Outdoor Life Archives « Page 5 of 7 «

Park Butte Lookout

September 21, 2015September 24, 2019
by Ashley Gossens

This crazy Northwest summer has me reminiscing of the Septembers with blue skies and blueberries. I guess I have spent too many weekends at foggy lookouts lately and deprived of my usual blueberry intake! But my trip up to Park Butte a couple years ago was anything but foggy. It was a bluebird day, the temperature perfect and there were blueberries for days. Ahh, how sublime.

The long drive to the trailhead gets you high into the alpine from the get-go. It’s not long before you come upon Shreiber’s Meadow, in most years full of blueberries. I once saw a woman here picking blueberries with a swedish berry picker and a 5-gallon bucket. She gave me the stink eye like, don’t even think about picking berries here, so I kept walking and a made a mental note of the berry picker. Later my husband would gift one to me for Christmas and it has changed our berry-loving lives. We now bring home gallon ziploc bags full of berries from the trails instead of a couple half-filled Nalgene bottles.

Once past the meadows, pick your way across an alluvial plain, an ever-changing waterway with shifting sediment that keeps the bridge builders on their toes. Look upriver for a metal ladder bridge. Here you will get the first glimpses of the white mass of Mt Baker if you are lucky. Continue up through forested switchbacks. Just when you start to think that you’ve had enough switchbacks, the way opens up to beautiful meadows and up-close views of Mt Baker.

Hang a left to the lookout or go right to explore the railroad grade trail up to Easton Glacier, a popular climbing route. The railroad grade trail traverses the top of an arête, a knife-edge formed from two parallel glaciers pushing earth up between them forming a thin ridge. Gazing at the massive glacial-carved valley below will have you marveling at the wonders of this volcano and the power of it’s glaciers.

Head back toward the lookout while froliking through the gradually climbing meadows of heather and blueberries. After rock hopping a few creeks and wet spots, the way rises through a rocky outcrop. Head down to the tarns for picturesque views of Mt Baker reflected in the crystal clear water. Continue up while gazing down upon Pocket Lake, nuzzled below in a small cirque.

Finally, after a push up the rocky way, the lookout is in site and views abound. It feels like you could reach out and touch the glaciers on Mt Baker. To the south, feast your eyes on the Twin Sisters range and the Nooksack Valley. The lookout is open to the public and can be slept in at a first-come, first-served basis. This is a great place to linger, bask in the sun and take in the beauty of one of my favorite places, the Mt Baker area.

Outdoor Life

Winchester Mountain Lookout

September 14, 2015August 7, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

Every year for Labor Day weekend my husband and I go backpacking with another couple. It’s become a tradition for us and we look forward to it all year. I usually choose an epic hike in the North Cascades with spectacular scenery where we can roam and snack on blueberries for a couple days. But this year was different. We had a new addition to our crew- a little one-year-old. Hmph, well now, I had no idea how to plan for a baby. I don’t have any children and I don’t know the first thing about a one-year-old’s wilderness skills. I had so many questions. How far should we go? How much food do we need? Would the baby be miserable in the tent all night? Where do you put all those dirty diapers?

I was stressing to determine the answers to these questions. I immediately decided that I was not going to have anything to do with the dirty diapers, so in turn was not going to worry about their whereabouts. Our friends are amazing parents and I really didn’t have to worry about these kind of details. I just didn’t want them to be uncomfortable or to push them too hard. So I gave them some choices and was happy they chose an easy hike to Twin Lakes where we could base camp and explore as much as we wanted. Then I freaked out again because I checked the weather and it was going to be cold and rainy in the high alpine. Will baby freeze to death? Ugh.

We met our hiking partners at the charming Wake ‘n Bakery on the Mt Baker Highway and loaded up on delicious pastries and coffee. We then made our way to the busy Yellow Aster Butte trailhead and walked up the 4×4 road to Twin Lakes. The cold morning air gave way to sun and blue skies prompting us to take multiple breaks to shed layers. The road walk wasn’t so bad and we chose a particularly entertaining switchback to stop for a snack and watch the trucks struggle up the bumpy road. I’m sure they did not appreciate the audience.

We made it to the beautiful Twin Lakes but they were unfortunately surrounded by trucks and car campers. We walked to the far side of the upper lake to look for a more secluded site. A narrow boot path led around the lake and we followed it past a mine shaft (where we taught baby about echos) to a big camp spot. There was a faint path leading up to a tiny narrow saddle and we went up to explore expecting that it would just lead to a nice bathroom spot. Instead, what we saw took our breath away. The path came to an end abruptly and the ground plunged into a steep valley. Directly in front of us were the silvery jagged peaks of the Pleiades sprinkled with just a touch of fresh snow.

We quickly figured out that the farther down the road we went the more spectacular the views. We set up camp at Skagway Pass, an old mining route to the Lone Jack Mine which gave up $200,000 worth of gold to it’s original owners and is still active to this day, hence the high alpine road. The area is full of old open mine shafts in the ground and old cabins. The guys dropped rocks down the holes to see how far down they went. Not too far. We all laid in the heather and took a nice long nap. Later we made biscuits and pasta and squished water and chocolate pudding in ziploc bags for dessert.

That night as we went to sleep, it was so quiet you could hear a needle drop. It made me uncomfortable. I tossed and turned searching for just the tiniest hint of a breeze or rustle in the trees. I’ve been living in the city too long. Even in my quiet neighborhood I can always hear the soft hum of the I-5 highway, cars driving by, airplanes overhead. The baby cooed in the nearby tent and I hoped he was warm enough. I worried that the weather would turn bad the next day and snow on us. I knew I had to stop worrying, just let it go or I wouldn’t get any sleep. The baby fussed softly and his mom gave a long calm shhhhh. Rain (or was it snow?) began to lightly drum on the rain fly. I drifted to sleep.

The next day was foggy but there was no snow and the rain stopped. We packed up the baby and all our warm clothes and headed to Winchester Mountain. The trail climbs immediately between the lakes and we found ourselves shedding layers again. I was hoping maybe the clouds would burn off while we climbed, but I doubted it. I was disappointed. I was so looking forward to the stellar views. All we could see were the deep blue lakes below in a haze. The lookout was completely shrouded in fog when we arrived. We were only three miles from Canada as the crow flies. We could throw a stone and hit it but we sure could not see it.

We met a friendly forest service worker and she told us the lookout was open, but asked us to remove our boots before going in. We complied. It was very zen. We had lunch in the lookout as we checked out every nook and cranny and I poured over the guest log entries and book collection. Mostly Edward Abbey and nature writing. I thought about what it would be like to spend the night there and decided that it would be incredibly cold. The layers started coming back on.

Later our friends and the baby would head down the road for a more comfortable night’s sleep and we bid them farewell at the lakes. It had been a successful first backpacking trip for baby and we were so happy to share it with them. We sat by the lake and watched the bats feast on the bugs surfacing the lake. They undoubtedly made their homes in the myriad of mine shafts nearby. We walked back to camp and climbed into our sleeping bags. It was quiet again without our friends but the rain returned and I drifted to sleep.

Backpacking Biscuits Recipe:

At home, mix the following ingredients in a ziploc bag:

1 cup biscuit mix (I use Fisher brand, but any will work)
2 Tbsp powdered milk
1 tsp dried parsley
1/4 cup dried corn
3 Tbsp grated parmesan (the shelf-stable kind that comes in a shaker, not fresh)

On the trail, put the mixture in a non-stick or greased pot approximately 6 inches diameter (the smaller the pot, the thicker the biscuits!). Start by adding 1/4 cup of water and add more if needed. Spread the mixture out and put on low heat covered for about 3 minutes or until the bottom is golden brown. Flip the biscuit “pancake” and cook covered for another few minutes until golden brown and cooked all the way through. Cut into quarters and enjoy them warmed.

Hikes featured in this post:
Winchester Mountain

Outdoor Life

Return to Green Mountain

August 27, 2015October 11, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

The first time we went to Green Mountain was in 2006. We had just moved to Seattle two months before and it was our second hike in the Cascades. My sister and her then boyfriend joined us for the drive up the long washboard Suiattle River Road to the trailhead. It was a hot sunny September day and we got a late start. We sweltered in the heat on the exposed switchbacks slowly making our way up. My sister’s boyfriend wore brand new leather boots that required many re-applications of moleskin and we stopped a hundred times for breaks like classic rookie hikers. We finally stopped for lunch on a rocky outcropping. We were nearing the lookout that crowned the top of the mountain but we couldn’t see it from our lunch spot. I didn’t know how much further it was, but I knew we weren’t going to make it there that day. That was ok, we were just beginning a lifetime of exploration in our new home, we would have plenty of time to return. And anyway the views were fantastic from our vantage point, could they really be that much better at the lookout?

We made our way back down the trail and re-traveled the long road in our old forest green Jetta, the muffler occasionally grazing the bumpy road. We watched the sun set behind Whitehorse Mountain and had dinner in Lake Stevens. By the time we got home it was dark. After that epic day we decided to stick to easier hikes before tackling a big mountain again. But I couldn’t wait to return to Green Mountain, the place where I fell in love with the Cascades and that mysterious Glacier Peak volcano. But just months after our hike, a strong winter storm washed out the Suiattle River Road and did not reopen until October of last year, a whopping eight years later. Over those years I longed to return and complete the hike to the lookout. So when I heard the road reopened I knew I had to return this summer.

While the Suiattle River Road slumbered and the wild encroached on it’s edges of gravel, bureaucratic controversy around the fate of the road and the lookout roared to life. First, repairs to the road were delayed for years by extensive environmental studies brought on by environmental organizations. Then, Wilderness Watch, a Montana-based environmental organization, sued the Forest Service in 2010 for violations to the Wilderness Act for using helicopters and other machinery to rebuild the 1930’s era lookout. This case went on for years until, shortly after the nearby Oso landslide in the spring of 2014, Congress passed a bill saving the lookout. Then finally, in late October 2014, the road was re-opened.

In late July of this year my husband and I returned to the Suiattle River Road. It still had it’s jarring washboard just like we remembered. It was cloudy but we were determined to get there so we headed up the trail anyway. We were the first car at the trailhead and as we climbed through the trees I jogged my memory for any recognition of the trail. There was little and it was different than I remembered and a little creepy. We heard something rustle in the brush nearby and Nali was on alert. Then just as we were about to clear the treeline we heard a loud clap of thunder. We were now in thick fog and it was beginning to rain. The trail ahead was brushy and ready to soak us to the bone. We reconsidered. We didn’t want to be on the tallest mountain around inside of a thunderhead. It didn’t seem like the triumphant return we wanted anyway with little to no views so we headed back down and decided to try again later.

I was really disappointed that we didn’t have good weather that day, but a month later (just a few weeks ago) we decided to give it another go for my birthday. Well, once again thunderstorms were in the forecast. We decided to car camp the first night during the storms and then backpack up to Green Mountain on the following day when the weather was supposed to improve. So we headed out with rain gear in tow to the newly re-opened Buck Creek Campground. The campground was about half open and the rest blocked off. We walked through the abandoned portion during a break in the rain to get water at the creek. It was eerie, like something out of a post-apocalyptic movie. Picnic tables were turned upside down and fire rings removed leaving a circular scar in the dirt. Fallen trees criss-crossed the gravel squares meant for tents.

The next morning the rain stopped and we headed out early to hit the trailhead. Again we were the first ones there, and again it was cloudy and foggy. But we had faith that the forecast would be correct and that it would burn off any minute. So we climbed through the trees and this time continued into the open meadows above treeline. This time the trail was thankfully brushed out, but we still got wet. That was ok, we would dry everything in the sunshine later. As we climbed the switchbacks I tried to recall what is like the first time we were there and I remembered the slopes just full of green ferns now beginning to brown after a harshly warm summer.

Before long we made it to a tarn, the rain beginning to come down harder and steadier now. We stopped at a bench to rest and scout out a camping spot. Wow, that’s funny, I said, I have absolutely no recollection of this tarn at all. My husband remembered that we sat around the lake for a long time snacking on blueberries. It’s funny how our memory plays tricks on us.

We set up camp near the lake and I thought how lovely it will be in the oncoming nice weather. We then headed back up the trail, our loads lightened for the increased grade. As we climbed I had the sinking feeling that we were going to be socked in at the lookout. But we climbed anyway and I looked forward to lunch and checking out the lookout itself. Sure enough on the last bit to the top, we watched the basin below us fill with white. But we made it to the top! Finally after all those years. But it didn’t feel as victorious as I hoped for. But then I thought we could return in the morning when the weather will surely improve.

As we headed back down to the tent I started to get the feeling that the weather was not going to improve. My husband felt it too and suggested we move the tent to a more protected spot in the woods. I reluctantly agreed. It was better under the trees and we could sit outside and cook dinner and make hot chocolate. It would do. We stayed in the tent and read out loud to each other and eventually dozed off to sleep. The fog encased us while the rain dripped, dripped on the tent. It was cold and the dog was shaking so I zipped her up into my sleeping bag with me. Summer, sadly, was coming to an end.

We didn’t end up trying again for nice views at the lookout, as the top of the mountain was still shrouded in fog in the morning. We instead packed our bags, skipped breakfast, and looked forward to a nice hot meal in town. As we descended on the trail I thought about how much has changed in the nine years since we first climbed those green slopes, how much I’ve changed in almost a whole decade. I realized that the mountains have made me a better person in those years. One that cares about the environment and saving our special places (including historical lookouts), one who is healthier and who has overcome fear and anxieties to accomplish goals and climb even bigger mountains. Green Mountain may not have spoiled me with it’s lovely views for my birthday, but it has given me so much more than that. Thank you, Green Mountain, I will return again and one of these times I will finally bask in your lookout’s glorious views!

Hikes Featured in this Post:
Green Mountain

Outdoor Life

Hiking with Strangers

August 21, 2015August 7, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

One of my goals for 2015 was to hike with a stranger and I did it! Ok, I cheated a little bit. I didn’t go hiking with a complete stranger, but rather some of my fellow Northwest bloggers. I put out a call to see who wanted to meet up for a hike and much to my surprise I got some responses. I was thrilled, not only because technically these three lovely ladies were strangers, but because they are my kind of people: smart, outdoor-loving and inspiring.

I chose Snow Lake as our destination because it is easy to get to, not terribly difficult and just plain beautiful. I also chose it because it’s one of the first trails that I hiked alone. I hiked it back in July of 2009 when Nali was just a puppy. In fact, it was the first hike I took Nali on by myself. She had so much energy that we ran up most of the switchbacks and then kept going and going until we got all the way to Gem Lake, the next lake up the trail. I ate my lunch there and sat far away from other people because she was so whiny about stopping. She just wanted to keep going. She’s six now and hasn’t changed much really.

My original intention was to find a hiking buddy through an online forum where people post wanted-type ads for hiking partners like NWHikers.net. But as I started finding other blogs and started my instagram and twitter accounts, I found that there is such a generous and supportive community of writers, bloggers and outdoor-loving people online, I just never realized they were there. So I thought why not meet up with these great people that I already kind of know?

I met Jill, Laura and Lainey at the resort-sized parking lot of the Snow Lake trailhead. We were early enough to get good parking and there was a coolness to the air that was much appreciated by all in this relentlessly hot summer. As true Seattleites we relished in the distant clingy fog, yellowing foliage and the thick smell of autumn in the air. We discussed knitting projects, favorite baked goods, books and trails, all my favorite topics.

By the time we reached the top of the ridge you would have thought we’ve been hiking together for years. Jill showed us a gorgeous lookout spot on top of a giant rock where we lined up in a row to take photos. Later we would all stop to admire the drops of dew on the leaves lit by the morning sun. We reached the lake and after getting chilly in the shade, we basked in the warm sunshine. I brought banana bread to share and we chatted for a long time. But the temperature was rising, the trail was getting busier and we had to climb back up the ridge, so we made our way back to the trail. The conversation never skipped a beat.

I thought that after this meet up it would be clear which I like better, hiking alone or with others. But the truth is that both fulfill different needs for me. I crave alone time so I can think clearly. But I also thrive on meeting new people, learning from them and being inspired. I can go further and faster on my own but then I miss out on the tiny beautiful moments like stopping to find a squeaking pika or as Lainey so elegantly described it on her blog, “pass[ing] through fields of nearly-spent fireweed that were busy sending their seeds aloft on silky threads; the downy clusters ascending straight into that blue sky as though they were stars racing to claim their place in the heavens.”

I am so thrilled with the new friendships I gained at Snow Lake and I hope to make more. I will continue to organize meet up hikes for whoever is interested and maybe we can expand our lovely group. Maybe even start an outdoor book club? A girl can dream. Let me know if you are interested in a meet up and I will start a list. And don’t be afraid to go out there and make new friends on the trails!

My new friends:
Jill – PNW Seasons
Lainey – A Day Without Rain
Laura – Tiny Pines

Banana Bread Recipe (from my sister):
1 1/4 cups sugar
1/2 cup butter
2 eggs
1 cup mashed banana
1/2 tsp vanilla
1 1/2 cup flour
3/4 tsp baking soda
3/4 tsp baking powder
1 1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 cup milk

Cream sugar and butter
Add eggs one at a time.
Add banana and vanilla, mix well.
Sift dry ingredients together and stir into batter alternating with milk.
Pour batter into greased loaf pan and bake for 55 min at 350F.

MWF Seeking BFF by Rachel Bertsche

After getting married and moving to Chicago, Rachel had a great life but felt like she was missing something. She had lots of good friends but they were spread out all over the country. She wanted to find new friends in the city but wasn’t sure how. So set out on a year long mission to go on a “friend date” once a week in hopes of finding a new best friend. The story of her quest is a hilarious, charming and satisfying read as she meets an array of characters. But what is important is her message that making new friends, much like dating, means you sometimes have to put yourself out there in ways that can be uncomfortable. This book showed me that there are many people out there looking for friendship and encouraged me to find them.

Hikes featured in this Post:
Snow Lake

Outdoor Life

A Birthday on Glacier Peak

August 12, 2015August 7, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

Two years ago I turned 30 on top of my favorite mountain. I effortlessly walked to the top of Glacier Peak and held up my ice axe in defiance and celebration. I was in the best shape of my life and 30 felt so good. My husband pulled cupcakes from his pack, the vanilla ones with confetti inside AND the confetti icing and they were surprisingly intact. My brother-in-law revealed a bottle of champagne and he shook it and we all screamed as it exploded and we drank straight from the bottle in celebration. As we posed for pictures my normally frizzy hair was miraculously smooth and I looked amazing and refreshed. It was everything I wanted it to be. It was perfect.

If that sounds ridiculous to you, that’s because it’s not true. But that is what I wanted it to be like, a total dreamfest. In reality, the only thing that happened is the part where we made it to the top of the mountain. My husband wasn’t toting cupcakes nor was there champagne, of course. I was certainly not in the best shape of my life. 30 hurt. A lot. My hair was a mess and we didn’t even summit on my actual birthday. And to be honest I was pretty terrified on that mountain and I couldn’t wait to get off of it. Like usual there were mishaps, misapprehension and a good dose of reality checks. It certainly wasn’t perfect, but in it’s own special way, it was better than perfect.

In 2013 I decided I wanted to hike up 30 mountains before I turned 30 years old. I’ve told you this before and I told you how my husband thought it would be a great idea to climb up Glacier Peak on my 30th birthday, my favorite mountain in the Cascades. I was a little reluctant but I agreed and we poured over the maps to find a good route. We would have to go a long way just to get to the mountain so we thought why not make a big loop of it while we are out in the remote Glacier Peak Wilderness? Why not? So we planned out a 6 day, 50 mile route complete with Glacier Peak summit and invited my brother-in-law. I thought maybe the plan was a little ambitious, but it was winter and August felt forever away. Surely we had plenty of time to prepare.

Well, August came around and I didn’t feel all that prepared. I had been hiking a ton that summer but we only went for one backpacking trip in the spring. I was worried about the pack weight and mileage. Not only that but I had never climbed a big glaciated mountain before. I knew how to use an ice axe and how to tie knots. The rest we learned from The Freedom of the Hills and a guided glacier trek on Mt Baker. We practiced roping up in the backyard. We made prusiks and learned crevasse rescue. We showed my brother-in-law these things when he got here. Even after all that, I was still nervous. But soon enough, we were packing our bags and my nervousness turned to excitement.

On the first day we had 11 miles and a 4000 ft climb up to White Pass ahead of us. We strapped on our packs (mine was 40 pounds, a good 10 pounds more than I’ve ever carried) and climbed through the trees to open meadows. We passed a group on their way down carrying climbing gear and asked them if they made it to the summit. They had, but they said it was tough. And long, so long. Their eyes looked tired and I tried not to think of them as I climbed the switchbacks.

It was unbearably hot even in the early hours of the day and I was slow. I had to take many breaks and sit in the little available shade to give my shoulders a rest. I felt like I was going to pass out. This was not like me, I was tougher than this. I hated making the guys wait for me. The sun beat down on us, the horse flies were feasting on my legs and we were running out of water.

The trail finally leveled out a bit into a boggy meadow with even more bugs. I felt like we had to be getting close to the pass. Then I looked up. The ridgeline towered above and I realized that we still had a long way to go and at least another 1000 feet. I took off my pack and sat down killing as many flies as possible and holding back tears. What was I doing? If I can’t even make it to the pass, how was I ever going to climb the mountain?

We kept going. We found a stream to replenish our water and eventually made it to the pass. We set up the tent and made some food and shared a liter of gatorade which made me feel better. From the pass we could see just the very tip of Glacier Peak peeking out over the ridge above us. We stared at it for a long time. It seemed so impossibly far away. There was a group with horses camping near us and we watched them trot by in the alpenglow. We snacked on gummy bears as the sun disappeared behind high mountains.

As tired as I was I didn’t get much rest that night. We all woke up to a hellish thunderstorm. The ground we were sleeping on rumbled as lightning lit up our tent. Then the rain came. Big loud drops evolved into sheets battering the tent. We could hear the cries of the nearby horses in the storm and my heart broke for them. We looked outside to make sure water wasn’t pooling beneath the tent. Thankfully we were in a safe spot.

The next morning the horses were gone. The campers must have packed out early with the terrified animals. We packed up and prepared for our first day off trail. We studied the GPS and the map. There were lots of ways to get up over the ridge but only a few good ways down the other side. We did our best to find a good route but still had to scree slide down the other side. We ran into two guys and they gave us some tips on camping spots. We crossed a snowfield and found a nice spot near a glacial lake. It was lunch time and I was thankful for the low mileage day even if it was over some tough terrain.

All day we watched the clouds build up and we waited for the storms to return. They did. This time it hailed on us before it downpoured and we didn’t pick a good spot. We had to get out and move the tent to higher ground. We cooked in the vestibule and ate and played Yahtzee as the bands of storms came by one after the other. I relaxed a little bit because I thought there was no way we would climb the mountain the next day.

The next morning after getting battered by more storms, my husband woke me up at some ungodly hour. Hey, the storms are gone and the clouds are clearing, let’s give it a try. I grumbled and rolled over. Can’t we take a zero day and just relax? I replied. I wasn’t ready to go up the mountain. But deep down I knew I never would be. He poked and prodded before I finally rose and went through the motions, the ones I had been preparing for all summer. Put on hat, jacket, headlamp, check and re-check gear. Start up GPS.

We walked silently in the early morning glow over the rocks. So many rocks. Big rocks, little rocks, giant rocks, all types of volcanic rocks. We walked for miles over rocks, we climbed up rocks and down rocks until we finally hit snow. The going was much easier on the snow. We climbed and climbed until finally the full view of the mountain and the route was in front of us. It was truly a beautiful sight. We looked around for other climbers but there was no one around. We switched back and forth between snow and ashen dirt and scree. Crampons on, crampons off. Rope on, rope off. We crossed an icefall on pure blue ice that did not seem real. We looked down into crevasses that seemed infinite. It was so quiet up there. The only noise was the snow crunching under our boots.

After countless hours we were climbing up the last bit on rotten rock and snow. We were careful not to loosen rocks down onto each other. And then we were at the top. At 10,541 feet we were the tallest things around and it felt like we were on top of the world. We took some photos and tried to eat some food but I wasn’t hungry. My adrenaline was pumping and I felt happy, strong, scared and tired all at the same time. I didn’t think it was possible to feel so much at once. But I knew one thing and that was that the clouds were building up and the storms would come again. I wanted to get down and fast.

We reversed our route and glissaded down on our butts when possible. I was amazed at how fast we descended something that took all day to climb up. But when we hit the rock fields again we slowed down to a glacial pace. It was rough going and we were so tired but we could see the clouds settling in so we tried to hustle. Soon enough though we were in a whiteout. We had no choice but to ignore our intuitions and trust the GPS. Thankfully, after a little searching, it led us back to our tent.

We celebrated with a big dinner and Yahtzee but as thunderstorms battered the tent for the third night I was unsettled. It was as if the universe was reminding us that although we may have climbed a big mountain, we are still just little itty bitty breakable humans. Two days later we celebrated my 30th birthday at Blue Lake on Pilot Ridge. The lake was freezing but the guys jumped in to wash off the dirt and sweat. I rinsed my arms, feet and face but didn’t go in the frigid water. There was a mysterious small red bag at the bottom of my pack that I was instructed not to open until my birthday. I got it out and my husband told me to go away for a bit. I smiled. Fine. I came back and found that they made me a cheesecake topped with freshly picked blueberries. It was such a great surprise and oh so delicious. There was a duo of men camping nearby and we invited them to share our dessert. They were surprised to see such a delicacy and happily dug in as we swapped our hiking stories.

When I got the idea for Alpine Lily I was so excited, but I recognized a feeling I felt on Glacier Peak and it made me uncomfortable. It was vulnerability. I enjoyed telling my friends and family about my adventures and climbing Glacier Peak, but I always left out the parts where I was scared and weak. I left out the bugs, the pack weight, the struggles, the storms and the fear. I told everyone about my goal to climb the peak like it was no big deal. But it was really hard and I struggled on the mountain.

I didn’t tell anyone about Alpine Lily at first, not even my husband. I was scared of putting myself out there, sharing my weaknesses, free to be judged by anybody and everybody and especially my friends and family. Then one day I just decided to put Lily out there, just like the day we decided to climb Glacier Peak. And I did it. I climbed the mountain, created Alpine Lily and now I told my story. The story isn’t the perfect tale I had in my head, but it’s better than perfect because it’s real and it’s mine.

As I publish this post I will be on my way to celebrate my 32nd birthday on a mountain. A smaller mountain than Glacier Peak and one with a lookout on top. I will certainly be snuggling with a blanket, reading a book and sipping tea. Nali will be incredibly well behaved, and when the sun sets my husband and I will lay on the rocks with our heads together as meteors blaze before our eyes into the atmosphere. He’ll take out a perfect little vanilla cupcake with confetti inside AND the confetti icing and I will smile and say, how did you know, and how did you get that up here intact? And it will be perfect.

When I get home I will tell you the real story, and it will be better than perfect.

“It is not the critic that counts; not the man who points out how

the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.

The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust

and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again,

because there is no effort without error and shortcoming;

but who does actually strive to do the deeds;

who knows great enthusiasm, the great devotions, who spends himself in a worthy cause;

who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails,

at least fails while daring greatly…” – Theodore Roosevelt

See Also: Setting Goals: 30 by 30

Note: We found out later that the hail and thunderstorms on the night after our summit climb ravaged the North Cascades. 70 people were stranded at the Cascade Pass trailhead when the Cascade River Road was washed out and a separate landslide blocked Highway 20.
Cascade River Road Washout
Slide Blocks Hwy 20

Daring Greatly by Brené Brown

In this profound and eye-opening book, Brené dispells the myth that being vulnerable is a weakness. We are bombarded with so many messages these days that perfection is ideal, so we often hold back on putting ourselves out there for fear of being not good enough or being criticized by others. I’ve certainly felt that way, but this book and Brené’s TED talk helped me to realize that the people I most admire are bold and never play it safe, they dare greatly, and if they fail at least they did so by giving it their best, and that is better than perfection.

Outdoor Life

Alpine Lookout

August 10, 2015July 30, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

A few years ago during a summer much unlike the current one (there was actual snowpack), we wanted to go for an early season backpack trip. It was the last day of June and we thought we would give Alpine Lookout on Nason Ridge a try. We packed up our gear and headed to the trailhead off Highway 2. From the parking area we looked up to the ridge and saw that it was snow-free. So far so good. We headed up the purple lupine lined switchbacks, the air warm and thick with vanilla ponderosa pine scent.

There are two ways to get to Alpine Lookout, from the east or the west, on a long trail that traverses the length of Nason Ridge. We opted for the western approach with it’s easier trailhead access and it’s inviting alpine lake, Merritt Lake about halfway up the trail. We didn’t get far before we ran into snow.

We continued up looking for signs of a fork in the trail at about two miles (check) and then a creek (check). We crossed the creek on a sturdy snow bridge and then followed it up to the partially frozen lake just as our map indicated. We stopped for a snack and looked over the map. We located a saddle on the map and knew if we could find the saddle then we could follow the ridge to above treeline where the snow would give way to bare trail. It was right about then that we started noticing the mosquitoes.

We continued up the snow slapping bugs off our arms finding bits of the trail here and there and double checking the contours on the map to make sure we were heading the right way. After some bushwhacking, we found the saddle and the way was then obvious up the ridge. But I was agony. I’ve never encountered the kind of swarming mosquitoes that we encountered on that snowy trail. I swatted, slapped and cursed. I rubbed snow all over my exposed limbs and face. I showered myself in a fog of DEET. I finally yelled at the top of my lungs GET OFF OF ME! and then dropped my pack and rolled around in the hard crusted snow like I was on fire. It was not my proudest moment. My husband and the dog looked at me like I was crazy. But it kind of worked. Without another word I accepted my bitten fate in some deep down zen-like way and let the little jerks bite me.

I was rewarded for my (slightly) calm state when we broke out of the trees and onto the open ridge. The snow, and the mosquitoes along with it, gave way to lovely flower-lined trail. It was a glorious moment. We traversed through an old ghost forest. Skeletons of trees towered above, their crooked pointy limbs resembling the outline of the fire that burnt them long ago. But where there is death there is also life and I reveled in the uncountable varied species of plants and flowers growing on the steep ridge side. I discovered several plants that were new to me on that stretch of trail including the tiny pink steer’s head growing right in the middle of the trail. I laid down on my belly to get a photo.

Soon we pushed up the last bit of trail to the lookout. The views were incredible. Lake Wenatchee, Wenatchee Ridge, the White River and Little Wenatchee drainages were all right before our eyes. To the east we could see the tall mountains make their way down to Leavenworth and the plains beyond. No wonder this was a fire lookout site. The lookout itself was boarded up so we pitched our tent just below it hoping it would give us shelter from the wind if we needed it. We cooked dinner on the catwalk and watched rain showers sweep over the deep valleys. We heard far-off thunder and eventually the clouds headed our way. We sat in them for awhile and then took shelter in the tent. Nali curled up at our feet halfway on each of our sleeping pads and I read out loud to my husband as he slipped off to sleep.

The next morning I woke up and my right eye felt strange. My eyelid felt heavy and puffy. Ah! What’s wrong with my face? I asked my husband in a slight panic. He inspected it closely for a while and then laughed. You’ve got a huge mosquito bite right on your eyelid. You’ve got to be kidding me. Not only was my entire body covered in mosquito bites, but my eyelid, really? Ok, mosquitoes, you win this time. You win. I must have looked ridiculous coming down from the lookout but I didn’t care. I wore my droopy eyelid as a badge of honor as I collected more bug carcasses on my skin and added another adventurous backpack trip to the books.

Hikes Featured in this Post:
Alpine Lookout

Outdoor Life

Sourdough Mountain Lookout

July 31, 2015August 7, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

When I decided I wanted to hike up 30 peaks before I turned 30, I knew I had to put Sourdough on the list. This hike has a reputation for being tough but incredibly beautiful and bonus: there is a lookout at the top! And not just any lookout but a lookout made famous by the poet Gary Snyder with views of the endless jagged North Cascade peaks as well as Ross Lake and the emerald green Diablo Lake. It’s nearly a vertical mile to the lookout but worth every last excruciating step.

In 1952, Gary Snyder was looking for work through the Marblemount forest service and requested to be sent to the “highest, most remote, and most difficult-of-access lookout” in the district. They all laughed at him and sent him to Crater Mountain. He fell in love with the lookout life on that sharp-peaked mountain with a non-existent trail. He had to stash his supplies farther down the mountain and take many trips scrambling up and down to the lookout. But he relished in the solitude and practiced his zen buddhism. At the end of the season he didn’t want to leave the mountain and couldn’t wait for the next summer to return.

But the forest service decided not to man the Crater Mountain lookout in 1953. Turns out that the over 8000ft summit of Crater Mountain was too high to make a good lookout. Often the high lookout was obscured by clouds while nearby lower peaks were clear of the ceiling. So Gary was assigned to Sourdough Mountain. Gary called Sourdough “so mild in comparison” to Crater Mountain, which is hard to believe, but he no longer had to scramble up to the lookout with supplies. The mules dropped it all off at the front steps. Unfortunately, that summer would be his last at Sourdough or any other lookout for the matter. It was the McCarthy era and Gary was black-listed from government work for having relationships with alleged communists. Heartbroken and determined to work in the outdoors rather than have a regular 9-5, he resorted to a logging job in Oregon. Some of his best poetry came from this hard time in his life.

But before Gary Snyder there were the Davises. The nearby Davis Peak is named for Lucinda Davis, a single mother with three children who moved from Colorado into an abandoned cabin which she turned into a supply store for the busy mining areas of Thunder and Ruby creeks in the 1890’s. Lucinda and her son Glee made the first horse trail up to the summit of Sourdough where they would go for picnics. In 1915, Glee set up the first fire lookout site in the North Cascades on Sourdough. It was just a tent camp then before Glee built the first lookout structure in the cupola style of the time in 1917. The lookout stood watch until the 1930’s when it was replaced by a more modern style. This modern structure is the lookout that Gary Snyder would later man in 1953 and still stands today.

Things to Do Around a Lookout

Wrap up in a blanket in cold weather and just read

Practice writing Chinese characters with a brush

Paint pictures of the mountains

Put out salt for deer

Bake coffee cake and biscuit in the iron oven

-Excerpt from poem by Gary Snyder

I climbed for what seemed like all day through the ghost forest on Sourdough when I broke out into the high meadows. I was yet to see another person on the trail and I stopped in my tracks to gaze upon the glacial green Diablo Lake almost a mile below. The sitka valerian and spirea swayed softly in the wind as my skin soaked up the sun. I tore myself away with the promise of even more rewarding views at the lookout. Just as I crested the summit I passed a man and his son just starting their descent. “You made it all the way up here on your own?” he asked. “You bet I did,” I replied.

Riprap and Cold Mountain Poems by Gary Snyder

This is Gary’s first book of published poems and it is the one that made him famous. There are a few poems in the book about his time as a lookout and as a logger in Oregon, but most of the poems are about his time spent in the Sierra Nevada in California where he still lives today. His style is heavily influenced by the beautifully simplistic Japanese style and was a revolution in American poetry in it’s day. This collection is a wonderful example of his great nature poetry and makes a great addition to the outdoor book lover’s bookshelf.

Hikes Featured in this Post:
Sourdough Mountain

Outdoor Life

Hiking History: Mount Pilchuck

July 29, 2015July 30, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

If you ask a Seattlelite what their first mountain summit was, they will most likely say Mt Pilchuck. The road to the trailhead is just across the National Forest boundary about an hour from Seattle and the drive to the trailhead gets most of the pesky elevation out of the way making for a short and sweet hike with great views of the North Cascades.

Mt Pilchuck was first climbed in 1897 from the Monte Cristo railroad by a USGS employee. In 1918 a trail was built when the mountain was chosen as one of the first lookout sites in the area. Building the lookout was quite a feat in those days, twelve feet were blasted off the top of the mountain and materials were hand-winched up the craggy boulders. The lookout was replaced a few times throughout the years and finally abandoned in the 1960’s. The lookout was restored in 1990 by the Mountaineers. 105 people spent an astonishing 10,000 hours restoring the lookout.

We can thank an ambitious ski endeavor for the road that goes most of the way up the mountain. In 1957, Mt Pilchuck was turned into a ski area. The single chair lift loaded skiers at the parking lot (in the same place it’s located today) and carried them high on the mountain for only a few dollars a day. In 1980, the ski area closed due to lack of favorable snow conditions. You can still see remnants of the mountain’s ski era on the trail today.

In late August 2007 I took a day off work and my husband and I climbed to the lookout. It was our first summit in the Washington Cascades and will always have a special place in our hearts. I remember climbing the metal-runged ladder the last bit to the lookout building and signing the register with the exclamation “1st summit!” following our names. Nowadays I love taking my friends and new hikers to this gem of a hike right in our backyard.

More Info About Mt Pilchuck (with photos of the old ski area):
Fifty Years Ago at Mt. Pilchuck on Sun Breaks Blog
Lost Ski Areas of Washington: Mt Pilchuck

Hikes Featured in this Post:
Mt Pilchuck

Outdoor Life

Hiking History: Tatoosh

July 24, 2015August 7, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

In 1943 the Packwood district forest service, located just south of Mt Rainier National Park, assigned their first lady lookout to Tatoosh Ridge. A Seattle school teacher named Martha Hardy spent that summer in the lookout watching for fires, keeping the lookout fixed up and tidy and befriending a ground squirrel. Back then they couldn’t leave the lookout without permission for the entire summer. She asked to go run a new telephone wire to the pole outside so that she could frolic in the avalanche lilies just a little bit. She wrote a book about her summer as a lookout and doesn’t shy away from sharing her fears, mistakes and loneliness during her time on Tatoosh. In fact, the first fire that she called in ended up being just a waterfall. She was horrified, but she eventually became friendly with the receptionists and the forest service men below and her mistake turned into a cherished and funny memory.

“Without my willing it or knowing how it came about, I was a rock with the rocks, a bee with the bees, a flower with the flowers. My ears drank in the murmur of the wind, my skin the sunshine, my eyes the flutter of a small blue butterfly over a mat of lavender phlox. I was part of all I saw and heard and felt.” – Martha Hardy

So naturally, after reading about this spunky local trailblazer, I had to go follow in her footsteps. I enlisted a hiking buddy and last weekend we headed to Tatoosh. The lookout itself is long gone and the trail is listed as “endangered” in the hiking guide book with little foot traffic these days. We knew the road was washed out before the trailhead too so we were ready for a bit of an adventurous day. We parked at the washout, headed up the last bit of road and found the trail abruptly rising through the forest. We strangely but happily snacked on ripened huckleberries and blueberries along the trail, which is usually a late August luxury, and finally broke out into the high meadows. Radiant fireweed painted the hillsides a deep magenta and we stopped to marvel at the variety of wildflowers on the trail although they were a bit past their prime already.

Once we were high on the ridge we started looking for a trail heading up to our left and found one after a short time. We made a last push on a fading trail to the summit on a small landing overlooking Tatoosh Lakes below. We were blown away by the views of Mt Rainier. I wandered around looking for any traces of the lookout (their weren’t any) and we celebrated with some gingerbread that I made in honor of Martha Hardy. When she had guests at the lookout she would get so excited that she would cook a massive amount of food for them like spaghetti and meatballs, chicken soup, biscuits and gingerbread. I found an old war time recipe that I thought may be similar to what she made. It was pretty good, but we made a list of ingredients that we thought would make it better like dried fruit, raisins and chunks of ginger. After a long time imagining what it would have been like spending every day right at this spot we got out the map to identify the surrounding peaks. Then we figured out we were on the wrong mountain.

In retrospect it was quite obvious that we were in the wrong place. The first thing I said at the top was, “huh, I wonder why they didn’t put the lookout on that bigger ridge over there,” while pointing to the actual lookout spot. And my trail buddy was wondering why we couldn’t see the smaller lakes we knew were below the lookout site. Also, it didn’t seem like we hiked far enough to be there already. After a closer look at the map we determined we had about another mile and a half to go. We laughed in disbelief and then decided to go for it the rest of the way over to the real lookout site. We hustled along the mostly flat trail while I kept exclaiming, “After all that, I can’t believe we went to the wrong mountain! Ahh!” The tread worsened along the steep ridge and after we turned a corner we found we were still pretty far away and significantly lower than the top of the ridge. We checked our water and energy levels and decided both were pretty low. We reluctantly decided to save it for another time. I was sad that my master plan was thwarted but as we hiked down the steep trail we came up with a plan for an improved return trip. We would come back when the wildflowers are in full bloom and with a new and enhanced version of gingerbread.

After what seemed like forever we were back at the car. On the way home we talked about how beautiful the little-used trail was and we were already looking forward to returning. We now knew what we were getting into and would not make the same mistake again. But like Martha mistaking a waterfall for a wildfire, our misguided effort turned into a great story, one that we will not soon forget. It was still an incredible hike and I will just have to dream about Martha Hardy’s little slice of paradise for another year. Next summer I’ll re-read the book while perfecting my gingerbread recipe in anticipation. And sometimes the anticipation is the best part.

Gingerbread Recipe:

2 1/2 cups flour
2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp ground ginger
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground cloves
1 cup sugar
1 cup vegetable oil
1 cup molasses
1 cup boiling water
2 eggs

1. Sift flour, measure; sift again with baking soda, salt and spices.

2. In a separate bowl, combine sugar, vegetable oil and molasses; add boiling water; stir until well mixed. Add dry ingredients gradually, beating well after each addition.

3. Add well-beaten eggs.

4. Bake in well-greased 8 x 8 square pan at 350˚F for 40 minutes or until gingerbread is done.

Tatoosh by Martha Hardy

Martha Hardy’s writing really makes you feel like you are there on the lookout back in 1943. This book is so different from the lookout accounts I featured in the Camp Reads: Lookout Edition. Being a lookout in the 1940’2 was hard work. She was one tough lady to do what she did back then, but she didn’t think that she was different than her male counterparts and just did her best to perform her duties. Her story is funny, real and incredibly entertaining. It now has a special place on my bookshelf.

Outdoor Life

Inspired: May / Jun 2015

July 10, 2015March 1, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

Summer is here! It’s pretty easy to be inspired this time of year, the sun is shining and there is so much to explore! But just in case you need an extra dose, here are some great things I discovered lately.

Independent Bookstore Day
May 2 was a day to celebrate our great local independent bookstores. Here in Seattle, 17 bookstores participated by holding special events, giving out freebies, deals and more. Participants could get a passport stamped at every store for a special prize. Of course this is pretty much everything I’ve ever dreamed of and I spent days mapping out a route (which included a ferry ride) to all the stores. My last stop of the day was Liberty Bay Books in Poulsbo and I was treated like a queen. I had free stuff thrust upon me including a delicious (and much deserved) beer. I also got to hang out with Jonathan Evison and chat about the Olympics and whatnot. No big deal. To top it off I got a discount card for 25% off any purchases at the participating bookstores for a whole year. I discovered so many hidden bookstore gems in our great city and I can’t wait to visit them all throughout the year and all in one day again next year!

One Second Everyday
Recently I listened to this TED talk from Cesar Kuriyama about time and how there are so many little beautiful moments that add up to your life but you can’t possibly remember them all. So Cesar came up with the idea for an app that stitches together one second snippets each day into a continuous video. I decided to use the app to create a video for my summer. I started on the first day of summer and I will share my video with you in a couple months. I predict lots of trails, sails and Nali tails and lots of reading in the hammock.

Nature is Good for You!
Lately it seems like the internet is abuzz with studies showing that nature is good for us. I have certainly witnessed this first hand (who doesn’t feel elated at the top of a mountain?) but it’s nice to know that there is actual science that proves things like:

Nature Walks Are Good for Your Brain!

Nature-Lovers are Happy, Healthy and Innovative!

Hiking is Good for Your Mental Health!

It Even Makes Your Kids Smarter!

Now that makes me want to hit the trails.

What I’ve Been Reading:

New Books I’m Excited To Read:

Coming Soon on the Blog:
Lookouts Galore! / Glacier Peak Climb / Summer Road Trips

What has been inspiring YOU lately? Have you recently discovered an inspiring person, read a great book or attended an exciting event? Tell me about it in the comments!