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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

Silver Star Mountain

July 2, 2015August 7, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

On July 4, 2013 as I was working on my 30 peaks by 30, I climbed up Silver Star Mountain. It seemed like an appropriate choice for the holiday and I was happy to see that the flowers were in full bloom for the occasion. The hike is not difficult and from the summit you can see Mt Adams and Mt St Helens. But as nice as the summit is, this trail is all about the flowers. Get lost along the many trails that wander this mountain and see how many red, white and blue flowers you can find.

Happy 4th of July!

Hikes Featured in this Post:
Silver Star Mountain

Outdoor Life

Lake Chelan

June 12, 2015August 7, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

Oh, Lake Chelan, you sparkling emerald among mighty peaks, you snake of a sea! Adventure awaits behind your every curve, mystery fills your depths. Your Lady carries us as we crane our necks in wonder. Oh, Lake Chelan, you beauty of a lake, you jewel of a sea, you are the greatest lake, perhaps the greatest that will ever be!

I’ve been intrigued by Lake Chelan since I moved to Seattle in 2006. I heard about tiny isolated places only accessible by boat like Stehekin, Holden Village and Lucerne nestled In the towering North Cascade mountains along a sparkling lake. From there you could access the remote Glacier Peak Wilderness and places like Lyman Lakes, Spider Gap and Image Lake. These distant and hard to reach places are just far enough away from Seattle to be truly remote and I was fascinated by them.

Finally a few years ago we decided to check out Stehekin. The tiny town sits at the northernmost tip of the lake and the only way to get there is to fly or take the ferry boat, Lady of the Lake, fifty miles from the town of Chelan at the southern terminus of the lake. So I booked a couple nights at the historic Campbell’s Resort and reserved our spot on the boat for a day trip to Stehekin.

When we arrived in Chelan in April the weather was beautiful and sunny, a welcome contrast to the spring rainy season in Seattle. I received a notification that there was an issue with the ferry boat and that we would be traveling on the ‘slow’ boat since the ‘fast’ boat had a mechanical issue. I called them and the very nice lady explained that the trip up the lake would take 4 hours each way with only a short layover in Stehekin. She suggested we reschedule the trip (free of charge) and I did so, this time I arranged it for an overnight so that we could backpack the Chelan Lakeshore Trail in May.

Needless to say, we did not suffer in the least by our change of plans. We happily lounged in the pool and visited the local wineries. We hiked up nearby Chelan Butte through the blossoming balsamroot and marveled at the lake and the Columbia River. We drove to Manson and visited more wineries, enjoying the intimate and friendly atmosphere. With the windows rolled down and wine bottles clinking in the trunk, we made our way back to Seattle. We smiled at each other, our pink noses kissed by the sun. We would be back soon.

We returned in late May, this time with our backpacks to hop on the ferry boat. It was the weekend before Memorial Day and I felt very clever as I told my husband that we were totally beating the crowds. I carefully inspected the fellow passengers, trying to determine how many trekkers we would be competing with for camping spots. As we pulled away from the dock I breathed a sigh of relief, I counted only three other groups that were possibly hiking the Lakeshore Trail as well. I was confident that we would outpace them.

After about a half hour the boat slowed as it came upon another dock. My husband and I looked at each other. Huh, must be another pick up spot… As we got closer my eyes grew wide in disbelief. There were at least 30 backpackers on the dock waiting to board. We looked at each other with our jaws dropped as the others packed themselves on the boat. As we scooted to make room I thought so much for having our pick of the campsites.

We waited our turn to debark the boat at the quaint landing at Prince Creek. Even with 30 of our fellow backpackers the place felt remote. As soon as we hit the trail the crowds dispersed and we hardly saw anyone on the whole trip. It’s a 17 mile hike to Stehekin from the drop off point and the trail rises and falls along the shore of the lake. We made our way through lupine and rock-hopped across numerous creek outlets: Rattlesnake, Pioneer, Cascade, Meadow, Fish, Hazard carving their way down the high mountains. We set up camp at the Moore Point campground and lounged on the shore. We built a fire and studied the map excited to continue on to Stehekin the next day.

Civilization began to reappear the following day as we skirted the backyards of cabins and spotted boats anchored offshore. We stopped at the ranger station to learn a bit of history as we moseyed to Stehekin. Sadly, everything was closed for the season including the Stehekin Pastry Company (they would open a week later on Memorial Day) and we didn’t get a chance to go into town since we had to catch the boat. We did manage to get some burgers and beers and ate outside overlooking the water and seaplanes. I sat and took in as much as possible as the boat approached, savoring every mountain peak in sight. Although I was a little disappointed we didn’t get to fully experience the town, I smiled to myself. Once again my lack of good planning turned into an excuse for another trip up Lake Chelan. We will be back soon.

Lake Chelan: The Greatest Lake in the World by John Fahey

Fahey, who spent a good portion of his life on Lake Chelan, goes on a mission to prove that his beloved lake is the greatest lake in the world. Each chapter alternates between his quest around the world, the natural and cultural history of Lake Chelan and his stories from living on the lake. The best part is that it’s laugh-out-loud hilarious. I was so sucked into this book that I stayed up very late one night to read it.

Hikes Featured in this Post:

Chelan Lakeshore Trail

Road Trip

San Juan Island

May 23, 2015July 30, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

The first time I saw the San Juan Islands I was gazing down on them from above. I was in college and the plane was descending into Vancouver, British Columbia where I would spend the week working on airplanes for my summer internship. It was my first time on the west coast and I didn’t know anything about these islands except that they were beautiful from a certain altitude at sunset. I snapped a photo and didn’t think about it until years later after I had moved to Seattle and learned of the islands from a guide book. Last year my dog and I spent a weekend on San Juan Island. It turned out to be a perfect spring getaway destination.

I drove from Seattle in the dark north to Anacortes and boarded the first ferry of the day. The iconic white and green boat chugged through the sunrise snaking around the archipelago comprised of hundreds of islands named by a Spanish explorer in 1791. Faraway mounds of land and second-growth douglas fir rise from the glassy water like the backs of orca whales which frequent these waters of the Salish Sea. The ferry lands at Friday Harbor, the largest town in all of the San Juans. Once a hub for the Hudson Bay Company with an abundance of salmon, it is now a sleepy and charming town of about 2000 residents with a great bookstore, Griffin Bay Bookstore, a whale museum and a tavern or two.

In the 1850’s as the boundary between the US and Great Britain was disputed, the two countries both occupied San Juan Island. The British set up camp on the northwest side and the US on the opposite southeast side. The dispute spawned the famous “pig war”, an international incident started when an American shot and killed a Hudson Bay pig when it was found rummaging through his garden. When the British threatened to arrest the man and evict all American settlers off the island, a backup army of 64 Americans was sent to the island. For months each side built up it’s military threat with battleships and all until the news finally reached Washington and common sense prevailed. The two countries would not go to war over a pig and ultimately 12 years after the border dispute, a treaty was signed by the US and Great Britain and the boundary was settled by a third party; Kaiser Wilhelm I of Germany, who decided the island belonged to the US.

We started our island exploration at English Camp. We first climbed above English Camp through the forest to the top of Young Hill. A short spur leads to an old cemetery surrounded by a white picket fence and purple shooting stars. The trail continues on to the summit of the hill with great views of the islands. Back at the trailhead we then headed toward English Camp still partly intact with barracks, a hospital and storehouse. Apple trees were just finishing their radiant white bloom as we headed toward a small loop trail to Bell Point. The San Juan Islands, located in the rain shadow of the Olympic Mountains has a sunnier and dryer climate than Seattle. This climate is perfect for growing apples and the island was once covered with orchards and known as Washington’s apple capital. Later Eastern Washington would claim this title when irrigation was introduced to it’s arid land.

From English Camp we headed south along the western shores of the island to Lime Kiln Point State Park. A lovely lighthouse keeps watch over the waters that frequent ships and whales. We wandered and had lunch along the shoreline in the sunshine and greeted other tourists. We then moseyed our way to the southern tip of the island, to my favorite part: Mt Finlayson, Cattle Point and American Camp.

Wide open views and tall golden grass welcomed us on this very different part of the island. Deer grazed along the flanks of Mt Finlayson while Nali and I were scorched by the sun on the open trail. We squinted out to the lighthouse at Cattle Point then later drove down to it for a closer look and then continued on to American Camp. The camp is perched on a bluff overlooking the sea and the Olympic Mountains. This was the perfect place to end our wonderful trip with the culmination of history, prairie and lovely views.

More information about San Juan Island:

San Juan Island Trails Committee (with excellent trail maps!)

San Juan Island National Historic Park (English & American Camps)

San Juan Island Camping Information

Time Shadows and Tall Tales by Jack J. Crawford

Jack Crawford was a resident of Friday Harbor before he passed away in 2000 at the age of 78. The goal he had for this book was to collect the history and stories told about the island before the memories were gone. He succeeded in creating a fun and engaging read, not just about the historical importance of the island but also about what it was like to live on the island in the days before it became the touristy place it is now. We are lucky to have these stories, whether truthful tales or lore, as they are a delight to read.

Hikes Featured in this Post:

Young Hill and Bell Point

Lime Kiln State Park

Mt Finlayson

Cattle Point Lighthouse

Outdoor Life

A Foraged Meal

May 1, 2015July 26, 2019
by Ashley Gossens

There is something so satisfying about foraging a meal. Putting in the extra effort to pick or catch dinner makes the food that much more special and delicious. Whether it’s the first ever salmon catch, a traditional family crab feast or some nibbles of miners lettuce while hiking on a trail, there’s a bounty of plentiful cuisine in the Pacific Northwest to savor and share. Recently my husband and I tried our own hand at foraging for some new things. We were willingly forced to slow down, really notice our surroundings and get our hands dirty.

Appetizer: Nettle Cream Soup
Nettles are pretty much the worst. Just a small brush up against the stinging plant will leave you in pain for a few hours. After picking these nettles my husband and I both had severe stings that persisted through the next day. We need thicker gloves. But this off-putting plant is secretly a plant of many uses. They are used to remedy ails such as arthritis, allergies and ironically, skin irritation. Fibers from the plant can be used to make clothing which most famously was used by the Germans during WW2 as a substitution for cotton. The key to harnessing the nettle is cooking it. The chemical cocktail that is injected into us when we touch it is leached out into the deep green water. Nettles can be used as a cooked spinach substitute and makes a great pesto or soup like this one. There are many simpler recipes for this soup but I figured if we go through all the trouble to pick the stuff we might as well make a fancy soup. The nettle puree is a radiant shade of green that turns the soup a lovely minty color.

Recipe: (adapted from Food & Wine Magazine)
(serves 4)

6 tablespoons butter
4 shallots, chopped
4 celery sticks, chopped
1 leek, cut lengthwise and thinly sliced
3 medium yukon gold potatoes, cut in 1/4″ cubes
1/4 cup white wine
1 tablespoon lemon juice
4 cups water
1 teaspoon tarragon
1 teaspoon thyme
1 bay leaf
1/3 cup heavy cream
creme freshe or sour cream
salt & pepper

Using gloves, soak nettles in water and rinse under running water to remove bugs and debris. Bring a pot of water to boil and add the strained nettles. Cook until just wilted, about 3 minutes. Remove nettles from heat, strain and put into ice water. Strain and put nettles into blender or food processor and puree. Add water if needed. Set puree aside.
Melt 4 tablespoons butter in large saucepan. Add shallots, celery, leek and potatoes, cover and cook over low heat. Stir occasionally until softened, approximately 8 minutes. Add wine and lemon juice and cook on high until evaporated. Add water, tarragon, thyme and bay leaf and bring to a simmer. Cover and cook on low to medium heat until veggies are tender, approximately 15 minutes. Use an immersion blender to blend the soup, or working in batches, carefully blend the soup in a blender or food processor. Strain the soup into a clean saucepan through a sieve. Stir in the heavy cream.
Warm the soup on the stove by bringing it to a simmer over low heat. Add the remaining 2 tablespoons butter and strain in the nettle puree. Add salt and pepper to taste. Serve with a dollop of creme freshe or sour cream.

Main Course: Steamed Varnish Clams & Cockles
I never really thought about all the life that lives below the sandy beaches. I knew that there were shellfish down there just waiting to be cooked up for dinner, but I never knew how much fun it is to dig them up. We conveniently chose a day when the low tide reached it’s lowest at about noon, giving us plenty of time to hop on the ferry and head to Whidbey Island. Bucket and shovels in tow we scoured the beach for small breathing holes indicating where to dig. It was so satisfying to find them and we spent the better part of day collecting and showing off our goods. Our dog Nali had a blast helping us dig in the sand as this is one of her favorite things to do. She even dug up a few clams for us. To dig in Washington you’ll need to purchase a shellfish license and check to see what beaches are open and safe from biotoxins and of course, follow the local rules.

Recipe:
(serves 4)

4 tablespoons butter
4 lbs clams (approx. 1 lb per person)
1/2 onion
2-3 garlic cloves, pressed
1 cup dry white wine
salt & pepper

Scrub clams with hard brush under cold running water. Discard clams with broken or chipped shells. Soak clams in 4 quarts cold water with 1/2 cup salt and a handful of cornmeal for 1/2 hour to 3 hours to purge.
Put onion, garlic, wine, butter and water into large pot and bring to boil ensuring butter is melted. Allow mixture to boil a few minutes and then add the clams.

Dessert: Blueberry Pie
Blueberries are an important year-round staple in our home. Luckily the Cascades are bursting with them in late summer. Every year we spend a couple weekends backpacking in alpine country and stocking up on the delicious blue orbs. A couple years ago my husband got me the best thing ever: a blueberry picker, and my life was changed forever. We restrain ourselves from straight up bringing buckets with us, but we do bring gallon-size ziploc bags to fill until bulging. We freeze them to enjoy all year in Sunday pancakes, muffins, pastries and the occasional pie. My husband, who is totally obsessed with blueberries, only allows me to make mini versions of my favorite pie so as not to use too many of the prized berries. But that’s ok, the mini version is a perfect treat to share while reminiscing about the first time we had this recipe: at our wedding.

Recipe:
(this recipe makes a full size pie – it can be scaled down to make the mini version)

Crust:
2 cup flour
1 cup shortening
1/2 cup water

Filling:
6 cups frozen or 4 cups fresh blueberries
3/4 cup sugar
3 tablespoons flour
1/2 teaspoon lemon peel
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
3-4 Tablespoons butter
dash salt

Cut shortening into flour and add water. Mix to form dough and divide in two. Roll out first dough ball and put into round pie dish. Save remaining dough for top crust.
Combine all ingredients for filling and spoon into pie dish. Squeeze fresh lemon juice and dot with butter.
Roll out remaining dough ball to top the pie. Brush melted butter on top and cut vent holes.
Bake at 400 for 35-40 minutes.

More information on foraging:

NW Foraging Classes, Instructors and Blogs

Ultimate NW Family Clamming Guide

Pacific Feast by Jennifer Hahn

This is the essential book for the Northwest forager. It is mostly a cookbook for foraged finds, complete with recipes from Seattle’s famous restaurant chefs, but it also gives informative snippets for each of the species and stories from Hahn’s foraging adventures. This book covers the forest to the sea including trees, ferns, plants, berries, shellfish, sea vegetables, mushrooms and weeds. Hahn is an avid kayaker and often relies on foraging for her long kayak trips to reduce pack weight. She also teaches foraging classes. Find out more on her website.

Fat of the Land by Langdon Cook

Langdon Cook has a passion for the land and wild food of the Pacific Northwest. His enthusiasm jumps off the page as he tells his stories of foraging through the years. Divided into four sections for each season, each chapter tells a foraging tale of a specific species and finishes with a recipe. He does it all from plunging into the chilly Puget Sound for a giant ling cod, digging for razor clams, and fly fishing with ghosts to picking fiddleheads, mushrooms and dandelions. Cook leads foraging classes and writes for various magazines including Seattle Magazine. He also has a great blog called Fat of the Land where he continues to share his stories.

Road Trip

Skagit Valley

April 2, 2015October 11, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

April means tulips around here. Much like the phenomenon of leafers that drive slowly through New England in the fall to admire the changing leaves, western Washington comes down with a bit of tulip mania this time of year. Seattleites flock 60 miles north to Skagit Valley to gaze upon miles of natural rainbows, the famous tulip fields. And like their counterparts in the northeast they are driving slowly, not to slow down to enjoy the views, but because they are stuck in endless traffic on I-5.

Seattleites are not the first people to fall in love with the colorful bulbous perennials. Tulips were introduced to Europe in the 16th century from Turkey. The intensely colored flowers were like nothing else in Europe and were considered a status symbol. As international trade flourished in the region, tulips became wildly popular, influencing one of the greatest art movements- the era of Dutch still life painting. Between the years of 1634 and 1637 the price of rare tulip bulbs skyrocketed as investors dumped money into tulip futures. But like financial bubbles tend to do, this one burst in 1637. The tulip is still associated with the Netherlands where 4.32 billion bulbs are produced each year.

The state of Washington produces a fraction of that: 200 million tulip bulbs a year, 75 percent of the nation’s tulip crop. The flowers bloom as early as late March through April and later depending on the weather conditions. The Skagit Valley Tulip Festival has been celebrated over the month of April since 1984. Events include street fairs, salmon barbecues and fun runs. Roozengaarde and Tulip Town are the growers to visit. My favorite is Roozengaarde with its smaller specialized gardens featuring rare varieties. Admission to the gardens is $5 and they open at 9am. You can also enjoy the fields without spending a dime. Just wander on the back roads until you run into the tulip fields, or check out the Bloom Map to see which fields are currently blooming.

You could easily spend an entire weekend or more exploring the tulip fields and gardens and the nearby towns of La Conner and Mt Vernon. It’s also a great area to bike as the valley is flat and the fields spread out throughout the valley. However, I like to just spend a couple hours tiptoeing in the tulips, arriving right when they open thus avoiding the crowds and leaving the rest of the day for nearby exploring. I usually head east and spend the rest of the day at Deception Pass State Park or wander slowly south on the back roads through the farmland that reminds me of rural Pennsylvania where I grew up. The area is also a great place for bird watching as many migratory birds make their way through the area.

More about the Skagit Valley:

Skagit Valley Tulip Festival

Bird Watching in the Skagit Valley

Outdoor Life

Mount St Helens Climb

February 25, 2015August 7, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

I awoke at 4am to the hooting of an owl. I was snuggled in my sleeping bag in our tent at Climber’s Bivouac, a small campsite at the beginning of the Mount St Helens climbing route. The apprehension of the last few days gave way to excitement as I rose and put on my headlamp. From now on the mountain was in charge. I recalled the previous day’s walking through the underground lava tubes of the nearby Ape Caves and reading interpretive signs of the destruction that took place here, pondering the potential of a mountain that could create such things.

I was not yet born when the news broke on May 18, 1980 of a massive eruption in the Pacific Northwest. The volcano was displaying the realities of it’s name, Loowit, meaning “smoking” or “fire” mountain by the Klickitat people. A landslide triggered by the explosive blast sent two-thirds of a cubic mile of mountain top hurtling into the valleys below. A mushroom cloud of ash towered above as hot mud and debris flowed downward, taking with it the living things in its way. In all, 57 people were killed, 250 homes and almost 200 miles of highway were destroyed along with 230 square miles of forest and countless animals. On that day the summit dropped from 9677 feet to 8365 feet and it’s beautiful cone replaced with a mile wide crater.

As the sun began to rise my husband and I climbed above treeline. The forest we passed through was not only recovering but thriving in the thirty years since the blast, surprising scientists who expected this process to be very slow. But as we continued onto the rocky ridge, the moon-like appearance and ash on our boots reminded us that this is still a mighty volcano. The sun beat down on us from the cloudless August sky above and I imagine the unthinkable heat that formed the young rocks around me. We continue straight up the sandy ash, one step forward, two steps back, finally gaining the crater rim.

Standing at the top of the crater rim one cannot deny the fragility of life. Here we are, tiny vulnerable specks on this mass of a mountain. Yet this mighty dome has been weakened, it’s thousand foot top torn away in an instant. To stand on the crumbling rim looking out into the crater is to observe the incomprehensible power of this planet we call home. I am humbled while gazing upon the hardened mudflows of decades ago and the ghostly waterlogged carcasses of 500 year old trees still drifting like toothpicks in eerie Spirit Lake.

But ultimately this story is one of renewal and restoration. Mount St Helens is rejuvenating itself with fresh forest and wilderness, making room for new species of plants and animals to thrive and providing nutrients to the soil of the valleys that nurture our gardens and agriculture. In the decades to come this mountain ecosystem will become more lush and diverse than it was before. This same principle applies to life: change is essential. And it’s how we navigate these times in our lives that make us the people we are. Like the ever changing mountains we must be adaptable and resilient to change. We can choose to resist or we can embrace it and in the process allow ourselves to renew and grow into better people.

Find out more about Mount St Helens:

Climbing and Permit Information

Mount St Helens Institute

Mount St Helens VolcanoCam

National Geographic Gallery

In the Blast Zone edited by Charles Goodrich, Kathleen Dean Moore and Frederick J. Swanson

This post was very much inspired by this wonderful collection of essays and poems about Mt St Helens. In 2005, a group of scientists, writers and poets embarked on a 4-day trip to discuss, observe and ponder the changes happening to the mountain inspiring the writings collected here. I consider this essential reading for anyone considering visiting St Helens for the first time or those who have been visiting it for years.

Hikes Featured in this Post:

Monitor Ridge, Mt St Helens, WA

Ape Caves, Mt St Helens, WA