2021: A Pacific Northwest Year in Review

So long 2021. I can't quite settle on how I feel about you. After 2020, we all had great hopes for you.

For me and most of my friends, who can no longer be called young by any stretch of any imagination, life in the time of SARS-COVID 19 is still more tamped down than the "before times." We had a brief few months of semi-euphoria in the late spring and summer after vaccination. 

And then came delta, followed by pesky little sister omicron.

But I'm not here to write about the pandemic. I'm here to share a year in photos and a few videos of my special corner of the world, which I haven't left since late 2019. Please join me!

January: Into the Woods
To be honest, most of my year was into the woods. But for January's sake, we'll start with several trips cross-country skiing the lovely forested trails at Cabin Creek, a few miles east of Snoqualmie Pass (which is southeast of Seattle in the Cascade Mountains). This gem of a trail system, tucked against the side of Amabilis Mountain (which I've skied up and down too), provides an excellent workout in as little as an hour or as long as you want to keep skating and gliding or tramping.

 

February: Across the Sea

My winter routine involved lots of walks around northwest Seattle where I live, punctuated with trips every few weeks to Port Townsend to visit my aunt and friends for Monday morning coffee. This involved leaving my house and boarding a ferry across Puget Sound before sunrise (the 7:10 a.m.), which provided opportunities to shoot the changing hues in sky reflected on the horizon. 

 

Westbound on the Edmonds to Kingston ferry.

I always stop at a quiet overlook on Port Gamble Bay and walk about 20 minutes on the bluff trail to greet the day, camera in hand.

 

 

Port Gamble Bay

  

March: Into the Sea

In March I met a group of swimmers at Golden Gardens near my north Seattle home who were actually, like, swimming in Puget Sound and not just plunging in and out like I'd been doing. My neighbors were the nexus of the group and invited me to join them. So I resolved to take a few extra strokes each week to build up my endurance and time in the water.

This began early in March on my birthday, which happened to be an unseasonably brilliant day:

...and the day was topped with one of the most gorgeous sunsets over the Salish Sea I witnessed all year.

April: Across the Mountains

Come early spring, I started embarking on my first overnight getaways from Seattle in almost a year. A friend graciously let me stay at his gorgeous cabin just outside Leavenworth, where I enjoyed brilliant views of the Enchantments and met up and did some walks/hikes with friends who live over there.

Sleeping Lady near Leavenworth, Washington.

May: Onto the Island

A top 2021 highlight was my first trip back to Orcas Island since 2016. How could it have been that long?

I hiked, swam, and paddled with friends also visiting the island (including an Orcas ex-pat "native" visiting her mother in Eastsound). Another friend who lives there showed me some of her secret special places. It was an absolutely perfect spring weekend (can you hear me exhaling slowly?) with blue sunny skies.

Kayaks and standup paddleboards do mix! Eastsound, Washington.

And because I can't adequately put into words how incredibly wonderful this hike up and down Turtleback Mountain was, here's a short video clip:

There was also a marvelous weekend east of Chinook Pass at a friend's cabin, with hiking, good food, and some morel foraging. Life is indeed good here in the Pacific Northwest.

June: Up and Down the Region
Family moved front and center in June and cousins were up visiting from California, so there were trips to the Portland area and Port Townsend. I booked (and my sneaky aunt called and paid my bill) an overnight at the historic and charming Palace Hotel in Port Townsend. I also joined my cousin's wife for a swim in the sea there too.

Can you say charming street front? Palace Hotel in Port Townsend, Washington.

I guess I must mention the unprecedented heat dome we experienced late in the month. The only respite was walks in a nearby forest, where the temperature dropped at least 10 degrees as soon as you entered. This says something about the value and necessity of saving our urban trees and woodlands.

July: Honoring and Revisiting
A super busy work period kept me inside a lot, but I did get down to Portland for time with family and old friends, in light of a loss. I watched a beautiful sunset on a warm summer evening with friends on Rocky Butte and was up and out before sunrise for a lovely hike in the Columbia Gorge with some other friends. The Portland area will always be as equally home to me as Seattle.

August: On the Trail
In preparation for a backpacking trip in early September, I hit the trail more in August (and work died down). Highlights were a hike up to the Tolmie Peak fire lookout in Mt. Rainier National Park with the Alpine Trails book club (on a day smoky from regional wildfires), a morning hike to Wallace Falls just outside Index, and the grind up and down McClellan Butte in the I-90 corridor east of Seattle. With poor visibility and prudence, we did not do the rock scramble to the true summit.

 

Any day on the trail is a good day.

 

And a long weekend with dear high school friends on a Puget Sound beach was the restorative balm we all needed. 💚

 

 
September: Across and into the Mountains

While my knees are still willing, I was thrilled to join some friends for an absolutely awesome backpack trip in Glacier National Park. On the eastern crest of the Rockies and at higher elevations, we passed through some starkly beautiful landscapes.

 

 
October: Back into the Woods, Water, and Mountains
Yes, this Northwesterner's life involves lots of time in the woods and mountains. There was also a sweet afternoon kayak trip on the Sammamish River and Swamp Creek in a splendid Pacific Northwest rain (video below), a wonderful hike to Lake Valhalla, and an overnight at Sleeping Lady near Leavenworth, where the fall colors were cranking up.

Lake Valhalla and Mt. Lichtenberg beyond.

November: Stalking Mushrooms
Actually I got out with a friend in September to forage for chanterelles, but in November the hunt is with cameras in hand to shoot them. They're easy to miss if you're not looking in the right places, but this downed log on a side trail near my home was wild with mushrooms. I'm still learning, so I can't name this variety, can you?

December: Snow Comes for the Holidays
This year with vaccines, boosters, and testing, it has been wonderful to gather with family and friends in person for the holidays. After another quick trip to Port Townsend, the snow arrived in full force the day after Christmas (thank you weather gods for sending the snow a day late and sparing us from snow driving that's so problematic around Seattle with our many hills).

 

It's a rare treat to be able to ski outside your front door here. Below is a short clip of a ski down into the ravine near my home:

 

 

And with that it's a wrap on the year. It was a mixed bag overall, but as I've been composing this post, I realize there were many wonderful experiences and memories made over the past year.  So 2021, not bad. Not perfect, but moments of perfection.

 

Here's to 2022, may you bring us many laughs, smiles, and good times ahead!

 

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.

 

Hiking through the Holidays in Mosslandia: Twin Falls

 

Although the days are getting longer (and colder) now that the Winter Solstice has passed, it's still what we call the "dark days" here in Washington.

Our chilly wet weather is about to turn into a possible record-breaking cold snap, with likely snow. Local moss, in its multitude of varieties and very happy from our wet autumn, will go dormant from the freeze. So, too, will some Mossbacks who live here.

But many of us will be outside reveling in winter. 

Last week on a bone-chilling rainy/snowy day, I dashed east of Seattle into the foothills near North Bend for a short but sweet hike to Twin Falls (which is actually three waterfalls). On this rainy Wednesday in the middle of the day, I only saw two other hikers on this normally super popular trail.

The Twin Falls trail skirts close to the South Fork Snoqualmie River

Besides it being a week day, another reason I had the trail mostly to myself was, of course, the steady, hovering-just-above-freezing rain. 

As I tramped onward, just happy to be out in such lush Northwest beauty, the rain turned to big fat wet snowflakes. 

I kept on thinking I'd turn around because it was so wet despite my rain pants and Gore-Tex shell, but I couldn't stop until I got to the main bridge over the waterfalls. It was too lovely out there.

By this time, snow was covering the bridge, although thankfully it wasn't slippery.

On this trip, I bypassed the lower waterfall viewpoint deck. But I did stop to admire lots of moss and the huge old growth Douglas fir along the trail.

After about 90 minutes of hiking in nonstop rain/snow/rain, at places the trail seemed like a side channel to the river.

Because there was such a healthy flow in the river and I had the trail to myself, I did a few detours down to the river's edge to shoot a few clips from my smartphone. 

By the time I got back to the car, my jeans were damp beneath my rain pants and so too was my jacket layered under a shell. But I just slipped off those outer layers and turned up the heat in my car as I drove home, thoroughly exhilarated from "forest bathing" in solitude. This is a rare treat anymore near Seattle.

Happy holidays!

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 2021: Random Gratitude

 

It's  a chilly, damp late fall evening as I'm writing this 2021 Thanksgiving post. I'm tired and worn down from the last couple months of work overload. 

To be honest, I'm worn down from the last almost 2 years of the pandemic. I'm not as resilient as I was as a young woman, and my family suffered a couple sad losses in the last year.

But, well, I'm still here, like the Salish Sea tides that rise and fall and rise again near my home. And as we get on in years, just being here is the ultimate gift, to witness life and all its messy loveliness. 

Take mushrooms. I'm increasingly intrigued and captivated by their weird and wonderful variety, their shapes and sizes, and that they spring up like a surprise each year. Did you know that their DNA is closer to human than plant? 

 I stalk them with my camera, and of course I live in good fungi territory. So here's to gratitude for mushrooms/fungi. There's so much more to learn about them.

I guess that leads me to another gratitude: curiosity. Without curiosity, human societies around the globe would be much less developed and advanced (although with the state of resource overuse and climate change, one can question the wisdom of some of our advances). But there is just so much to learn and read about in the world (and universe). Curiosity has led me to many excellent books as well, for which I'm grateful.

 

It was hard to think of a photo to match curiosity, so I grabbed the shot above of Yuki, the last cat standing of the colony of spayed/neutered feral cats I've helped manage and feed (along with my neighbors) since 2007. He has been successfully dodging coyotes, cars, racoons, crows, and perhaps an owl or two since at least 2013.

One of the bunch, Tashi, became my beloved pet who died at the end of 2020. Yuki is too feral to become totally domesticated, but he is a nice cat who talks to me and likes to be petted and scratched around the ears. I'm grateful for his feline companionship over the years, and sad he just lost his last buddy Jude. They kept each other warm at night.

I'm also grateful for ferry rides back and forth across Puget Sound/Salish Sea for visits to family in Port Townsend and Bainbridge Island, Washington. I will never, ever tire of the clarifying embrace of the stiff, cold breeze while standing on the front ferry deck as the vessel skims across the sea surface.

On my semi-regular trips to Port Townsend for Monday morning coffee/tea with the gang up there, I always stop at a park on Port Gamble Bay and walk along the bluff or down to the water's edge to take pictures.

I'm always the only one there on Monday mornings, and it's an incredibly peaceful escape from the city. As always, I'm grateful for the balm of nature.

I could continue rambling here on what is basically a stream of consciousness post. But just reflecting on these things bring even more things to mind for which I'm grateful. One can't forget friends and family to share adventures and the everyday.

 And I'm happy that it's always possible to make new friends and reconnect with old friends. They're all gold.

So what tops your list of gratitudes this year? I've barely scratched the surface. But it's a good exercise to get one thinking and appreciating all there is to be thankful for again.

Wishing you and your loved ones a happy Thanksgiving/holiday season. May you cherish just being here and remember, let's strive to look beyond what divides us to what binds us, with compassion and humanity. 

 And let's all strive to approach others with kindness.

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.

 

 

 

 

Leavenworth Getaway: Sleeping Well at Sleeping Lady

 

Sleeping Lady Mountain

Fall color in October around Leavenworth, Washington, is nothing short of magical. Compared to what we see over on "the Coast" (western Washington), the mountains and canyons glow crimson and gold. 

With a short window during the work week to avoid the Oktoberfest crowds, last week my sister and I dashed over Stevens Pass for a getaway. While I've spent lots of time in the Leavenworth area staying with friends, this trip we decided to stay at Sleeping Lady Resort south of town on Icicle Creek.

This resort/conference center site was originally built as a Civilian Conservation Corps camp that operated from 1934 to 1942. After also serving as a dude ranch and Catholic camp, in the 1990s Northwest arts and environmental philanthropist Harriet Bullit developed it as Sleeping Lady Resort.

 

Many of the cabins at the resort were repurposed from the old camp but upgraded. The compound features walkways that were constructed using recycled wood materials. With arts venues, a pub, office/conference facilities, a mercantile, cafe, and restaurant interspersed around the site, along with art and sculpture from Northwest artists, it feels like a charmed mountain village.

Waterfalls beside the outdoor patio at the Grotto Bar.

We arrived after dark and and then walked along the lit pathway through open pine forest to our comfortable and cozy cabin (no driving up to your cabin, it's pedestrian-friendly and car-free). On such a dark and quiet mountain night, I had one of the best night's of sleep I've had in months.

I was up and out shortly after sunrise, camera in hand, to snap some of the shots here. No one else was up and about yet on this Friday morning.

The sculpture above is one of many artworks scattered around the compound. (Apologies to the artist for not checking the name or title, but I think it might be Richard Beyer.)

Since we were going to a friend's home for a visit, we were up and out pretty early. Due to the pandemic and related staffing shortages, indoor breakfast wasn't being served at Sleeping Lady's O'Grady's Pantry, but we grabbed hot tea and fresh, delicious scones for breakfast.

O'Grady's Pantry courtyard

 

While I don't have any more shots of the onsite art, we were fortunate to visit one of the artists whose gorgeous wildlife sculptures are featured there. Longtime family friend and artist Gretchen Daiber lives nearby and has several of her sculptures scattered around her garden.

Ptarmigan sculpture by Gretchen Daiber

 

On such a glorious autumn morning, we walked with Gretchen through forest near her home above Sleeping Lady. She enthusiastically talked about the Icicle Fund's Artist-In-Residence program celebrating the conservation, history, and arts of North Central Washington. The goal of the residencies is to honor, celebrate, and record the unique environmental aspects of the Wenatchee River/Valley watershed. She is one of the 10 selected Watershed Artists this year. 

Aspen Grove

 

Later in the day we drove up Icicle Creek Canyon and walked the Icicle Gorge Trail, an easy warm-up hike that has very little elevation gain and winds over and along Icicle Creek for a little over 4 miles.

Icicle Creek

 Since crowds of people were arriving for the first weekend of Oktoberfest, we didn't want to deal with trying to drive and park in the center of town for dinner. Instead, we grabbed a thoroughly typical Bavarian grilled bratwurst topped with sauerkraut at longtime local burger shack Heidelburger, which sits right off the highway at the edge of town.

Then we snuck up into Tumwater Canyon to snap some of the fall brilliance.

 All in all, our sister road trip was a great success. I highly recommend a loop over one of our passes here in Washington to see the eastern side of the Cascades soon, while the colors are still aglow. And if you get to Leavenworth, I also highly recommend Sleeping Lady.

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.

 When You Go

Icicle Creek

 Sleeping Lady is not a budget lodging destination, but their cabins can accommodate from two up to eight people, plus they allow pets (my sister's beagle Zelda joined us). Prices vary by season and time of week, but our room was $224 per night and could accommodate four.

Our cabin had a mini-fridge and a hot pot with tea and coffee provided for us to brew hot drinks ourselves.

 Part of the proceeds from the resort goes toward the Icicle Fund, a non-profit co-founded by Harriet Bullit that supports the arts, environment, and cultural and natural history of the North-Central Washington region.

 

Hiking Glacier National Park: Dawson Pass/Pitamakan Pass Loop (Part 3)

 

This is the third and final post about an epic backpack trip in Glacier National Park on the Dawson Pass and Pitakaman Pass loop in early September 2021. You can read the first post here and the second post here.

When I awaken on this third morning of our Glacier National Park backpacking trip, I notice the air is warmer than yesterday, even though we're at a higher elevation at Oldman Lake. Summer isn't over yet here in the Montana Rockies, even though the park ranger told us there used to be sleet and snow already by this time of year.

On this day, it's mostly all downhill, except a short uphill near the end of the trail. And, thankfully, it's a much more gradual descent than yesterday's descent to Oldman Lake from Pitamakan Pass.

In the early morning light, the first thing I do is grab my camera and head down to the lake. There's a gorgeous pink glow that's not visible in the harsh glare of midday.

Oldman Lake

 

Oldman Lake campsite trail, morning light

We gather at the campsite cooking area for a hot drink and breakfast and pull down our bags of food from the high bars provided at each campsite. In grizzly country, the protocol is strict: Before even going to your campsite to drop your pack and pitch your tent, pull all your food and lotions/toothpaste out of your pack and hang them in a bag at the top of a 12-foot + bar. 

After a light breakfast of hot tea and a KIND bar, I go back down to the lake while shooting another short video. (My shadow makes an appearance in the video linked below.)

After saying our goodbyes to the other hikers, we pack up and head on down the trail. This day is sunny, warm, and mellow compared to the strong wind and drama of being up on Dawson and Pitamakan passes. This day is just fine by me.

 Occasionally we stop and take a look back from where we came.

 

Back below timberline, we're seeing brilliant fall color in the huckleberry and other shrubs.

 

Passing through what appeared to be a grove of dwarf aspen

Seriously, the trail grade is so mild for most of the 6+ miles we hike this day, it hardly feels like we're losing elevation. After crossing a mostly dried up stream (Dry Fork Creek) over a small log bridge, we take another look back.

By this time, we're like horses headed to the barn. We do have a long drive back to the Spokane area (about 5 to 6 hours) tonight after finishing, so we're moving along at a pretty steady pace through alpine meadows, then forests, before finishing the loop.

Just as we can see the parking lot, suddenly we come to an abrupt halt. About 10 yards ahead is a cluster of bighorn sheep (I call them goats, but Mark corrects me) on the trail. They seem to be wary of the people down on the river below watching them. We're wary of them. They're also wary of us.

Bighorn sheep. Photo by Mark Beaufait

 
After a few minutes minutes, the sheep finally all descend to the river below, and we scoot past to finish our hike.

The first thing Andy and I do is tear off our hiking boots and walk over to Pray Lake, where we both soothe our battered feet in the cold water. (My taped up feet and ankles make an appearance in the video below at the lake).

 

And then it's over, this hike planned for months. Mark got the reservations in January through a lottery, although some hikers told us they showed up the day of and got permits. 

Happy Hikers. The End.

Regardless, it was challenging, spectacular, and very rewarding. We covered 15 or 16 miles overall and gained and lost about 3,000 feet in elevation, peaking out at about 8,100 feet at our highest point; many do this loop as a day hike now. Gotta say, it would be much faster going without a full backpack, even with ultra light tents and such.

I'm happy to have seen a new corner of the park (and world). I'm slower than I was as a young woman, but I'm not much bothered anymore when faster, younger hikers pass on the trail. It's all worth it, no matter your pace.

Many thanks to Mark for planning this trip, and Mark and Andy for being so generous and including me. Old friends are gold, but old friends who like to get out and do fun outdoors adventures together are platinum.

I'd love to hear in a comment below if you'd done this hike too, or other similar adventures.

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.