend as much of our time as possible fully submerged under water, snorkeling with all sorts of non-shark ocean dwellers.

We did manage to sneak in one backpacking trip between all the strenuous beach trips; the (in)famous Kalalau Trail.

The first time I read about this hike was in an article in Backpacker Magazine entitled America’s 10 Most Dangerous Hikes. You would think that would give me, an incorrigible exposure wuss, pause, but I am used to reading guidebooks from Washington, where any minor trail inconvenience is described with a sense of impending doom. The Kalalau Trail goes up and down and up and down, hugging the cliffs along the majestic Na Pali coast. Pssht, I thought. How bad could it be?

Luckily I came to my senses when I found photos like this on the intertubes a couple of weeks before our vacation. I realized this would be no place for me to freak out/freeze up/stagger around like a nervous drunk, so we (I) decided that we would only hike to Hanakoa, a mile before the sketchy stuff starts, and camp there.

In the end, I was relieved when we made it to Hanakoa and could relax. The trail itself is not that challenging, but the heat and humidity were really getting to me. Since my body pretty much consists of a series of tubes filled with Norwegian blood and enveloped in copious amounts of insulating blubber, it’s clear that all my time on a tropical island should be spent in the water or in the shade of a coconut tree. Anyway, it was heavenly to take a bath in creek and hike up to beautiful Hanakoa Falls.

The next day, we packed up our things and headed back towards civilization – but we weren’t ready to leave quite yet. We still had a night left on our permit, so we decided to camp on Hanakapi’ai Beach, a mere two miles from the trailhead. The weather didn’t feel as oppressive on the hike out, so we spent more time admiring the gorgeous views of blue, blue water, green, green plants and red, red flowers.

We set up our tent in the purdiest campsite we’ve ever seen, then set about sunbathing, cooling off in the creek, playing with the beach cats and generally just loving life.

Sunset and sunrise? Magnificent.

On the third morning, we packed up and made quick work of the remaining two miles. Our immediate reward was a cleansing swim on Ke’e Beach and a strawberry smoothie from the roadside stand. All trailheads should have access to tropical beaches and fruit snacks.

All in all a great trip – in an ideal world I would be less of a nervous idiot and actually make it all the way to Kalalau Beach, but alas, even the slightly eroded section on the way to Hanakoa made me all shaky and stumbly.

Along the trail, we ran into several of the year-round beach dwellers (real live hippies!) heading out on resupply trips. Barefoot and carrying nothing but tiny rucksacks with some water, they all looked so peaceful on their journey. I’m sure the fact that they were all stoned out of their minds had nothing at all to do with their blissful existence, but still, it felt kind of poetic when I was lumbering along with my huge pack, struggling with my emotional baggage and my actual baggage. We could all be more island-like.

Our first post-Hawaiʻi (yes, Hawaiʻi! More about that later when I get my photos up…) TNAB destination was Rattlesnake Mountain East Peak. We’ve been to Rattlesnake Ledge a dozen times or so, but this was the first time we ventured beyond the ledges. Since we got a late start, we summited after the main group had already started descending, but we all reconvened at the Pour House in North Bend for Blue Moons afterwards.

Next up was Bandera Mountain. This was my third time up this trail since September, and I am growing rather fond of it. I’ll have to go back some time in July when the beargrass is out.

Anyhoo, the sun was shining and I was wearing shorts for the entire hike, which made me happy enough to almost forget about my racing heart and seizing muscles. Once we hit the snow line, JK raced ahead while I followed at a more leisurely pace. It was still 30 minutes faster than when we went in February, so I’ll count it as progress!

The sunsets are what really make TNAB hikes stand out, and we were treated to quite a doozy as we started hiking back to our cars. The combination of great views, strenuous exercise, sunshine, beer, fresh air and great people = natural Prozac. Mission accomplished, at least for a couple of days. :o)

I was also totally unprepared for how deliciously warm it would be. It was amazing! I rolled my pants up (and cursed myself for wearing my black ninja clothes instead of a t-shirt) and went on to stockpile enough vitamin D to last me all week.

After optimistically putting our skis on and dejectedly having to take them off again about seven times due to the random whims of the pathetic snow cover, we got annoyed and decided to forge ahead, snow or no snow:

Once we hit continuous snow, the rest of the trip was a breeze. This little mountain has a lot of views for minimal effort. We soaked up some more sun at the top while eating cowboy cookies and taking in the scenery.

Skiing back down was like trying to push myself forward through some sort thick, gloopy paste, but (miraculously!) we made it back to the car without a single fall.

This was a great little cross-country ski tour even for a novice (I fear I am forever entrenched in this category); it’s a gentle uphill all the way, which fortunately also means it’s a gentle downhill on the way back. According to my GPS, our loop was 11 miles with 2,500 feet of elevation gain.

Park at the Cabin Creek Sno Park (you need a groomed trails pass in the winter when there is actually snow that can be groomed). North of the freeway, ski (in our case, walk) Forest Service Road 4826 until you get to the sign for Amabilis Mountain/FS 4822. After two miles or so, you get to a junction; both roads lead to the top.

As if the day wasn’t good enough already, we stopped and had phở on the way home. Aah, Washington, how I have missed you.

It is rather sobering (especially for someone living in an area studded with volcanoes like, say, Washington) to consider all the earthquakes and volcanic activity we’ve seen around the world lately. The gods are angry.

In less eruptive news, I spent a very nice and relaxing Easter back in Norway. I think I really needed some rest (mentally); I spent most of my time reading, going for walks – my parents live in a beautiful place – and just enjoying the company of my family. Oh, and EATING WAY TOO MUCH, but that’s what you’re supposed to do when you visit your parents, right? Right??

Since volcanoes are all the rage right now, here’s a scrapbook page I made a while ago of our “climb” (ok, snow slog) of Mt. St. Helens last year. It’s been sitting on my desk for months, but apparently I am never going to get around to finding any embellishments for it…so here it is in all its naked glory. (I used a sketch by Becky Higgins.)

It’s been a very tough week for us; the house feels so empty and we haven’t had much energy to do anything at all. It gets better with time, I guess. I’m heading home to Norway on a somewhat last-minute trip to visit my parents tomorrow, so that will definitely help.

I haven’t been scrapbooking much lately either, but I put together this one (using Karla’s products) last week – I’m thinking I should start making something like this for every season (or month?) so I can at least capture all the major goings-on in our life even when my scrapbooking mojo is nowhere to be found.

That tiny, fuzzy rat grew into a very handsome boy named Bobby, and I fell in love with him and JK at the same time (some might say that JK lured me into his arms using Bobby as bait).

After we stole him from JK’s parents, Bobby became our furry (well, not that furry) son. He even came to our wedding:

Bobby was a perfectly healthy, happy dog until last year when he got very sick with meningitis. He somehow managed to pull through, and for these last two months he was like a young dog again. JK and I were amazed by how energetic he was, so it came as a complete shock to us when he suddenly collapsed and had a seizure in the dog park last Friday. We drove as fast as we could to the vet, but it wasn’t fast enough. Our beautiful little boy passed away in my arms.

I am so glad that both JK and I were there, that Bobs was so happy, and that he was in a place he loved so much, the dog park. Even so, I am absolutely devastated. Bobby was my constant companion through so many years, and I miss him so much.

Thank you for keeping us warm at night, and for keeping me company through some very tough and lonely times. Thank you for going on walks with us, even though some of them were very long. Thank you for being so patient when there was suddenly a little brother in the house. Thank you for being the best little dog in the whole wide world.

I’ll miss your weird little growl and how good your ears smelled, and that cute sound you made when you yawned. You were the most loyal friend anyone could ever have. I love you.

The steep boulder/bear grass hillside was covered with a slushy, slippery layer of snow, so I was happy to have my hiking poles and Yaktrax – we met several traction-less hikers who had turned around due to slippage. Wellie made good use of his K9 crampons.

‘Twas a Moste Excellente Sundaye Outinge, especially since the sun decided to grace us with her presence. And because JK brought summit chocolate. And because it felt fantastic to go out and make my hindquarters sore after three weeks of injury-induced sofa sloth. Huzzah!

Anyhoo, the objective of the weekend was to learn about avalanche rescue (and, more importantly, avalanche avoidance) and snow shelters as part of the WAC’s Winter Backcountry Travel class. It was a very fun, informative, and inspiring (as in I will do anything I possibly can to avoid having to dig my friends’ lifeless (most likely) bodies out of the snow) weekend. I’m glad I’m taking an avalanche class this early in my snow travel career, before I’ve had time to do anything really stupid.

Other noteworthy happenings this weekend: the sun was out. We needed sunglasses. And sunscreen. Hells yeah!

We didn’t walk around much this weekend, which suited my gimpy foot perfectly. All the resting seemed to have helped, so on Monday I decided to join JK for our regular three-mile dog walk around the neighborhood. My foot cooperated nicely until mile 1.5, when all hell broke lose. At that point I didn’t really have much choice but to finish the loop (in hindsight I should have ignored my overzealous, cabin fever-ridden soul and chosen a shorter route to begin with), so I grumpily limped back home.

Two more days of rest and icing later, and it’s feeling better again. I’ve also made a conscious decision to be less pissy about the situation since that’s not going to help me, my foot, or the poor fools I interact with on a daily basis. I’ll also take the grumpiness as a good sign, since it means I actually want to be active – a big improvement on the couch-loving Ingunn of yesteryear.

Instead I am stuck on the couch playing Farmville and watching NBC’s craptastic “coverage” of the Olympics (you would think that living a hop and a skip from Vancouver would ensure the ability to watch the games live, but noooo).

Anyhoo, the top of my foot started hurting last weekend while I was snowshoeing, but I didn’t really think much about it until I went out for a run the next day. It got worse and worse with each step, stabbing pain every time I pushed off with the balls of my foot (which, as I learned afterwards, I shouldn’t be doing when I’m running anyway). Apparently I sprained something in the metatarsal region of my left foot and I’m just going to have to ice and rest (and curse the gods and everyone around me) until it gets better.

Of course (since I am both stubborn and, let’s be honest, rather lacking in the brainal department), I went hiking this weekend. In my defense, a friend from Norway was in town and we started planning this trip in October. It was just a short hike up to High Hut to spend the night, an equally short hike back to the car the next day, and then a very short snowshoeing excursion to Paradise so the boys could go skiing and snowboarding.

Sadly, the spectacular views we had been hoping for were replaced with rain, clouds, fog, blizzards and general shittiness – nothing like our last trip to High Hut. Still, it was better than staying home and playing Farmville…even though it probably prolonged my recovery time. Damnit.

Please excuse the whining nature of this post; I am currently deficient in endorphins, vitamin D and serotonin (and have spent an inordinate amount of time harvesting virtual asparagus), and I am clearly feeling the effects.

A couple of weeks ago, our group of intrepid hikers (including one snowmobiler and a flock of four-leggers) migrated east of the crest to spend a long weekend at the Table Mountain A-Frame Cabin. Faced with a harrowing 7.5-mile road walk to reach our destination, those of us who weren’t burdened with overloaded pulks chose the shortcut over Diamond Head (cutting 2.5 miles while only adding 300 feet of additional elevation gain).

The lardier of us (no offense, Jasper!) huffed and puffed up the steep slopes feeling every ounce of our overnight packs (tents had been replaced with wine and fresh produce for this glamping experience). The summit itself was treed and offered no dazzling views, but as we made our way down the ridge, Tahoma and a very pointy Mount Stuart dominated the horizon.

I choose neither to recount nor remember the remaining road walk up to the cabin.

Safely ensconced in the a-frame, food was eaten, games were played, drinks were drunk and dogs were used as pillows. At some point during the first night, we realized We Were Not Alone. For some reason I still cannot fathom, I leaned over and shined my headlamp into the vault toilet. I was surprised to see two mice scurrying about in our waste (feasting on undigested pieces of corn, no doubt), but a perusal of the guest book told us that our smelly new pets were known as the Pooperine and his sidekick, Poopacabra.

The next day we set out on a never-ending snowshoe to Mount Lillian. Most of us gave up and returned to the cabin to drink, but a handful of travelers made it to the summit. They’ll have to write about that themselves.

More food was eaten, more drinks were drunk, more games were played, and more offerings were made to the Pooperine.

On the last morning, our group split once more – the peak baggers set out to conquer each and every bump in the vicinity of the cabin, while the rest of us enjoyed excellent sledding and mini skiing down a nearby hill.

I choose neither to recount nor remember the 7.5-mile road walk back to the trailhead.

Special thanks to Andrea, Tisha (and their respective menfolk) for arranging this fabulous trip, and to Steve for risking everything in order to safely transport our beer to the cabin…and to everyone else for making it such a great weekend.

For information on how you can book a night in this Moste Excellente of Mountain Dwellings, look here.

(Check out those retro BasicGrey letter stickers! I know the title looks cramped and borderline illegible, but I dug those stickers out from the deepest, darkest depths of my stash and I love ‘em.)

Even though I’m taking an (involuntary) break from scrapbooking, I feel like I should at the very least be documenting our favorite trips so I’ll have something to look at when I am old and grey and decrepit. It’s also a good way to start dreaming about future destinations now that the days are getting longer (hallelujah!) and it looks like summer just might come around again this year.

*November, approximately.

Looking back at my first hike of Mount Si, it’s clear that I was once very enthusiastic about it in an adorably naive way…so it was nice to go back there last weekend with two Si virgins and see the mountain through their eyes.

It didn’t hurt that the weather turned from grey with snow flurries to clear and sunny. It also didn’t hurt that the hike was followed by curry at Square Lotus. What did hurt was realizing that I hiked faster last year carrying a 40-pound pack than I did this weekend with a normal daypack. It’s officially time to hit the trails again – then heading back to Si for a rematch.

So since this is January and I am presumably not the only one who is trying to shed some lard, I thought I would share one of my favorite recipes. It’s very easy, very tasty, very healthy.

Red Lentil Dhal:

1 yellow onion

1 can diced tomatoes

400 grams (yes, I’m European) red lentils

8 dl water

2 cubes vegetable stock (I use powdered stock, so I just throw in whatever amount seems reasonable)

1 tbs grated fresh ginger (I quadruple this amount, but then again I have a disturbingly passionate love of ginger)

2 tbs fresh cilantro (coriander) (I add more of this, too)

1 tbs red curry paste

a wee bit of oil for sauteeing

salt and pepper to taste

Heat the onion in a smidge of oil in a pot. Add the tomatoes and let them simmer for a couple of minutes, then add the rest of the ingredients. Stir, cover with a lid and let it simmer for 20 minutes.

We usually eat this with brown rice (or quinoa) and lots of broccoli or greens. Nom nom nom. The best part is having leftovers the next day; I usually mix the dhal and the rice/quinoa, add a little bit of chickpea flour so that everything will stick together, and voilà: lentil burgers!

A couple of days after Christmas, JK and I decided to move our porky behinds (I’m speaking for myself) off the couch, away from the Christmas cookies, and up a hill – Microwave Hill to be exact. A snowmobile-infested radio tower seems an unlikely destination for a wilderness experience, but we had heard tales of surprisingly splendid views along Keechelus Ridge.

Despite a late start and realizing that we had left our map at home, we soldiered on, figuring that we couldn’t get lost if we just followed the forest road. Well, it turns out that there are approximately 572 different forest roads leading up to Keechelus Ridge, all with fresh snowmobile tracks.

Yes, I’m wearing a chullo. It looks heinous but it keeps me warm.

Anyway, we made it to the top and found a nice spot away from the snowmobile congregation (frequently asked snowmobiler question: “You walked up here??”) where we could have lunch. Please ignore the red noses in the photo, it was coooold up there on the windy ridge! The views more than made up for the chattering teeth; we got quite the panorama of the Alpine Lakes Wilderness.

Once we dropped down from the ridge and away from the wind, the temperature was perfect for hiking. Unfortunately we somehow* ended up on the wrong forest road on the way down. Yup. Thus we had the privilege of seeing the sunset over Mount Rainier, hiking in the moonlight (we had headlamps but the moon was so bright that we didn’t need them), and turning a six-mile hike into a ten-miler. From now on I will always double-check that I packed my topo map, even if I’m in a hurry.

Miles: 10 (normally around 6)
Elevation gain: 2,500 feet
Getting “lost” in the moonlight with the man you love: more romantic (and slightly embarrassing) than scary

*By being mapless doofuses**, that’s how.
**Doofi?

Last summer we got one of those tiny little camcorder things with the idea that we were going to put together little videos of our backpacking trips, but of course that didn’t happen. Today we decided to rectify the situation by putting together a video of our alpine lake dips from 2009. If you’re really bored or just have 8 minutes to kill, here it is:

It’s also available in HD if for some reason you need to see my ample bottom more clearly.

2009 was the best year I have had in a very, very long time (well, minus the whole Bobby thing). I feel like I’m finally putting my life back together after the Great Depression, and I’ve had enough energy to really experience things. We’ve met a whole bunch of great new people, rekindled some old friendships, and made a conscious decision to surround ourselves with positive people.

What made 2009 so great for me was all the hiking we got to do, so, without further ado, here are my favorite trips from the year, sorted by month. (I think it’s about time I took a refresher course in comma usage.) (The same goes for parentheses.)

January The year started off strong when a weather inversion let us drive up through the freezing clouds and enjoy an amazingly warm and beautiful snowshoeing trip to Artist Point and Huntoon Point by Mount Baker.

February JK and Carlos carried skis up to McClure Rock on Mount Rainier while I led on foot. It was nice for me to not carry 243 gajillion pounds of ski gear on the way up, but they certainly had more fun on the way down.

March The weather was iffy in March, so we took advantage of a sunny Thursday and skied up to High Hut. This was my first real cross-country skiing trip in five years or so, and it left me doubting the validity of my Norwegian passport. It sure was purdy up there though!

April We finally hiked (well, snowshoed) up to Camp Muir like we had been talking about for ages. 10,188 feet is the highest I have ever been, and I loved it, thin air and all.

May My first time snow camping and our first volcano summit, Mount St. Helens. The weather and the views were spectacular.

June I got to hike in and stay in camp while JK and the rest of the mountaineering class summited Mount Baker. I wish I could have joined them all the way, but I’ll have time for that later.

July The swimming and views more than made up for the horrendous mosquitoes on our backpacking trip to Spectacle Lake (but from now on I think we’ll save lakeside overnighters for September/October to avoid the little buggers).

August I joined two great ladies from nwhikers.net on a three-day ramble around Tank Lakes. This was my first backpacking trip without JK, but the scenery was so freaking gorgeous that I forgot all about him. ;)

September My favorite hiking month in Washington; the mosquitoes are gone but the lakes are still warm enough for swimming. The sunrise over Robin Lake was the prettiest one of the whole year, it was so hot that we simply had to swim, and JK and I had a wonderful time together on this trip.

October Aah, larch month. Our trip to Black Peak (well, just Wing Lake for me) was my 2009 favorite – golden larches, gorgeous lakes and great company, followed by car camping and the best campfire the world has ever known. (I could do without the snowy boulder field of doom though.)

November We spent most of November at home with Bobby since he was sick, but we managed to sneak in an excellent snowshoe outing to Mount Rainier where we climbed above the clouds to finally see some sun.

December Our trip to Skyline Ridge last week wins December since it was where I finally found the Christmas spirit I had been looking for all month. We also stumbled upon a rather plump white and black dog, which is always a plus.

Other highlights In April/May we went to Utah and Nevada to escape the snow and stock up on vitamin D. It was a week of absolute bliss; nothing but love and red rocks. Aaah. I never got around to writing a trip report here on my blog, but there’s one on nwhikers.net.

I also went on my first solo hiking trip and my first solo backpacking trip this year – there will definitely be more of those.

I have high hopes for 2010 – I want to get over my ridiculous fear of heights for long enough to try an (easy) alpine climb, and hopefully we’ll be heading back to Norway at some point to explore the mountains of home. Wherever we end up going, if it’s half as pretty as what I saw in 2009, I’ll be happy.

For us, Christmas begins on the 23rd, Little Christmas Eve. Since we knew we wouldn’t be getting a white Christmas in Redmond this year, JK took the day off so we could find some snow in the mountains instead. Out of sheer laziness, we went back to Skyline Ridge. I was there just a couple of weeks ago, but it’s short, easy, doesn’t require any planning, and it seemed like the perfect place for JK to try his new randonnée skis. I followed him on snowshoes.

We had been promised sun, but skies kept changing from blue to grey to white to yellow and pink, which made for some eerie light but unfortunately blocked our views to the north. As we climbed above the Stevens Pass ski area, we got some excellent views into the Alpine Lakes Wilderness.

The local views weren’t bad either – after listening to Alvin and the Chipmunks in the car on the way up, the snowy trees were all it took to finally get my into the Christmas spirit. Bliss!

(If anyone has any tips on taking photos of snow on overcast days, please share – mine always come out dull, grey and flat, even if I overexpose the shot.)

Mount Daniel was looking particularly handsome and dramatic:

As we rounded the lake, I spotted a familiar white and black dog in the forest. It was Jasper and his dad, Tom, on the way back from a peakbagging adventure on the other side of the ridge. They joined us for the rest of our trip (even though it meant they had to go back up to the rock garden), which was good for me so I could have some company on the way down while JK skied.

JK made it all the way back to the car without falling (or so he claims), and then we headed home to get started on the nut loaf and risengrynsgrøt…and the donning of gay apparel.

Speaking of miracles, I have fallen in love…with a vegetable. I’ve had an aversion to spinach ever since a regrettable episode four years ago involving me, a salad, and some slightly soggy spinach that had been in our fridge just a tad too long. Did you know that when spinach is past its prime, it tastes like fish? Nas-tay.

Well, after reading about green smoothies all over Bloglandia for about a year now, I decided it was time for me to grow up, get over my gag reflex and give the Wonder Green a chance. That’s right – I’m putting spinach in my smoothies! I’ve adopted Angela‘s term for the concoctions, Green Monsters. The most shocking thing is that they taste good, and after having them for breakfast a couple of days, I actually started craving them. I usually only crave chocolate and potatoes (in various shapes and forms), so this was a welcome surprise.

My basic recipe is:

Green Monster

2 tbs frozen berries (you can add more, but it will make your smoothie look very…brown)

1/2 banana

1 cup hemp milk (or soy/rice milk)

4 cups spinach and/or kale

1 scoop Amazing Grass (hippie superfood stuff)

a couple of ice cubes

a dash of cinnamon

In order to mix it up once in a while, I use different greens, add some extra stuff like parsley or cucumber, and I also made a very good holiday themed Green Monster where I used pumpkin instead of berries and added cloves and ginger. Mmm. I’ll have to make that one again for Christmas. For your first couple of smoothies you can use more berries and less spinach so you can get used to the taste.

I’ve been drinking these for breakfast for about a month now, and it feels great to know that I’ve consumed about 326 servings (ballpark figure) of veggies before the day has even begun. I’ve also had much fewer headaches and migraines even though I’ve been fairly stressed out these last few weeks, which makes sense since I am finally getting some nutrients into my body.

Even Bobby likes Green Smoothies – when he was at his worst and wouldn’t eat any of the tasty things we tried to give him, I caught him licking the leftover smoothie in my glass. After some quick googling (sorry honey, “binging”), I found these pet safe green smoothie recipes and started making him a mini Green Monster every day. Whenever I used the blender, he would come up to me and wag his tail! It was pretty much the only thing he would eat before he got his medicines and his regular appetite back.

Hopefully eating all this spinach is going to make both of us as strong as Popeye (but without the unfortunate medical problems):

He actually started doing significantly better within 24 hours of his first dose (and after three days I caught him trying to hump Wellie – must be the ‘roid rage)! It’s so good to have our old Bobby back – and it’s such a relief to see him eating again. As you can see, we definitely need to fatten him up after a month and a half of being sick.

Part of Operation Lard Dog was to make our annual batch of holiday gingerbones for the dogs. Bobby and Wellie (and certain other stout friends of theirs) love these, especially the ones shaped like Italian Greyhounds. If you want to make them for your pups, you can find the recipe here (it’s from an old issue of The Bark magazine).

Here’s a totally gratuitous photo of us from JK’s office party on Saturday. It has nothing to do with the rest of the post, but I wanted to show it since we’re not wearing sweaty, grubby hiking clothes. And because JK wore his snazzy hat. Sadly, our evening was cut short because I had a major shoe fail. Yes, that’s blood. Ouch.

(I look so tired in photos lately – it certainly doesn’t help that I haven’t been sleeping well this fall. Aargh. If anyone has an under eye, anti-puff cream that actually works, please share. Or maybe something that could make me sleep that’s not some sort of evil pharmaceutical product.)

Anyway, we did manage to get out of the house a couple of times this week in spite of the cold. Before the holiday party, JK and I went for a quick run on Cougar Mountain (must get LONG running pants, brr!), and on Sunday we hiked up to good old Rattlesnake Ledge (the bump behind us in the photo up there) with Andre and Ellie.

On Wednesday, Ellie, Suz and I braved the forecast (-7°F* with the wind chill – luckily that wind never showed up and the sun was out in full force to keep us warm) and drove up to Stevens Pass for some snowshoeing.

The thing about hiking in the cold is that as long as you keep moving, you stay nice and toasty…but if something happens and you’re stuck up there waiting for help, you’re a wee bit screwed. So even though I was hiking in nothing but my thermal underwear and a soft shell layer, my pack was stuffed to the brim with all sorts of warm and puffy layers. I also heated up my water at home before I put it in my pack so it wouldn’t freeze.

Anyway, we snowshoed up to Skyline Ridge, a short and sweet hike with a great payoff. According to my GPS it’s only 3 miles with 1300 feet of elevation gain, and we got views of Mount Stuart and Daniel behind the Stevens Pass ski area and Glacier Peak and the Mountain Loop peaks to the north. Nom nom nom. I took more photos when JK and I went there in January (because my fingers weren’t as cold that day).

Supposedly the temperature is going to rise a little bit over the weekend, which might bring a bit of lowland snow – that would do wonders for my hitherto non-existent Christmas spirit. I think I have to go into some sort of holiday boot camp mode this weekend to see if I can get in the mood. Maybe I’ll have to bring out the big guns and watch National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation two weeks early. *gasp*

*that’s -21°C for my fellow Celsiites

Item number one on the agenda is to let you all know that Bobby is ok – a lethargic tiny lump of skin and bones, but ok. The vets have taken approximately 34,204 tests, but no one has been able to figure out what’s wrong with the little guy. Last week he was eating a little bit and seemed to have some energy, but over the last couple of days he’s been slowing down again. It’s so frustrating to see him so skinny and uncomfortable when I have no idea what I can do to help him.

We haven’t been hiking much on the weekends lately (we replaced it with a wholesome activity known as eating), but on Sunday we had an unseasonably amazing day on Rainier. Our friends Andre and Ellie had never seen the Mountain from Paradise (despite several attempts), so we decided we would go snowshoeing and prove to them once and for all that there is, in fact, a rather large volcano there.

Unfortunately the weather didn’t seem to be cooperating when we arrived, but we held strong in hope that we could climb our way above the clouds.

At around 7300 feet, we could see hints of blue skies, sun, and – could it be?? – Mount Rainier! Many huzzahs were heard and there was much clicking of cameras. Andre and Ellie’s curse had finally been broken!

We synthesized as much vitamin D as possible, then headed back down since the days are disgustingly short this time of year in Washington.

The hike back down was spectacular; all the clouds and fog lifted, we could feel the warm sun on our faces, and the glissade down from Panorama Point was the most fun I’ve had in weeks. As a bonus, the falling temperature had formed an evil death crust on top of the snow – the faceplanting skiers provided us with much amusement.

Wending our way down to the parking lot, we ran into another couple of friends – Tom and Amy!

Of course no trip to Paradise is complete without a fox sighting. This handsome fella (or gorgeous gal, what do I know) was skulking around the parking lot looking for handouts. I guess people are still feeding them even after what happened to Pickles the Fox – the foxes have started walking into the road when they see cars approaching, which cannot possibly end well.

Not too shabby for a hike this time of year! November in Washington is a notoriously (well, among hiker folks, not normal people) bad hiking month since the weather tends to be utterly craptastic and there’s usually not enough snow cover for skiing, but this was certainly one of my favorite trips this year (yes, I know I always say that).

At least I’m getting to spend a lot of quality couch time with him – that’s always been our thing, being all snoozy and lazy together. The very first time we met, he curled up behind my legs on the couch and immediately stole my heart. It was love at first spoon.

(Thanks to my digital Library of Memories, it was incredibly easy to find pictures of the two of us together. These photos span 2002-2009, but they were all in one folder, ready to use.)

Bobby is doing better, but is still very lethargic and generally not himself – but he’s still enough of a gentleman to tell me to say thank you for all the well wishes!

Anyway, it was becoming increasingly clear that I needed some outdoor time, especially when the weather on Sunday defied the forecast and provided both sun and blue skies. We couldn’t leave poor Bobs alone at home all day and go for a real hike, so we drove to Tiger Mountain for a quick trail run with Wellie.

Once again we proved that the combination of sun/fresh air/endorphins is absolutely magical and beats any sort of drug, and once again I proved that I am in absolutely horrendous shape. Still, I loved it so much that we went running on Monday too, in the Redmond Watershed Preserve which is relatively close to our house. So much nicer than running on asphalt. Or a treadmill.

We didn’t want to carry our big, heavy lump of an SLR while running, so we decided to try our new compact camera, a Panasonic Lumix TS1 (yes it really is that orange).

I’ve been wanting a compact camera so I can take more photos when we’re out with friends and I don’t feel like bringing a suitcase-sized purse for my camera, so we figured we should go for a waterproof (good for photos of Wellie swimming) and shockproof (good for downhill skiing where we will inevitably take quite a few splendid spills) version. I’m underwhelmed by the results so far, but I guess I should at least attempt to read the manual and not base my judgment solely on photos from a dark forest before I talk smack about the camera. Either way I have to stop expecting SLR-type results from the tiny little thing.

In April we went for a hike in Eastern Washington and he came home with a mysterious and rather evil-looking bite on the inside of his leg. The vet had no idea what it could be (it showed up too soon to be a tick bite, and the tick-borne disease tests the vet took later all came back negative), but sent him home with a bunch of antibiotics just in case.

Ten days later, he developed a high fever, diarrhea and vomiting, so we took him back to the vet. He had to stay overnight because of the fever and dehydration, but they had no idea what had caused it.

In June, he slipped off a log into Annette Lake and came up very grimy and green, and a couple of days later he was sick again. Same symptoms, another overnight vet trip, countless tests and no results.

After this he was healthy all summer (except for some random days when he seemed lethargic and warm), and then suddenly last week he got a high fever and a very enlarged lymph node on his neck. This time he had to stay at the vet’s for two nights, they ran all sorts of tests and x-rays and poked and prodded him all over the place, but they still have no idea what is causing all of this.

He’s back at home now (on two different antibiotics and a painkiller) and is slowly getting better, but I feel so sorry for him. I just want to find out what’s wrong so it won’t keep happening every other month. Before this year, he never had any health problems at all, but now it seems like his immune system has been compromised and any little thing (like falling into the lake) will set him off. We’ve decided to retire him from hiking, at least until we figure out what’s wrong.

I have known and loved Bobby for eight and a half years now (the little nose bear stole my heart the first time I met him, which was also the first time I met JK), and I don’t even want to think about not having him in my life.

Being in the U.S. makes it hard *not* to appreciate the changing of the seasons though…ok, so it’s slightly annoying that the stores put out their Christmas displays in September, but I love all the seasonal foodstuffs (of course I do) like cider and pumpkin spice anything and the general excitement about fall. Corn mazes, pumpkin patches, insane Halloween decorations, I love it. Wellie gives the season four paws up too:

I finally started working out again, so that might be part of the reason why I feel so disgustingly content these days too. Ok, so I’ve been hiking throughout the summer, but going for a walk once a week really isn’t enough to shift lard from this bucket or maintain a somewhat consistent influx of endorphins. It feels great even though any positive effects I may have garnered so far must have been negated by my alcohol intake over the last week (as it turns out, happy autumn time = beer) – after a particularly festive the night before, I felt like I was sweating pure hops yesterday at the gym. Ugh.

Anyway, I don’t really know what the point of this post was except to say that I like autumn and that I have a very cute dog who seems to agree.

Mount Pilchuck fit the bill for a short, easy, and hopefully-blister-free hike – plus there’s a lookout at the top, so it’s an interesting destination even if you don’t have any views…which we didn’t. Still, it was a great day out with our friends; the fresh snow made everything look all Christmasy and gorgeous, and we got quite a bit of sunshine even though the clouds obscured most of our views. Best of all? I came home with toasty, dry feet (impressive considering the trail was basically a stream on Saturday) and not a single blister. Huzzah!

(By the way, I hereby officially declare that Washingtonians are NOT allowed to complain about the weather right now after the amazing spring and summer we’ve had. Rain is both expected and necessary in October/November, and if I catch anyone whining about it from now on I will smack them upside the head with a get-some-perspective stick. If you can’t handle the one really over-exaggerated cliché about this area, then move somewhere else and stop dragging us all down with your negativity. Harumph!)

Part of the process was to go through my old scrapbook pages to see whether my “storytelling” was up to snuff. While doing that, I pulled out these pages to put in the Yesterday & Today album. They’re all strangely coordinated – maybe I should keep the green/brown/beige thing going throughout the album? Meh, that might get boring.

Good things I found when going through my pages:

- lots of journaling, whether short or long. I especially liked the ones where I wrote like I talk and it felt like my personality (as annoying as it may be) came through.

- layouts with multiple photos, simple design – keeping embellishments as accents and focusing on the words and the photos.

- white space! The layouts that had some breathing room were my favorites.

Not-so-good things I found:

- most of my earliest pages didn’t have any journaling, not even a little note about the time, place or people in the photos. I used to think I would always remember those things, but now I can’t even recall the names of the people I went to high school with. How sad is that, by the way?

- a whole bunch of “purposeless” layouts that were more about using a photo I thought was cool than actually documenting what was going on in our lives.

- I want to make more mini albums, more pages about our families, more pages about everyday life – not just about hiking…

- I love enlarging my photos, but sometimes they’re just too big. It’s better to have some white space around a smaller photo and let it breathe.

- chipboard letters that have fallen off since I made the layout. This drives me nuts – don’t market it as self-adhesive if it can’t even stick to a piece of paper for a year!!

- writing the full journaling in my handwriting (little snippets are ok) – it’s not just ugly, it’s totally illegible. A couple of days ago we were (privately) making fun of a car salesman’s handwriting (because he was a loathsome, lying swine of a human being who deserves to be mocked), and I realized I am not in any position to make fun of other people’s scribbles. But at least my handwriting doesn’t look like a second grader’s. Unless it’s a really, really drunk second grader.

- layouts with paint, inking and various other attempts at being “artsy”, which clearly I am not. I’ll stick to my simple style.

We found a site (right next to the bathrooms, it would make the nocturnal calls of nature easier to bear in the cold) and got a campfire started as fast as possible. Then we lingered in front of said fire for three whole hours, chatting, eating soy dogs and generally enjoying the feeling of warmth.

The night was surprisingly comfortable; in fact I have never slept so well in a tent before. We brought several tons of extra blankets, but in the end, all it took was an extra sleeping bag and a real pillow for me to feel nice and toasty and sleep through the night.

In the morning we spent another four hours in front of the campfire before finally peeling our butts off the camping chairs and heading out on an easy, relaxing and very scenic hike to Blue Lake. Excellent views for minimal effort, and we got a good look at the route Carlos climbed up Liberty Bell in August.

I think this was my favorite weekend of the entire year (so far!). It was great to finally hang out with Carlos again, and to hike with Tom, Tisha and Steve, even though we ended up camping separately. Add a feast of larch trees and a bunch of lakes, and that’s pretty much my recipe for pure happiness. The campfire didn’t hurt either, I am officially a car camping convert. Big thanks to all my fellow larch hunters for making this such a memorable week!

Our destination was Black Peak, sharing part of the trail with the Maple Pass hike I had done earlier in the week. Since we were just dayhiking, we planned to join the backpacking crew to the lake below Black Peak and turn around while they scrambled up (but we all brought our climbing helmets just in case).

The first part of the trail was easy, especially for those of us carrying day packs instead of heavy winter overnight packs. Moahaha. The exhaustingly long talus field over to the first lake was covered in 4-5 inches of snow, which made it even more interesting for the poor bastards carrying heavy loads.

We sat down to rest and have a snack by the beautiful, avocado-colored Lewis Lake. I’ve been wanting to go there all season, so I was all giddy and happy to finally have made it.

The larch porn up there was incredibly arousing, and there was much oohing and aahing and unsightly drooling as we made our way up to Wing Lake.

When we reached Wing Lake, we realized that JK and Carlos would have a shot at reaching the summit of Black Peak (and making it back in time to cross the Talus Field of Doooom before dark) as long as they moved fast.

I volunteered to stay behind at the lake since a) I would slow them down too much to summit, b) I would most likely be terrified by the exposed scramble up there and c) I prefer lakes anyway, especially when they’re turquoise and surrounded by larches. Nom nom nom.

While I bundled up in all my layers and some borrowed camping accessories from Tom and Tisha, the rest of the gang headed up towards the summit. Apparently it was pretty sketchy, especially getting up the summit block and crossing a sphincter-tightening, snow-covered, narrow, hellish piece of rock over to the true summit. Let’s just say I’m glad I didn’t go, and I’m also glad JK prefers roped class 5 climbing to scrambling. Ugh.

Here’s a panorama of Carlos on the summit (I just realized the stitching process severed his hand – sorry Carlos!):

Four cold hours later, JK and Carlos finally made it back to the lake, happy to find me only partially turned into a popsicle. We hurried down from the lake and found ourselves crossing the talus field at dusk, just as the wind was picking up and blasting us from the valley. Brrr. I had the joy of finding a sucker hole in the snow and banging my shins (there is no body part more badly designed than the shin) and bending my hiking poles as I slipped between the rocks. Fun!

It was completely dark by the time we reached the main trail, so we switched on our head lamps – never go hiking without a head lamp, seriously – and covered the last couple of miles in no time. I love hiking in the dark (as long as the trail is good); I get into a sort of trance where all that exists is me, my feet, and stars as far as the eye can see.

35 minutes later we were back at the car, scurrying inside to turn on the heat, and then we drove east to try to find a campground where we could spend the night and warm our frosty behinds.

Tom wrote a very amusing trip report on nwhikers.net if you’re in the mood for lots and lots of photos (there are some great ones of the scramble!) and a chuckle or five.

Due to bad planning and general malaise, we missed out on last year’s larch season…and I have felt unreasonably bitter about it. This year I decided I was going to go larch hunting no matter what, so for months I had been planning to go backpacking the second weekend in October. As it turned out, I got to sneak in a bonus larch hike last Wednesday when Gabi planned a trip to Maple Pass in the North Cascades.

I have never driven that far for a dayhike before (three hours each way from Redmond – at least we were carpooling!), but man alive was it worth it. After some short switchbacks through the forest, we ascended a beautiful ridge with stunning views all around.

I had never been to this part of the state before, but I immediately fell in love with the peaks adorned with a light dusting of snow and the drier landscape we could see to the east.

Best of all? The larches. Oh yes, I finally got to see my precious trees. They did not disappoint – I don’t know whether it’s endearing or just plain sad that I can get this excited about plant life.

We strolled around the cirque above Lake Ann, taking pictures and breathing in the fresh mountain air, before reluctantly heading back to civilization and reality.

This is a trail I would definitely recommend to anyone – it will have to be next year though; it will be snowing up there all week – it’s an easy hike with huge payoffs (the trailhead is at 4800 feet, so you’re basically cheating your way into the high country), the trail is excellently maintained, and if you have any sort of soul, it will make you fall in love with the mountains forever. It’s also a loop hike, which makes it more interesting than the usual out-and-backs. The trail info can be found here.

I love fonts, they’re so pretty (well, some of them). Unfortunately I tend to hoard them, so my font list in Photoshop is getting unmanageably long (does anyone know of a way to make my favorite/most used fonts stick to the top of the list in Photoshop like they do in Word?) – yet I keep going back to the same ones over and over again:

One of my favorite things to do is mix fonts in my title – especially when I sneak a handwritten font in there (apparently I also have a penchant for bad puns):

I love printing the title directly on a photo, but sometimes I’ll make it overlap (I’ll make the design in Photoshop, print half of the title on the photo and the rest on cardstock, then piece them back together) so it looks like I used letter stickers:

Sometimes I’ll just use the outline of the font to mix it up a little. In Photoshop, set the Layer style > Stroke to whatever color and thickness you want, then change the main color of the font to your background color.

Of course one of the best things about using computer fonts is that you never run out of characters (unless you run out of ink, which tends to happen at the most inopportune times) – it’s perfect for mini albums where you’re using the same style on every page. I can add extra pages to my Southwest album two years from now and not have to worry about finding matching stickers. Huzzah!

(click the photos to embiggen)

For all my talk about what a lazy scrapbooker I am, it’s not actually so much about the laziness after all. It’s all a way to make scrapbooking easy and quick enough for me to continue with it as a hobby.

The honeymoon period between me and scrapbooking is definitely over; I no longer swoon over patterned paper or pay any sort of attention to new releases (when was the last time I even bought anything new?), and I have lost my creative drive to come up with fancy, new layouts every time I sit down to make a page…but I still love this hobby and what it stands for, and I love doing something with the bazillion photos JK and I take and the memories we make – and being lazy (oh, let’s just call it efficient!) allows me to keep doing that.

Speaking of the new season, last weekend we drove up to the Mount Baker Wilderness to see some autumn colors before the actual autumn weather set in. We chose Yellow Aster Butte, an easy and very scenic hike up to a gorgeous string of tarns. It’s very popular, but has enough campsites so it doesn’t feel crowded.

Even though the weather looked summery, it’s definitely starting to get colder out there. I bundled up in all sorts of clothes once we made it to camp, brrr.

We were planning to hike up some little knobs and peaks once we got there, but I’ve been feeling so lethargic lately (methinks it’s more mental than physical) that we settled for a nap and an afternoon walk instead.

We had dinner while watching a beautiful sunset, but when sunrise came, we weren’t motivated to do anything more than open up the tent flap and watch it from the comfort of our sleeping bags (henceforth to be known as our snooze-pods).

I’m assuming this will be the dogs’ last backpacking trip until next summer; their combination of minimal fur and even less body fat is not a good one for Pacific Northwest winters. They may not enjoy the alpine views as much as we do, but between all the walking, sniffing, peeing and chewing on sticks, I think they’re almost as excited about hiking as we are.

Luckily we ran into some people we know from nwhikers.net (I know, we’re geeks) so they could take this cute photo of our whole little family together – we’ll have to get better at asking random strangers to take photos of us in the future, we don’t have enough family portraits!

Anyway, I am so glad we went; I’ve been so tired lately that I was *this* close to staying home and sleeping instead. Note to self: tent trumps bed, every time.

I try to cull my photos at several stages in the camera-to-scrapbook process (actually, the eye-to-scrapbook process – I’m becoming more and more critical of what I choose to photograph. With a digital camera it’s way too easy to just snap away like mad, creating more work for when you get back to the computer. Bah!):

1) Looking through my photos in Lightroom, I delete the obvious losers (blurry, grainy beyond salvation, major exposure failage etc.) altogether, and then flag the ones I want to upload to flickr. Our flickr account is where we share our photos with friends and family, and I like to think of it as a backup in case all our hard drives crash or the house goes up in flames or something. I only edit the flagged photos.

2) Now comes the hard part – choosing which photos to scrapbook. I make an effort to include photos of us and our hiking partners on every page even if it means dropping a nature photo I love, because I think they will be more interesting to us in the future. I think I’m going to make a simple album with my favorite nature photos so I won’t have to worry about forgetting them.

I also save some photos to use for non-event, non-chronological scrapbook pages – instead of including this photo of JK and the pups on the Tuck and Robin layout, I’m going to save it for something else. Maybe a page about my favorite things? Or summer memories? Or how freaking cute my boys are? I store multiple usage photos like that one in a digital Library of Memories system.

3) Now for the actual scrapbooking part – I like to choose one or two photos to emphasize what I want to remember about the trip (these tend to be nature photos), then squeeze in the rest as supporting actors.

Since I am generally too lazy to come up with new, exciting designs all the time, my layouts tend to look very similar to each other. Case in point – the Tuck and Robin page looks a lot like the Mount Baker page I just made, and the Tank Lakes layout is based on a design from Cathy Zielske‘s Design Your Life class that I have already used on another page…and quite frankly the two layouts in this post look almost the same. I don’t care; I’m just happy to be scrapbooking and getting these memories down on paper.

The first couple of times we went hiking, I ended up making several scrapbook pages from each trip – if I had kept this up, my shelves would be full of not-very-interesting albums. I definitely prefer this more succinct (if I can use that word about photos) style of memory keeping, especially since I don’t really have room for many albums in our house to begin with. Maybe we should just build more shelves :o)

I wanted to go somewhere I had been before (with a short hike in in case I freaked out and wanted to run back home), so I decided on Gem Lake by Snoqualmie Pass – it’s a very popular hike, but I figured it wouldn’t be too crowded on a Tuesday night.

It did not in any way feel like the autumnal equinox when I started hiking, the sun was out in full force and hot enough (80′s!) to make me appreciate the shady bits of the trail. I passed a bunch of dayhikers (but no backpackers) and made it to Gem in exactly 2.5 hours, which is pretty good for me with a full pack – the pumpkin spice bread carbo load the night before must have worked its magic.

It was windy as all hell by the lake, which made it really difficult to set my tent up; various bits and pieces kept trying to blow away and the poles were bending all over the place. I ended up trying a couple different campsites before finding one that was sheltered enough for me to erect my lovely abode without major failage.

I spent the afternoon swimming, hiking up Wright Mountain, lazing around by the lake, reading and watching a colorless sunset. Another person had arrived and was camped on the opposite side of the lake, but I was far enough away to feel like I was all alone. The night was uneventful except for a fat little mouse running straight into my tent – I didn’t get a photo but drew a very lifelike (and most excellent if I do say so myself) sketch of the incident in my journal so JK could see it.

I thought I would be nervous sleeping out there alone, but I guess I’m so used to backpacking at this point that it just feels like home. Huzzah!

After more swimming and reading the next day, I reluctantly had to head back to civilization. At some point during the journey the middle seam of my shorts had ripped, so I had to hike the whole way back with my butt hanging out – my apologies to anyone walking behind me that day.

The hike up there seemed harder than the stats implied – I’m going to go ahead and blame it on the heat since even JK was exhausted – and the trail is a schizophrenic mix of flat and wide, steep and narrow and downright scrambly, but man alive was it worth it.

We knew that this place is popular, but it was still surprising to see tents dotting every available surface around the lake. The really weird thing was that most people didn’t get up to see the sunrise – they must not have realized what they were missing…

I’m becoming more comfortable taking photos now (the trip to Tank Lakes was good practice) instead of just handing JK the camera. Just one little step on the road to learning that I don’t necessarily suck at everything.

I took about 200 shots of the sunrise (seriously) before we snuck back into the tent to get some more sleep.

We had planned to scramble up Granite Mountain and check out some of the other lakes in the area, but instead we escaped the heat by napping and swimming. I loved just hanging around the lake, being lazy and talking to JK. I’ve been feeling tired and down in the dumps lately, so the endorphins, sunlight and good conversation did me a world of good. Our personal camp goat (we named him Aberforth) made it even better.

In the early afternoon we reluctantly packed our stuff and headed back down, stopping to swim in some of the lakes on the way. It was one of those perfect days I wish I could just bottle up and relive whenever things seem hopeless.

Since I have no original ideas these days (and that’s ok!), I stole Karla Dudley’s design (the digital pattern paper is also from Karla Dudley, but it’s a paper layout – I printed the background on cardstock before adding the photos) for Das Toof. I love JK’s photos from that climb!

I made On Top of Old Smokey to participate in Erin’s challenge over at Write.Click.Scrapbook. last week; I used one of my blog posts for the journaling. Easy and lazy, that’s how I like my scrapbooking!

The trail is as good as flat for the first five miles, then heads steeply up up up for a couple of miles until you reach the first lakes of the Necklace Valley. To be honest, the valley itself was a bit disappointing – I had pictured an Enchantments-like granite landscape dappled with lakes, but it was all below the timberline and not very impressive compared to the lakes I’ve become accustomed to seeing (I know, I’m spoiled). It’s still very pretty, but in my opinion not really worth it considering the b*tch of a hike in. The gorgeous stuff that makes it worth it is off-trail, up above the valley.

We hiked up on boulders and pretty granite to get to our destination, the ridiculously purdy Lower Tank Lake. By this point I had started gaining a new appreciation for my husband – this was my first backpacking trip without him and I’m used to him carrying all the heavy stuff!

All thoughts of sore legs and aching backs were forgotten when we reached the lake. This place is too pretty for its own good:

After a beautiful sunset and a huge dinner (I forgot that JK and I usually split a bag of those freeze dried meals – I had to force myself to eat a whole one so I wouldn’t have to carry all that weight back out. Ugh!), we settled down for the night and I had an excellent night’s sleep. While husbands are good for use as pack mules and general amusement, it’s definitely easier to sleep when they’re not snoring right next to you!

We spent the next day getting acquainted with the area, exploring the numerous lakes and tarns on the plateau. The girls convinced me to scramble up and along Otter Ridge, which looked terrifying to me from afar but turned out to be pure fun and with excellent views – it felt great to challenge my fear of heights just a little bit.

We moseyed on back to camp and spent a lazy afternoon swimming (ok, jumping in and immediately clawing our way back out, brrr!) in Lower Tank Lake, taking pictures and walking around on the plateau before turning in for the night.

My back was not happy about all the rock hopping I had done, so it kept me awake most of the night – I’m glad I brought a book and my Zune (and some codeine, ahem)!

The hike out on the third day felt like a bit of a death march – the sun was baking us to a crisp and the elusive woodland gnomes had been hard at work both elongating the trail and adding more ups and downs than we had on the way in. Stupid gnomes.

The hike was made easier by keeping this image in my head:

After 173 miles (or so it seemed), we finally reached the trailhead – I don’t think I have ever been so happy to see a car before! After a stop to replenish our bodies (mmm, potatoes), I went home to find poor JK still sick. He was impressed by all my badass-looking cuts and bruises (the joys of off-trail hiking!) and my mosquito bites.

I had hoped, rather naively, that the mosquitoes would have died by now, but the evil little buggers came out in full force on the second night. I HATE THEM SO MUCH. Oh well, at least I’ll have a multitude of sexy scars (it is physically impossible for me not to scratch a bite) to remind me of this trip for years to come.

Despite the death march, the heavy pack, the bloodsucking vampires, my disapproving back and some gnarly blisters, I think this was my favorite trip of the summer. We went to a beautiful place, I had great company, and I got to challenge myself by inching my way out of the protective little box where I usually live my life. I want more of that.

The official trip report is here – Karen and Anne’s photos are far superior to mine, so I recommend taking a peek!

Ok, so two weekends ago we were all set to go on a backpacking trip to Ptarmigan Ridge with a group of friends. I was concerned about my back, but the doctor said I could go if it was an easy trip (check), if I brought drugs (check check) and if I carried a light pack (check check check and huzzah) – so JK was my pack mule and carried all of the heavy stuff. I could get used to this kind of backpacking!

Unfortunately, one of our friends had hurt her foot the night before, so they were out. The curse struck again! JK and I set out alone with our two little trail pups and meandered around in the fog until we found a suitable campsite above the lake.

Even though the weather was less than stellar, we had a great time. It’s gorgeous up there even in the fog, my back felt pretty good and I was happy to be out and about with my little family again after being sick.

Bobby and Wellie were hard at work patrolling our campsite for rogue marmots and mountain goats:

The sun started burning through the clouds the next morning and made the lake look even prettier:

…and as we were hiking back to the car, the clouds lifted to reveal all the views we had missed the night before. So beautiful!!

Our original plan was to go on another backpacking trip that night, but JK had a fever and wasn’t feeling good and we had to drive back home with a measly 8 miles added to our Hike-a-thon mileage. At this point I realized I didn’t have a shot in hell at making my goal of 100 miles in August and was doing my best not to be stressed out about it.

After taking some deep breaths, I took in the view of Mount Shuksan in front of me and felt the taste of fresh huckleberries still on my tongue and realized how lucky I was to just be out there in the mountains. I’m disappointed about missing out on several of the big hikes and climbing trips we had planned for this summer, but I am not making the situation any better by being annoyed. Just because we’ve been “stuck” doing short and easy hikes, it doesn’t mean they’re worth less than the big trips. We’ve seen some very purdy scenery on those easy hikes!

I think a big part of my problem is that I feel like I wasted so many years being seriously depressed, and now I want to experience as much as I possibly can to catch up…so when I miss out on a planned trip, it feels devastating to me. I need to find a balance between being excited and being laid-back, between perfectionism and failure, between attachment and detachment. And most of all I need to just breathe and realize that we’ve only just begun.

(…and now I have The Carpenters stuck in my head.)

Just to show that we do in fact participate in non-hiking activities once in a while (although I do tend to stay attached to the couch for most of the day, cough cough), here are some photos from Tuesday afternoon.

We’re lucky enough to have a great friend who just happens to be a member of a sailing club so he can whisk melting Norwegians out on the lake during heatwaves. Thank you, Cap’n Andreas!

Yeah, that’s right – another heatwave. Luckily this one is not as hot and not as short as the absolutely brutal, suffocating scorcher we had in July, but I say it’s still a good excuse to get out on the water. Sailing is fantastic, especially when my only jobs on the boat are to relax and to duck when big beams come flying directly at me (that’s what she said).

Back pain update – I’m feeling so much better after taking some codeine (left over from the wisdom tooth extraction), stretching and going for a swim. I think the painkillers let my back muscles relax enough to loosen up whatever it was that was hurting so much. I went to the doctor today and he gave me permission to go backpacking (huzzah!) as long as I bring drugs (huzzah!) and don’t carry too much weight (huzzah huzzah huzzah!) – he thinks the back pain will subside within a couple of days, so I hope that’s true.

I really need to start doing some sort of core-strengthening program so this won’t happen again. Maybe it’s time to get back on the yoga mat.

Luckily I was feeling good enough on Sunday to go for a dayhike, but between two missed backpacking trips and one missed midweek hike, It will be a reach for my to hit 100 miles before the end of August.

I refuse to get stressed out about the mileage and ruin my favorite hobby, so we enjoyed our mellow hike to Upper Palisade and Hidden Lakes in Mount Rainier National Park. It was a free entrance weekend so we expected to see hordes of hikers, but we were mostly alone once we got past the first lake. This was a six-lake day for us in total, but I didn’t get to swim since I had just been sick. Boo! JK jumped in two of them while I soaked up the sun, smelled the flowers, and watched the pikas (and a fox!) – I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I love Washington!

The GPS said we hiked 9 miles for a total of 37 so far this month. Do you think I’ll make it to 100..?

I had a lot of fun making this one, it was refreshing to not just follow my same old structure. I think I am going to keep this up for all my hiking layouts from this year to make a little 8×8 album, I fell in love with that size when I made my desert scrapbook this spring.

Digital was definitely the way to go for this one as I could do it all while my sick self was planted firmly on the couch. Luckily, said sickness seems to be disappearing very quickly; the fever is gone and my throat is almost back to normal. This is very good news for our weekend plans, so now I am just crossing all crossable limbs in the hope that the weather will cooperate – I am very excited about this trip!

Ok, this is driving me crazy – I couldn’t decide whether to put “making lemons into lemonade” or “turning lemons into lemonade”. Hrmf. If you feel strongly either way (the rest of The Intertubes seems to be undecided), let me know so I can change it before printing. Aah, the joys of digital scrapbooking!

I dragged JK away from his FIFA game and we drove up to Snoqualmie Pass to revisit one of my favorite places, Melakwa Lake. JK had never been to the upper lake before, so I figured it would be a good place for us to go swimming.

The weather looked rather ominous as we hiked up to the lakes, but we were spared the predicted torrential downpour (Mother Nature was nice enough to save that for today) and even caught some glimpses of that big, glowing orb in the sky.

Since we started late (2 PM) we met hordes of people going down as we were hiking up, but by the time we made it up to the upper lake a little under two hours later, we had it all to ourselves. JK, Wellie and I jumped into the upper lake while Bobby hid under our backpacks, and then we ran to the lower lake so we could swim in that one too. Brrr!

We enjoyed a marvelously healthy lunch of JK’s homemade, Norwegian-style cinnamon buns (and biscuits for the Italians) and watched a pair of pikas frolicking in the talus field before reluctantly heading back down to the car.

On the way we found a side trail and stumbled across a waterfall we hadn’t seen before – I wish we had known about it during the heat wave since jumping into that little pool would have been absolutely heavenly when it was over 100 degrees outside… Yet another reason to love this hike!

Unfortunately I have spent today inside the house with a fever, sore throat and entertaining myself with some epic sneezing (seven times in a row!!), so it turns out that there was a reason why my head felt all heavy and fuzzy this weekend. If I had known I was getting sick, I would have been smart enough to not swim yesterday. Oh well!

Hopefully I’ll get better soon so I can get some more miles in for the Hike-a-thon, I’m a bit behind now since we didn’t get to go on the backpacking trip we had planned this weekend – now it really will be a challenge to get to 100 miles! I’m crossing my fingers for better weather (and less sneezing!) next week so I can get out a lot.

Melakwa Lake added 9 miles to the list, for a total of 28. Only 72 miles to go!