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Paradise, Mount Rainier

January 17, 2016July 30, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

Here in Seattle we are lucky (or perhaps you could say unlucky) to have a spectacular volcano watching down on us. Mount Rainier is an active stratovolcano about 60 miles from the city and at 14,400 feet holds plenty of snow to explore all year round. But in the winter time the mountain is especially magical.

The road to Paradise, on the southern side of the mountain, is plowed in the winter for your snow-loving pleasure. The wide open meadows beyond the Paradise Inn beg for sledding, skiing, and snowshoeing. If you are lucky you will get spectacular up-close views of the mountain. The weather up here is famously temperamental. Even on a seemingly blue bird day, clouds can form spoiling your mountain views and even cause whiteouts making it essential to always be prepared in this area. But the extra preparation is worth the hassle to spend a day in paradise.

My favorite destination from Paradise is Panorama Point. The way weaves through occasional snow covered trees to Glacier Vista, from here climb steeply along the Nisqually Glacier to fantastic views of Rainier and the surrounding mountains. This is the perfect spot to take a rest and fuel up for the return.

My favorite account of life on Mount Rainier is from Floyd Schmoe’s book A Year in Paradise. The book starts out with Floyd describing his honeymoon. He was encouraging his new wife, Ruth, to continue up the mountain on snowshoes. “Come on dear, it’s just over the next ridge,” he told her, her first time ever on snowshoes. They were not just taking a leisurely jaunt up to Panorama Point, they were breaking trail all the way from Longmire at the base of the mountain to Paradise Inn at 5400 feet!

The year was 1920, long before they plowed the road to Paradise, and Schmoe was assigned to man the inn over the winter. His boss told him, “I predict that if you two kids survive this winter alone in Paradise you will live happily together for the rest of your lives and go to heaven when you die.” Then he told him that the inn was covered in 30 feet of snow, and each of its rooms were in complete darkness!

The young couple made the best of their time at the inn. They explored the area on snowshoes in the morning looking for prints in the fresh snow and putting together the stories of the winter wildlife. They dug tunnels in the snow to the windows of the living room to bring some light in. Ruth practiced the piano and honed her high-altitude cooking skills by trial and error. Floyd read books and reported the weather daily to the Weather Bureau in Seattle. Soon they determined that Ruth was pregnant and Floyd built a cradle from the local Alaska yellow cedar as Ruth made baby clothing. Finally they began to notice the ptarmigan and rabbits slowly transforming their coats from brilliant white to brown and black. After their long first winter together in Paradise, it was finally spring.

A Year in Paradise by Floyd Schmoe
That winter in Paradise began Schmoe’s long and wide ranging career at Mount Rainier National Park. He was a caretaker and later a mountain guide until he enrolled at the University of Washington and earned a degree in forestry. He then became the first Park Naturalist employed by MRNP. His memoir recounts his memories and experiences in a sort of almanac divided into seasons of the year. His beautiful stories and observations are a must read for anyone who has fallen under the spell of “the mountain.”

Hikes featured in this Post:
Panorama Point Snowshoe

Outdoor Life

A Year of Inspiration

January 7, 2016August 7, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

On New Years Day I went for a hike to Lily Lake. The territory was a bit unfamiliar to me and full of unexpected obstacles. I literally had to dodge clumps of snow falling from the trees above me, and there was much more snow on the trail than I anticipated. It was also more beautiful than expected. The low hanging sun filtered through the trees lighting up the snow in orange. Every branch was topped with a thick layer of snow giving them a magical quality. I felt like I crossed into Narnia. When I reached the lake I found it completely frozen over and I wandered out onto it feeling brave while examining the exquisite jagged crystals of hoar frost that covered everything in sight.

Much like my journey to Lily Lake, my first year of writing and sharing stories on Alpine Lily has been an unexpected adventure. Before I started the blog I was feeling low and stressed out at work. My company was downsizing and my mentors and long time coworkers were leaving while I was left with more work. I was struggling and felt like I was just getting by each day, surviving. This caused a serious case of wanderlust. I counted down the hours to the weekend so that I could escape and get out to explore and replenish my energy. I hiked every weekend and racked up the miles as I checked off the trails off in my guide books. I always felt great in the mountains but no matter how many miles I logged, I still dreaded Monday morning.

So then I got the idea to start Alpine Lily. I wanted to do something completely different from my day job (engineering) that was fulfilling and creative and completely for my own pleasure and joy. I was filled with a rush of excitement and purpose. I made a list of books I’ve read and adventures I’ve been on that I wanted to write about and, more importantly, made a list of new adventures and books to read so that I could write about them. I found myself taking short walks outside at work when I got frustrated, and instead of thinking about work while I walked, I thought about what I would write on the blog. Instead of just filling up the week with thinking about what trails to check off, I started reading inspiring books and planning fulfilling adventures. The wanderlust that was only making me dislike my job more morphed into a sense of purpose and inspiration.

Over the past year I quit my job and found a better one. I volunteered for trail work five times for the Washington Trail Association and earned my very own hardhat. I spent a weekend camping with my sister in California and another in Oregon with my other sister discovering waterfalls. I tried sketching and painting on my hikes and went clamming and foraging for the first time. I took my friends backpacking and hiked with strangers that became friends. My husband and I revisited Green Mountain, the first peak we attempted to climb in Washington, after the trail was closed for nine years and finally made it to the top. We also revisited our home states back east and shared our favorite childhood outdoor places with each other and our families. I read so many books! I didn’t get in the number of miles that I was hoping for, but the quality of the miles more than made up for it.

I completed most of the goals that I set last year, but I am taking a different approach this year. I have only one goal for the year- to go into the outdoors as much as possible with my loved ones and with purpose. In addition, I came up with a Life List- experiences I want to have sometime in my life with no specific end date. These are things that are near and dear to my heart, not just places and trails to check off a list. Here are some of them in hopes of inspiring you to do the same.

Spend a night in a lookout and/or lighthouse
Find an Alpine Lily flower in the wild
Start an outdoor book club
Backpack solo
Hear wolves howling at the moon
Night kayaking
Snow camping
See the northern lights
Climb all the volcanoes in Washington with my husband
Visit the Three Sisters Wilderness in Oregon with my two sisters
Visit an active volcano
Hot air balloon ride

I wish you a very Happy New Year filled with lots of inspiration and quality time on the trails!

Hikes featured in this post:
Lily Lake

Outdoor Life

Artist Point Snowshoe

January 22, 2015August 7, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

I first laid eyes upon Mt Baker when I was 22. I was in college and visiting British Columbia for an internship trip and we stayed in the coastal town of White Rock. The tiny, beautiful, tourist town is nestled on a bluff overlooking Boundary Bay, just across the U.S.-Canadian border. I stayed in the nicest hotel room I ever had to myself and watched stunning sunsets from the pier. Here I caught glimpses of a far off volcano shrouded in the pink and gold of August alpenglow. This place was absolute heaven compared to Houston where I was living for the summer. I closed my eyes and savored every cool water breeze. We drove daily from White Rock to the Abbotsford airport on a sleepy two lane road called Avenue 0 that parallels the border. We stopped to look at monuments identifying the uncrossable border between two countries. I looked south to Washington, to open fields and flowers and to the white-capped Mt Baker, unknowingly looking through a window into my future.

Six years later on a cold, clear and dark February morning, my husband and I packed up the car with skis, snowshoes and the dog and commenced our first road trip to Mt Baker. The stars gave way to twilight and fog clung to the Nooksack valley as we made our way on the Mt Baker Highway. We climbed gradually along the river and finally up the steep switchbacks with hairpin turns protected from the steep drop offs by towering walls of snow on either side of us. On one of the hairpin turns I caught a glimpse of something in the rear view mirror and turned around. A huge and magnificent mountain filled the rear window. Holy crap, I said to my husband. I was introduced to Mt Shuksan.

The Mt Baker highway is a bit of a misnomer. The road goes to the Mt Baker Ski Area which is not on Baker at all but on Panarama Dome and is actually much closer to Mt Shuksan. The road was built in 1893 as a wagon road for what most roads were built for back in those days, gold mining. The road originally terminated at Maple Falls and then was later extended past Glacier and up to Heather Meadows then finally in the 1930’s extended up Austin Pass to Artist Point. There was talk of extending the road over the cascade crest to a gold mine on the east side, but a suitable pass was not found. In the winter the road is closed at the ski area making Artist Point a perfect snowshoeing destination.

I strapped on my snowshoes as my husband attached skins to his skis and the three of us made our way on the famously deep snow (this area holds the world record for recorded snowfall in one season- a whopping 95 feet in the winter of 1998-99). It wasn’t long before we crested the hill and beheld a feast for the eyes. The aptly named Artist Point is perched high on a ridge with 360 degree views of the North Cascades. To the left is Mt Shuksan and to the right is Mt Baker, seemingly within arm’s reach. Behind us, I take in the jagged guardians of the same invisible border I gazed across years ago, this time from the opposite side. As Nali and I ‘shoed down, my husband carved long smooth curves in the powder of a steep bowl high above the snow-covered Bagley Lakes. On that perfect bluebird day I decided that this was my favorite place in the Cascades and vowed to return as much as possible.

Koma Kulshan: The Story of Mt Baker by John C. Miles

The story of Mt Baker is one of lore and mystery, conservation, exploitation and amazing races. The mountain was considered sacred by Native Americans and was first spotted by travelers from sailing ships in the Straight of Juan de Fuca. It lured a forty-two year old librarian named Edmund Coleman to climb it’s glaciers to the summit for the first time in 1868. By the turn of the century, the mountain felt the steps of hundreds of climbers from the Mountaineers and the Mazama climbing groups and more. The apex of this epic climbing era occurred in 1911 & 1912 as a publicity stunt: marathon races to the top of the mountain. A far more tame version of the marathon exists today with the Ski to Sea multi-sport relay race every Memorial Day weekend. This is just a small snapshot of the fascinating history of the Mt Baker area told in this book.

Hikes Featured in this Post:

Artist Point, North Cascades, WA

Reading List

Reading List: Winter

January 7, 2015November 22, 2019
by Ashley Gossens

The Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey

This is the magical story of a couple who move to a homestead in Alaska in the 1920’s and a miracle happens. They are down on their luck and have been unsuccessful at having children. On the night of the first snow of the winter they build a small child in the snow and give her a scarf and mittens, a face and hair. It is a rare moment of happiness for the couple on the night of the first snow. The next morning the snow child is gone but left are boot prints in the snow and flashes of yellow hair in the woods. Based on a Russian fairy tale, this ultimately uplifting and brilliantly told story brings joy to the endless dark and frigid winter and will warm your heart. I simply adore this wonderful story of wilderness, survival, love and the inevitability of loss. Eowyn is not only a genius storyteller but also a bookseller at an independent bookstore in Alaska. Click on the link to order the book from her store.

In the Kingdom of Ice by Hampton Sides

This is the truly remarkable story of Captain DeLong and his mission on the USS Jeannette to reach the north pole in the late 1800’s. At the time there had been missions to the Arctic via Europe and Greenland but this was the first American mission through the Bering Sea between Russia and Alaska. No one had successfully reached the pole yet and there were many theories of what it would be like. Fans of Jules Verne may recognize the open polar sea theory in which it was believed that an ice free ocean surrounded the pole. DeLong and his crew never reached the pole and highly doubted the theory as they were stuck in pack ice for two freezing years. The ship finally yielded and sank to the bottom of the sea leaving the men alone on an epic journey over land. You can feel the unbearable cold these men suffered emanating from the pages of this amazing story.

The Way Winter Comes by Sherry Simpson

It seems that living in Alaska comes with a special connection to land and wildlife. Sherry shares her stories of living in a land of wolves, bears, otters, moose and raven. She does not shy away from the contradictions of living in such a place, it’s bounty of beauty and life bringing with it the harsh realities of death. These stories display her ability to explore these contradictions in sparse and concise prose that is beautiful to read. My favorite story in the collection is about her week long stay alone in a cabin on a secluded island. She playfully makes a list of creative ways she could die on the island, reads Moby Dick on the beach while listening to whales breach and contemplates life.

Winter World by Bernd Heinrich

Influenced by Jack London’s stories and his fascination with how the tiny golden crowned kinglet, no bigger than a hummingbird, survives through the rough Maine winters, Bernd goes on a mission to learn the intimate details of how evolution enables animals to cope with the winter world. Biologist by day, Bernd dives into the science behind why some animals stay active all winter and some hibernate or how tiny bugs survive freezing temperatures without their blood freezing. In true scientific form the book is full of notes from the field and lovely sketches by the author.

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis

This wintry classic was one of my favorite books growing up. I think everyone at some point in their life has pretended to discover a secret world with fantastical woodland creatures and delicious treats like turkish delight. Narnia is a chilly setting where it is always winter and never Christmas. With it’s fur coats, white witch, sleighs and evil wolves, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe may be the best winter adventure book of all time.

Outdoor Life

A Christmas Adventure in Alaska

December 18, 2014August 7, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

My husband was a bush pilot in Alaska for a few years. He was based in the tiny Inupiat village of Unalakleet (you-na-kleet) on the Norton Sound in northern Alaska. One year he had to work over Christmas so I flew up there to spend the holidays with him. He told me stories about the place and showed me some pictures, but I didn’t really know what to expect.

I flew to Anchorage and then got on a smaller plane to Unalakleet. We flew over jagged desolate mountains that melted into smaller hills and finally flattened into the sea. We landed on a gravel runway that was longer than the town itself. Everything was so white I couldn’t tell the difference between land and sea.

I spent the next few days flying around with my husband in an even smaller plane to even smaller villages with names like Shaktoolik, Koyuk and Kaltag delivering Christmas presents and food for the upcoming celebrations. We followed the mighty Yukon River inland to the Nulato Hills where the thermometer plummeted to 40 below zero. After flying we took a snowmobile up into the hills to soak in the views. One day we bundled up and walked down to the river to watch a dog sled race. The short days were a perpetual sunrise and sunset as the sun rose around 10am, hovered along the horizon, and then set around 4pm. My eyelashes froze together as we strolled the icy seaside watching for aurora in the endless and unobstructed night sky.

During my stay we spent a lot of time with the family that conducts flight operations in Unalakleet. They are some of the most hardworking and kindest people I know. They graciously invited us to a Christmas celebration with their extended family, which was predominately made up of Inupiat people. We had all the usual luxuries of a Christmas dinner in the lower 48 with turkey and mashed potatoes, they even had a lovely little Christmas tree.

We also had some native treats. I tried muktuk, which is a small piece of whale meat and blubber. It was as terrible as it sounds. I chewed it for a bit then gave up and swallowed it whole like a pill with eyes wide, nodding, and smiling, choking out an enthusiastic yum! I also tried akutaq (ah-goo-duk), sometimes called Eskimo ice cream. It’s a blend of white fish, crisco (traditionally moose or caribou fat), vegetable oil (traditionally seal or whale oil), sugar and wild berries sort of whipped up into creamy deliciousness. This was my favorite.

I had a lovely, adventurous and magical Christmas that year in Unalakleet. But I haven’t told you the whole story. The truth is that I feel very conflicted about sharing my story of spending a lovely Christmas with Native Americans, a holiday thrust upon them by white people. I also feel compelled to report that there is so much hardship in these native villages. Climate change is making it harder for the Inupiat people to continue their subsistence harvests and the later forming ice causes erosion that is destroying some coastal towns. Contact with the outside world has brought good things like medicine, education and healthcare, but along with those things come alcohol, drugs, loss of a sense of purpose and sadly, a high suicide rate.

Around this time of year it is easy to keep ourselves in a bubble and forget about the struggles of others while we drink and be merry. This can be either a coping mechanism or ignorance, but neither makes it ok. So let’s remember that there are so many people out there struggling to make ends meet. This Christmas I challenge you, dear reader, to be kind. Give a homeless person a meal, stand up for someone being discriminated against or just say hello to a stranger. Let’s make the world a better place even if it is just for one day of the year.

Ordinary Wolves by Seth Kanter

If you are at all interested in what life in the northern Alaskan tundra is really like then you should read this. The novel tells the story of a white boy known by his Inupiaq name Cutuk whose artist father brings the family to the Alaskan wilderness to live off the land in a sod igloo. Cutuk grows up and learns the ways of the land but never fits in with the Native American culture. He grows up and becomes curious about the outside world and when he travels to Anchorage is bewildered by modern day life. Seth weaves in realities of his own life growing up in northern Alaska with this sometimes harrowing tale of a boy reconciling two very different worlds. I picked up this book at the Anchorage airport on the way to Unalakleet and found it to be a great companion on my trip.