Change

It seems that when things start to change, the changes don't stop with just one thing. They snowball into changing everything in reach.

 

An old friend called me last week about a job opening in his company. I think I may be changing jobs right at the same time that my current company is being acquired, which happens to be the same time that I am graduating.

 

Nice timing, eh?

Strange day

It is only 8:39 in the morning and my day is having major mood swings.

1. I found out that someone for whom I have great admiration and respect died in a hiking accident the day before yesterday on Mt. Formidable.

2. My boss is trying to set me up on a blind date.

3. An ex-coworker from 3 or 4 years ago called me to tell me about a job opening in his company.

What could be next? I'm almost afraid to find out.

Spectacle Lake

When I told my compadres where I was spending the weekend, I got a lot of warnings about staying cool, staying hydrated, and loading up on sunscreen. I set out early and arrived at the Pete Lake trailhead at 6 am armed with a cotton shirt, a hat, a ton of Gatorade and salted almonds, and 40+ SPF gel. Luckily, I went one step further and brought lots of DEET. The moment I stepped out of the car I was swarmed with mosquitos. It was already 71 degrees, but there was a bit of cloud cover that I expected to burn off.

The four and a half miles to Pete Lake is just long and flat, nothing to look at, and the mosquitos never let up. I stopped by the shore of Pete Lake for a drink and a snack, swatting at everything that moved, and headed up. 

Just after Pete Lake the mosquitos thinned out. When I got to the Lemah Creek crossing, I saw how high, fast, and wide it was and decided it would be wise to add the extra 3/4 mile trip on the Lemah Meadows trail to join the PCT and take the footbridge route. Some of the PCT is a little overgrown, and some of the growth is Devil's Club. The rest of the overgrowth is just wet and full of spider webs. It was actually nice to get soaked walking through that - it was a nice cool-down.

Miles later of more uneventful trail and I finally hit the switchbacks up to the lake. Again, no views, but there was one rather fantastic, crashing waterfall that looked like something you'd see in Vegas or Disneyland. 

Right after that is the one big blowdown. A huge dead tree fell over the trail. You can't go over or around it, so you have to crawl under it. With a day pack, it might be a little more navigable than with an overnight pack. Over the whole trail, I saw one group of about 8, one other solo hiker, and two couples. All of them were going in the opposite direction. I was hoping for a lack of crowds, and I got it.

Finally, at long last, I got up to the first views of Three Queens and the peaks surrounding Spectacle Lake. It took me about 6 hours between leaving the car and getting to the lakeshore. I made my way down to the lake to find that I was alone and had my choice of campsites. I wandered down the first shoreline reached by the trail and did not find what I wanted. I went around the South shore and then North onto the large peninsula and found a campsite near the end with a view of the Western portion of the lakes and the peaks surrounding it: Huckleberry Mountain, Chickamin Peak, and Lemah Mountain. Heavenly! 
  
Eventually, two other campsites were tak en, and there was a group of 4 that fished and left, and one other solo hiker who stayed for a short time and left. The lake was very quiet.

I set up camp and ate lunch, then set out to find the trail to Glacier Lake. No such luck. I went back to camp and relaxed and took in the veiw, had a swim, watched the fish and the ducks, and relaxed some more. The cloud cover broke breifly a few times. The temperature hovered around the mid-nineties, but when the sun broke it shot up to 103. That gets a little uncomfortable, but that's what alpine lakes are for.  The sunset I hoped for did not materialize - too many clouds. It was nice, but not... well, not spectacular. I finally crawled into my tent and passed out. A deer woke me up around midnight, crashing around in the campsite, looking for leftovers or something.

I did not go up to Spectacle Point due to time and energy constraints (after hunting for the Glacier Lake trail for too long), but word is that there are still a couple of nasty snowfields on that portion of the PCT.

When I woke up this morning, it was already 64 degrees.  I ate and packed out, taking one last look for that Glacier Lake trail - for next time. I left the lake at about 6:30 and got back to the car, 11 miles later, at 11:15 and 88 degrees. I must have been in a hurry to get through the skeeters. I saw only 8 people on the trail this morning, all on their way up to Pete Lake.

Tuck and Robin

This week’s hike was a comedy of errors from the outset. Pictures are here.

I decided to hike Tuck and Robin. I had done it before, but this weekend’s weather forecast wasn’t great and I didn’t want to waste a marginal-weather weekend on a new hike. My pictures from the previous trip were great, and I felt no need to improve on them. I figured if my pictures from this trip didn’t turn out it wouldn’t matter.

I got to the trailhead early and started out at a very slow pace, knowing what was in store ahead. The first several miles are nearly flat, and they lull you into a false sense of security, making you think you can go full-speed. That just wears you out. The last two miles of the trail are a nightmare of roots, rocks, gravel, and straight up climbing – sometimes with a trail, sometimes just scrambling up over rocks marked by cairns.

First error: wrong boots. I chose the boots for this trip because I wanted good ankle support. These boots used to work just fine for me, but for some reason they don’t anymore. Last time I wore them I got a blister, and this time was no different. The best thing to prevent a blister that I have found is duct tape. As soon as you have a hot spot, slap on some duct tape. However, I didn’t have any this time. To prevent a blister, I tightened up my laces and changed my pace. That hurt my ankles, but it was better than a blister. So now, my ankles are swollen and bruised.

The trail from the turnoff from the Deception Pass Loop trail up to Tuck Lake sucks. There’s really no other way to put it. It sucks out loud. As I said above, rocks, roots, gravel, straight up. I hate it. I got to Tuck Lake after seeing only two people on the trail. Tuck is a beautiful lake with a little island that looks like it should have been in Myst or Riven or one of the Lord of the Rings movies. It is a little barren and primeval while being lush and colorful at the same time. It looks a little unreal, especially in sunlight, especially since the water is so clear and so blue that you can see all of the rocks under the water and watch the fish. I stopped there for a break and headed up to the Robin Lakes.

The trail past Tuck Lake and Tuck’s Pot gives a nice preview of what the trail is like all the way up to the Robin Lakes. If you follow the trail closest to Tuck Lake, you end up climbing up, over, down, and around until you get to the logjam, which you cross to find the trail on the other side. Then you do some more climbing up and over and down and around, eventually with great views of Tuck’s Pot and Mt. Daniel, until you reach the end of Tuck Lake. That’s when you start climbing in earnest. It is about 900 feet of elevation gain from the end of Tuck Lake up to Lower Robin Lake. And it isn’t even a mile.

Up, up, up. Roots, rocks, handholds, footholds, up, down, around, through, follow that cairn, brace yourself here, haul yourself up with that branch, stick your foot up against that tree trunk while you jam your pack into that crevice for leverage and pull yourself up with your fingernails, don’t take that trail because it leads to a cliff, follow that cairn up there instead and then spot the next one. Eventually you run out of trail and all you have left is big, broken slabs of granite that you walk straight up. Not to the left – that gives a very difficult gully to climb down to get to the lake. Not to the right – that just leads to the end of the lake and adds time and distance. Follow the cairns up the middle. You see two really big cairns next to each other, like a gateway to the land of the cairns. After that, all bets are off. You can go any way you want to. Some of the cairns on the left lead to a trail that takes you down to Lower Robin Lake. Others just lead you around the end of the lake, which is great if that is what you want. Other cairns were placed for fun or some other inexplicable reason.

My welcome back to the lakes consisted of seeing the gateway cairns and a goat sticking its head out from behind a rock. Yay, goats! That is what I was hoping for. I climbed up the knob at the outlet of Lower Robin Lake, overlooking Cathedral Rock, Mt. Rainier, Mt. Daniel, Granite Mountain, and Mt. Hinman, and set up my campsite. The goats joined me shortly thereafter. I think I had 8 or 9 of them with me for a while.

Second error: For the record, that partly cloudy forecast was direly incorrect. There wasn’t a cloud anywhere over the Robin Lakes. But it was only in the low 70s, so it didn’t occur to me to put on sunscreen. You can guess what I’m leading you to. So anyway.

After the long and tiring trek up to the lakes, I was tired. I decided to whip up some chicken and rice for dinner. I boiled the water, poured the two cups of water into the freeze-dried food bag, and sealed it. I waited my 8 minutes for my lovely hot dinner. I opened up the zippered bag… and 8 or 9 little goat heads whipped around to stare at me. They could smell the salt. Uh oh. Two of the biggest goats stood up. They sparred a bit to determine who would dine on chicken tonight. The biggest one won and came at me. I backed away, telling the goat that good goats don’t eat chicken and rice, it is bad for their cholesterol levels and that goats are vegetarians and wouldn’t like my dinner. It didn’t work. Finally, the goat had me cornered and was about 3 feet from me, and like a moron I decided to treat him like a dog. I pointed at him and said “NO!” in a rather harsh tone. He blinked and gave me one of those, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me” looks and walked back to the herd and lay down. Hmmm. Interesting. Can goats really have facial expressions? Probably not, but that’s how I chose I read it.

As it cooled off, the wind picked up. The temperature started dropping rapidly. I watched the goats for a while, watched the lake for a while, and watched the sun setting for a while. I saw what I think was an eagle catching a fish and fly away toward the South. I read my book for a while and had a victory beverage. It got colder. And colder.

Third error: I made a stupid assumption. All of the other hikes I’ve done this year had temperatures above 60 at night. I assumed that this one would be no different. On the last several hikes, I took my North Face Blue Kazoo sleeping bag, which is good down to 30 degrees. Way too hot. So this time, I took my summer weight bag, good down to 55 degrees. The nighttime temperature fell to 41 degrees. I had all of my clothes on in my tent in my sleeping bag and I couldn’t sleep because I was shivering too hard. I was worried that I would end up hypothermic. Luckily, I was just very uncomfortable and ultimately undamaged.

I got up this morning and it was still in the 40s. I decided that I would not be staying another night because I didn’t have my good sleeping bag, and instead I would go visit the Granite Mountain Potholes after eating breakfast, then I would pack out. The Potholes are a little series of tarns just past Upper Robin Lake. I tried to light my stove to boil water.

Fourth error: your mileage may vary with stove lighting methods. I carry a lighter. Before each hike, I shake it to see how much fuel is in it. There was plenty. Today, I couldn’t get it to light. I think the flint was worn down, I don’t know. I had a brief panicky moment where I thought I would have to ask another camper for a light (so gauche, such a n00B move), and then I remembered that for the first time ever, for no discernable reason, I had packed matches! I dug them out of my first aid kit (Why there? I don’t know.) and got the stove lit on the second try. I had a nice hot oatmeal breakfast and started cleaning up the camp.

Back to the goats. The first time I was up there, they weren’t the least bit aggressive. They are now. I had them following me around regularly because they were waiting for me to pee. They want the salt. Yes, it’s gross, but that’s the way it works. I had to keep shooing them away. At one point while I was getting ready to go off to the Potholes, I was walking past a goat and her kid, and I was giving them plenty of space. And yet, she came at me like she was going to headbutt me, and then stomped her feet at me. I stomped back at her before realizing that I might be accepting some kind of a challenge, but she just gave me a “pardon me, I must have lost my mind for a moment there” look, and she left.

I headed for the Potholes. They’re pretty easy to find, but the trail isn’t exactly great. If you follow the trail around Upper Robin Lake, you see there are a number of trails. They eventually converge into one very narrow, steep track that drops straight down part of the shoreline, then becomes easier and heads up to the Potholes. However, there’s still quite a lot of snow up there. It is very hard packed and slick, so I gave up trying to walk on it and headed up the rocks to the left. You can follow some good game trails. It is an interesting little area. I think the flora is a little different from what is around the lakes, and it is very quiet. I could see no campsites, but there may be some under the snow. After wandering for a short time, I decided to pack out and I headed back to the campsite.

I got everything packed up and got the pack on my back. I turned to take one last look at the lakes. It is so pretty up there. I really love the area. I felt so bad about leaving so soon, but I will just have to go back someday. I miss it already. Away I went.

The trip up the trail to the lakes is bad. Going down that trail is even worse. You get winded and fatigued going up, but your joints take a terrible beating on the way down. I made it to Tuck Lake in about an hour, and my knees were bothering me. A short way past Tuck Lake, my right knee and hip decided they didn’t want to play anymore and they took their ball and went home. I struggled for a while, favoring my right leg, mostly using my left leg and relying heavily on my trekking poles. Eventually they came back to play, but they pouted the rest of the way down. Then my left knee decided it wasn’t happy anymore either. By the time I got back to my car, both my legs were pissed off, stiff, sore, creaky, and weak. Driving home was a great treat. I’m hoping they recover by Monday, but I may be asking for too much.

To sum up: stunning alpine lakes, glacier carved basin, mountain goats, wild flowers and heather, fantastic weekend. Did I mention mosquitoes? No? That’s because there were none! Make that a perfect weekend.

Deep Lake: July 15, 2006

No trip report just yet. Pictures are at http://community.webshots.com/album/552311123swTGdg

 

 

Yet another media frenzy

Two hikers, women, were found murdered on the trail to Pinnacle Lake this week. Everyone who knows me knows that I hike alone, so they are all freaking out. I'm not freaking out. Millions of people hike the trails here. Literally millions. Of them, three have been murdered. I have a better chance of winning the lottery, being struck by lightning, or getting attacked by a bear or mountain lion.

 

So this weekend, I'm going hiking. Alone. Miles and miles in the wilderness, on a trail that I am hoping is painfully unpopulated. And as always, I will be aware of every person I see and every noise I hear, but I'm not going to let it stop me.

 

I do so hope that they catch whoever killed these women. Their friends and family have been posting a multitude of messages at NWHikers.net and they sound like wonderful people. We have so few people who inspire so many, and it is such a shame to lose them. I don't hope that they catch the killer as much for my own safety and the safety as others as for the memory of two people who have positively touched so many.

"Do you guys wanna see a dead body?"

The commute was less than uneventful today. It was far too eventful.

I pulled into the parking garage and noticed two cops sitting across the street. I thought that was a little odd. Then I noticed that the garage was nearly empty. I thought that was a little odd, too. I saw people standing on the platform with the guards, so I figured it was just one of  those days when people were taking a later train or just not going to work. I heard a train whistle right about the time I was going to get out of my car, and decided that it would be prudent to take the skybridge to the platform instead of trying to cross the tracks, because I didn't want to get stuck on the wrong side of the tracks if it was a big freight train coming. As I walked to the skybridge, I saw a freight train parked on the tracks below. I thought that was a little odd as well. After reaching the platform, I found out what happened.

Yet another train hit and killed yet another pedestrian in Kent.

The big freight train that was sitting on the tracks was the train that hit the person. The person was crossing the tracks where there was no actual crossing, just South of Highway 18, and somehow missed the gigantic train with the blaring 110-decible horn and the blinding Cyclopean headlight bearing down on them at 30-50 miles per hour on the flat straight-away through Kent. (My tone may indicate to you that I think this person was a moron. You would be right to infer that.)

The freight train, naturally, had to stop. The freight train was so long that it was blocking at least two streets that cross the tracks, so I'm sure Kent traffic is something of a nightmare this morning.

The body, unfortunately, was under the train when it finally managed to stop 1/2 mile later. It was a very long train. They unlinked the cars near the body and pulled the engine forward so that they could get at the body, which was covered with a white sheet or blanket when we passed. Naturally, the Sounder train audience ooh-ed and ahh-ed when they saw it. Morning commuters love a drama.

Welcome to Thursday.

Jake Shimabukuro

Last night after work, I went with Ken and Brad to the Triple Door to see Jake Shimabukuro play his ukelele. I won't bother describing it, you have to hear it to get it. He's amazing. Try http://www.jakeshimabukuro.com/ and see if you can find a sample. There's also a clip of him floating around on the Internet somewhere of him playing a George Harrison song called "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" in Central Park. Not only is he a virtuoso player, he's fun to listen to between songs. If you have a chance to see him, go for it. You won't regret it, regardless of how you feel about what you know of the ukelele. 

 

I also highly recommend the food at Wild Ginger. I had the Vegetarian Squash Curry, and it was so good I could hardly stand it. The cinnamon bread pudding was pretty fantastic, too.

 

Good lord, that's twice in one month I've been out with other people this year. That makes... um... twice this year I've gone out with other people! Wow, I'm so popular.

Rachel, Lila, and the Ramparts

Did I go hiking this weekend? Why, yes! Yes, I did.

 

I had school on Saturday, so the moment I finished my final I was out the door and on my way to the trail. I started up the trail to Rachel Lake at 2:05 pm. Way too late, way too hot. There were lots of people there - the parking lot was full. I passed too many people to count, all of whom were on their way out. I got to Rachel Lake at about 4:00, which is pretty good. I did the first three miles in one hour, and the fourth mile in about an hour. That is one nasty mile of trail! There's still a bit of snow, but nothing difficult to deal with. I sat at the lake for a few minutes, ate an apple, drank some water, and threw the pack back on and headed up to Lila Lake.

 

The slope behind Rachel Lake is snow free, which is deceptive. The moment you reach the ridge, there is snow, and plenty of it. I followed the footprints of others, praying that I would not posthole through it. I didn't have any problems, but there was great potential for injury in a few spots. There were occasional bare patches of ground, but the snow patches got larger and the bare patches got smaller as I approached the lake. Still, I found a nice bare patch of flat rock to set up camp near a couple of the streams of snowmelt. I had a nice relaxing evening, watching the sunset and eating dinner, taking pictures of every little thing. There was only one other occupied camp that I could see, and they were on the other side of the lake. I went to bed around 9:00. It had been a long day.

 

I woke up at 11:00 with a big light shining on my tent. I climbed out to find out who the heck was waking me up. Oh. It was a nearly full moon. It was a very bright moon, with a crystal clear sky. I wandered around in the dark with my bare feet, enjoying the cool night air and the view of the mountains and lake. It was bright enough that I didn't need any artificial light to get around. I love that! It was about 60 degrees, so it was very comfortable. I was expecting it to be cooler with all of that snow.

 

I woke up around 5:00 and got up to have breakfast. I watched the sun rise and broke camp. Instead of leaving, I headed over to the Ramparts. I got to see not only whistling marmots, but whistling marmot babies, a first for me. Other than that, the only wildlife I saw was a few chipmunks and some deer footprints in the snow. There were lots of wildflowers in the bare patches. Again, lots of snow on the trail to the Ramparts but nothing challenging. The Ramparts are a beautiful series of glacier-carved lakes, all connected with little waterfalls and bluffs. I wandered around the lake basin, trying to get good pictures but trying not to walk through the billion or so occupied campsites. It is kinda limiting when you're trying to avoid waking people up or distrubing their breakfast. Eventually I gave up and headed out. On the way out, I passed another billion people on their way up. Because I started out so early, I probably missed a lot of them. I got back to the car at about 11 :15 am and headed home.

Fourth of July

In my inimitable style, I shunned the general populace on the Fourth. I have never been a big fan of the noise or drunken crowds of the holiday. I got up early and headed to work because I had a lot to do, and then left fairly early to head to Snow Lake.

 

It was cool and cloudy in Seattle when I left, but it was crystal clear and hot at Snoqualmie Pass. I headed up the trail at what is for me a blistering pace. I've done that hike so many times that I didn't bother to take any pictures until I actually reached the first viewpoint for Snow Lake. The entire basin is snowbound and the lake is still partially frozen. Like a moron, I made my way down the crusty yet half-melted snow to the shore to take a few more pictures, risking postholing through the rotten snow and breaking an ankle or two. At one point I decided to just sit down and slide for about 100 feet, which was great fun. It was hot in spite of the snow, and my shoulders got sunburned because I refuse to deal with sunscreen most of the time.

 

After wandering in the snow near the lake but chickening out when it came to crossing the big creek, I headed back up the slope, which was easier than getting down the slope but still a little tricky. After reaching the saddle, it was before noon and I decided to head to Source Lake, which you can see from an offshoot of the Snow Lake trail. I'd never gone that way before because I had seen a photo of the lake and was unimpressed. I don't know why I decided to do it on this particular day, other than that it was early, I had time, and I wasn't tired. Half a mile later, the unimpressive puddle that is the headwaters of the North Fork Snoqualmie came into view, as did the snow field at the end of the cirque, the back of Chair Peak, and multiple very impressive waterfalls that currently feed the lake and the river. It was worth the trip up just to see the peaks from that angle.

 

Pictures are here. http://community.webshots.com/album/551961445osrejn

 

After heading back home, I did some homework, some housework, and I ate almost half a gallon of some kind of ice cream that involved caramel swirls and chocolate-covered toffee chunks. I was hoping to get to bed early, but we all know that was a fantasy. All of my loud, obnoxious, disrespectful neighbors decided to set off illegal fireworks until 11:30 that night, so I woke up tired and feeling like crap at 4:00 a.m. Just to be a bitch and wake up my neighbors to get even with them for not letting me sleep, I set off my car alarm a few times. Vengeance is mine!

 

I think we all need to petition to move the Independence Day celebration to the first Friday in July. That way we all get a 3-day weekend and none of us has to get up early the next day.

A little jaunt into the wilderness

Yesterday I hiked the 11-mile round trip to Navajo Pass, at about 6000 feet. If you like up-close and personal looks at the likes of Mt. Stewart (at left), you should to this hike. If you like a raging river, open landscape, gnarly trees, wildflowers, hot hot heat, and a distinct lack of biting bugs, you should do this hike. Campsites? Check. Breeze? Check. Deer? Check. Plenty of water? Check. Stunning vistas? Check. Crowds? Unfortunately, check. There were 7 tents at the pass, and I counted 9 people on the way in and two on the way out. I suppose that isn't technically crowded... Anyway, nice hike, only 3000 feet of elevation gain over 5 1/2 miles. The trail is in good shape in spite of horse use. It is very pretty and very different than Western Washington hikes - it is litteraly barren in spots, particulary just below the pass on the South slope. It looks like the moon. I'll write a more detailed "trip report" later if I feel like it, but I have homework to get to.

The influence of co-workers

Random office bizarreness.

 

One of my co-workers brought lychees to work. I'd never seen them before, but I had tried lychee juice and I really liked it. They look like chestnuts, feel like tangerines once you get the peel off, and taste a little like coconut juice. Very light and refreshing.

 

Another co-worker has developed a sudden fascination with death and pictures of corpses and accident victimes because yet another co-worker told her that he used to be a mortician. Now we're trying to out-gross each other finding pictures of dead people on the Internet. It isn't hard, believe me. She even found a website that shows all of the recent prisoner beheadings in the Middle East. Yikers. We have in common that the dead people don't bother us, but neither of us can even look at anything suggestive of animal cruelty without wanting to bawl like a baby.

 

Yet another co-worker saw me this morning and gasped, and said, "I'm so glad you're OK! I had a dream last night that you died!" Well, if nothing else, it is nice to know that someone will be upset if I die. I tend to labor under the impression that nobody gives me a second thought once I'm out of their line of sight. Apparently the dream event took place around my birthday, so I'll be sure to be extra careful on my three-day birthday hike this year. If I recall correctly, there are myriad opportunities to plummet to my doom on that particular trail. Last time I did it, I broke all of my damn fingernails off. It is a very, shall we say, "interactive" trail.

One thing leads to another

Have you ever felt that the universe was conspiring to keep you from getting to work on time? I got up late because my alarm clock didn't go off. I still made it out of the house only 4 minutes late. In a brilliant last minute decision, I took a left instead of a right, avoiding the construction holdup, only to get stuck on the wrong side of the train tracks when a freight train passed. I finally made it across the tracks, only to be stopped by traffic that was mysteriously not moving through the green light. I cut across a curb and a parking lot because at that point it was 6:16, and I catch a 6:17 train. I whipped into the parking garage only to be blocked by someone attempting to back their stupid SUV into a spot that was too narrow for a driver with no parking skills. I finally got by her and parked and made it to the platform barely in time. Luckily the train was 2 minutes late or I would never have made it.

Fortune cookies

I eat a fortune cookie every day. No reason why, other than that I like them. I don't believe in the fortunes, but I get a chuckle out of how positive and upbeat they are. The last three I've gotten:

You will be sucessful in romance.

You will inherit some money or a small piece of land.

You are domestically inclined and will be happily married.

The irony here is that only the middle one stands to come true.

On the other hand, there's a website that offers more realistic alternatives to fortunes. http://www.new-year.co.uk/chinese/cookie.cfm

Mt. Forgotten

Left: Big Four, view from Mountain Loop Highway

On Friday, I did the first real mountain climbing I've done this year. I hate to be a mountain snob, but anything under 4,000 feet is not a real mountain. I'm sure there are others who feel than anything under 6,000 or 8,000 or 10,000 aren't real mountains, so at least I'm not as restrictive as others.



Left: Perry Creek crossing at 2 miles

After checking every website I know to find trip reports, I decided on Mt. Forgotten. Last time I was up there was right around 1998, and (pardon the bad joke) I had forgotten just how spectacular it is. It isn't the most difficult hike at 3.5 miles each way and about 2000 feet of elevation gain to the meadows, but the trail isn't in the best condition in spots. That much I did remember. I left home early and got to the trailhead at about 6:30. I'm very slow. I take a lot of pictures. I took 147 on this trip. That could be, in large part, why it took me 4 hours to reach the meadows. However, I will concede that I take a lot of breaks and I am not in good condition. Once the asthma and the allergies kick in, I can't breathe and I get pretty fatigued, so I would go slow even if I didn't have the camera.

Left: Pika

I didn't see much in the way of wildlife. I saw some pikas, some chipmunks, some birds, some bugs, some slugs. That's about it. I did hear a woodpecker at one point in the forest, and I heard a grouse or a ptarmigan while I was up in the meadows overlooking the peak, but hearing things counts for nothing.



Anyway, the waterfalls off of Mt. Stillaguamish are visible and audible from across the valley. They're pretty impressive. Perry Creek is a little tricky to cross because the big log that used to make such a great bridge has collapsed partially into the creek, so you get your feet a little damp on the way to the other side. There's quite a difference in the trail before and after the Perry Creek crossing. Before you cross the creek, you're traversing the shoulder of Mt. Dickerman in an open valley. The trail is a little rocky in spots, but not very steep. It is very warm in that valley. You have a view across the valley and up the shoulder of Mt. Dickerman, not to mention back down the valley toward Big Four, the whole time. The moment you cross the creek, you're in the woods. No views, cooler, quieter. The trail gets steeper and rocks are traded for roots. The camp robbers show up if you take food out.

There is still some snow on the trail, but I managed to stick pretty close to it by following the footprints of others, the blazes on the trees, the red trail maintenance flags, and the logs that had been cut apart where they had fallen and obstructed the trail. Just below the first viewpoint, you hit the solid snow. It is packed down pretty hard and is a few feet deep, so I wasn't postholing through it at all. I got to the viewpoint and snapped a few shots of Mt. Forgotten, Mt. Stillaguamish, White Chuck, Mt. Baker and Mt. Shuksan. I chatted for a moment with a guy who had camped there the night before and headed up to the meadows.

After the viewpoint, the trail is a little harder to follow. The snow is patchy in the trees, but the footprints are harder to follow and there are no other real signs of the trail. Still, if you just keep those cliffs in view to the left, you get to the meadows.

The meadows are currently solid snow. It is very pretty, and there has been so little traffic up there this year that the footprints are nearly invisible. I had the meadows entirely to myself. I glissaded down one slope just for kicks before heading up to the real views. From the meadows proper, you can see Three Fingers, Whitehorse, White Chuck, Glacier Peak, Mt. Forgotten, Sheep Mountain, Mt. Dickerman, Big Four, Mt. Baker, Mt. Shuksan, and many others too numerous to name. It is spectacular. I plopped down in the snow with Mt. Forgotten to my left and Glacier Peak in front of me to eat lunch. I stuck my apple and cheese into the snow to let them cool off while I ate my beef jerky chunks and took off my outer layer to cool down. My lily-white shoulders turned very, very pink. Stretched my legs, relaxed, took in the view. Then I ate my ice-cold apple and cheese.

Here's where I got stupid. I wanted to go out to the rock outcrop with the best view of Mt. Baker. I didn't make it, but I tried. The path, even in the best of circumstances, is steep and treacherous, and right now it is partially obscured with snow. I slid down the slope to the one very small patch of dirt that I could see of the trail, then went about 10 feet to the big patch of snow that is obscuring the rest of the trail. My intention was to climb over that snow, but from that angle I could see that it was very thin. I chickened out and turned back. Kickstepping back up that slope was not easy - it was about 12 feet up and very steep, probably a 60 degree angle. I finally made it back up and decided it was time to head back home.

The trip down was uneventful until I reached the second creek crossing. Trail maintenance folk from the WTA had showed up and they were working on the trail. At that moment, they were building a rock "bridge" to cross that creek. I walked over, complimented them on their handiwork, chatted for a moment, and headed out.

My second mistake of the day was to try to take I-405 home. I drove in first gear - when I was actually moving, that is - for an hour before finally making it to the I-90 exit. Next time I'm hiking in the North Cascades, I'll take highway 2 or 20 over the passes and drive South on the other side of the state, then take the Mt. Rainier loop to get home. It might add some miles, but it will probably take less time and the veiw will be more enjoyable.

Anyway, the day was fantastic. I highly recommend this hike. Blogger won't let me upload more pictures, so you can find all of them on Webshots.

Plans so cunning you could put tails on them and call them weasels.

This week, the universe appears to be conspiring against my cunning plan to regain my health and youthful glow. Every day, someone brings something irresistible into the office. Monday was Rum Cake. Tuesday was doughnuts. Wednesday, well, that was my fault entirely, becuase I stupidly went to Uwajimaya for a "snack." Today, doughnuts again. Lousy bastards. I know, I could just not eat them, but since I'm unwilling to spend my own money on these things this is the only way I can get them. All I want for Christmas is more self-control. This isn't really affecting my health, but it still gripes me that I have such a fixation on junk food. Mmm, sugar...

 

On the stalker front, I have devised a cunning plan to avoid interaction. I think I figured out why this guy bothers me so much. Let me digress for a moment. He may not know I exist. Maybe he's just one of those people with no recognizable social skills who glares at people without knowing he's doing it. They aren't rare around here, what with all of the drug addicts and homeless people. On the paranoid hand, he watches me as though I look exactly like someone who did him a terrible wrong at some point in his life (mommy? wife? prom queen? random woman on the street? babysitter?) and he's wondering how it is that he killed me, skinned me, ate me, and buried my in-edible remains in his crawlspace, and yet, curse the gods, I'm on his train. I'm simply going to get on a different car from now on. If he starts showing up on that car, I'll change cars again. If he shows up in that car, I'll take a later train to work and let him have his stupid train. If he shows up on a different train, I'm going to drive to freakin' Issaquah and take a bus. That'll teach him.

 

Definitely stalker material

I took the train as usual this morning. I took the first aisle seat I could find. Unfortunately, I have tunnel vision when I am looking for a seat on the train and I didn't notice that I was sitting one seating area away from the guy who was making me rather nervous a few days ago. He kept huffing and puffing and sighing through the whole trip. I could hear him breathing the entire way from Kent to Seattle. (That's a bit of a pet peeve of mine. If you are breathing too loudly, you should probably see a doctor.) By the time I realized it was that guy, it was too late to move. I waited for him to get off the train before me, and as he walked by me he actually held up the line of people behind him staring at me as he walked by. I was looking out the window, but I could see from his reflection that he was looking at me, not at the stairs. I accidentally looked down the stairway just as he was rounding the end of the stairs and there he was, looking back up at me. Today I made sure that I waited long enough to avoid him completely once I was off the train. I think I may start taking a different train, or getting on a different car. He reminds me of Jeffrey Dahmer, so you can imagine how uncomfortable his attention is making me.

What time is now?

Good lord, I can't believe it is only Tueday, June 19th. I'm desperately awaiting a good time to go camping, but the snow is still pretty rampant in all of the places I'm dying to be. I am hoping that over this weekend I'll do a hike that will put me in a campsite about 10 feet from a frozen lake. The trail is still pretty bad, but I figure that will keep the hoards away. Unfortunately, that will probably also keep the whistling marmots underground. The weather between now and then is going to be good, so I'm counting on some major snowmelt between now and Saturday morning.  I was going to do this particular hike over the Fourth of July, but I've decided that no matter where I go that weekend, I won't need three days, so it won't matter where I go. I just want this particular hike to have good weather, and the forecast is looking reasonable for this weekend, so I'm going to do it early. On the other hand, there's another trail I'm waiting to hear more about. Som eone did it this weekend, and I emailed him to ask for more info and pictures to see if it is worth the trip up.

 

We once again have an "us against them" faction at work. This time, it is me and my officemate against the office whiner, who we will refer to going forward as "creepy eyebrow lady," or CEL. (CEL waxes her eyebrows OFF and draws them in about halfway between her natural eyebrow line and her eyelid, giving her a permanent glowering, beady-eyed look.) She's the one who whined about being in the office that I now happily occupy. She complained about the light. About the warmth. About my officemate, who apparently makes faces that CEL doesn't like when she is communicating. (Have you ever noticed how expressive deaf people are when they are signing? CEL was offended by that.) She also complained about my officemate making too much noise, which is terribly ironic in that CEL is the most chatty person I think I've ever worked with. She complained that I stand with my arms crossed. (I do that because letting my arms hang at my sides hurts my elbows.) She complained about my voice, fo r crying out loud - again, terribly ironic coming from someone in her 40s who talks babytalk to her coworkers because she thinks she's being cute and is just generally nasal when she speaks normally. She has repeatedly gone to the boss to whine, and ultimately it ended up with the entire department going to a conference last Friday called "How to Work with People." Do you think she learned anything about her own behavior? No, because she doesn't think that she is a problem. Now she's playing dumb because she doesn't want to do something that she doesn't know how to do and doesn't want to ask someone that she perceives as being "below" her (me, the known "expert" on that position, and a staff accountant - she's deluded) how to do, so I have to tell her without her asking me, which is going to piss her off and she's going to go to the boss and whine that I'm telling her how to do her job. Fun, no? Uh huh.  You see, this is the kind of crap that makes me wish I could be a total r ecluse.

The children are our future...

And that scares me.

Yesterday was one of those days that I really wish I had my camera with me so that I could prove this. I got stuck behind a car in Renton traffic yesterday (it took me an hour to drive the 20 miles from SeaTac to Maple Valley) that had four young'uns in it. Newly graduated young'us, I'm guessing. On the back window someone had painted That's how bright they are.

Class of 2"06"

That's how bright they are.

When did that happen?

I seem to have inadvertently turned vegetarian. I didn't mean to! I have a freezer full of chicken, beef, pork and buffalo, but I can't remember the last time I ate meat. In my quest for good health, I've been very focused on vegetables, tofu, fruit and cheese, more or less in that order. It seems to be working. I'm just wondering when the craving for a bacon cheese burger is going to hit me.

 

I didn't bring my lunch to work today, so when our network crashed I took it as an opportunity to wander over to Uwajimaya to see what I could forage. I found some great things. The plan for good health is on hold until I eat all of this mess. I got a bag of "Wasabi crunch twist" wheat crackers. The first one is sweet, with a little edge to it. The next one, not so sweet, more edge. The third, quite an edge, but still sweet. The more you eat, the hotter the tongue. I love 'em to death. Highly recommended. I also found my standard Kamar's falafel sandwich. I was going to buy Pocky, but decided to get some German dark-chocolate covered crackers called Afrika. I also found some English McVitie's Ginger Nut cookies that were apparently packaged for sale in an Arabic-speaking country, judging from the script. I also found a bag of what looks like sweet potato french fries. At the cash register I picked up some gum - I still don't know what the flavors are, but one is called No Time and has a picture of a toothbrush on it, and the other has little evergreen trees on it. My final impulse buy was Mocha Roca, which I didn't know they made. I'm familiar with Almond Roca, so I can just imagine what this will be like. Mmm... coffee chocolate toffee...

 

I need a break from the rabbit food, apparently.