Playing peek a boo with Mount Baker - Skyline Divide

One of my favorite things is hiking and spending the night in the wilderness with my two young-ish sons. Now that they are old enough to carry their own stuff, backpacking is doable. It still means that I carry the tent and most of the heavy stuff, but they carry their fair share themselves.  ('Why', I ask myself, 'do I carry so much heavy stuff when these kids run circles around me?')

This week, Kai, Lukas and I hiked one of my favorite trails: Skyline Divide. It's one of my favorite hikes, because it is so dramatic, what with Mount Baker staring right into your face once you hike up two miles through a mature silver fir forest. After these initial two miles, the hiking book states, “At 2 miles clutch your heart and prepare for visual attack as the trail emerges onto a grassy knoll, unfurling a backdrop of the Great White One (Mount Baker), surrounded by some pretty darn nice ones.” I couldn't have said it better. It's really quite spectacular and mind blowing.

The hike up was steep and hard. We had to carry all of our water, since there is none on the ridge so late in summer. Do you know how much weight a gallon of water adds to your pack? I was a little worried when, five minutes into the hike, my butt cheeks went into spasms. Lukas and Kai didn't fare better, so we took our time and rested frequently, which turned into quite a spectacle. First, gingerly feel behind you to make sure you will land on something soft or level, then let your weight fall down, get caught by your heavy pack, and at the same time unstrap the chest strap so you won't get strangled. When you are ready to get back on your feet, pull yourself up with a lot of grunting and moaning, and then help the person next to you by firmly pulling on their hands.

This is how heavily packed we were.

Steep mountain sides are especially handy for resting, since it's easier to get up when your pack rests a little higher.

I instructed the boys to clutch their hearts once we made it up onto the grassy knoll and get prepared for the splendid view of Mount Baker. Except when we got there, Mount Baker was shrouded in clouds and stayed that way for most of the day. All the other thousands of mountains showcased themselves in all their splendor, but the Great White One played hard to get. It felt like we played peek a boo with this famous mountain all day, until it finally revealed itself to us in the evening, when we cooked dinner by our camp. In the meantime, we had fun, my boys and I, romping in gorgeous meadows, looking for bugs, staring at the sea of mountains around us.

We made it up to the first knoll.

Looking at bugs.

Waiting for the clouds to lift off Mount Baker.  It's getting there!

Our camp site, looking at Mount Baker, finally cloud free.

Dinner with a view.

We couldn't have timed this trip better, because the moon was full that night, and it rose over Mount Shuksan in the East, while at the same time, the sun set in the west. It felt like we were at a tennis match as we sat on the ridge and watched this spectacle. Back and forth our heads swiveled to the East, where the moon came up over Shuskan, and then back to the West, where the sun sank into the mountain range there. I cannot try to convey with words this beauty and the feeling in my heart while witnessing this ancient ritual while my boys were snuggled around me. It reminded me of looking your newborn baby in the face for the first time, or of the way your heart feels open after spending some special time with your beloved.

I am so grateful for my ever-supportive husband Steve, who is a true wilderness man, and who understands how important this time with my boys and nature is to me.  He stays home with little Eva, who can't attempt such a trip (yet), and he takes care of the homestead, the goats, pigs, chickens and ducks while the rest of his family gets to romp in the mountains.  Don't worry - I give him HIS time as well, and once hunting season comes around, I will take care of our charges while he stalks through the wilderness with his bow and arrows.

I also feel very blessed to have friends and neighbors that enable us to go away like that.  I know that they competently will milk the goats and take care of our critters when we are gone, and I trust them completely.  To me, this is worth more than a whole bag of gold!

Backpacking adventure with my sons

This week I did something I have never done before. I took my eight and ten year old sons backpacking in the wilderness. No Daddy, no three year old sister to annoy them. Just Mama and the boys... and a sea of mountains. Apart from fearing for our lives during a fierce thunderstorm in the middle of the night, the trip was a huge success – a memory I will treasure for the rest of my life (and I hope they will, too).

Back in my wild motorcycle and hang gliding days, eager for adventure and solitude, I hiked and slept on mountain tops by myself often. This hike with my boys felt so different than those solitary experiences of my youth. For starters, would you believe how much food you have to lug on your back when you try to feed two growing boys? Wisely, I had packed many snacks for them, knowing they would come in handy for bribes when the boys' energy ran low. I don't know how many pounds of yogurt covered pretzels, trail mix, and granola bars they consumed on this trip, but I do know that after a mile of hiking, these extras felt mighty heavy!

We started out Tuesday morning, loaded with heavy backpacks. We all carried our fair share.   

Posing for the camera with our heavy packs before leaving home.  Here, we are still smiling.

We drove one hour East to Cutthroat Pass trail head.  I chose this hike because the first couple of miles to Cutthroat Lake are fairly easy, and from there, you can hike up to the pass.  The trail starts over a bridge and meanders through forest, which gave us beautiful views of the surrounding mountains.  The boys did great carrying their heavy packs, although they didn't fit us right at all.  My shoulders got bruised during these first miles, since I used Steve's old backpack.  Kai's pack didn't fit him properly either, since his hips aren't big enough for the hip strap.

Since the weather forecast predicted possible thunderstorms, and since our packs were such a pain, we decided to set up camp at the lake and then hike up the pass after lunch.  We found a perfect camp spot by a bubbling stream.

Starting the hike by the bridge.

We took many breaks to rest our poor backs and shoulders.

Walking over a log bridge close to our camp site.

Our scenic tent site.

After we devoured our sandwiches and pounds of treats, we headed up the mountain.  It was a typical hot East side day.  I had thought we would reach the pass after just two miles, but since I didn't bring the hiking book (additional weight!), I didn't know for sure.  It felt more than two miles, and the boys complained enough to make me realize this hike was longer than I had expected.  When we hiked out the next day, I read the trail description, and it said the hike up was  almost four miles, with considerable elevation gain in a short period of time.  So when the day was done, we had hiked ten miles!
With enough yogurt covered pretzels, my cheerleading, and the promise of going to the Twisp pool and bakery the next day, we made it up to the pass.  And - oh - what a view!  There were snow fields to roll our sweaty bodies in.

Up, up, up we go.  No pain, no gain.

Finally, the pass is in sight!

Do we look hot and sad?  I actually was blissed out the whole time!

You can see the tiny lake down there.

When we rested on the broad saddle that is teetering on the demarcation zone between the wet west and the dry east, clouds started rolling in.  Nice, fluffy clouds at first, but as the hours passed, they got darker.  Was this the precursor to the dreaded thunder storms I was so afraid of?
As we hiked down (Kai and Lukas being much more cheerful and talkative now), I felt my legs and knees being more and more ready to be done with hiking, wanting to soak themselves in the cold stream by our campsite.  And this is just what happened.  Once back by the tent, we soaked our feet, pumped fresh, cold water through the water purifier for immediate drinking, and then we headed to the lake for some "fishing".  The boys had looked forward to this event since we started the hike, and so we found ourselves dangling the fishing pole into the shallow lake, with small fish darting around it.  Of course, the boys didn't catch anything, but they had fun trying.

Tired and hungry, we headed back to camp, made some split pea soup, and played Black Jack (a sneaky way to get the boys to practice math).  The whole time, mosquitoes swarmed around us, but didn't bite because of the herbal bug repellent we slathered ourselves with every fifteen minutes.  They were plenty annoying, though, which made us retreat into the tent at 9:30.  Once horizontal, I couldn't keep my eyes open, and the boys soon followed my lead.
The whole night, intermittent rain drops fell onto our tent, but not until just before dawn did the storm break loose.  Lightning lit up the inside of the tent, and thunder shook the mountain.  Lukas sat up disoriented and asked how thunder could be so loud.  Kai slept through it all.
I have always been a terrible wuss when it comes to thunder and lightning.  Alone with my kids on this mountain, different scenarios ran through my head.  Should we squat on our sleeping mats to insulate ourselves?  Should I throw the water bottle out of the tent, in case the lightning would be attracted to it?  Were the tent stakes made out of metal?
Lukas had fallen asleep again next to me, and I held on to him (more for my sake than for his). Eventually, the nightmare passed, and I caught a few more hours of sleep.  In the morning, we packed up our soaking tent and backpacks we had hung into a tree, and headed down the mountain to get our breakfast at the famous Cinnamon Twisp Bakery.
As we hiked down, the boys trotted ahead of me, merrily chatting with one another.  My heart was so full of gratitude and love for these two beings.  I realized that these days and years are numbered.  The years when they still think that I am a cool person.  The days when they are their young and innocent selves, before hormones hit and make life so complicated.  These years when their lives are so intertwined, when they are each others' best friend.
Later in the day, we cooled off at the Twisp pool and ate ice cream in Winthrop.  I love summer.  I hope you love yours, too!

Can you see the dirt and dust on his face?  This was after backpacking and obviously before the pool.