Come Along

Come along and hike with me;
Share the wonder of what we see.

We’ll take to trails both far and near,
To mountains high and lakes so clear.

See meadows awash in every hue;
assaulted by yellow, orange and blue.

Stand beneath trees immeasurably tall,
their lofty boughs high above us all.

Listen to the songs of the forest deep,
of birds and frogs and babbling creek.

We’ll wander trails that animals share,
our footprints among the deer and bear.

Along ridgetops to mountain peaks,
through forests dense and canyons deep.

Stare in awe at a river grand,
and marvel at God’s wondrous hand.

So, come along and hike with me;
Share the wonder of what we’ll see.

~Kristi Feddock

2016 - A Look Back

December 31, 2016


I sit in a motel room in Cle Elum with my sister and granddaughter, Cupcake, and our dog Zillah. Down the hall in a room of their own are Andrea and Evie. Zillah is snoring contentedly away on the bed next to Heidi, who is working on her own blog, while 7-year old Cupcake slumbers next to me. In the relaxing quiet of the evening, I can't help but reflect back on my year.


This year I accepted a 52-hike challenge. The goal is to get people outside once a week. It sounds easy - until you consider I live in an area where it rains. A lot. Historically more a 'fair weather' hiker, I forced myself to go outside and play in the rain. As my mother assured me on more than one occasion, I wasn't going to melt. Covering my 52 hikes led me on an adventure where I explored 32 new trails and hiked 58 in total. I climbed up 13 mountains, taking me to four new summits. I left bootprints on 339 miles of trail, and ascended 68,703 feet of elevation. The majority of these miles where shared with friends, many who were new to hiking. Introducing them to the pastime and watching them grow was one of the highlights of my year.


2016 also took me on a multi-day trek into the Buckhorn Wilderness of the Olympics, where I faced new challenges and pushed my body's endurance. This trip revealed areas of strength I don't always see within myself, and pointed out some weaknesses I need to work on. It was quality time spent with my sister, whom I treasure more than she will ever know (or that I'm likely to openly admit). The trip was made more special by sharing it with friends Evie and Holly.


August saw me ascend to the top of Mount St Helens for the third time. Standing on the rim of the crater with my sister was a memorable event. As I stared down into the crater, I was astonished how much the dome has grown since I first looked down on it four years ago. I was humbled, as always, at the amazing forces of nature at work. Seeing her recover from such a devastating event as her 1980 eruption, restructuring and re-growing, serves as a reminder that, no matter what life throws at me, I can do the same. We are connected, St Helens and I. She humbles me. It was also on this trip that I stumbled on some loose scree and fell a few feet down the boulder field. I was fortunate that my sister was there with me - between the two of our cool heads and combined first aid kits, we were able to calmly patch me up and get me safely off the mountain.


I love sharing my love of nature, the outdoors and hiking. This year, for her seventh birthday, I took Cupcake on her first overnight pack trip. When you find yourself taking life for granted, look at it through the eyes of a child. The ordinary and mundane become fascinating and exciting. Run. Laugh. Play. Get sand in your butt-crack. Take off your shoes and bury your feet in sand, wriggle your toes in the mud. Splash in puddles. Poke the anemones. We only get one life - we should enjoy every minute of it.


Life isn't spent looking in the rearview mirror, so I turned my focus forward to 2017. I am excited about my plans for the new year. My goals for the year include:

• Accomplish the 52-hike challenge for a second year
• Meet a trail mileage goal of 500 miles
• Explore and play, learn, expand my knowledge of the outdoors
• Continue helping people reconnect with themselves and the natural world through hiking
• Spend more time sleeping under the stars
• Backpack a portion of the John Muir Trail through Yosemite with my sister
  and, lastly...
• Live.

I breath deeply, snuggle up to my granddaughter and fall asleep to awaken in the new year. I am ready.

Rampart Ridge

December 17, 2016




Icicles at Longmire

Winter is upon us in the Pacific Northwest. With winter comes snow in the mountains (where we prefer it stays) and I trade in my hiking boots for snowshoes. I have typically stuck to the easier snowshoe routes in years past due to the technical level of my snowshoes. Last spring, however, I was fortunate enough to win a pair of my dream backcountry snowshoes. This means that I am now able to branch out a little and expand my skill level on  more difficult routes. Located in the Longmire area of Mount Rainier, Rampart Ridge was the perfect route for this. Also ready to stretch their wings, I was joined by Evie, Andrea and her friend Jason.   

But first ... Fishers. 

Fishers are a housecat sized member of the weasel family, the larger cousin to the martin and mink. By the early 1900's, their numbers had been totally eliminated in Washington State by over-trapping and loss of habitat. In 1998 they were placed on the endangered species list. There is currently a multi-year project under way to reintroduce fishers to the Cascades. They are being captured in British Columbia, given a vet check, logged and implanted with a transponder (about the size of a roll of Rolo candy) then released into the wild. Each animal will claim a territory of about 35 square kilometers and it is hoped that they will return to the general area of their release to mate. Serendipitously, they were releasing six fishers at Longmire the morning we came to snowshoe. Although it would set us behind schedule, we chose to participate in the release. What an incredible, once-in-a-lifetime experience. We joined the small parade, helping to carry the wooden crates to the release point. Obscured from view behind trees, we watched as the biologists helped the kids in attendance open the crates and release the animals into the wild, one by one. Each fisher tested the air, then darted out of the crate and off into the woods, their release met with quiet cheers and applause.

The release of the fishers done, we returned to the truck, donned our gear and headed off into the woods ourselves, albeit in a different direction.

I love wandering the woods in wintertime. The snow blankets the ground, hushing the world so the forest can sleep. The depth of the dark colors are magnified by the stark white colorlessness of the snow. The tracks of deer, snowshoe hares and other forest denizens remind us that we aren't alone. I am filled with childlike wonder and warmed by memories of winters past. Occasionally I can feel my mother walking alongside me, and can almost feel my hand in hers. Rampart Ridge, although a longer and more difficult route than I had taken to date, brought all this to the plate ... and more.


The trail started across the street from the lodge at Longmire, carrying us on rolling terrain through snow-covered meadows, past an old cabin and mineral springs. We were officially on the 'Trail of Shadows' at this point - with the low lying clouds diffusing any direct light, it was very appropriately named. We reached the junction with our trail and left the easy portion of our trip behind. It was here that the trail began a steady and somewhat steep 1,200 foot climb to the top of the ridge. I haven't done much elevation on my recent hikes and I was feeling the effects as my lungs and legs strained to carry me up the trail. I stopped frequently to catch my breath. The trail was easy to follow through the snow, which allowed me to enjoy more of the scenery surrounding me.


We came to a viewpoint that overlooked the Longmire area below us. It was here we realized just how far we had climbed in the last 1.5 miles - the lodge looked like a tiny Christmas diorama.

Longmire area from atop Rampart Ridge

We traversed the ridge a few hundred yards until we intersected the Wonderland Trail. The Wonderland is a 93 mile long trail that wraps all the way around Mount Rainier. For our needs this day it would lead us back to the lodge, creating a loop route. The sun began setting as we made our way down the trail, casting the forest into darkness. The light of our headlamps and what moonlight that filtered through the trees reflected off the snow, illuming our way for us. We could hear a small stream to our left, quietly flowing through snow-covered banks. Aside from that and the sounds of our snowshoes crunching through the surface, the quiet was absolute. The trail was, in places, very steep, giving us the opportunity to test the traction of our snowshoes. The lodge was warmly aglow from yellow lights, our truck the lone vehicle in the lot. We all felt good about the day's adventure and our accomplishments. It was a grand day spent on a grand mountain. 

Hike 58 - final hike of the year.
Distance: 4.5 milesElevation gain: 1200'
Max elevation achieved: 4050'   

Franklin Falls

December 14, 2016

Giant Floating Marshmallows (photo credit: Jen M.)

A much needed mid-week day off was spent clicking another hike off my bucket list - Franklin Falls.

Located just a stone's throw off Interstate 90, a dozen or so miles outside of North Bend, you can find the 109 foot final drop of three-tiered Franklin Falls (the first two tiers are obscured from view). Although classified a 'cascade' style waterfall, during the winter months it veils out into an impressive ice show. It was this ice show I was in pursuit of. Due to it's winter reputation, the ease of the trail, and its close proximity to Seattle, this is an extremely popular destination - thus my decision to head out on a weekday.


The road to the trailhead is cleared only a small portion of the way. Not knowing exactly what conditions lay ahead, my trail partner, Jen, and I parked at the bottom and started walking the three miles of roadway. We were about 1/3 of the way up when two young men in a 4wd picked us up. Fun guys - they were headed up to climb the ice flow in preparation for a spring ascent of Denali. We bounced, jostled and laughed in the backseat as they bombed their way up the bumpy, snowy road. Once at the trailhead they packed up their gear as we strapped on our snowshoes to start the quick trek to the falls, and we parted ways.

 

photo credit: Jen M.

The snow on the trail was fairly compacted most of the way up. Plenty of visitors were attempting it in snow boots and hiking boots (there was even one idiot up there in sneakers) and there were places where they had post-holed down over a foot into the snow. We passed a few who were struggling to gain footing as they slipped and slid up/down the trail. The trail is only about a mile in length (one-way) but must have seemed much longer to those without proper gear. I was very thankful for my snowshoes! All around us was a beautiful, thick forest with an occasional seasonal cabin tucked in under the boughs. The blanket of snow was broken by the meandering South Fork Snoqualmie River, which contained snow covered boulders that looked like giant marshmallows. Other than the sound of our snowshoes and the quietly flowing water, no sounds could be heard. The silence was bliss.  

  

Winter wonderland

Once we had reached the falls, I was awestruck. Franklin Falls was resplendent. The icicles formed by the mist from the falls 'flowed' over the surrounding cliffs and boulders, giving the impression of a curtain of ice. The water of the falls themselves flowed freely, the white of its flow contrasting with the blue of the ice. There was a layer of light blue ice partially covering the dark blue of the pool at the bottom. The colors of the ice and waters were in sharp contrast to the grays of the cliff walls, and greens and browns of the forest. The wind here was strong, bitingly cold and blew spray from the waterfall, which froze as soon as it landed on us. Jen's long hair had little ice strands peeking out from beneath her hat. We watched with fascination as Forrest and Thatcher, the young men who gave us the ride up, began their ascent of the ice flow. The bitterness of the cold chilled us, despite our layers, so we didn't linger too long. 

photo credit: Jen M.

 

Ice Climbers prepare for their ascent

Franklin Falls

Back at the trailhead our adventure continued. A Bronco full of young folks was stuck in the snow. We threw our shoulders into the task at hand and helped to push them out. In return, they asked if we'd like a ride back to our car, an offer we weren't about to turn down. We made it less than a mile when we came to a backup - a family on the way up in their Acura were seriously stuck and were blocking the narrow road in both directions. From reports, they had been there an hour. Although they had all-wheel drive, they were unprepared for winter driving conditions - no snow tires, no chains, no sand ... in fact, my car was the only one up there that had any of that, and it's a Mustang! Nonetheless, we helped get him down to a point where a young man with a winch-equipped Jeep could tow him down the road, and everyone was once again on their way. Our adventure ended after what seemed an eternity when we arrived back at the car ... which the snowplow had managed to barricade in.

The trip to Franklin Falls was a wonderful way to spend a mid-week 'mental health' day. The falls didn't disappoint, leaving me with a spectacular memory I won't soon forget.

photo credit: Jen M.

Hike 57
Distance: 3 miles
Elevation gain: 400'
Max Elevation Achieved: 2,600'

 

Olympic Discovery Trail / Sequim State Park

December 11, 2016


The snow has been falling in the mountains and I have been itching all year to break in my new snowshoes. Every time I look towards the mountains, I see the fresh snows accumulating and I yearn to go play outside. I had been working some extra hours at work, so a Saturday finally came where I could escape the shackles of my adult life and get outdoors. I was joined by Andrea and Carla for a snowshoe adventure up in the Hurricane Ridge area of the Olympics. When we arrived, however, the road conditions were hazardous and a severe winter storm warning had been issued for the ridge. Although at a lower elevation, the roadway to our Plan B destination wasn't much better. Since we were in the neighborhood of Sequim Bay State Park and the Olympic Discovery Trail, we totally switched gears, foregoing snowshoeing altogether. Enter Plan C...

The Olympic Discovery Trail is a wide, paved trail that currently covers roughly 75 miles of lowlands and shorelines along the northern coast of the Olympic Peninsula. When fully completed, it will span 130 miles, from Port Townsend to the Pacific Ocean. We parked our cars and headed out for a leisurely stroll along a mile-long section of the trail. We wandered through a lightly forested area before the trail carried us down to an area overlooking the tranquil waters of Sequim Bay. The skies were overcast, but hinted at the beauty hidden under their gray veil.

Once our walk had brought us back to our cars, we drove into Sequim for a delicious lunch then headed home.

Hike 56.
Distance hiked: 2 miles 

 

Upper Dungeness River

11/26/2016


The Upper Dungeness River Trail has become an almost magical place for me. Something unique and enchanting can be experienced along the trail with each passing season. To wander the trail alongside the river feels ethereal, almost whimsical and at times dreamlike. I have watched the river change in color and intensity, its personality transforming with the seasons, and experienced the forest as it has cycled through its own seasonal transformations.

Upper Dungeness River in winter

The original plan for the long Thanksgiving weekend had been a three-day pack trip along the Upper Dungeness River to Camp Handy. With the issuance of a winter storm warning for the mountains, we decided to swap our backpacks for daypacks instead. Our merry little band today consisted of myself, Evie, Cupcake, and dogs Zillah & Jax. I love hiking with my granddaughter. She carries with her the jubilance and enthusiasm of a seven-year old, and a sense of adventure that mirrors my own. She sees things through glittery, rose-colored glasses and could probably put a positive spin on biting the head off a beetle. She's just that awesome. This trip, however, would test her mettle.


Our adventure started out on a cold, dreary and overcast Saturday. There were only two other vehicles in a normally full parking lot, which meant we would almost have the forest to ourselves. We layered our raincoats over our fleece, grabbed gloves, leashed up the dogs and headed up the trail. We hadn't gone far before we encountered the first of many streamlets that would need to be crossed. By the time we had crossed a half dozen of them, Cupcake's feet were wet. Water-resistant boots only work in water that's not deeper than your boots are tall. By now a steady drizzle had begun and we were glad we had raingear. Before long the trail became a rapidly flowing stream of water that was a few inches deep in places. We splashed our way up the trail, skirting the water off-trail where necessary. The dogs, meanwhile, had been let off-leash and were romping up and down the trail, staying within easy recall distance and having a great time. 

Cupcake & Zillah at the river's edge

We were about 1/3 of the way up the trail when we encountered the first of the snow. At first it was just on the sides of the trail. Soon it was heavy enough that it mixed with all the water on the trail, meaning we were now sloshing through a few inches of slush. I was worried that Cupcake's feet were going to get too cold as they were already wet. When I suggested we turn around, Cupcake asked if we could please try pushing on to the shelter at Camp Handy. By the time we reached the bridge crossing the river, we were walking on compact snow and I could tell Cupcake was starting to get cold. We forged forward another 1/4 mile, but now daylight and the worsening rain became an issue. Evie and I made the decision to turn around for safety. We found a log where we could sit for some hot cocoa and a quick snack before heading back down.




Cupcake straddling the water rushing down the trail

Evie makes her way across the snow-covered footbridge

As we began our return trip, the rain turned into a light snow. Cupcake found it magical to be hiking along in it. We reached the car as the last of the day's light faded into evening and the snow began falling in earnest. The road that was clear on our trip up wore a sheet of snow for our trip down.

I have never been more proud of my granddaughter than I was this day. From her coat down she was soaked to the skin. Her wool socks were so wet that I wrung them out. I stripped her down and put her into dry clothes, layered on some warm coats and wrapped her shivering little body in blankets. Not once did Cupcake complain about being cold. Nary a whimper nor protest was heard. She toughed it out like the trail princess she is. On a trail as magical as this one, she could have slain a dragon...

Hike 55
Distance: 6.2 miles
Elevation gain, 600'  

   

Clear Creek

November 25, 2016


I hate Black Friday. I don't like dealing with crowds of nasty people, and I stood in more than enough lines in the military. Instead of fueling the greedy bottom line of corporate America. I, instead, prefer to put all the madness behind me and head outdoors. In past years I have gone paddling, wandered our beaches for some meditation and beachcombing, and climbed a mountain. This year I opted to take my granddaughter, Cupcake, on a short hike. Our original plans were thwarted by a subpar weather forecast (winter storm warning), so we resorted to our backup plan - 'hiking' the Clear Creek Trail in Silverdale.

By the time we arrived at the trailhead, the sun was shining brightly. (eyes rolling) Go figure. We laughed, chatted with our friend Evie, who was just leaving the trail, then began our mini-adventure. The Clear Creek Trail is an urban trail that winds through a small wetlands where you can often see many variety of birds, butterflies and dragonflies. Over the past decade I have watched it transform as trees and shrubs have been planted, natural water habitats restored, pathways added and benches built for peaceful viewing. A portion of the way is a gravel trail whereas the remainder of the trail is a nicely built boardwalk over the water. Educational boards are placed periodically along the route.

Cupcake and I walked in about half way, then stopped at a picnic bench to savor the beauty of the day. I hauled out our new JetBoil stove to heat water for hot cocoa, and we enjoyed some string cheese and grapes for our snack. She chatted with other 'hikers' and we giggled over girl things while sipping our hot cocoa. A few wintering birds flitted about the trees, pip-pip-pipping their greetings. We packed our things up, making sure we left no trace, and headed back to the car, our adventure done for the day. Although the skies were still clear at that point, we knew a storm was on the way and we wanted to be home before it blew in. 

Hike 54.
Distance: 1.5 miles
Elevation gain: ~20'