Federation Forest State Park: Walking among the Elders

I'm still here! Sorry, it has been a while since my last post, although I'm still posting photos regularly on other social media platforms (see links at bottom of this post). Enjoy!

While I've spent the majority of my life in western Washington, I can still be surprised by places I've passed often but never visited. Recently I had the surprising pleasure of walking through some remnant old growth forest at Federation Forest State Park near Greenwater, Washington. 

I've seriously driven past this park hundreds of times on my way to skiing at Crystal Mountain or hiking at Mt. Rainier or Chinook Pass and beyond. But on this day, I drove alone to pick up my skis at Crystal Mountain (long story). So I decided to stop wherever on the way home and stretch my legs.

After my usual stop at charming Wapiti Woolies store in Greenwater for some hot tea (and a hat that was on sale), I drove a few miles west on Highway 410 to the park. Only one other car was in the lot when I pulled up; then I started walking through younger forest carpeted in extensive green moss.

Along the way, I spotted springtime treasures, like native trillium that's already past its spring peak in the lowlands.

 

Did I mention that it was a drippy, gently raining day in the mountains? (It was snowing up at Crystal Mountain a few thousand feet higher.) Our Pacific Northwest forests and their inhabitants love a quenching rain, especially the moss.

 As I neared the White River, I started seeing bigger, mossy-trunk trees scattered amongst the youngsters.

I found a side trail heading down to the river's edge and snapped a few shots of the fresh spring green trees across the river. 

While strolling with an eye to the forest floor as much as to the towering trees above, I spotted several tiny fairy slipper native Calypso orchids. I felt that same thrill as when spotting morel or chanterelle mushrooms.

Do you ever tell yourself you should think about turning around, but you're drawn onward? That's how I felt while walking through this forest. I lingered longer than I planned, enchanted by the lush green life all around and sensing secrets held by this ancient forest. And I felt bittersweet, knowing our whole region used to be blanketed by such forest, and today it's fragmented and so little remains.

After about an hour, I turned around and headed back to my car, with a couple other stops to make. I'd like to come back and spend more time on these gentle trails. Have you been? 

Do you have a favorite old growth forest in the region or beyond? I'd love to hear in a comment below!

Happy trails and thanks for visiting Pacific Northwest Seasons! In between blog posts, visit Pacific NW Seasons on FaceBook, Twitter, and Instagram for more Northwest photos and outdoors news.

 

 

Thanksgiving 2023: Still Here and Grateful

 

Happy Thanksgiving season! I have intended on blogging more this year, but somehow the days, weeks, and months are flying by without any updates. So I'm here to say: Still here, lurking, and grateful, as always.

In the photo below, I'm swimming in the Salish Sea, which I've been doing a lot this past year. If you follow other Pacific Northwest Seasons social media accounts (see links below), you'll see numerous shots from regular swims in the sea with the Selkies, my homegrown swimming pod.

Honestly, "wild" swimming has moved ahead of hiking, kayaking, and even skiing as my primary outdoors activity this past year. Lots of gratitude for the Salish Sea, swimming in the sea, new friends (and old) who share this passion with me, and for the friendly seals we see quite often while we swim.

Of course I'm grateful for getting outdoors and the joy of movement, especially for some spectacular days hiking along the Highline Trail in Glacier National Park last summer. I am intending on blogging about it and likely will. It was such a thrill and joy to be invited by some good friends to be a part of a fun, scenic, rewarding, and memorable adventure!

Grinnell Glacier overlook, Glacier National Park, Montana

Bighorn sheep, awfully close to the trail. Glacier National Park.

I'm also grateful for my little fur nugget, Mittens (aka Yuki - it's a long story), who has been inside sharing my home for almost 2 years now after living outside as a feral for almost 10 years. While she's still quite skittish, she is the most affectionate cat I've been fortunate to call my pet (number four). 

I can tell I'm rusty on blogging, as this is a bit of a slapdash post. But while there is a lot be be concerned and alarmed about in our world today, there is much to be grateful for as well. I have always cultivated simple pleasures in my life, like the perfect pot of tea each morning, talks (and now more texts) and walks with friends and family, mini road trips and getaways like the marvelous day last Friday with two dear friends to get fresh seafood on Hood Canal, and so much more.

Hamma Hamma Oysters, Hood Canal, WA

While I would like to be a bit more profound, I'll keep it simple this year. I'm just happy to be here, for good health, for good friends and dear family, and the beauty of my home region. 

If you found your way here and are still reading, I'd love to hear some things you're grateful for this year in a comment below.

Happy trails and thanks for visiting Pacific Northwest Seasons! In between blog posts, visit Pacific NW Seasons on FaceBook, Twitter, and Instagram for more Northwest photos and outdoors news.

Winter 2023 in the Pacific Northwest: It's a Wrap

 

Did you have a good winter this year? 

Winter is finally loosening its grip here in the Pacific Northwest. The mountains are still getting snow, and plenty of it, so spring skiing will continue well into April.

As I write this, it's raining and cold out (in the high 30sF), after a few teaser days of sunshine and temps in the low 60s. I'll be skiing this weekend in fresh snow. But I know it's not for long now, and spring is really happening.

For this skier and nature nerd, the last few months have offered some great days on the slopes and trails. The new year began with, of course, a swim in the Salish Sea on a cold, breezy day. What an exhilarating way to start the new year!

Ballard Wild Swimmers on New Year's Day

My swimming pod kept it up all season with some glorious cold sunny days and stormy, rainy days. We made it through the winter swimming/dipping every week, and one week went every other day!

Sunset swim, Shilshole Bay, February 10, 2023

My ski season started in January (my Ikon ski pass has blackout dates over the holidays), with plenty of snow coming down at Crystal Mountain, just north of Mt. Rainier, SE of Seattle. It was snowing all day, which is a true test for goggles (mine earned about a grade D). But always a thrill nonetheless.

Taking a break on a warm-up run in off Forest Queen, Crystal Mountain

My next trip up in February was a perfect bluebird morning, with the mountain out in all its hunky fabulousness. We had to stop and get the requisite top of Green Valley with Rainier in the background shot. I have many shots of myself and friends here over the years.

But the peak skiing this past winter was my first trip north of the border to Whistler-Blackcomb in over 20 years. The village had grown beyond recognition from my last visit, but then the Olympics there in 2010 gave it a boost. We cross-country skied the first afternoon and last morning, bracketing a glorious day skiing mostly at the top of Blackcomb on Seventh Heaven and Glacier Express area.

Top of Seventh Heaven, with Coast Range beyond.

I enjoyed my first real après ski in years at the Wizard Grill in Whistler Village. You're never too old to dance and group sing along. While we made our own breakfasts at our timeshare in the village, we also had a great dinner out at Caramba, a popular Italian restaurant.

Girls' weekend

Between trips to Crystal and Whistler, there were some winter walks in the woods in some Seattle parks. There's beauty in the sparse winter forest too. A steady rain accompanied me during a January walk in South Seattle's Seward Park below. 

As winter drew to a calendar close last weekend (and temps broke 60 degrees F!), I celebrated with a hike with some of my favorite women in one of my book clubs (Alpine Trails) at one of my favorite places (Deception Pass State Park). I took off my jacket and enjoyed the relative warmth in such a beautiful place.

Deception Pass Bridge

And the day before, I also celebrated the end of winter/coming spring with a swim with the S Pod (or most of it) on a brilliant late winter day.  While the water is still pretty darn cold and won't really start warming up for another several weeks, we lingered on the beach in the sun afterwards. It was marvelous.

As Seanna said, towel sarongs are a thing here.

So that's a taste of a Pacific Northwest winter in western Washington/British Columbia. The weather has been a bit colder than whatever normal used to be. It has been a great ski season, but we're looking forward to warmer and drier days ahead.

How was your winter?

Happy trails and thanks for visiting Pacific Northwest Seasons! In between blog posts, visit Pacific NW Seasons on FaceBook, Twitter, and Instagram for more Northwest photos and outdoors news.

2022 in the Pacific Northwest: Taking Stock and Moving on

 

We're starting off 2023 by taking a quick look back at the year just past. For this local, there were lots of walks, some hikes in the Cascades, a bit of kayaking and skiing, foraging for mushrooms, lots of ferry rides, and many swims in the Salish Sea near my home.

2022 was one of the very few years in my life that I didn't get down into Oregon. Except for that quick trip to New York City, I didn't travel farther north than Bellingham, farther east than Leavenworth, farther west than Quilcene on the Olympic Peninsula, and farther south than Vancouver, Washington. For this wanderer, that's quite remarkable!

January

For someone whose teenage passion was downhill ski racing, I unusually missed two years of skiing (due to injury and covid). But in January I had a marvelous start to my ski season at Crystal Mountain, where I was a ski instructor back in my relative youth.

Crystal still feels like my home mountain now, and I usually spot someone I know on the slopes or having lunch in midmountain Campbell Lodge.

Here I am posing for that classic top of Rainier Express shot with Mount Rainier/Tahoma in her full bluebird day glory in the background. I can't tell you how many shots I have of myself or friends taken with that view, which never fails to be awesome.

February

One of the first signs of spring each year are the snowdrops blooming in Carkeek Park. These non-natives, which have spread in the woods from a former orchard, were probably originally planted over a century ago. You have to know where to look for them, since they're off the trail system a bit.

I start watching for them around the first or second week in February, and take shots of them every year despite having many shots of them already.

March

I call Seattle Sunset City, and often they're especially spectacular in the winter or shoulder seasons. On the early March evening I took this shot from Golden Gardens where I often swim, a friend was visiting from Maine. I was happy to be able to share such a glorious evening on my home beach where I spend so much time.

April

In April, I joined the Alpine Trails Book Club for a luscious hike along the Lower Big Quilcene River Trail through lush old growth forest on the eastern edge of the Olympic Mountains. I'd had the good fortune to spend the night before at a cabin on Hood Canal, and my gracious host joined me kayaking along the shoreline. All in all a perfect Northwest spring weekend.

May

In 2022, we had a cool, damp spring, which led to gorgeous wildflowers. While early paintbrush and wildflowers are easy to spot at Deception Pass State Park on Goose Rock, this shot was taken on a rainy Memorial Day weekend hike just south of Anacortes to Whistle Lake. 

June

Due to our damp spring, wild morel mushroom foraging was still good well into June and early July of 2022. While I can't name specific locations, I was lucky to be invited to go twice with an expert forager friend. We tramped through forest that had burned the year before, a bit east of the Cascade Crest. While the trail that passed through the burn was closed, I found a few stretches of intact trail that offered solitude and spectacular views. And the foraging was excellent too. Hmmm, nothing quite like fresh wild mushrooms sauteed and spooned atop pasta, eggs, risotto, wild salmon, or steamed veggies.

July

We jumped straight from cool and damp to hot and dry after Fourth of July, causing us to seek shady, forested trails. And to be honest, I tend to hike the less popular woodsy hikes now instead of the super popular hikes with spectacular views. It keeps the crowds down.

Some friends and I did the always pleasant Granite Lakes Trail in July off the Middle Fork Snoqualmie River road. While this trail passes through mostly second-growth forest that was likely logged within the last 75 years or less, it's still a nice green hike.

And then there was that incredibly magical late July night swimming in a cove in Chuckanut Bay in the sparkly bioluminescence. You can read about that in a blog post from last year.

August

While I'd done a few shorter kayak outings earlier in the year, I managed to find some friends to join me for just about my favorite kayaking day trip - upper Skagit Bay, with stops at Hope and Skagit islands. It's never crowded, parking is free at the put-in (thank you Swinomish Tribe!), it's beautiful, and the swimming in the bay afterwards was marvelous.

September

During prime hiking weather, a friend and I escaped to the high country for a cool hike on a hot late September day to the very popular Naches Peak Loop Trail at Chinook Pass on the edge of Mt. Rainier National Park. We made the loop longer by hiking down to Dewey Lakes (and lost some of the crowds on the trail).

Tahoma was out in all her late summer glory.

October

Into mid October, with freakishly warm temperatures lingering well past the old normal, the open water "wild" swimming was fantastic. The Salish Sea/Puget Sound stayed relatively "warm" (mid 50s Fahrenheit versus mid 40s right now)  later than usual in the year. At its warmest, I was staying in 25 to 30+ minutes.

A big treat was meeting up with a swimmer from Scotland, who was passing through Seattle, and taking her to the beach for a swim. Cheryl was a hoot and clearly thrilled to join us in the water.

Also, the mountain lake shot at the top of this post was taken on another unusually warm October hike to Snow Lake, a classic trail that had just reopened after a seasonal closure for trail upgrades.

November

With winter coming, we swam a lot still in the Sound as temps started to drop. I took the shot above right before I waded in and swam in this lovely, quiet cove at Manitou Beach on Bainbridge Island the morning before a happy, tasty Thanksgiving dinner with family at my sister's home. The brisk, cold water was an exhilarating way to start the day as the fog was lifting. 

December

With a good hit of snow before the Christmas holiday in the lowlands as well as the Cascades, some friends and I dashed up for some cross-country skiing east of Snoqualmie Pass at Cabin Creek. This friendly favorite Sno-Park is tracked and groomed all winter for Nordic skiing, which truly is one of the best total body and calorie-burning workouts.

While we're not hard core speed skate skiers, it was fun and a great 90-minute workout. Next up: back to Crystal Mountain and a trip to Whistler/Blackcomb in B.C.

 

As always, there are just too many photos and too many adventures to pack into one annual year-in-review blog post, BUT...you can find more Pacific Northwest photos on FaceBook, Twitter (hanging in there for now), and Instagram (links below).

Wishing you a great 2023!

 

Happy trails and thanks for visiting Pacific Northwest Seasons! In between blog posts, visit Pacific NW Seasons on FaceBook, Twitter, and Instagram for more Northwest photos and outdoors news.

Thanksgiving 2022: Seeking Wonder

As I ponder gratitude around Thanksgiving each year, a theme often surfaces. This year, I've been thinking a lot about wonder. Each time I experience or witness something that makes me smile or gasp in awe and wonder, I'm grateful.

These moments take us out of our everyday world and anxieties slip away. I can't put it better than this quote (I found online here):

Wonder helps to put our place in the world into perspective. It not only allows us to see beauty in a crabapple; it reminds us that we are finite and that we are a part of something much greater than our ability to comprehend it. 

Every time I see a sunrise or sunset that stops me in my tracks, witness a solar or lunar eclipse, or spot some wild orcas in the Salish Sea, I feel this awe.

There are a zillion things that can elicit a sense of wonder or awe. 

 

For this blog post, I was initially thinking about natural phenomena, not all of which I could photograph. Actually, thank goodness I wasn't disrupting some of these moments by taking pictures!

As I mentioned in my last post about open water swimming, there was that incredible night this past summer swimming through tiny sparkles of bioluminescent light in the dark Salish Sea. And the sunset that preceded the experience:

Chuckanut Bay sunset.

Hiking through a grove of golden subalpine larches, which I call unicorn trees, is another wondrous experience. People flock by the hundreds (maybe thousands?) to the most popular larch hikes in the region in a frenzy of "Larch Madness" each autumn. These conifers that glow golden for a few short weeks each October seem to cast a spell and draw you onward, wanting more.

I treasure memories of many nights sleeping under the stars during meteorite showers. Spotting a shooting star is truly one of the most awe-filled things to witness.

An especially vivid meteorite encounter was a peak experience, literally and figuratively. As my friend Matt and I neared the summit of Mt. Adams predawn one August morning many years ago, a brilliant shooting star streaked low across the horizon, not much higher than where we stood high on the 12,000-foot-tall mountain.

Mt. St. Helens from the Lunch Counter on Mt. Adams

In 2017, I was fortunate to witness a total solar eclipse from a friend's farm in Oregon's Willamette Valley. I was gobsmacked by that 90 seconds. The image of that black sun with spiky tendrils of light shooting out all around is a moment I will never ever forget.

Photo by Allen Denver.

In 2020, while the world was upended by the first wave of COVID-19, Comet NEOWISE was visible for weeks in the Northern Hemisphere. Several times I drove, binoculars in hand, to the darkest viewing spot I could find near my home in Seattle to see it, seemingly immobile in the night sky.

Sorry I don't know the artist name to give credit, but isn't this a splendid painting of NEOWISE?

Hummingbirds also enchant me, and I always love to hear and spot them. They're an amazing marvel of physics and speed. To the Coast Salish people, they were a sign of good luck.

And the Aurora Borealis! I finally saw them shimmering in curtains of green across the night sky about a year ago. I called a stargazer friend to narrate how awesome and wondrous it was as I watched them dance across northern horizon. I think I kept on saying "THIS IS SO AWESOME!"

 As I was thinking about writing this post, I was trying to catalogue my top wonder experiences (most mentioned above). But then I realized I could write all day about the wonder and awe we can feel every day if we pay attention.

Mt. Rainier/Tahoma sunset from Bainbridge Ferry

So this Thanksgiving/holiday season, I'm feeling gratitude for the capacity to witness and feel wonder. 

May you, too, allow yourself to notice and experience a sense of wonder, today and every day. And I'd love to hear in a comment below some of your wonder moments.

Happy trails and thanks for visiting Pacific Northwest Seasons! In between blog posts, visit Pacific NW Seasons on FaceBook, Twitter, and Instagram for more Northwest photos and outdoors news.