Book Club

The Long Path to Wisdom

In August we celebrated our beloved book club member, Mala, and her Burmese heritage. Mala first joined the book club at our camping outing last July at Mount Rainier. We had just met her but she immediately took over Laura’s camp cooking and took care of us like we were her own. If you know Mala, you know that she is up for anything and will take on any challenge that we plan for the book club. But mostly you will know her for her endless compassion and gratitude.

We chose to read The Long Path to Wisdom, a book of collected fairy tales set in Burma and spent the day at Laura’s cabin. We started, though, with a leisurely walk around Gold Creek Pond. The first thing we noticed was an abundance of goldenrod, the rich color of turmeric. The clear pond reflected the blue of the sky and the surrounding mountains.

We returned to the cabin and got a firsthand lesson of Burma from Mala. She showed us some videos of her favorite places to visit including the natural wonder of Golden Rock, a huge boulder perched on the precipice of a cliff. A tiny golden pagoda was built on top in some kind of unimaginable feat.

In true Mala fashion, we feasted on Burmese food that she made for us. The first was an “everything” salad, where pretty much anything is chopped up into tiny pieces and mixed with delicious spices and a little fish sauce. The base is caramelized onions which filled the cabin with a comforting smell and cilantro and turmeric brightened it up. Delicious!

Next we talked about the folk tales in the book while savoring our next course of Burmese chicken noodle soup. The stories in the book felt familiar, similar to stories we’ve heard growing up like Cinderella, Paul Bunyan and even biblical stories like Noah’s flood and David vs Goliath. But these stories featured elephants, monkeys, tigers, and Banyan trees. The author points out though, that though the characters may be different, these stories carry the same themes of folk tales from around the world: Love. Faith. Greed. Trust. Betrayal. Forgiveness

One thing is certain: The following pages represent a journey into another world, a world sometimes alien, sometimes quite familiar. As authors we have learned from this project that – all cultural and historical differences aside, all exoticism and foreigness notwithstanding – there is much more binding people of the world together than keeping them apart.

Jan-Philipp Senker, The Long Path to Wisdom (Preface)

Laura, Mala and I read our favorite stories out loud. Mala told us about growing up in Burma. She recalled her mother making special food for the monks as they would come around for their alms. She told us how the Burmese people are very superstitious and find meaning in everything, including the day of the week you were born. She even had a book to look up what day of the week you were born on. We patiently waited for her to tell us which animal we were and what it meant.

I have to say that when I started the book club I never imagined doing something like this. It was so much fun to learn about Mala’s cultural upbringing and to get a little slice of her life. I am so proud of our group and their willingness to read and learn and be open and welcoming to everyone. I feel so lucky to have these women in my life.

The Long Path to Wisdom by Jan-Philipp Sendker

Book Ends

Book Club Archive

Outdoor Life

Morels & Gold Creek Pond

Early in the summer, Evie, my husband and I got to spend the weekend with my pals Laura and Ingunn and their families too. We met at Laura’s cabin near Snoqualmie Pass and huddled around a map that felt very much like a treasure map. We were looking for treasure of the fungi variety. We picked a spot, made a plan, geared up and headed out.

Evie was so excited to hang out with her mushroom-hunting friends for her first foray. They started out great- identifying mushrooms, pointing to them and yelling. It was effective in getting our attention, but the identification skills were a bit lacking, at least for Evie. None of the mushrooms she found were edible and a few pine cones even found there way in there.

We split up and worked our way through the woods. We found areas of disturbance that seemed ripe for morels, but we didn’t have any luck. Finally, as we all met back on the forest road, I spotted one right next to the road on an old leaf pile. Then we found another. It seemed that the best place to look was not deep in the woods, but rather in the unlikeliest spot. We scrounged up a handful along the way. Not enough for a feast, but perhaps enough for a fancy snack.

On the way back down the mountain we stopped to frolic in lupine and balsamroot and to try our luck at more morel spotting. We didn’t add to our stash but we did find an animal skull. We all gathered around it for inspection. Our best guess was that it was a fox skull. We left it on top of a tree stump like a sort of talisman and hoped for better luck next time.

Back at the cabin we settled in around the campfire for s’mores and stick bread. I set up our gatherings to take some photos and I found, of all things, a perfect little morel under the wooden bench. Of course this spurred a thorough search of the area for more, but there was only one.

My husband couldn’t stay the night, and the next day the group headed out farther for another foray (I later learned that they found lots more morels). I decided to head home with Evie and Nali instead and on the way stopped for a walk around Gold Creek Pond. I had high hopes that Evie could even walk the whole one mile on her own.

To my utter delight, she did! I’ll admit that I shamelessly bribed her with a “special treat” if she walked the whole way. It totally worked. On the way home we stopped for a strawberry milkshake to share. It was the first trail she hiked all on her own, her first strawberry shake, and her first mushroom foray. A special weekend for sure!

The Way Through the Woods by Long Litt Woon

Long Litt Woon moved to Norway from her home in Malaysia at age 18 for school. There she met her Norwegian husband and settled down. But when her husband dies suddenly in an accident, she looks for something to fill the newly opened gap in her life. She devotes herself to mushrooms by learning everything she can about them. She joined mushroom societies and became an expert in edible mushroom hunting. There is a huge culture of mushroom hunting in Norway and I learned so much about mushrooms from this book. Ultimately, Long seeks a distraction from her loss but she ends up gaining a supportive community along the way.

Outdoor Life

Return to Twin Falls

There was the time before my dad got sick and the time after he got sick. My dad was in the hospital two thousand miles away while I drove Evie and myself down I-5 through downtown Seattle. The sky was clear and blue, but something felt wrong. I panicked a little. I searched the skyline for something that was missing. Did the city always look so small and brown? It seemed that everything was dull and diminished, like someone turned the saturation down and zoomed out on my world.

A few days earlier I got word that my dad was in the ICU on a breathing machine. It wasn’t the first time. Three months earlier he had collapsed from a heart attack and lack of oxygen on Christmas Eve. He was sent home with a portable oxygen tank and some medications and seemed to be doing better in the new year. My sisters and I planned a big family trip to Cape May in March. Dad said it would be too cold to go to the beach, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to wait any longer to see him. I felt terribly guilty for not being there on Christmas and the miles between us were palpable. It felt like there was a rubber band between us, stretched as far as it could go.

So I drove on to an old favorite trail in the foothills outside of Seattle, the one I took Evie on for her first hike ever. With all that was going on with my dad, I needed to be on the trails. I was also hoping that maybe Evie could walk it herself this time. We started at the icy trailhead and Evie immediately wanted me to carry her. So much for my plans. With a two year old I am getting very accustomed to a change in plans. I shrugged it off and happily carried her up to the falls.

Once we were at the upper falls, she was ready to walk. She put on her backpack and marched right up the icy stairs. Brave girl. When I managed to get her to stop and turn around, she hesitated, perhaps realizing just how far up she was on the slick ice. I recognized this reaction. The ‘oh crap’ feeling when you realize how steep the terrain is after turning around and looking down. I scooped her up and brought her back down, steady on the ice with my yaktrax.

After that taste of danger, she wanted more. She insisted on walking down the trail, forcing me to do a half hunch while holding both of her hands as she walked, and slid, down the trail. My back wouldn’t be the same for a week. We detoured down to the lower falls viewpoint and she got down all the stairs on her own while holding onto the lower wooden railing proclaiming, “it’s my size!” As she climbed back up we counted the stairs – 104! I was a proud mama.

On the way back down the trail we stopped for a closer look at the South Fork Snoqualmie. We played Evie’s favorite game of picking up rocks and throwing them into the water. I picked up the biggest rock I could handle and underhanded it with two hands between my legs as high as I could. We giggled and I taught her the word “kerplunk!”

On the drive home I called my dad and reported the impressive number of stairs that Evie climbed on her own. I called him everyday while he was in the hospital, usually during my commute home from work. He was always upbeat while we talked and after a few days he sounded much improved. But then suddenly he started getting worse. It was beginning to look like I would have another change in plans. Instead of a family vacation at the beach, we would all be heading back home to the hospital.

Book Club

A Winter Russian Fairy Tale

It’s become a favorite tradition to start off the new year with an Alpine Trails Book Club snowshoe to Laura’s cabin. My husband and I packed up Evie and doggie Nali for a cozy weekend. You have to snowshoe to the cabin in the winter, so our things were packed up in a sled with Evie, including a ten-layered cake topped with a large soup pot for protection (more about that later). Evie was skeptical about the snow but we showed her how to build a snowman and she was content enough to allow us to pull her to the cabin in the sled like a princess.

Our January book club selection was The Bear and the Nightingale, a retelling of an old fairytale set in the medieval Russian wilderness. The book revolves around a young girl named Vasya and starts off with her family telling ancient stories of the evil Frost King while safely cozied up around the fire and eating honey cakes. Soon you find out that there is more to these stories as it is revealed that Vasya can see fairies and demons. and the lines between good and evil quickly become blurred. Vasya gives offerings to the docile demons who protect her home and bring warmth, a tradition that was passed down from her mother.

The winter half of the house boasted huge ovens and small, high windows. A perpetual smoke trickled from its chimneys, and at the first hard freeze, [Vasya’s father] fitted its window-frames with slabs of ice, to block the cold but let in the light. Now firelight from his wife’s room threw a flickering bar of gold on the snow.

– The Bear and the Nightingale

The warmth of the cabin and the wood-burning stove greeted us as though Laura and her family have been giving offerings to the cheryti, or house demons, all winter. We got settled in and drank warm beverages and caught up before heading out again for some snowshoeing and exploring. A few other members came up early to spend the night with us and we filled the cabin with delicious food, games, and laughter.

The next morning we bundled up and headed to the trailhead to meet the rest of the book club. We had our largest group yet and many were eager to snowshoe for the first time. Unfortunately, there was not much fresh snow on the trail and you could easily go without snowshoes, but a few tried it out anyway. We hiked the short trail to Gold Creek Pond and took a loop trail around to get a better vantage of the reflections of the mountains in the calm water. A low wintry fog clung to the mountains and just a frosting of snow outlined the trees.

From the pond we took the trail to Laura’s cabin where we warmed up on coffee, tea, and lots and lots of food. Rebecca brought some lovely Russian tea cakes, white as snowballs, and Kirstin brought some delicious hearty scones. Laura made her usual Finnish Pulla bread (a book club favorite) and I made some mushroom soup, meatballs, and my favorite golden chai lattes. We feasted for a while, discussed the book, and Amelia even made a sweet little painting of the cabin while we chatted. Cindy graciously gifted some snowdrop bulbs to me. These flowers play an important role in the book and I will cherish them as a harbinger of spring.

In the forest. Snowdrops. The old oak before dawn.

– The Bear and the Nightingale

One of my favorite parts of the book is that the author came up with her own interpretation of Russian words and names to include in the book. In the back of the book is a glossary with the names and words and where they come from. We played a game where I wrote down the words and held them up to hear how the group pronounced them. We tried out batyushka (priest), dvorovoi (yard demon or protector), Lesnaya Zemlya (Vasya’s hometown), and podsnezhnik (snowdrop), just to name a few.

Before leaving the cabin we had one last thing to do. It was Lainey’s birthday and we celebrated with a massive Russian Honey Cake. After reading about the honey cakes in the beginning of the book, I thought it would be fun to make them. I imagined a simple recipe of flour and honey shaped into rounds. However, when I started doing some research, I found that the Russian Honey Cake is actually a more modern cake that is popular in Russia and eastern Europe. It is also quite the opposite of simple. It is a delectable ten layer cake with a dulce de leche based cream between each layer. And while this complicated cake was certainly not made by people in Vasya’s time, it seemed like a cake worthy of celebrating the book club and most importantly, our good friend Lainey. I challenged my husband to make it for us (he’s never one to refuse a baking challenge) and after a week of prepping and baking each layer and burning honey to perfection, we had a Russian Honey Cake! The hard work paid off and it was quite delicious.

The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden

Book Ends

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

We Hike To Heal

We watched them take off, one by one. Air filled the thin sheets of fabric transforming them into birds. A group of mostly strangers, we collectively held our breath as the paragliders ran off the side of the mountain, into the unknown.

It was March 30th, and women all over the world were taking to the trails for the 2018 #wehiketoheal empowerment and wellness campaign. Our local WA grassroots branch of the Outdoor Women’s Alliance held a group hike to Poo Poo Point, a popular paragliding location near Seattle, to participate in the movement. I think it’s safe to say that it was a powerful, moving, and ultimately healing event for our little group. It’s wonderful to know that we shared this experience with so many others at the same time. I soaked up inspiration from these women and had so many great takeaways. Here are a few.

Give Yourself Permission

We started the hike by setting an intention. We literally wrote permission slips to ourselves allowing us to enjoy our hike with no judgement of ourselves, to be at peace, to breathe, and to be in the moment. The words in my head along with the stress of week gathered on the page and stayed there. I put it all in my pocket, and out of my head, for the day.

 

Sometimes You Just Have to Jump

While we watched the paragliders run down a small strip of turf that disappeared into the sky, I noticed how they ran without hesitation, without turning back. I imagine they don’t think about what they are doing too much as they run. Just commit and go. One foot after the other. We discovered in our group discussion that we often find more success in accomplishing goals this way. There is something about just going for it and not having a plan with expectations, that is freeing. One woman in our group lost nearly 100 pounds by simply deciding to go for a hike to Wallace Falls one day. She let go of the voices in her head telling her she couldn’t do it and she just went for it, one step at a time. Once she proved to herself that she could do it, she was unstoppable. After just a few years of being on this journey, she has hiked all over and is now training to climb Mount Rainier. We are capable of so much more than we know.

Embrace Your Vulnerability

I wasn’t surprised that Brene Brown came up a lot during our hike and discussion. And for good reason. We reminded ourselves that its okay to be vulnerable. Its okay to ask for help. It’s okay to let go of perfection. We reminded ourselves to watch our self talk. Would you talk to your best friend the way you talk to yourself? Keep it in perspective. All things that Brene Brown tells us, all things we should tell ourselves everyday.

 

The Outdoors is the Great Equalizer

The cedars don’t care if you’re pretty or skinny. The granite doesn’t care about your political or religious views. The lupine don’t want to hear about your job and accomplishments. The sky doesn’t care about the color of your skin. In the outdoors, we are all equal. This is why the outdoors is so healing. It is elemental to our being. In the outdoors we are free of everyday distractions, phones, media. We can simply be.

Healing is a Journey

Our hike leader, Bethany, is a self-described Loss Momma. She lost her daughter on the day she was born to a terminal condition. She is passionate about the outdoors and finds healing in the forests and mountains. I admire the crap out of her and her ability to share her story so generously and openly, simply so that others may know that they are not alone. Remember that everyone you see on the trails, everyone in the perfect Instagram photos, every woman on the cover of a magazine, has their struggles. We all have struggles. You are not alone.

Learn more about Bethany and her journey of healing on her blog All The Passion Strings. She also runs a Facebook group called Hiking to Heal.

 

Nature, Love, Medicine: Essays on Wildness and Wellness

This compilation of essays written by an intriguing group of writers, artists and scientists, pulls together insightful thoughts and theories on the healing powers of nature. Robin Wall Kimmerer, a botanist with Native American heritage, writes about the literal healing properties of medicinal plants while Lauret Savoy writes about going to the mountains to escape the racism of the city. Some speak of spending time in the outdoors as a means of physical healing, others speak to ways that we can return the favor and heal the Earth. All of the essays speak to a deeper sense of being and belonging in the natural world.

Book Club

The Messy Business of Reclamation

This month we hiked along a river reclaimed. Just a few decades ago, the Middle Fork Snoqualmie River was a dumping ground for all things expensive to dispose of: old campers, cars, trucks, construction materials, appliances, tires, etc. That changed when a community-wide effort launched to clean up the area and restore it to its natural state in the late 1990’s. A coalition of volunteers spent years cleaning up the valley and looking out into the crystal clear water today, you would have no idea of its storied past.

It’s hard to argue that these extraordinary efforts were not worthwhile. But, as we learned in our March book selection, Reclaimers, reclamation is not always so black and white as good or bad, beneficial or detrimental. Even the definition of the word is not entirely clear and seemingly contradictory.

Reclaim:

1. to recall from wrong or improper conduct

2. to rescue from an undesirable state; also: to restore to a previous natural state <reclaim mining sites> b: to make available for human use by changing natural conditions <reclaim swampland>

How can reclamation mean both restoring to a natural state and to make available for human use at the same time? And what does improper conduct and undesirable state really mean? Ana Maria Spagna went looking for these answers by traveling back and forth, up and down the west coast from Seattle to northern California in her aging Buick. She met some incredible people (mostly women) who were fighting long, hard battles to reclaim just a little bit of land that nourished their people for thousands of years. These were the Timbisha Shoshone whose ancestral land was in the middle of Death Valley National Park, and the Mountain Maidu who reclaimed the sacred Humbug Valley near Mt Shasta from a large energy company.

Where is the moral high ground? And who decides? Judgments cycle. Fire is bad, fire is good. Predators are bad, predators are good. And with the judgments, so go our actions: Put out fires, start prescribed fires. Eliminate predators, reintroduce predators. Like Sisyphus on a hamster wheel.

Much of the book is also focused on rivers and dams. Recently, there has been much effort taken to remove dams that are not useful or are harmful to fish, such as on the White Salmon river and the Elwha River. But is it always best to remove the dams? My gut reaction is to say yes, but as I learned from this book, the best solution is far from clear. Ana describes this dilemma as hammering a nail into a tree and then pulling it out. The hole is still there. With dam removal comes careful monitoring to get the right amount of sediment and the proper reintroduction of fish. There is so much focus and energy spent on how to perfect the conditions to return to some original state. Is it possible to think we could just make the dams better for fish?

…the lesson I kept relearning about reclaiming is that it’s not about what we’ve lost, how to retrieve or re-create it, but how best to move forward.

It’s not about what we’ve lost, but how best to move forward. This quote is what will stick with me most from the book. We must get away from the ideals of “returning” land to untouched, pristine wilderness. These romantic notions are naive and it devalues the contributions and knowledge of the Native American people. Rather, we should learn from them and take note of their traditional land management practices that sustained people for thousands of years without depleting or destroying natural resources. And then, with much debate and thought, maybe we can work together to find better solutions.

I would love to hear your thoughts about the book and the idea of reclamation. Have you, like me, struggled to find a balanced opinion regarding these issues? Do you agree with Ana’s conclusions in the book?

 

Reclaimers by Ana Maria Spagna

 

Book Ends

Book Club

Hygge Snowshoe

We kicked off the Alpine Trails Book Club 2018 season with the coziest of all book club meetups. The day started with a snowshoe to Gold Creek Pond where we encountered a nice little blizzard. Big, heavy flakes covered our hoods and packs and blew sideways across the lake, obscuring the mountain views. Tree limbs glowed white against the dark of dense forest and the blue depths of the pond provided the only color besides our rainbow of puffy jackets and packs. We all smiled with glee, snowflakes on our noses and lashes as we kept moving to stay warm.

Our co-leader Laura was gracious enough to invite us to her family’s adorable A-frame cabin for lunch. We ended up arriving early so we munched on Scandinavian inspired snacks like cheese and smoked salmon, Pulla (a braided cardamom bread) and sipped hot tea. We made ourselves comfy and sat in front of the wood stove to discuss the book and hygge.

The best way I can think of to describe hygge is to tell you about one of my favorite memories growing up in Pennsylvania. I loved when it snowed and my sisters and I would sled all day and then make hot chocolate (the Swiss Miss kind that comes in a packet with the little itty bitty marshmallows) and buttered toast (with good old-fashioned white bread). We would turn the light on outside the sliding glass door, dip our toast in the cocoa, and watch the snow fall. I still crave hot chocolate and toast when it snows. That feeling of warmth, love, and safety is the essence of hygge.

Meik Wiking lays out his Hygge Manifesto in our January book selection, The Little Book of Hygge. These 10 pillars just so happen to align perfectly with the goals of our book club. Here they are, slightly altered into the Alpine Trails Book Club Manifesto:

Atmosphere: Surround yourself with beauty
Presence: Be here now
Pleasure: Enjoy a treat without guilt
Equality: Everyone has a voice
Gratitude: Take it all in
Harmony: It’s not a competition, we already like you
Comfort: Take a break to relax
Truce: No drama, no politics
Togetherness: Build relationships
Shelter: This is your place of security

We spent hours sitting in the warmth of the cabin chatting and getting to know each other. We ate some more; pumpkin soup, spicy cranberry meatballs, and chocolate cake before heading back out into the snow. It was a lovely day that encompassed all aspects of hygge, and the intentions of our book club. We started the day as mostly strangers and ended as friends.

The Little Book of Hygge by Meik Wiking

 

Book Ends

Outdoor Life

Evie’s First Hike

Since the day I found out I was pregnant, I’ve been thinking about baby’s first hike. Of all the firsts that she will have in this life, I was most excited for this one. I wanted it to be special, but as three months passed with never ending rain and as the realities of parenthood setting in, I realized we would just have to go out and do it.

Drink in the beauty and wonder at the meaning of what you see.

So we did it. I packed her up and off we went on a beautiful Sunday afternoon to Twin Falls. This easy, often crowded, short hike was one of the first hikes my husband and I did in Seattle and I’ve been there many times since. Usually the crowds would keep me away on a sunny weekend but it didn’t bother me now. Evie and I were in our own little bliss bubble and I was actually quite happy to see a great diversity of hikers and lots and lots of families on the trail. 

We headed down the trail and I took it all in with new eyes. Not only was it Evie’s first hike, but it was also my first hike in a long time. I took a deep breath and soaked it up. Evie was awake and alert and doing what she loves to do in her ergo carrier- push her head back as far as she can so she can look at everything. She is the most curious baby and loves looking at new things.

I think about what it must look like to her, it is all just a blur of sky and shapes? Does she know that what she hears is a river rushing by? Will she recognize the smell of mud and skunk cabbage next time? There is something magical in knowing that this is the first time she has really looked at an old growth cedar and a sword fern and a waterfall. 

There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature- the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after the winter.

I want to point out everything to her and tell her the names of the plants and trees. But as Rachel Carson writes in The Sense of Wonder, we should give up the impulse to teach and explain and let our children explore with feelings and emotions. This will be a challenge for me, I want to teach her everything I know as soon as possible! But I must remember to allow her to discover things on her own.

 

It is not half so important to know as to feel.

So instead I make up a song to sing on the way down the trail as I see her eyes getting drowsy. ‘What goes up, must come down. Down, down, down. Down, down, down. What goes up, must come down, down to the river.’

Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts.


 

The Sense of Wonder by Rachel Carson

The legendary environmentalist Rachel Carson wrote this essay in 1956 about spending time on the coast of Maine with her nephew. Her lessons hold up decades later as she gives advice on how to introduce children to nature and spark a sense of wonder. She says that we should rediscover our own sense of wonder and help them discover the joy, excitement and mystery of the world we live in. The edition we have that was gifted to us is a beautiful hardback full of lovely photographs to accompany Carson’s lyrical words.

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Outdoor Life

Hiking History: Franklin Falls

Winter is a great time to visit this popular waterfall. The snow gives everything charm, especially the cabins along the creek topped with a thick layer of icing-like snow. The normally two mile hike is extended down the forest road about a mile making it more of a worthwhile destination for the day. It is, however, still as popular as ever in the winter so get there early to avoid the crowds.

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The trail climbs gently through old growth along Denny Creek. In the summertime, you can walk along the Wagon Road Trail adjacent to the falls trail and see the remnants of the original road that climbed over Snoqualmie Pass. The old wagon road was built in 1867 to promote trade between Seattle and Ellensburg. There were frequent cattle drives on the steep road over the pass and maintenance was understandably difficult. Hiking along here, imagine what it would  have been like traveling in a wagon…

The wagon road continued to be the main passage through the mountains for cattle and goods until the Northern Pacific Railroad was completed in 1887. The railroad provided a much easier way to transport freight and the road fell into disrepair. David Denny, brother of Arthur Denny who is one of the founders of Seattle, took it upon himself to save the road. He repaired the road, laid corduroy, and built bridges. In 1905 the first automobiles would cross over the pass on the road that Denny built.

Later, during the 1909 Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Expedition, an auto race over the pass popularized the route. The state planned to build an official highway called the Sunset Highway that would run from North Bend east to the Idaho border. At its opening in 1915, the highway was hailed as “the first passable route between east and west sides of the mountains.” The new highway replaced the steep wagon road grade with switchbacks and hairpin turns that are now part of the forest road 58. The forest road parallels the trail and crisscrosses the original wagon road trail.

The trail to Franklin Falls has much to offer. It’s got old forest, a babbling creek, history and of course, the beautiful 70-foot falls. My favorite part of our winter trek was the impressive icicles guarding the falls on both sides, hanging from the rock like stalagmites. We walked the forest road down to make it a loop and threw snowballs into the deep snow for Nali to chase. She slept the whole way home. It was a perfect winter day.

More info about the Wagon Road

Hikes featured in this post:
Franklin Falls