Montana and Old Friends

Another day sitting in the car while it rains, another post.  Don't let me mislead you, most of today was gorgeous, it only drizzled a little just before bedtime.  But here we sit in another campground outside of Glacier National Park reflecting on another week gone by.  We spent almost the entire day in the sun outside a single shop in East glacier village, a 1 stop sign town.  Because they had showers.  And laundry.  And pizza.  And ice cream.  And cell service.  The necessities in life...

We began the Montana adventure meeting up with 'old friends': cousin Becca and her girl Sarah.  They harassed us into visiting while we passed through town and insisted on showing us what Montana had to offer.  They are both spend most of their days in the remote forests building trails and experiences.  We tooled around Helena for pizza and beer, and made a day out of the road south to Bozeman, stopping at Wheat Montana Bakery along the way.  Again with the baked goods. 

Bozeman had lovely charm to the shopping and culinary district.  We also managed to swing by a used gear store and the Bozeman REI, where we ran into another 'old friend', Sarah-from-Bozeman. Sarah-from-Bozeman was another 2015 Anderson award recipient, and probably has a real last name but introduced herself to me as Sarah, from Bozeman.  We spoke of climbing, and she suggested some local cliffs to which we could attach ourselves to relatively easily.  So after our final night boozing with Becca and co., we headed off to the Red Cliff sport routes, because we are too chicken to try multi pitch trad on our own yet...  We snuck in a few early evening climbs prior to some major storms rolling through.  Stacy got the hang of setup and tear down of anchors, and I led a 5.9 that was truly humbling.

With everything being soaked the following day, we rang up Sarah-from-Bozeman who happened to have the day off, and suggested some hikes.  Middle Cottonwood turned out to be quite nice.  I will admit, I have always considered the climax of a hike to be a vista, a summit, a pass, or some other sort of altitude feature.  Never before was I willing to admit how breathtaking a field of wild flowers could be, but...wow. 

After the hike Sarah-from-Bozeman kindly offered us a spot on the futon if we brought beer.  We sang songs, told jokes, and met a nice (and very cuddly) cat and 2 dogs as it rained cats and dogs outside.  

The following morning, after a splendid breakfast, we parted ways, and headed off to an 'old friend' of a park, Glacier.  A few local yokels had told us about a stop on the way called Crystal Park.  This is a state park where recreational mining for quartzite crystals is permitted with hand tools.  So we stopped and dug around with our poop trowel for a few hours, and lo and behold, crystals!  It was a good activity to clear the mind and vent some energy.  On to Glacier...

We had already been to Glacier NP, back in 2010 when we lived in Idaho.  It was a case of holiday romance that lasted after the holiday.  I still claim it is my favorite park.  We managed some wonderful hikes that trip.  Some mountains are beautiful to look at, some inspire awe, and some inspire fear.  Glacier contains a range of peaks that install all those emotions.  With majestic peaks, tranquil lakes, massive waterfalls, and an uncompromising attitude about wildlife managment, it is what a park should be.  

Our reason for returning?  Old friends!  We were contacted and asked to meet up with Matt and Courtney, an absolutely wonderful couple that were on our absolutely wonderful hike in Patagonia.  They happened to be visiting around the time we were!  We met their wonderful relatives, including a rambunctious niece and nephew. Oh and there was Teddy, the mini adventure dog.  Some fun day hikes were had, along with mountains pies and s'mores!

We didn't want to be too social/crash their family time too much longer so after 2 days we wandered off to the most remote part of the park for some backcountry.  We decided to attempt a 3 day jaunt up to Boulder pass. Apparently, the lower sections of the trail is so overgrown that the plants untie your shoelaces for you and then pick your pockets when you attempt to retie them.  The way the campsite reservations worked out, we were stuck with an appalling 17 mile day 2.  It would be up and back.  It was a very long day and the trails were more than overgrown, the ground completely hidden by green wet growth in some areas. There were some fresh big game signs, but no actual  sightings.  We managed to make the pass, and celebrated with rehydrated apple crisp that night.  

The hike out the following day was very rainy and depressing.   Ups and downs and bushwhacking through soggy vegetation.  But our soggy sorrows were drowned at the coolest bar I've been to yet.  The Northern Lights Saloon.  Hit it up if you are ever in the middle of nowhere 20 miles from Canada. That night, we attempted to dry our stuff in the car on a backwoods Montana forest road as mosquitoes feasted on Stacy.

And now we come full circle to the following day of sunshine, laundry, showers, beer and pizza.  Life's rainy days  are usually followed by sunshine, beer and pizza. 

-K

P.S.

We did one final hike after I wrote this, up to ptarmigan tunnel.  It was a gorgeous day, and the tunnel is a really cool thing.  It was blasted through the pass cwwm in 1930 to accommodate the luxurious horse camping of the pre-WWII aristocracy.  The previous trail was too difficult for their horses and they had to walk.  At least that how ranger Bill explained it to us.

Onward to Canada!!!

Mountains and Baked Goods

The problem with taking a trip to lose yourself in the wilderness, is that you can do just that.  The days blur together with weekends only becoming noticeable by the influx of people and finding places with cell reception/free wifi is few and far between (or at least that is my excuse for not being socially-media active lately).  Which means that sometimes you find yourself in a National Park on a holiday weekend… Oops.  It is all part of the experience right?

As we drove towards our next park destination/realizing the error in our transient lifestyle ways, we were contemplating how the lack of pre-planning can make us attempt to think of  "on the spot" alternate plans (usually after a few back and forth quibbles trying to make the other one "be more decisive" and be the one to make the final choice) yet somehow it always works out. Funny enough, even as I am writing this, I cannot remember who won the latest bicker battle, so I can't take the credit nor would I relinquish it to Karl either but I can say the adventures of Starl Krenbic would not be the same if it didn't happen this way.

So, we find ourselves heading across Washington (yet again) up towards North Cascades National Park on not only a weekend, but the extended holiday weekend of the 4th of July. People everywhere. The first come first serve campsites that we have become accustomed to driving up to on a whim, were snatched up long before we even got near the park midday on the 2nd.  So we went to the Wilderness Visitor Center by the park to ask a Ranger on recommendations on possible places to camp outside of the park's borders. Simple words of wisdom:  "Find a National Forest Service Road to pull off on where 'dispersed camping' is free and unlimited."

FREE! 

+ the challenge of finding cool roads for Karl/Elle to tackle 

= Advice that has changed us ever since.

Off we go again onto the roads slightly less travelled to find a place to sleep for the night.

Along with the tip of utilizing forest service roads, we spoke with rangers about advice on what areas of the park we should try to see and check trail/weather conditions for said areas and this lil gem of a poem was in the ranger station with the weather reports:

What to Expect in the North Cascades

It rained and rained and rained

The average fall was well maintained.

And when the tracker were simply bogs,

It started raining cats and dogs.

After a drought of half an hour,

We had a most refreshing shower,

And then the most curious thing of all

A gentle rain began to fall!

Next day was also fairly dry,

Save for a deluge from the sky,

Which wetted the party to the skin,

And after that- the real rain set in.

It was quite the truth, and I loved the humor behind the honesty most of all.

On Sunday, July 3rd, we decided on a popular and highly recommended hike to Cascade Pass & beyond to the Sahale Arm to get some glacier/mountain views no matter what the weather (good thing, because we got the whole range of weather from sunshine, to downpours, to freezing winds, to snow) But, here is the thing, no matter how much I tell myself "there is no such thing as bad weather, just bad gear" the weather still can and will sway your mood especially when coupled with a 6+mile UPHILL hike and probably about 4,000 ft of elevation gain.

I am not complaining (well, I did complain- but I'll get to that later), or saying the hike was not worth it (looking back, the accomplished task always seems worth it AFTER the fact), or stating that this was a particularly difficult hike (it was only rated "M" or moderate, not "S" for strenuous) I am just warning you that I was not always on my "best behavior" so to say.

Here's the thing I have never been a happy hiker on continuous steep hills but I at least know my weaknesses and have been working on them. Usually when I have to hike mile upon mile of UPs, a mantra goes thru my head; something along the lines of "Set your goals high, Don't stop until you're there" or "It is just a hill, get over it" and I repeat that over and over in my head to a steady beat to keep my feet moving along with. My goal is to keep moving, even if it is at "Stacy Pace-y".  It works well for me, usually (key word, usually).

Then there are days like this where even if I am hiking as fast as I can people are passing me as if I was moving at a snail's speed. Karl made me feel slightly better when I expressed my frustration at my "terrible hiking abilities" by telling me to think of it as if we were learning how to swim, but decided to practice our strokes at an Olympic training facility pool. All the other people in that pool are Olympic athletes and have been swimming in that pool or ones like it for a long while, while we were used to kiddy pools until now so, of course, they swim faster than we do at the moment. But, in an Olympic sized swimming pool there are enough lanes for us all: fast or slow, Olympic swimmer or doggie paddler. After his metaphoric words of wisdom, I questioned myself "why the hell do you care if people pass you or not? It doesn't matter what they think of you, you are not here for them, keep hiking!"

Yet, it wasn't just being passed by faster hikers though, there were also the countless muddy switchbacks, then multiple snowfield crossings (where ice axes were needed yet again), and onto scrambling through talus all just to say we got to a certain point on a mountain One is supposed to be rewarded by spectacular views when they put themselves through something like this, yet we were rewarded with a freezing cold, blistering winds, and a great big gray cloud.

There was a point, less than 100 ft from the base camp for those who were attempting to summit Sahale Mountain, where I, in my attempt to keep up with Karl (who I swear is part mountain goat) lost my footing on the rocks and slipped (in my own, non-mountain goat-like ungraceful fashion) and landed my ass on a huge boulder. Frustrated with myself again, yelping over the winds at Karl like a kid having a temper tantrum, "WHY the HELL are we doing this?"

His smile and laughter were as much as an answer as any, but putting it in the best words he could he said "because I love it up here, the snow, the rocks, the thought that one big mistake could mean death! It is exciting!"

And, of course, he was right even if I was stuck at the being terrified of making the big mistake part, it was none the less quite exciting once you got over that.

After my mini meltdown/pouting session was over, Karl lifted me back on my feet and we made it to camp. Lucky for Karl, 2 things happened that brought my spirits back up. First. there were some mountaineers set up in their tents surrounded by hand built little rock walls to try to block the winds, waiting for a weather window in which they could attempt to summit the mountain (which no one could even see due to the cloud). But, they were super friendly, and right away greeted us with an immediate, "HEY! Are you two going for the summit?" In that fleeting moment, these bad-ass, tricked out with gear, mountaineers thought we looked at least semi-bad-ass enough to make the attempt too.  Even in the frigid temperatures up there, my heart warmed a bit. It was as if these guys included me into a club I didn't even knew I wanted to belong to.  Karl explained that we were only day hikers checking the mountain out, and somehow the mountaineers thought that was even cooler. Right away a discussion about gear (and showing off of ice axes) began. Secondly, one of the mountaineers pointed across the high plain and said, "Look, the mountain goats are back!" (Apparently the goats have been hanging around their camp all that day and night before, trying to lick the rocks that they peed on Yes, you read that right. The goats go for the salts in our pee.)  So I got to bound around in the snow for a bit watching a mountain goat and her baby for a while. And anyone that knows me, knows that any chance to hang out (safely) and take pictures of wildlife is going to make me happy, even if we were in a cloud that obstructed any other glacier/mountain view I had my goats.

The way back down is always easier on the mind, yet not so much on the knee joints (thank goodness for trekking poles). Plus, I got a few good photo sessions in with some hoary marmots and even a pika sighting!

Once again, even if the park's campsite might have been clearing out with the weekend ending, we found another National Forest Service Road and spent the night stealth camping in the rain for free. The next morning, we drove to the visitor center bright and early (and I use that as a phase only because there was nothing bright about the day yet) to inquire about good hikes to do in the rain. They say lessons are learned the hard way, and this is why one should ALWAYS stretch before and after ANY activity AND when one wakes up in the morning. Apparently, the 12+ miles the day before put a lot more strain on my body than I thought because on a perfectly smooth and even surface (the paved parking lot of the visitor center) just after Karl parked Ele and we got out and took less than 5 steps towards away from the car my left leg gave out. And I went down, HARD.  Thankfully, only Karl was there to witness my humiliation of a face plant (he thought I broke an ankle or something with how I crumpled to the ground but the only thing broken was a lil bit more of my pride. I did manage to help soak up some of the rain off the road where I fell though Just doing my part, ya know.  It was there and then that we decided that we needed a "take it easy" day, plus it was the 4th of July and a holiday.

So we hung out around Diablo Lake, 

found a fitting trail along Panther Creek for the day called "Fourth of July Pass", 

and then drove to check out the easy hike to Rainy Lake (perfectly named for a rainy day). 

Oddly enough, our "easy day" added up to about 9 miles still go figure.  Since it was still a holiday we decided to drive to one of the lil towns outside of the park and the park seemed to thank us  for visiting with a beautiful double rainbow in the valleys. Our destination, which is a popular stop for PCT thru hikers, Winthrop, is actually quite adorable with its western themed town, with its dusty roads and wooden boardwalks instead of sidewalks. We grabbed some grub and beers at the brewery there and to top it all off, we had ice cream from the sweet shop. Not a bad way to spend the 4th.

 When I started this blog post, I mentioned alternated plans had to be made due to the holiday weekend The original plan of our was always to go visit the town of Stehekin.  Cool Fact of the Day: the name Stehekin came from an Indian word meaning "the way through". The only problem is that there are no roads to this place, the only way you can get to there is by a 30+mile hike through the Cascade Mountain range or by taking a 4 and half hour boat ride along Lake Chelan (which is apparently the 3rd deepest lake in America) on the passenger ferry called the Lady of the Lake II (and you need to get reservations in advance on weekends)

Stehekin is a very remote lil community with about 80 year round residents, and everyone we spoke with said that if one want to get the feeling of "solitude" this is the perfect place to go. All campgrounds are first come, first serve and they boast about what you "won't find" in Stehekin: cell service, ATMs, groceries, or traffic. The way to get around this pristine and completely-disconnected-from-society lil town in the woods is by hiking, biking, or taking the shuttle.  Funny thing is that you have to pay (each way) for the shuttle service and most of our cash (remember, they boast about not having ATMs) was spent the first day with our round trip shuttle fees. Oh well, once the shuttle dropped us off at the last stop on the road, we heading for a hike to Agnes Gorge (2.5 miles one way ) and apparently my hiking speeds have improved because even at "Stacy Pace-y" we got back with enough time to do a second hike to Howard Lake (which used to be called Coon Lake, 1.3 miles  one way) before the shuttle came to pick us back up. The best thing about both of those hikes, is that we had the trails all to ourselves. I didn't have to worry about comparing myself to any "Olympic swimmers" there.

While waiting for the shuttle to take us back to camp we did meet a young thru hiker (doing the PCT) and an avid outdoor adventurer (just enjoying the park). Getting to meet people like them and share the passion for the places we just happened to cross paths on together is a great way to accentuate how cool this whole trip is.  

We slept well that night, only to wake early and determined. Even though we spent our cash on the shuttle the day before, we were told the "must do" thing in Stehekin was to visit the bakery and eat a cinnamon bun. So, up with the sunlight, we walked the 2 miles to the Stehekin Pastry Company, and I guess we walk faster when gooey goodies are the end goal because we arrived at the bakery even before it opened! One of the residents that worked at the bakery was super kind and  offered for us to come inside early even if everything wasn't out of the ovens yet, but we resisted temptation and just relaxed in the cool morning air, smelling the sweet scents of dough and cinnamon waft  out the windows. 

Once that sign flipped from "CLOSED" to "OPEN" we were drooling with anticipation, and as usual our eyes were bigger than our stomachs but what people said about the cinnamon buns was all lies they weren't just delicious, they were heavenly (especially when you are handed one just out of the oven, still so warm that the icing just cascades off the sides in puddles). Hungry now, aren't ya? We also snagged some of the "day old" bread to take back with us for later.

To walk off our sugar high and waste time until our departing boat ride back we continued our walk along the road past the bakery to visit historic sites like the Old Stehekin Schoolhouse and the Buckner Orchard with a lil nature trail of seeing Rainbow Falls in between. 

The schoolhouse was interesting and eerie at the same time, seeing the tiny 2 room building that would be the educational outlet for all the kids from K thru 8 in one place. It felt frozen in time (closed in '88, there were still school books and even a baby doll in some of the desks). 

The Buckner Orchard was along the same lines, as if you stepped into a history book frozen in time. Walking through what is now considered the Buckner Homestead Historic District, you are reminded by the self guided tour guide book to take only pictures and leave only footprints (the deer were certainly nibbling on the apples though!) 

And as for the Rainbow Falls, even though we did not catch any glimpse of rainbows in the morning light the mist from the plummeting waters was cool, refreshing, and sparkled with magic that can only be found in the outdoors.

Reality (a.k.a. our paid tickets back on the ferry) called.  We napped on the boat ride back with only the occasional sighting of wildlife along the shores to arouse us, jumped in the car and were off to the next adventure.  

P.S. we stayed that final night at a placed called Dry Falls State Park.  When it flowed, it was the largest waterfall on earth.  Check it out sometime. The bats flying around that night also provided wonderful entertainment. If you stood in the middle of the field, the bugs were attracted to you and therefore the bats would swoop down inches from your face to feast on the bug buffet you were providing them. It was awesome!

<3 S

Lessons on Mount St. Helens and the A,B,C, & Ds

You know, it’s nice to take a break after visiting all of those mountains in the Olympic range and Rainier. See something different for a change, right? So, we made our way to... more mountains! Mount St. Helens and Mount Hood to be exact. Oh and Portland too (guess that was our “taste of something different”).  

If you want a glimpse of understanding into how insignificant we are in the world and how quickly the forces of nature can blink us out, visit Mt. St. Helens.  It is the site of the largest landslide in recorded history (and the concurrent volcanic eruption). 

We had a 'private' Ranger-led hike, because no one else wanted to go on the interpretive hike, Karl didn’t even really want to go but I insisted (I love talking to Park Rangers, I kinda want to be one of them). It was splendid, since our US Forest Ranger was a kind young geology major, ready with lots of good technical info (which Karl enjoyed) and photographs (which I enjoyed) as long as we stayed on the trail and did not step on any of the delicate wildflowers. Honestly, getting to watch a Park Ranger scold the stupid people picking the wildflowers or tramping off the trail (as if the signs did not apply to them) made me absolutely giddy because I want to yell at people like that all the time!

Hearing about those who died and/or witnessed what happened on May 18^th, 1980 from an actual person rather than reading those same accounts on the plaques or memorials really made the stories feel so much more personal, more real, or relatable in a way. Most of us know about Mt. St. Helens, but do we think about the power of that natural force that day or the fear of those who were in its way? Just something to think about…

Onward to Portland and the ABC&Ds! 
A is for Animals
B is for Books
C is for Climbing
& for everything in between
D is for Deschutes

A is for Animals… More importantly: Asian Elephants! The Oregon Zoo has an epic Asian Elephant exhibit and enclosure. This was something I was very excited to see (who would have thought I want to see that, right?). We even got to see an Elephant Keeper talk and witness some enrichment training.

Of course, with my love of all animals, and missing my Kids Kingdom Zoo Crew back in Pittsburgh, I did enjoy just getting to visit the zoo in general but, seriously... The ELEPHANTS!

B is for Books (and a few Beers)…  When we were at Mt. St. Helens, we met a couple that was from Portland and asked what we should do in the city and their answer was to visit Powell’s.  So we head down to checkout this multistory, city block bookstore that one can easily get lost in.  I imagine that they do have at least 1 new copy of every book ever published in English, and then there are the used books, books in other languages, and audio books too.  After hours of separate wanderings through the shelves (I found Karl in the climbing information section) we decided to limit ourselves to one paperback object each to keep us occupied. We could have stayed there for much longer, but we had a date with my former coworker and current friend, Nick S (I know everyone at 101 is jealous!).  Actually, we sort of stalked him at REI in Portland (made one of his co-workers page him) and then went to explore Powell’s until Nick’s quitting time so that we could go enjoy a killer all day “happy hour” with him and his fiancé, Megan.  

It was such a great night catching up with those two (who are in the homestretch of planning their wedding). One of the many conversations we had included asking Nick about climbing, and he suggested a secluded forest retreat up a dirt road (dueling banjoes not included). 

Which brings us to the letter C:

C is for Climbing! Nick’s suggestions are how we found ourselves sleeping on top of a cliff overlooking all of eastern Oregon.  Bulo Point has some really good climbs, and not on the types of cliffs and terrain we are used to back in PA.  No, we seriously got schooled (or at least I felt that I did).  Especially the first day we got there as I was struggling on a 5.8, feeling frustrated with my climbing abilities while Karl was running on pure adrenaline and joy, making every climb look like an easy hop, skip, and a jump. (Story of my life: him with his damn coordination, balance, and confidence in his placements/grips makes me look ridiculous in comparison…)  Picking up on my slow adjustment to the new more challenging surroundings, we did not get into anything too crazy, mostly played around with top roping some routes at first. But, despite Karl saying he was “kinda scared” he moved onto sport leading the same routes, and then even started to play with placing our new trad gear (which he was been itching to do for a while).  

After a good night’s sleep under a starry sky and being woken up to a stunning sunrise, I felt much stronger in that environment and actually kicked ass on some 5.9 routes too! Karl, to use his own words “grew a pair” and took his first purposeful falls on bolts and nuts, which he placed. Afterwards, in exhilaration he asked if I wanted to take a purposeful fall on my next climb as well… My reply was the truth: I don’t need to try to fall; I do it on my own all the time without intending too. No need to practice for me!  With that said, the iconic climb of the area is a lead 90+ foot 5.8/9 with some serious open air up top and somehow, we made it look easy.  Boo yah! 

The only reason I probably did so well on that was because 2 local climbers showed up and I kept thinking about how I didn’t want to embarrass myself and fall with an audience watching. Karl, like I said before, makes everything look easy, even if he says he is scared.

Feeling the day’s work out in our muscles (and proud of ourselves), we ended the night by Karl teaching me some new knots, practicing prusiking, and chatting with the local climbers about gear and the love of just being out here doing our thing. These are the kind of nights we imagined having when we first started planning this trip, it felt good.
The third day at Bulo was just the morning, but Karl got to play with all kinds of climbing protection and I even cleaned a climb!

After all that climbing we felt like we earned some “down time”… so we drove the scenic route around Mt. Hood again and headed for Bend, Oregon. Along the way, we stopped in Portland again to stretch our legs by walking through the free International Rose Test Gardens. Admittedly it was beautiful and the sheer amount of different roses they are grooming and growing are impressive (not as fragrant as I thought it would be) but I would still prefer a field of wild flowers (or daisies) any day over roses any day.

Back on the road, and to the letter D (because D is for Deschutes Brewery). For a while now, a favorite beer of ours has been Deschutes’ seasonal brew: Red Chair. That beer is the reason we wanted to visit Bend. Of course, our timing is off and Red Chair is not in season but a free tour of where the magic happens plus 4 free samples each was still worth it! 

With the lengthy detour to get to Bend and the fact that we would be consuming various amounts of alcohol, it seemed like a good idea to find a place to spend the night in the area (easier said than done due to it being the Thursday before the 4^th of July weekend). Luck was with us and we found a B&B with a room still available at a decent price, so we were ready to drink, eat, and then drink some more! After the tour and samplings, we walked to the brewpub for burgers (and more beer) and then the rest of the night was spent in a slightly buzzed state of happiness, doing laundry (free use of a washer & drier = major score!) and soaking in a hot tub. It was all amazing, even the laundry (even if we did manage to blow a fuse at the B&B! Apparently, not many guests use the free laundry and they didn’t know that running the washing and dryer at the same time would do that. Haha) Oh, and the free breakfast at the Mill Inn was phenomenal! 

P.S. We made another critter friend (or rather, Karl’s foot did). While we in the hot tub, a slug seemed to think Karl’s shoe was a good place to explore. After our soak, we grabbed our shoes to walk barefoot back into the B&B. A little while later when Karl realized he needed something from Ele, he went to put his shoe on and made the funniest face I ever saw. It was a slow motion combination of shocking “what the hell is that” and uneasy confusion of “why is my toe slimy and cold all of a sudden”… and there he was: I shall name him Slurms MacKenzie, making a nice mess in Karl’s shoe. Do no fear, Slurms MacKenzie was not harmed, just went on a lil adventure with us. Karl relocated him from shoe to shrub shortly after I stopped laughing and Karl cleaned his shoe out a bit.

Even though our visit was short, I have to say, I liked Bend a lot (and no, it is not all the beer talking). There is a REI there…. Hmmmmm.

<3 S

-K

The Mousecapades

Just a little tail (I mean tale) that was too entertaining not to share and it went something like this:

Hickory, dickory, dock,

The mouse ran up the clock,

The clock struck one

The mouse ran down

Hickory, dickory, dock.

Well actually, it was a deer mouse and he did not run up a clock but a Honda Element, BUT it was around one (AM) and he did not run down as easily either.

We were parked at a campsite in Ohanapecosh and staying in Elle for the night due to the ease (and comfort) of our bed in there (Home is where you park it!). 

Getting the full Pacific Northwest weather experience, it was raining and the sounds of the drops on the roof were quite soothing.  We were warm, dry, and sleeping soundly until around 1AM. 

"tk tk tk tk scratch tk tk tk scratch"

There are plenty of “unfamiliar” sounds while camping and your imagination goes wild with the smallest sounds in the dead of night.  Usually, for this very reason, we wear earplugs when we sleep but the sound of the rain on the roof was so soothing we skipped it this time. 

And again “tk tk tk tk scratch tk tk tk scratch” above our heads.

In the grogginess of waking, I ask Karl if he hears something, and his mumbled response is something about how he opened the latch of the moon roof to vent some air and a moth must have gotten in. All I could think was, “That is one big ass moth then.”

Silence, giving us just enough time to start falling back into unconsciousness until: "tk tk tk tk scratch!"

We both blink, scrambling for our headlamps, only to shine the red beam up to a small hole that is in the plastic pillar on Karl’s side of the Element’s leading to the roof liner. Sticking out of that hole are WHISKERS!

Shocked with being spotted, the whiskers retreat into the hideout and again across the top of our heads: the scampering “tktktktktktkt” of little legs running to the other side, and he looks out again.

Our warm dry haven was tempting and this guy wanted to join us by crawling through the slotted opening of the moon roof and into the gap that is between the roof and inside the headliner of the Element!

In my sleepy state, I could not stop giggling. All I could think of was Doug (the dog from UP!) saying “Get off of his ROOF!” so I named our visitor Kevin. Karl, not as entertained, scrambled around in the small confines of our bed space muttering things like “he better not chew anything important!” while knocking on plastic parts of the pillars and roof trying to determine where Kevin might have scurried to.

I suggested we use duct tape to cover the exposed holes at the top of each pillar that Kevin keeps running between to look out of. Thinking that if those new routes are blocked off, he will go back to where we came in from, the moon roof exit.

Taped up, the waiting game began.

With it still raining and all but one exit (that we knew of) for Kevin blocked, I was snuggling up again, getting ready to go back to bed. Figuring that we could deal with Kevin in the daylight… Karl, slightly on edge, finally joined and we begin to doze.

And then all at once:

Louder: “Scratch Scratch Scratch” noises right above our heads…

And a tap on my shoulder…. Thinking Karl is tapping me awake again, I say “Karl, was that you?” He replies, “No, whhhyyyyyy????”

And Kevin, sitting on my shoulder, RUNS on the blanket over to Karl and then down along my legs, only to disappear behind the passenger seat.

Karl is asking me why I didn’t try to catch Kevin in the blanket, and I am in another giggling fit asking Karl how he expected me to catch Kevin when I was half asleep.

Oh sleep, it was far from our minds now (I was laughing too much and Karl was pissed because now Kevin was where our gear, clothes, and food are stored)… So, rather than a just a noisemaker above us, below the bed he could actually cause damage to something. Thankfully, the weather spirits smiled upon us at this point because the rain turn into only a mist and we opened the passenger side doors and started disassembling (pulling things like my duffel of clothes, the food storage container, etc) and making sure they were Kevin free.

Kevin, the adorable lil bugger, actually never went under the bed; rather he flitted between the space under the passenger seat and the foot well (and into my hiking boots a few times). Kevin made his way to the edge multiple times, only to retreat back into the dark crevices under the seat, changing his mind last minute while Karl is outside the car trying to sweet talk Kevin out of the open doors.  I’m still on top of the bed, watching the saga draw out with a huge grin.

Apparently, I think like a mouse or something, but I had an idea and told Karl to use my rolled up yoga mat as ramp from the door ledge to the ground and then walk away.  *My thought process was that if I was Kevin’s size I would not want to leap that far either…

The waiting game (round 2) began.

Within a minute of the yoga mat being strategically placed Kevin checks it out, puts his lil feet onto it, and confidently strolls down the mat. Once he touched dirt, he hastens away with speed.  RUN Kevin RUN, You are free my friend!

And we were back into bed, furry friend free, by 2:30AM! I will always remember Kevin fondly.

My mom (who I told this story to over the phone) was disappointed I didn’t get a picture of our houseguest, Kevin. But, he looked something like this:

Rainier National Park

There has always been this magical aura around the topic of Mount Rainier, at least for me (S). How could there not be when its image is plastered on the walls of REI, looming it's beauty even from an enlarged photo over the frontline registers that I used to call my domain back in Pittsburgh, reminding us of the history REI and the Andersons had with that mountain.

Then you hear famous John Muir quotes like "Of all the fire mountains which like beacons, once blazed along the Pacific Coast, Mount Rainier is the noblest."

Or, you hear stories like Fay Fuller's (the first woman to summit Mount Rainier) and her refusal for assistance and "resolve to climb until exhausted".  It is all inspiring and reinforces the need to experience this powerful majesty for yourself.

The mountain dominates the skyline from miles away.  It appears to be supernaturally pasted onto the unnaturally blue sky (we seemed to have hit the lottery with the visibility, with only wisps of fluffy clouds floating around). Luckily, we managed to snag a campsite in this popular park at Cougar Rock, right by Paradise.  We went full tilt and set up the REI Kingdom and garage.  This will be our respite from the confines of living in the back of a car.  Fully setup, its like a 3 room apartment.  In Manhattan.  So tiny for typical living arrangements, but gigantic for camping.

We headed up to the Paradise visitor center, and what a drive... The park's roads were engineered in such a way that less than 6% of the natural wilderness would be changed yet it could be accessible and provide engaging and thrilling views at every turn.  Then you get to Henry M. Jackson Memorial Visitor Center, the largest and fanciest visitor center we have seen so far, which is a wealth of exhibits, panoramic views from large windows, and knowledgeable advice from park rangers on what to do and when.  After we prepared ourselves with tips, maps, and postcards we made our way back to camp with a plan for the next few days.

The following morning was spent wandering the parks in search of a worthy hike.  We settled on comet falls, one of the tallest in the park.  It was a nice 5 mile round trip, and we spent some time playing with the camera settings, new filters, and getting the lens all misty.

I had enough of these silly dirt trails and decided that I wanted to hike in mashed potatoes.  Luckily the main loop from the lodge, Skyline, was still 80% snow covered and therefore less people were willing to attempt the trek.  We grabbed the ice axes and went off to get closer to the mountain.  It was slushy, steep at times, and the sounds of glaciers cracking was faintly in the air but we made it up to Panoramic Point.  From here you can see south to Adams, St. Helens, Hood, and beyond.  Or north to Rainier...

We had some glissading practice on the way back down, and Stacy (after some convincing) did great!
Spoiler Alert: I have some other GoPro shots from the following days glissade back down from Camp Muir, all of which are in the picture album. To end our 2nd full day, it was also recommended that we take some time to reflect, so we headed down to check out the Reflections Lake.

The following morning, much to the Stacys consternation, I decided to get up at 7am and solo hike up to Camp Muir, the highest spot on the mountain to be safely reached without permits and mountaineering equipment.  ~4.5mi with 4600' of gain, and then back down.  It was rough, I'll say that much.

Afterwards, since I left Stacy at camp all morning, she insisted that we hike even more. But, it was more relaxing in the Grove of the Patriarchs witnessing several thousand year old cedars, hemlocks, and firs guard this valley.  Very serene.

Oh yeah, and there was a roadside black bear having fresh arugula and goat cheese salad.  Cool.

All of this time in Rainier has been prior to the 'season' opening, meaning all of the campsites had been walk up.  It was now Friday afternoon on opening weekend and we had yet to find a campsite that was not reserved.  We decided to drive up to White River (walk up only) only to find out the campground does not open until Saturday. Great.  Back down in the rainy valley of Ohanapecosh, we managed to snag a 1 night site.  In the rain I sat and worked hard on this silly blog and photos, while Stacy played Grand Theft Auto on the PSP.  At least that's the way I remember it... Oh, and we made a friend named Kevin (more on him in a later post)...

Onto our final full day.  We went to White River early to get a site right at opening, and what a beautiful day it was up there.  I couldn't stand for the sunshine and forced us to march up the ridge to Frozen Lake in whiteout conditions.  Just kidding, it wasn't a forced march.  On the bright side, we are starting to get our high elevation hiking legs under us.

Back down in the sun of the valley, we dried out, cut each others hair, and watched a movie in the car.  Slumdog Millionaire was pretty good.  We're really roughing it out here, huh? I think that's it for Rainier, it has really been a pleasure being a spectator of this place and seeing why all the Native Americans and early mountain men like Muir considered this place sacred and in need of preservation and protection.

-K
&
<3 S