Outdoor Life

A Lookout, Rocks, and Pumpkins

These are a few of my favorite things…

What is not my favorite thing? Being in the car with my almost two-year-old for any extended amount of time. But the crying, the screaming, the throwing things (mostly her, maybe a little bit me), was all worth it in the end. I was excited about this one. A super short little trail zigs up a for hot minute to Red Top Lookout and some spectacular Teanaway scenery. I had high hopes that Evie might even walk herself all the way to the top. She didn’t, but she walked about halfway up the steep trail and I was super proud when she said “backpack, backpack” for the first time, as in, “put me in the backpack and give me a snack now before I have a meltdown.” We put her in the pack, gave her a snack, and she was happy.

First built in 1952, Red Top lookout stands watch at roughly 5400 feet. It was restored in 1997 and is kept up by wonderful volunteers, making it one of the best kept lookouts I’ve been to. Some volunteers were there for the weekend and opened it up for us to peek inside. The two young men, swimming in their green Forest Service vests, described themselves as “lookout junkies.” A fuzzy blond dog was curled up on the cot as we swapped lookout stories.

After taking in the views of Mount Stuart, Rainier, and evens Adams, we continued on to go rock hunting. I thought this was the appropriate description until we reached the agate beds complete with a sign board listing rules and tips. It is actually called “rock hounding” according to the board. I was so excited, especially now that I knew what it actually called! I already felt like a pro. The instructions asked rock hounds to refill any digging holes and recommended using the “15 minute rule” to prevent harvesting too many rocks to carry back with you. It suggests holding the rock in your hand for 15 minutes and then looking at it again. If you love it, keep it. If you’re not sure carry it another 15 minutes. It then reads, “by this point, you should be pretty sure this is a rock you want to keep. If not, toss it back.” I love this rule.

Some folks passed us carrying shovels, grates, and hammers. “Going rock hunting?” I asked. Rookie mistake, surely true rock hounds don’t call it “rock hunting.” They entertained my question with a vague answer and I mentioned we were looking ourselves, we just don’t know what we’re looking for. My husband and I exchanged a glance with an awkward chuckle, hoping they would offer us a little advice. They didn’t. We made note of their gear to bring next time.

We picked around in the rocks looking for anything unusual or shiny. We were banking on beginners luck and Evie is really good at picking rocks. She picked them up and shoved them in my face saying, “ock, ock” until I looked at her and gave her my full attention, saying, “oh yes, that’s a nice rock.” Then she would point to more rocks and say, “nice ock.” Unfortunately, she didn’t find anything unusual or shiny.

We found a big hole that was already dug and decided that the mother load was once found there. We sat down and settled in, Evie between my legs babbling and picking away. We dug for awhile and were getting ready to move along when my husband found something interesting. I remembered reading something in the guide book about rare Ellensburg blue agate and thunder eggs being found here. We remembered that the sign board gave a hint: crystals are shiny and agates are translucent. This little nugget was blue and translucent. NO WAY! I yelled and then promptly dug in the same spot for more. We found a few more translucent white agates. They were tiny and mottled in muddy clay. I had to spit on them to see any color, but I was over the moon. We found something, maybe even some rare blue agate! We were officially rock hounds!

I could have stayed there looking all day and I think Evie could have too. But the blue skies had been slowly clouding up, the wind cooling with a fall crisp. We headed back to the car with our loot, just a pocket full or two of rocks. Later that night at home, I rinsed the rocks in the kitchen sink. The smell of earth released from the rocks overwhelmed my senses, I felt like I could taste it. Then in the shower, the same smell came from my hands. I breathed it in, the mountain colliding with my home, everything connected. I felt whole.

We took the long way home from Red Top. As Evie slept, we took a side road to explore the old ghost town of Liberty. We drove through the farm fields and small towns of the Cascade foothills. We found a pumpkin patch just after Evie woke from her nap.

We let Evie roam free in the pumpkin field as we each chose our favorites. My husband chose a large one, perfect for a classic moonshine face, I chose a smaller pastel orange one reminiscent of Cinderella’s carriage and we chose a little green one for Evie, one she pointed at a few times and we took as a the chosen one. However, we soon realized that she pointed at ALL of the pumpkins.

It wasn’t a perfect day. I’m fully convinced that any day with a toddler could never be bestowed with such a word. But it was a great day and an undeniably fall one. The very best kind: one full of my favorite things and my favorite people.

 

Outdoor Life

Hidden Lake Lookout

For my birthday weekend my husband and I packed up Evie and doggie Nali to go camping at Marble Creek Campground. We planned it so that I could go for a solo hike on my birthday to get to my goal of 50 peaks. I decided on Hidden Lake Peak as the grand finale. It’s arguably one of the most beautiful trails in the Cascades and I wanted something challenging. And for an added bonus, there’s a lookout at the top.

We snagged a river-front spot and set up camp. Evie helped me set up the tent (she did actually mostly help!) and we lazed around eating snacks. We brought an Evie-sized chair, but she mostly just wanted to sit it one of our grown-up chairs, sitting up and very proud of herself. One of her favorite things to say these days is “sit down.” We had a bit of a panic moment when we couldn’t find her binky. We only brought one and we knew that getting to sleep was going to be an issue if we didn’t find it asap. We searched for like two hours, scouring the cars and campsite but couldn’t find it. We decided it was just going to have to be the day she gives up the binky cold turkey.

We went for a walk and found a path leading down to Marble Creek. There were gorgeous sandy beaches and the water was cold and turquoise. We sat on the shore and threw rocks for Nali to chase in the water. We had to keep Evie from walking straight into the water. That girl has no fear. We played in the sand and collected rocks until it was dinner time and headed back to camp for a dinner of burgers.

I was very nervous about the missing binky as bedtime approched, but it turned out fine. Evie fussed and cried but eventually fell asleep and I was actually happy that it happened this way. It is much harder to resist giving into her when I have a choice, but this time I had nothing to give her. As I’m writing this, it’s been four days and last night was the first time since that fateful day that she went right to sleep without a peep. Yay! My husband and I distracted ourselves from her cries with a game. We’ve had Bananagrams for years and finally decided to get it out and try it. It’s basically a speed version of scrabble and got hooked.

The next morning my husband made breakfast and I geared up for the day’s climb to Hidden Lake Peak. I lingered for a while before convincing myself that it was time to go off on my own. I said my goodbyes and headed to the trailhead, just a few miles down the road. I noticed that the sky was white and wondered if it was fog or smoke from forest fires. As I started out on the trail, it was clear that it was smoke. The smoke affects the sunlight differently than fog. It filters the sunlight, where fog tends to fully block it. The sun appeared as an eerie orange orb and a fiery orange glow lit up the forest.

After a short and steep climb through the forest I popped out into an open meadow. Now the severity of the smoky haze was apparent. I could hardly see across to the peaks above the valley and looking down was a complete white-out. It was even worse than I thought. The flowers in the meadow made up for the lack of views and the filtered sun made for nice photos, but I was really hoping the smoke would go away.

The trail climbs, sometimes quite steeply, through an open avalanche chute covered in flowers. It was a spectacular display, one of the best I’ve seen in the Cascades. I stopped to catch my breath and took way too many photos. There were lots of small water crossings and I plunged a bandana in the cool water to wrap around the back of my neck. It helped. Eventually, I was above the gulley and the trail mellowed a bit through high alpine heather and granite. Although there were plenty of people on the trail, it was quiet. So quiet. I didn’t hear even a single bird call or pika squeak. With the lack of wildflowers up high, the white of the sky and the white and brown of the granite and trail, it felt like sensory deprivation.

But I continued on and soon the lookout was in view. The descriptions of the trail warned me that it would seem like there is no possible way to get up to the lookout. I already knew this yet I still gaped up at the mountain and wondered how the heck I was going to get up there. It seemed impossible. I was tired and the smoke was giving me a headache. I couldn’t see any of the spectacular views that were supposed to be had and now the trail was getting hard to follow. I emerged on a saddle above Hidden Lake and looked at it with disgust. I could barely make out the outline of the lake and the jagged peaks that surround it, my beloved North Cascade peaks, were obscured by thick smoke.

I thought of turning back, but then I reasoned that getting up to the lookout would brighten my spirits. I followed cairns that led me back and forth between a steep exposed trail and a scrambling route. I did my best to not look down and just go up. I saw that the lookout was much closer now but I still wondered how the heck I was going to get up there. It is vicariously perched on a pile of boulders. They didn’t bother to put a catwalk or even an entryway for that matter on the thing, due to the shear drop-offs on all sides. And when I reached the door it was closed. I could hear people inside, but didn’t want to bother them. I shuffled back down the rocks to the saddle, waited for my nerves to calm and then ate some food.

Instead of appreciating my alone time and reflecting on my 35 years and whatever, I really just wanted to get down the mountain. I was sad that I was expecting an epic hike and didn’t get it. I was sad about the smoky air and that the whole state (and British Columbia for that matter) seems to be on fire. This is not what it was like when we moved here over a decade ago and I’m worried that the smoky summers like this one and last year will become normal or worse.

But as I hiked down the smoke began to clear just a tiny bit. I could make out the green of the meadows and as the wildflowers came back into view, I realized just how beautiful it really was. I even noticed later that there was even some blue sky in my photos. After all these years, it is still an important reminder to find beauty everywhere, even if I have to work to seek it out.

Outdoor Life

Mount Sawyer

As the weekend rolled around I realized that I need to hike three more peaks in ten days to get to my goal of 50 peaks by 35! This time my husband and Evie came with me to Mount Sawyer. I chose this one because it is relatively easy for carrying up a toddler and I saw from the latest trip reports that lovely wildflowers were blooming.

It was a cool day, one where the fog hung lazily in the valleys and the vegetation on the trail was covered in perfect little drops of water. Evie walked about a quarter mile, investigating the ferns and practicing a new word she learned, “up.” Once she plunked herself down in the middle of the trail, we knew it was time for her to go into the carrier. After a little coaxing with a snack, she settled in for the ride.

The trail gently follows Tonga Ridge through hemlock with occasional openings to the south revealing Mount Hinman and Mount Daniel, both capped in snowfields. Fireweed lined the trail along with large red paintbrush, the occasional tiger lily. The farther we walked, the more diverse the species got. I spotted some white pine and fir trees and it seemed like each clearing revealed different flowers: purple penstemon and aster, sitka valerian.

After a couple miles we reached the turn off for Mount Sawyer. The trail climbs steeply up on eroding tread before returning to a more gradual incline. It was not too long until we were above treeline with sweeping views of the valley. The flowers gave way to a hillside full of blueberries. They were not quite ripe yet, but I managed to find a handful of good ones. I snacked on a few and carried the rest to the top to share with my husband and Evie.

The trail takes a long sweep along the backside before the last push to the summit. From there, you could see the views to the north along with a distinct layer of hazy smoke from wildfires. We just made out Glacier Peak in an orange hazy glow and Sloan Peak along its side.

There are lots of little spur trails on the summit and I wandered around to find different perspectives. We lingered for a while as Evie explored and climbed on rocks and ate her usual peanut butter and jelly sandwich. When we had enough, we packed up and headed back down the mountain through the flowers again.

Outdoor Life

Mount Catherine

I was not excited about this one. I decided to go at the last minute and wasn’t mentally prepared. I needed to find a peak for 50 by 35 with a short trail that I could take Evie on. This one seemed doable, but the guide book gave it a rating of 2 out of 5 stars. I mean really? I figure any hike that gets you to the top of a mountain with some decent views should get at least 3 stars. Anyway, then I also read that the road to the trailhead was rough and some people were parking along the road adding an extra 2 miles to the round trip. Lastly, I found that there was a steep section at the top that required a little scramble with a cable rope. This normally would not be an issue, but could I do it by myself with Evie on my back?

I decided to try it anyway. I could always turn around if I got uncomfortable. I packed up Evie and tried to figure out what I forgot while I drive to the trailhead. I tripled checked that I had my hiking boots since just a few weeks ago I forgot them (yep, I was that lady hiking in flip flops with a baby on my back, oops) and realized that I forgot my hiking poles that I like to use with Evie. Oh well, could be worse.

 

When I got to the rough part of the road I got out to take a look. It seemed not too bad and I was driving our high clearance wagon, but when I’m by myself with Evie, I tend to get extra cautious. I sat and waited assuming someone would be coming up behind me soon. Sure enough a big Suburban came by. The driver, a seasoned mom with a gaggle of kids in the back got out to look. She decided it was no problem for her and asked me if I wanted a ride. I said no thanks and watched her go on with little hesitation, admiring her confidence. I sat and waited a little longer. Sure, we could have just walked from there, but I really didn’t want to do the extra road walk, especially in the heat of summer. Then I just started up the car and went for it. And was completely fine.

 

The short trail heads up from the beginning. It wasn’t terribly difficult, but Evie is getting terribly heavy. I had put her sun shade on and she was grabbing it, pulling it down onto my head. Whatever, I thought, at least it’s a short trail. When she started screaming and pulling my hair, I stopped and put her down. I realized she had dropped her prized fox lovey. I was debating between going back to find it or to just continue and find it on the way back down, when a kind man found it and brought it up to us. Crisis adverted, but just for a few switchbacks until she started screaming again. I put her down, tried to feed her everything in my bag, checked her diaper, offered water, did all the things and nothing worked. I just sat there thinking about what to do when she calmed down a little bit and started walking up the trail. Of course, why didn’t I think of it before? She just wanted to walk on her own.

She walked up the switchbacks like a champ. We even passed some nice folks who were taking a break and they were impressed. She walked much longer than I expected, and as we neared the top, I knew I would have to get her back in the pack for the last scramble. Getting her into the pack was as difficult as I thought it would be and I apologized to other hikers for all the screaming. But finally she settled and I carried her up to the cable rope. It was a very short section and like earlier in the car, I just went for it without thinking about it too much. As I took the last few steps up, the group we saw earlier were there cheering us on. I looked back and wondered how the heck I was going to get back down, but for now I just needed to find a shady spot that wasn’t too close to the edge. When I put Evie down I realized I was shaking.

 

We took in the views of Mt Rainier, Snoqualmie Pass, and the surrounding peaks. Butterflies fluttered by without a care in the world. While Evie ate her PB&J, I discovered the summit register in a box under the tree that was shading us. I made our climb official and carefully tucked the register back in the box. It was nice, but I was eager to get down. I struck up a conversation with a nice couple who had a 4-year-old at home. They gave me some tips and I asked if I could go with them down the initial scramble. They found an easier way for me to get down and followed behind me to make sure I got down ok. When they headed off ahead of me they told me if I needed anything to just holler down the trail. This small act of kindness made my heart sing.

 

I sang to Evie on the descent and she quickly fell asleep. At the trailhead I gingerly scooped her up out of the carrier. Her head rested on my shoulder and I hugged her in tight for a minute before lowering her down into the carseat still asleep. This had never happened before, she always wakes up when I pick her up. But every day now she is changing and growing. No longer satisfied with the constraints of the backpack, she is becoming independent and strong-willed. My baby is now a toddler.

Outdoor Life

Boardman Lake

Early summer is for alpine lakes in my book. We took advantage of a promising forecast and packed Evie up to Boardman Lake on the Mountain Loop Highway. The long, bumpy drive makes for a solitary and short hike to the lake. We pulled into the empty trailhead and let Evie lead the way, fox lovey in hand.

I optimistically thought that maybe our budding little hiker would walk the whole 1 mile to the lake, but as it turns out, a mile is a LONG way. Especially for such tiny legs with the brain of a squirrel. Her little mind was like a sponge and she wanted to investigate every plant and rock along the trail. I was, however, so proud that she made it up the root-filled trail all the way to Lake Evans, the first stop along the trail, about a quarter mile in.

Lake Evans is more of a pond than a lake, and Nali promptly jumped into it with a splash. Evie, eager to follow suit, marched right up to the water’s edge. We had to hold her back and tried to distract her by pointing out a small frog hopping around. This seemed like a slam dunk of a distraction to me, but she was completely unimpressed and continued to insist on walking right on into the water.

We managed to guide her away from the lake and back to the trail. She walked a bit longer up over rocks and roots, holding my hand. When she sat down in the middle of the trail we took it as a cue to put her in the pack. She didn’t resist.

It wasn’t far to the lake and we headed clockwise around it and across a log jam to find a place for lunch. We found a nice little beach and had some snacks.

Nali stomped around the shallows of the water despite the icebergs still floating on the surface. Evie, always eager to play in the water, watched enviously from the shore.

For a short little hike, it was quite a pleasant one. We had the place to ourselves and there was a yellow glow to the lake from some pollen or algae that gave it a pretty and surreal feel. It felt good to be out and even a tiny bit adventurous.

Road Trip

Arizona Part 3: Sedona

Day 5: Red Rock State Park

We started our first full day in Sedona at the Coffee Pot Restaurant. Named after the nearby rock formation, this diner boasts a menu of 101 omelets. I had a wonderful omelet but was overwhelmed by the crowded space and endless choices. We had been in the wilderness for less than a week, but I was certainly not ready for the onslaught of civilization. We quickly ate and retreated to the trails.

There are lots of trails along the Red Rock Loop and it seems like you really can’t go wrong anywhere here. We decided to first check out Red Rock State Park. After sorting out the backpacks and gear and slathering on the SPF, Evie, perhaps feeling my uncomfortable vibes at breakfast, decided to have a complete meltdown in the parking lot when we tried to put her in the backpack.

We packed everything back into the car, including Evie, and went for a short drive to another trailhead. That did the trick and we were back on schedule. We let her walk on her own for a bit and after a short while she was ready for the pack and a nap. The trail started out in a lovely forest and crossed the clear Oak Creek. From there the hardwoods gave way to prickly pear and juniper as we got farther away from the water. I was super excited to find a bright pink hedgehog cactus bloom and even a lone yellow prickly pear bloom.

After climbing to some views, we headed back to the Visitors Center for some shade. There is a nice little patio outside next to a garden with several bird and hummingbird feeders. The birds were everywhere, the hummingbirds buzzed and we even spied a snake resting in the shade. Then we headed to a big picnic area to sit in the shade and made our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch.

It was still early afternoon but too hot to go for another hike. So we headed back up Oak Creek Canyon and stopped at Indian Gardens for something cold. The charming market didn’t disappoint with its selection of cold beverages. I peaked out onto the patio and decided we HAD to go back the next day for breakfast. Then we drove a bit farther and found a spot to pull off the road and access the creek.

The spot was shady and cool. We got Evie into her swimsuit and my husband took her out into the calm, cool water. She couldn’t get enough. She walked right in with zero hesitation and had no intention of leaving the water. She splashed around in the mud and collected more rocks. I lounged on a boulder and sipped a cold crisp cider. We decided this was the only way to survive here.

 

Day 6: Sedona to Scottsdale

The next morning we headed back to Indian Gardens for breakfast. We sat in the cool morning air on the patio surrounded by flowers. Evie dug into her massive toast with almond butter, bananas, and honey. She needed a bath after that! I savored my tasty chai latte and breakfast sandwich. I could definitely get used to this place.

Next we headed back to the Red Rock Loop and found the Margs Draw Trail. I love how easy it is to find a trail in Sedona, there seems to be an endless supply. Evie was more cooperative this time and my husband carried her as I pointed too a bunch of quails that took over a small tree. She looked at them stoically, unimpressed. I scoured the prickly pear for blooms and admired the minty green of the agave.

Rusty rock formations towered above us and I struggled to recognize the shapes they were named after: Snoopy, coffee pot, cathedral, bell, courthouse. Sure, I suppose you could make out the references if you looked really hard, but I preferred to just think of them as wild rocks untarnished of images of ordinary things. They deserve better.

The day grew warmer and warmer and it seemed we had hiked much more than the 1.5 miles one way advertised in the guide book. We dipped into countless washes and I scanned the horizon with eagle eyes looking for coyotes. I wanted to see one so bad! I knew it was unlikely they would be out in the heat of the day. We were getting tired and hot when we decided we had indeed gone farther than 1.5 miles and turned around. Not long after that we ran into a family from Florida who told us they were lost. The mother was convinced they were going the wrong way and we showed them the way back to the road. They hadn’t been out for long and were so close to civilization that there was no way I thought it would be possible to get lost. Right? They didn’t have any water with them but they were joking and having fun. Later we ran into another couple from Phoenix who also told us they were lost. Man, this was not a place where I would want to be even the slightest bit lost.

After what turned out to be closer to a 6 mile round trip hike, we found refuge in the air conditioning of the car. Our plastic America the Beautiful pass had warped beyond repair on the dashboard, but the water in the shade of the back seat stayed cool. As we headed south out of Sedona, I wanted something cold. We stopped at the gas station and they were completely out of ice cream and popsicles of any kind! I was outraged but then decided that it made sense in this crazy desert. I settled for a cherry Slurpee.

Our destination for the day was a hotel with air conditioning and a shower in Scottsdale that I was admittedly very excited to get to. We had a little ways to go though, and we decided to take the scenic route. We drove through the high little mountain towns of Pine and Strawberry and when we saw signs for the Tonto Natural Bridge, I looked it up in the book. It seemed like it might be cool and we needed a break anyway, so we stopped.

We hiked down a short and steep trail into a large canyon of travertine. The tan canyon walls looked like they were melting into the abyss. As we dropped down into the canyon we had to hop across smooth eroded rock to get below the bridge. When we finally saw it our jaws dropped. The bridge and tunnel below it were massive. Up close the massive and porous travertine boulders looked like dinosaur bones. It was one of the most bizarre and fascinating places I’ve ever been. I was so  glad we stopped even if it slightly delayed my cold shower. It was worth it.

As our plane descended into Seattle the next morning, my starved eyes were fed with the most brilliant of greens. While we were gone, the trees had leafed out into piercing spring emerald green. I felt so lucky to live in a place with so much green and water. I also came home with a respect for the desert, for the availability of drinking water, and frankly a love of Arizona that I was not expecting. This trip made a lasting impression on me- I think of that man washing his dishes in such little water often and find myself scanning the road side for wildlife. I look forward to returning to Arizona. Always in the coolest of seasons, and always looking for coyotes.

Road Trip

Arizona Part 2: Grand Canyon

Day 3: Grand Canyon National Park

The next morning was like Christmas. We woke up to the soft rays of the rising sun through the juniper and prickly pear. We bundled up, made breakfast (I rushed it as much as possible), and then headed over to Desert Tower, not far from our campsite. The sky was a dark, piercing blue, the kind you get on a crisp fall day, and just a few clouds lingered from the interesting weather from the past day. The strange-looking stone tower was not open yet and we had the place to ourselves. We took in the sweeping views, down into the heart of the canyon as the Colorado shined like a silver snake.

The scale of the canyon is of course difficult to describe. It is a thing that you have to see to believe. One could sit and look for days into the canyon and see a thousand new things. I know people hike rim to rim, but from here it seemed an impossible task. The north rim must be at least 10 miles away as the crow flies, if not more. I am used to thinking that the higher up you go into the mountains, the more remote it is. Here, though, it is the opposite. It felt kind of strange and voyeuristic to look down into the remote canyon, knowing that people were down there with little in the way of amenities tackling their journeys while we were watching cozy and comfy from above.

After we tore ourselves away from the gorgeous views, we drove to the Grand Canyon Visitor Center to start our hike. The vibe here was much different than what we got at Desert Tower. We pulled into a massive parking lot that was already almost full and we committed the red antelope on the parking lot sign to memory like we were in an amusement park. We followed the people to the visitor center and found the Rim Trail.

The Rim Trail is nice in that it is mostly accessible for anyone, is easy to follow, and you can walk as long as you’d like and then hop on a shuttle bus to get back to the car. I appreciated the setup with the shuttle buses and how it keeps cars off the roads and in turn keeps pollution and noise down. There were lots of people on the trail in the beginning but then the crowds thinned as we kept on. Our first stop was the geology museum at Yavapai Point in a little stone building perched on the rim. It wasn’t all that impressive to be honest, but as we left the museum and continued on the trail, we entered into the “Trail of Time” where time was depicted as golden markers on the trail.

We passed through a few hundred years quite quickly and kept into the thousands. After a while we passed by examples of the type of rock that was formed during that time period. Once we got into the millions of years ago, it started to get good. I enjoyed reading off the familiar names of the rock formations like Kaibab, Coconino, Supai, Bright Angel, Temple Butte. Then we got into the really fun ones, like folded Vishnu basement rock and Jupiter granite. These rocks were billions of years old! It was kind of mind-blowing.

Next we stopped to check out the Hopi House store. It was architect Mary Colter’s first work in the Grand Canyon and she modeled it after a pueblo. Native Americans were welcome to come and sell their goods here, and today it still serves as the best place along the south rim to souvenir shop. I picked up some things there including the gorgeous children’s book, The Girl Who Loved Wild Horses, and another one called Everybody Needs a Rock since Evie was in a serious rock collecting phase (we actually found little rocks in her baby pockets when we got home which almost made my heart explode with love).

We watched some hikers complete the long uphill climb of the Bright Angel Trail and then grabbed some lunch at the famous Bright Angel Lodge. Then we kept on walking. The views never got old and there was so much history to see. We checked out the Kolb Studio where the famous Kolb brothers showed the first motion picture from the inside of the canyon, filmed on their own journey down the Colorado. There was also its sleek rival, Lookout Studio. Unfortunately, both studios are now just souvenir shops without much reference to what they once were. We walked some more until we got tired and hopped on the shuttle to the end of the road at Hermit’s Rest.

There we basked in the sun and ordered ice cream at the little walk up store window. I waited in line while my husband and Evie went off to find a place to sit in the shade. Someone in front of me was asking where everyone was from. They answered: California, Australia, France, Germany. We Americans were in the minority and that felt kind of nice. I found my husband and Evie under a tree and Evie was making a little pile of rocks as became her favorite thing to do on this trip. We found respite from our day’s journey, as intended, and when we’d had enough, we hopped back on the shuttle to the village. On the way back we saw tons of elk along the road, just hanging out.

At the village we walked back the few miles to the parking lot. All of the sudden we noticed the clouds. Virga hung in the air in the canyon and it felt like you could reach out and touch it. Sunlight filtered through the openings in the clouds and highlighted ridges in the canyon, giving it even more dimension. We watched the clouds move around us and then we could see the hail coming down up ahead of us. It was only a matter of time until it hit us and turned to rain. It seemed that we missed the worst of it, though, as we watched people drenched from head to toe walking past us.

Later that night after dinner we headed back to the Desert Tower to watch the sunset. There was a crowd of people sitting along the edge. A few of the dramatic rain clouds stuck around for a show and we admired one as we found a nice rock to sit on among the crowd. It was quiet and we were all there for the same reason. Together we watched the blaze of yellow disappear behind the north rim and we experienced a famous Grand Canyon sunset. I have to say, it was quite grand.

Day 4: Grand Canyon to Sedona

The next morning we got a later start and headed back to Desert Tower. This time it was open so we went in to check it out. I didn’t know anything about the tower so when we walked up the stairs to the tower part, my jaw dropped. The inside of the tower was, from bottom to top, covered in Native American art. It was so beautiful and I wondered where it all came from. Turns out is was another of Mary Colter’s creations. I made a mental note to find out more about this woman (more about her later). I was so glad that we took the time to go back and see the inside of it. It is now one of my very favorite places.

Before we headed back out of the National Park, we stopped at the Tusayan ruins. The pueblo-like structures date back to 1185 AD and include the remains of a small Kiva. This is a room where the ancient people would gather for ceremonies, rituals, and meetings. Nearby, there was an open field where it is believed that people grew crops and collected water. The surrounding forest was full of useful plants. The information signs called it a “supermarket.” Pinon pines and Utah Juniper supplied wood for construction, heating, and cooking. The pine needles were used to make baskets and brewed into tea. The tree bark was used to make sandals and insulation, and pinon nuts and juniper berries were collected and eaten. The tough leaves of the yucca were braided into rope or made into shoes.

Next we headed back south toward Flagstaff and decided to stop and check out the Wupatki ruins in the Sunset Crater Volcano National Monument. This part of the park was much different than near the volcano. It was an open desert, prairie-like with little to no trees, just a few shrubs here and there. As we drove along the winding loop road we spotted some pronghorns watching us from a small hill. The loop road has several stops with short trails leading to ruins. These ruins also date back to the 1100’s and are pueblo-style.

The first ruin was Lomaki, meaning “beautiful house.” Evie fell asleep on the drive so my husband and I took turns on the short trail to let her nap in the car. The pueblo was situated above a small box canyon with views of the snow-capped San Fransisco peaks. These are the remains of a large stratovolcano and include Arizona’s highest peak, Humphreys Peak. It felt lonely there, out in the middle of nowhere, and I really really wanted to spot coyote or some more pronghorns, but no luck.

We continued on to the next ruins, Nalakihu and Citadel pueblos. Evie woke up so we all ate some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the blazing sun before tackling this one. Then she walked on her own all the way up to the top of the Citadel! I was so proud of her, even if we did have to stop and look at at least 500 rocks on the way. I’m totally ok with that.

Our last stop on the loop road was Wupatki, the largest and most impressive ruin. The National Parks paper says that life at Wupatki, “revolved around growing corn, praying for rain, and finding ways for people with diverse backgrounds to live together as a community.” The name Wupatki, means “tall house” in the Hopi language. It is several stories tall and contains over 100 rooms. This was a major trade center where traders would bring all kinds of exotic goods like scarlet macaws brought from tropical places and of course pottery, jewelry, and turquoise. Life here must have been very difficult, given there is little rain and vegetation.

In the visitor center you can borrow guide books that give information at certain locations along the trail. One of the most surprising things I read in the guide was that when this area became a National Monument, the rangers actually lived inside the ruins. They had kitchens and everything and often brought their wives to come live with them. Before that, it was common for sheepherders and cattlemen to live there too. I can’t imagine this happening now as it is so protected.

Back on road we drove for a bit and stopped at Walnut Canyon. It was getting quite hot outside now and the short trail from the visitor’s center dropped down 200 feet into the canyon and onto an “island.” The surrounding canyon was full of cliff dwellings. We pointed them out to each other and then pondered how on earth anyone could get to them. They were created roughly 800 years ago by the Sinagua people. They were most likely attracted to this canyon because of its abundance of plants and wildlife. It seems desolate now, but it is cool to think that long ago this canyon was full of people and you could just climb over to visit your neighbor’s dwelling.

It was getting late in the afternoon and it was also getting seriously hot. We drove to our next destination, Sedona, and found a campsite in Oak Creek Canyon. We set up camp and drove into town to find some food and refuge from the sun. We found some delicious Mexican food with lovely views of the surrounding red rocks. Then we came back to the campsite for our evening ritual of prickly pear candy and prickly pear tea before bed. There weren’t many rocks at this campsite, so I showed Evie that she could also collect pine cones. She went straight to work. When she was done we got her ready for bed and read her favorite Pancakes, Pancakes book and an adorable Native American board book about weather that I picked up at Brightside Books in Flagstaff. We were getting into a new routine now. I preferred this one and I knew it would be tough to go back to our old one.

Road Trip

Arizona Part 1: Verde Valley

Day 1: Phoenix to Dead Horse Ranch State Park

In the beginning of May we headed to Arizona for our annual spring road trip. (We did a spring road trip last year, so now it’s a tradition, right?) I was super excited because I had never been there and had been wanting to go there for a long time. We flew into Phoenix and headed north. Like last year, we didn’t have much of a plan. We stopped at REI and bought a map and a National Parks pass and I cracked open my guide book while my husband drove.

We headed to the small town of Cottonwood where I found Dead Horse State Park on the map. We found great camping there with gorgeous views. They even had showers AND a dish washing station. It was a little chilly and dark clouds threatened as we set up and got our bearings. We were in the Verde Valley and could see the “J” indicating the mining town of Jerome up in the mountains above us. Virga hung in the air toward Jerome and the smell of ozone overwhelmed us. We made a quick dinner and prepped for stormy weather in the tent. We bundled up and put Evie in her winter jam jams and sleep sack. It was not exactly the desert weather we were expecting!

Rain showers came and went all night but it was mostly dry when we woke up. We made breakfast and I took the dishes to wash at the station. An older man was already there, just getting started. I made myself cozy nearby and waited. It was a beautiful morning and it felt so good to just sit and watch a little yellow bird twitter around in a tree. The man finished with his dishes and I realized that I barely heard him use any water. Ah yes, of course, we were in a desert. Water is a valued resource here and not to be wasted. This was a good reminder of the importance of clean and fresh water and one that stuck with me.

Day 2: Tuzigoot to Desert View & Everything in between

We started the day at the nearby Tuzigoot Ruins. This ancient 110-room pueblo was built by the Sinagua people who lived there between 1000 and 1400. The stone structure sits atop a small hill with a view of the river valley below. We were surprised by how green it was along the Verde River, but should have guessed. We decided it was a nice place to make a home, beside the river and up high to see everything around. But it was exposed, and must get incredibly hot.

On this day, however, it was not hot. As we walked along the short path it began to rain and as each drop hit the ground it seemed to release every smell the surface had ever encountered. It smelled of coyote urine and dried grass. Ghosts of all the fauna that visited and all the flora that lived and died since the last rain were released all at once. The rain then picked up and converged into hail. We moved more quickly and covered up Evie. The marble-sized hail stung my exposed toes (I insisted on wearing my Chacos despite the weather) and we took shelter in the visitor center. We and the park rangers on duty watched the hail out the window. The rangers were stunned and told us we were so lucky to be there in the rain. I squinted my eyes and told them we were from Seattle. They laughed and told us it hadn’t rained a drop since October, seven months ago.

It hailed and rained a bit longer while we ran to the car and snaked up to Jerome, an old ghost town perched on a 30 degree slope at 5200 feet. The town looks much like it did when it was a booming copper mining town with its wooden storefronts and rough exterior. It once boasted a population of over 10,000 people before the depression of the 1930’s. A hardy group of 50-100 stuck it out after the mine closed in the 1950’s. It regained popularity in the last 30 years and is now touted as a tourist destination and art community. We wandered around the old mine while Evie had her morning snacks.

Our next destination was Montezuma Castle. The impressive cliff dwellings were also built by the Sinagua people. It is one of the best preserved dwellings because of the protective alcove it was built in. It’s name is misleading. It didn’t have anything to do with Montezuma and was not a castle. It was more of an apartment complex with many rooms that were accessed by ladders and stood high above Beaver Creek which frequently flooded in monsoon season. When it was designated a National Monument by Theodore Roosevelt in 1906, visitors could climb up and tour the dwellings. Safety became an issue, though, and the ladders were removed to also help preserve the space.

We then headed north again on the highway toward Flagstaff. As we climbed up in elevation it began to snow. It snowed and snowed until we got into town where the sunshine melted it away. We found a nice little restaurant with delicious tacos and I discovered the local Wild Tonic kombucha tea. We also discovered the most adorable Brightside Books next door. I could have stayed there all day perusing the books and chatting with the friendly staff, but alas, we were hoping to make it to the Grand Canyon that day, so we had to keep on our way.

We had time for another adventure, though, so we stopped at Sunset Crater Volcano for a short hike to stretch our legs. The black and red cinder cone is the dormant remnant of the volcano that last erupted around the year 1085. The landscape seems little changed since then. Pumice covers the mountain and lava pillows on the ground below it. The lava beds are extensive and reminiscent of those in Hawaii. It is amazing how little has grown here in the last 1000 years. Another reminder of how harsh the desert climate can be.

The ancient Sinagua people that lived nearby were forced to flee their settlements during the eruption. The lava flows extended to six miles in some places and the area was covered in ash. We passed by a hornito, Spanish for “little oven” on the trail. It was a perfectly circular area, flattened in the middle and ringed by lava rocks. It was a spatter cone formed by lava forced up through a chamber and accumulated on the edges. It was huge and I wondered what it would be like to see it’s formation. The eruption affected the people of the area profoundly. The Navajo people believe this cinder cone and others around the San Francisco Peaks are guardians and protectors. They still come here to give the mountain honor through offerings.

After our otherworldly visit to Sunset Crater, we seemed to enter yet another world as we continued north. The landscape changed abruptly and become quite flat and rusty red. The highway continued in what seemed like a perfectly straight line with nothing around except for an occasional group of cattle. When we turned west we began to climb again into dirt mountains with no trees, only brush. We climbed slowly until we saw a crack in the ground.

If we weren’t on the road just slightly above the Little Colorado River Gorge, we may have never known it was there. We found a pull off and looked down into the canyon below. We could barely see the bottom and it gave me little butterflies in my stomach. The Little Colorado River is the largest of the tributaries of the bigger Colorado, you know, the grand one. We were getting closer.

We drove up and up. We were surrounded by a sea of funny juniper trees. They are not very tall compared to the giants in the northwest and it just felt like we were on top of something. It is hard to describe this feeling. I kept scooching up in my seat like I might be able to see something in the distance. It was dinner time when we finally reached the Desert View campground just inside the boundary of the National Park. We pitched the tent and made some food in the last of the day’s light and warmed ourselves with prickly pear tea I picked up at the Montezuma Castle gift shop. I also got some deep red sugar-coated prickly pear jelly candy which we had for desert. It was delicious.

The temperature dropped quickly with the sunset and we braced ourselves and Evie for a cold night in the tent. I couldn’t get to sleep right away, not just because of the cold and the tea and the candy, but because of the excitement. Here we were, just the shortest distance away from the edge of the Grand Canyon, but we hadn’t even the tiniest glimpse of it yet. I couldn’t wait for my first ever Grand views in the morning. I felt like a kid on Christmas Eve.

Book Club

Animal Dialogues

My worn paperback copy of The Animal Dialogues lives on the “dad” shelf of my living room bookshelves. Most of the spines happen to be black, brown, or gold (dad colors, right?) and have either been given to me from my dad or remind me of him. Some I picked up on our road trip through Alaska ten years ago, others are his old bird identification books, their covers tattered from use. Most are about wildlife, adventure, or nature in some way, books I’ve read and loved and sent him for his birthday or Fathers Day so he could read them too. A simply framed box, given to me on my 28th birthday, holds four sharply cut arrowheads found by my dad or my grandfather and rests on a pile of books in the center of the shelf. A carefully detailed account of when and where each was found tucked behind the casing. Other little items that my dad has passed onto me through the years are carefully placed between the books like one of his high school report cards (his best grade was in Biology) and an old engineer’s handbooks from the 1940’s. My grandfather was a train engineer and I love flipping through the delicate blueprints of steam locomotive systems that fold out of the books. One could learn much about my dad and his interests from this shelf, and consequently, much about myself and the traits I get from him and my grandfather.

So needless to say,  I was thrilled when mountain guide and adventure writer, Charlotte Austin, recommended reading this book and collaborating with her online book club, Adventure Grapes. I first read this book about a decade ago and I could immediately and vividly recall the Raven and Mountain Lion chapters. I was excited to revisit it and since Craig grew up in Arizona and many of his stories are set there, it would pair nicely with an upcoming road trip to his home state. We planned our May book club outing to Icicle Ridge, a nice early season hike near Leavenworth. Laura invited us to camp at her family’s nearby cabin so I brought the whole family- my husband, Evie, and doggie Nali. It’s been awhile since we’ve all been out on an adventure together.

We were greeted at the cabin with hugs and bug spray. I was secretly hoping that we would have some epic wildlife encounters over the weekend and I was encouraged when I spotted a coyote trotting down the railroad tracks next to highway 2 on our drive to the cabin. BUT, as the saying goes, be careful what you wish for. We did have an epic encounter with an animal highlighted in the book. Unfortunately, it was with a less desirable species: the mosquito. I played it cool for awhile and nonchalantly swatted the bugs while I listened intently to my friends, concentrating on making eye contact and nodding in agreement, uh-huh (slap, slap). This lasted a little while until I couldn’t take it anymore. I  jumped up and really sprayed myself with bug spray this time, hovering the bottle for a long time over my limbs and head. I felt like Craig’s friend who had gone crazy from the mosquitoes in Alaska. We had been at the cabin for approximately 30 minutes. Ugh.

Laura and I and some others who had arrived decided to take refuge in the car and head over to Lake Wenatchee for a short hike while the sun was beginning to set. We lingered along the shoreline, basking in the fresh and bug-free air until we got too hungry and headed back to the cabin for dinner. As we drove, it started unexpectedly raining. Then it rained harder. Our husbands had stayed behind to keep a fire going and we found them huddled on the porch out of the rain. The fire still burned and they found round pieces of bark to place on the fire grate that made perfect little houses to cook our sausages. The rain dispersed the bugs, the porch kept us dry, and we ate via lantern light as we told our own scary wildlife encounters. This was after hearing the news that someone had been killed by a mountain lion that morning in an area where we all regularly hike. It was the first fatal attack by a mountain lion in Washington in nearly 100 years. Sadly, the victim had done everything they were supposed to do. It was a sobering reminder that we too have a place in nature’s food chain.

The next morning we headed to Leavenworth to fuel up on caffeine at the adorable Argonaut Espresso Bar. We met the rest of our group at the Icicle Ridge trailhead and headed up the trail through a thick stand of green maples. The lushness soon gave way to the typical dusty trail lined by ponderosa pine, lupine, and balsamroot (that magical combination again!). It was warm and getting hotter by the minute on the exposed trail. But the views of the Icicle Valley and the Wenatchee River below were getting better and better. I slogged up the switchbacks, happy to have time to clear my mind. That’s the thing about hiking, you don’t have to make many decisions. You just follow the trail. I thought of the part in the book when Craig yearns to be an animal with no plans, no quarrels, just sticks and stones.

It is the wish to be an animal again, to have the eyes that I have lost. No presuppositions. Just sticks and stones. I want something that is gone, something unacceptable, irrational. Where it is known when to sleep, where to seek food, which direction to turn. Where it is understood, without quarrel or reason. I want to lose my fingers and plans and I want to fly.

We gathered at the top of the ridge in the shade and lingered a while. We marveled at our new view of the Wenatchee River raging through Tumwater Canyon, a stark contrast to the lazy version flowing through town. Waterfalls blazed white on the far reaches of the ridge and carved their way down to the river in impressive ribbons. We all agreed that it seemed early for the amount of snow melt happening already this year. We walked along the ridge through balsamroot to the overlook, Leavenworth spread out below, and asked someone to take our picture. We had sunglasses and hats on, full of mosquito bites and sweat. Ah, it felt like summer.

I wanted to share the discussion questions I came up with for Adventure Grapes, you can see them here. I would love to hear your thoughts on the book. It is one of my favorites and brings up so may fascinating questions about our relationship with wild animals. We can’t possibly know what goes on in an animal’s mind, but I know that we are not the first animals to think, remember, love, and see beauty and we should treat them accordingly. As Robin Wall Kimmerer says in her book, Braiding Sweetgrass, we have so much to learn from these species who have been on the earth much longer than us.

The life of an animal lies outside of conjecture. It is far beyond the scientific papers and the campfire stories. It is as true as breath. It is important as the words of children.

 

The Animal Dialogues by Craig Childs

 

Book Ends