Loopsadaisy!

Passing the point of no return.  That's what happened on this 3 mile turned 9 mile hike.  Poor Jewell--she thought she was going to get home in time to work in the yard. (At this time of year, whenever there is actually sun outside, that's all us Northwester's can think to do.  We know if we pass up a lawn mowing day for fun, we may have a jungle on our hands when the next chance rolls around. It's sad, really)  But I talked her into doing something quick and local; a beautiful drive up Chuckanut and just a stroll to Lost Lake, turn around come back, be home before 2:30. 


But there's something about turning around and going back the way I just came that really rubs me the wrong way.  So after we sat in the sun and ate our snack on Lost Lake (literally on the lake...we had to crawl out on a log to be in the sun, and like I just said, if the sun is out around here, you do whatever it takes to be in it) and it was time to either turn around and go back OR keep going and do the whole loop...we thought, let's just go a little farther.  Maybe there will be a spot where we can cut across and shorten the loop. (From the map, it looked like it would be so easy.  Unfortunately, this map didn't show the sheer wall of rock that ran along the entire length of the loop...that would be the RIDGE making it the "Chuckanut Ridge Trail". Seems like maybe I should have figured that out earlier.)



So we went a little bit farther...and a little bit farther...and then we realized we were 'all in'.  We kept looking at the map and saying "well, if we are here, then it shouldn't be too far to get there"...not realizing how NOT to scale this map was.  And there was no signs with any sort of mileage on them, so we just kept going.  And even though I'll admit that this trail kicked by butt, it also made me remember why I love hiking so much.  Nature is so beautiful, and there's that excitement to see what's just around the corner.


When we came to the first waterfall, I gasped. (scared Jewell to death...she was certain a bear was going to be charging toward us) Wouldn't you know, this is when my camera battery died.  I SO wanted a picture, and even considered coming back later when my camera was working.  (that was before my butt was completely kicked...I will have to be in much better shape before I feel up to tackling this hike again) So I cheated and got a picture online instead, which I don't think really does it justice.

  Then we came to our second waterfall, which was possibly even more amazing then the first. (Another online picture..."Mossy Falls" is what it's called.  Creative name, right? ;)

But my favorite moment, and the part that made my day was when an owl swooped down in front of us.  Of course I've seen owls at the zoo before, so it doesn't seem like seeing one in it's own environment should be that big a deal.  But it was a big deal, and even more-- it was magical. (looking up a picture of an owl online is definitely not going to capture that, so I won't bother ;) 

I also wanted to mention an intriguing couple we passed going the opposite direction and got to chatting with.  He was on the board of directors (or something like that) for a National trail I had never heard of..."The Pacific Northwest Trail".  So far it runs all the way from the Olympic Peninsula to the middle of Montana, with plans to connect it with other trails to eventually make a coast to coast through trail.  We just happened to be on a part of it when we ran into them.  Here is a link for anyone wanting to know more:  http://www.pnt.org/trail.html 

I'm not proud of how I ended this hike.  The last hour or so felt like one of those nightmare car trips where the kids keep asking, "Are we there yet"...except I was the whiny kid. But Jewell kept a great attitude--even though her yard work was put on hold AND her knees were starting to give her problems.  (To the extent that whenever she was going downhill she had to keep her knees from bending...and how did I support her?  By telling her she looked like a hiking Frankenstein.  How do I still have friends?) 

 I was overjoyed when the trail finally started heading down to where I was SURE the car was parked when Jewell turned around and said, "What if this is wrong, and this isn't actually going to the parking lot, but just to the road which leads UP to the parking lot", to which I replied, "Then I will sit down and cry".  But thankfully, when we got to the ROAD (and not the parking lot) there just happened to be young man driving down just at that time; and yes, I did not hesitate to flag him down and beg him to drive us up to our car.  "You've done your good deed for the day/ your mother should be so proud/ you've saved our lives" we cooed the entire mile and half back up the road. (A mile and half that felt like twenty and would have surely turned me from whiny kid into full blown pain in the ass)  And since we survived such an ordeal, we decided to treat ourselves to a wonderful late lunch at the Rhododendron Cafe on the way home, which was divine.  So here's to Jewell, who sacrificed her yard and knees to spend a day hiking with this less than valiant friend.  

A Devil's Mountain Morning

Saturday mornings are not my favorite.  It's probably because the kids are not in school, and they are usually just laying around like lumps.  This last Saturday was particularly bad-- I know when I'm throwing the clothes in the dryer and slamming it shut, or bursting into tears at the kitchen sink (or in this case, both) I can possibly chalk it up to hormones...but I still hate it.  Because my inner critic is saying things that if I'm honest I have to admit, hormones or not, have some truth to them.  But it's the brutality of the accusations that really get to me.  "It's your fault your kids have no ambition...you haven't been any sort of example. You never make them clean up after themselves...no wonder they are such slobs.  If you were just a better mother, maybe they'd have a chance at success, but as it is..." and I have no strength to defend myself, just tears and despair.


So on that happy note, I decided to go on a hike.  Ken caught me crying before I left and gave me the manly advice not to "freak anybody out" while I was hiking.  ("Watch out, here comes a hysterical woman!  Run for your lives!")  So I choose a hike where I would spare the public my dramatics...it's only ten minutes away and not many people hike there because, like my thoughts, the trail is quite ugly.  What a better place to throw a grand pity party than Devil's Mountain?
It's really just a service road--gravely, weedy, without many pretty trees or wildflowers, and steep as well. 

And as I huffed and puffed and sobbed along,  I tried to figure out how I was going to be a better role model to my kids. Get up at 6:00am every morning and hike this stupid mountain...that shows self discipline.  Never take another drink...that shows self control.  Go back to school...that shows self reliance.  Self, self, self.  Meanwhile my dog Lexi bounced along, enjoying the smells, the puddles, chasing the birds...living and enjoying just being what she was created to be. 

Dang, sometimes I really resent being human.  But then I got to the top, and ohhhhhh...the mountains, the valley, the farms, the ocean and islands.  Such beauty.  So bigger than my despair and guilt and shaming thoughts.  Bigger than my fears.  Can I not trust the Creator of such loveliness to lead me when He promises He cares for me?

I told a friend of mine that "God is bigger than our mistakes", and then reminded her that God's strength is made perfect in weakness.  Do I really believe it?  I'm trying--when my hormones will let me :)  


So as I made my way back down I prayed and asked some hard questions.  "Am I a problem drinker?"  I decided when I got home I would get online and look up A.A.  (they actually have a 'test' that if you answer yes to 5 or more questions you can consider yourself an alcoholic...that was one test I was thankful to fail)  I prayed about going back to school; even though money's tight, maybe an online course here and there is doable.  Hiking Devil's Mountain everyday?  Let's face it, there's no way in hell that's going to happen. (pun intended ;)  I was deep in my thoughts ("Kelly's world" as my neighbor calls it.  I never wave when we pass in our cars because I'm often stuck there) and you wouldn't believe what happened.  I managed to get lost.  (which is pretty difficult to do, considering it's a ROAD)  Kinda ironic, huh?  But unlike usual, I didn't panic.  I didn't beat myself up. (well, maybe a little.  The road goes down...how hard can that be?)  I didn't obsess over the time I wasted. (just more exercise, right?)  I just turned around and tried to find where I had gone wrong.  And eventually I did--there was a Y in the road I hadn't noticed.  Lessons learned...sometimes it takes getting lost to find them.

Going Off Trail...Proceed With Caution

My last post got me thinking, and even though I'm pretty nervous about it, I've decided to post these thoughts...perhaps against my better judgement.   As I was re-reading my "hiking lessons" (especially the last one that said to "never go off trail, no matter how tempting")  I kept hearing the voice of my critics..."See, rules are important! You can't just say, 'it's not about the rules', because somebody's going to end up falling off a cliff!".  (for anyone just coming in, you'll have to read "Night in the Gas Chamber", where I bring up some spiritual issues concerning rules) 


Side note here: yes, the 'voice of my critics' are certain people I love whom I imagine would think this.  I understand imaginations of how people are thinking are dangerous, because they are often inaccurate...but you have to admit we all do this whether we should or not.  So I'm offering a defense (hopefully not defensively) to my opponents. (real or imaginary)  So from this point on be warned...we are going off the trail of humorous hiking fodder, and headed for the treacherous ground of religious doctrine and possible heresy.


First of all, I never meant to convey that rules are not important. But what I wish people would consider more is, why are they important?  Rules are for protection, are they not?  I give rules to my kids to protect them from harm, and so they won't harm others.  Lessons, on the other hand, are about understanding.  In my opinion, it's better to understand the 'why' behind a rule, in case a situation arises when the rule is not serving it's purpose and needs to be broken.  For example, let's say I tell my kids, "don't go in the pool today", because maybe I just put a boatload of chlorine in there and I know it will hurt their skin if they go in.  Maybe my child jumps in anyway...maybe because it's just so hot, and they don't think the chlorine's a big deal.  Yes, I get mad...but because they didn't trust me and now they are hurt.  I didn't ask them to stay out of the pool to earn my love, I asked them because I love them.  Now say the dog falls in the pool and is drowning.  One child understands it's more important to jump in and get a skin rash than let the dog drown.  The other kid, who only cares about following the rule so as not to get in trouble, not only does not jump in, but actually feels superior to the child that jumped in because he 'disobeyed'.  Which kid am I mad at now?


I understand why people want to clarify the rules and always have them in black and white.  We want clear directions so we won't screw up.  And we understand the danger of 'following your heart', because our hearts are deceitful and have led us astray many times.  But listen to what God promises us,
"A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you...and I will cause you to walk in my statues...I will also save you from all your uncleanliness".(Ezekiel 36:26)
I do need to follow this new heart, and trust it and rest in the assurance that God is the one who is saving me, not me saving myself by following rules.


I think it's pretty obvious I'm not all worked up over this rule thing just so I can drink alcohol without guilt.  There is a much, much bigger rule issue in my life, and it's time to just lay it out there.  My daughter is a lesbian.  And everyone can tell me "oh, we love Amber...we just hate her sin", but I really wish they would consider more carefully what they are saying.  Why do they hate her sin?  What about her sin makes them so disgusted?  Because she harms herself?  Because she harms others?  "Because the Bible says it's a sin".  Well, the Bible also says a woman who divorces and remarries is living in adultery.  I don't go around telling my remarried friends that I "love them, but hate their sin".  If I was to make a point of letting them know I didn't "approve" of their second marriages, or that my marriage and love for my husband was valid and theirs was sinful, but then expect them not to feel offended, judged and hurt because "I still love them"...well, I'm sorry, but I don't think that would fly. 


I understand my family and friends are not intending to hurt Amber or me, and so much of my anger is born from defensiveness and I know I need to (and in a large part I have) let go of it.  But there is another anger in me that I'm not sure what to make of.  It's a frustration, a deep desire, to help people see God does not get angry because of His ego ('How dare they not believe in me!  How dare they disobey! Well, I'll show them who's boss, just you wait!") but because of His love and desire to save. (And if you insert "from sin" instead of "eternal punishment" as the thing we are being saved from, the scriptures make a lot more sense in my opinion...but that's a whole nother ball of wax.  In case anyone wants to think about it though, here is a question: how can a punishment have no beginning?  Eternal means no beginning and no end, so how can that be the correct translation in the few scriptures that refer to eternal punishment?)


Maybe it doesn't seem to you that these two issues are related, but I think they are.  If people didn't believe that God was going to ultimately reject my daughter because of her unwillingness to repent (instead of just discipline her for her own good...if she is indeed breaking one of the only two laws that really matter; loving God and others) then maybe they wouldn't feel such a great need to disapprove of her 'lifestyle choice', and just let God be her judge.   And wouldn't it be great to trust that all of God's judgements against us and our loved ones, (even the painful ones) will ultimately result in a positive change? (i.e. When your judgments come upon the earth, the people of the world learn righteousness. Is.26:9)


I'm going to end here with an excerpt from my journal.  In the passage I mention, Jesus heals a man on the Sabbath, which broke a big rule. (one of the top 10)  I know it's easy for us in this day and age to understand "of course it's not a sin to do something good on the Sabbath!"  But in that time and place, and to the religious authority watching, Jesus displayed only one thing...disobedience.  And Jesus still choose to heal, even though it meant "right away they started making plans to kill him".  So here is my journal entry:
 Jesus was angry as he looked around at the people.  Yet he felt sorry for them becasue they were so stubborn. (Mark 3:5)  Why do people always think anger has to be so hateful?  Maybe because our anger is usually hateful--or at best condescending.  Clearly God's anger can be compassionate, as Jesus so beautifully demonstrates.  He is the perfect demonstration of God's attributes in human form.  How amazing!  I am so confused by my anger.  It's mostly so wrapped up in selfishness that it always seems sinful to me.  But I don't think I can be a healthy person until I learn how to express anger.  It's good to know I should also feel sorry for the people who make me angry.  "Lord, I'm so thankful your changing my heart to be like your heart.  Help me understand Your anger, so I can learn what healthy anger is.  Amen."

Chain Lakes Ending--Finally

Yes, I know it's sad, but this post is finally going to wrap up the Chain Lakes saga. After Mel and I got all settled in our tent for the night, we just kept talking and giggling as girls will do. I don't know what time we fell asleep, but I'm guessing it was pretty late because we slept in until 8:30. I expected to be packed up and heading out by that time, so we tried to hustle. I say "tried" because everything was frozen, which tends to disable your thumbs from working properly.


This is where hiking lesson #3 and #4 come into play.  #3: you need the rain fly on even it's not raining to protect you from the frost...this we knew, but the lesson we learned is you should put it on before you start drinking, otherwise you won't be able to figure it out and you'll just drape it on, which doesn't really work but you won't care at that moment. (But you'll care in the morning!)  #4: bring your backpack in your tent so it doesn't resemble a Popsicle when you go to put it on. (Mel did this and told me to...I ignored her. Again, I think Jack Daniels may be to blame.)


Getting out of the sleeping bag was the hardest part, and we both thought that a sleeping bag that was pretty much a body suit that you can wear while you pack up would be a great idea. (Would somebody get on that please? Call the Snuggie company :))

Our saving grace was that it was an absolutely beautiful day, so even though I hate being cold, it was hard to be cranky. As we were making our way back to the main trail it was shocking to me how totally different everything looked, and it was actually even more difficult to stay on the right path. I'm glad I wanted to take a picture of the sign I had misread when we came in, because it reminded us that we needed to "turn" in order to do the loop. Otherwise I bet we would have just kept going back the way we came, and it would have been such a shame to miss the upcoming views.

So we went back up that steep hill we took a detour on the day before, but this time we kept going...up...and up.  I must say, I greatly prefer going down, but the great thing about going up is getting to the top of something, and this was no exception. Behind us was Goat Mountain (I think :)) 

and in front was Mt. Shuksan (pretty sure),

and let me tell you, if I knew how to yodel that was the time to do it.  (Mel, you're Dutch...where was the yodeling?) Now we would be starting the decent, (hooray!) but there was one problem. Where did the trail go?  Being at the top, we could see where we were supposed to end up, but with no obvious way as to how to get there. We considered just scrambling down the rocks (it didn't look like it would be that hard) but decided to actually break out the map instead. Using the map to locate the trail...what a novel idea!

Yes, now we could see the trail was to our left, carved into the side of the mountain...way over there...and it looked boring and unsightly.  Hummm...maybe just scrambling down would be faster, and more exciting.  But remembering the "Mr. Short Cut Bones Man" (see "Not Just Whistling Dixie" blog) we decided to make our way to the real trail, and once we got there we were SO glad we did. Looking over to where we had been, we now could see how terribly steep and treacherous it was and realized what a bad idea trying to go down that way would have been. Plus the real trail was amazingly beautiful; you just couldn't tell from such a distance.

Thus we come to lesson #5: No matter how tempting, always stay on the marked trail, even if you have to backtrack or sidetrack to get there. And so we come to the end of my story; happily making it out alive and with all limbs attached, ready and awaiting future adventures. I will try to post any hikes I might do this spring, but what I'm really looking forward to is next summer when I hope to do a two nighter! Until then, happy hiking everyone!

P.S.  Coming back to read this in 2026 has been such a hoot. Crazy to look back; and also unsettling in many ways. But I just re-hiked this trail, going CCW this time, and was SHOCKED to see Mt Baker right in my face when getting to the top. I had to come back here and look, and sure enough, Baker is hidden. Here are a few pics from yesterday's hike showing what the views can look like on a clear day.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Night in the Gas Chamber

After Mel and I pitched our tent, we decided to sit down in the sun and celebrate. The previous night we were going through all the gear and trying to keep our packs down to a reasonable weight; it can be tricky deciding what is really  necessary and what isn't.

I had to laugh a little when Rick told Melissa not to pack the Top Ramen because it was too bulky, so she just smashed it up and packed it anyway. (That's what I call inventive problem solving!) After our packs were done, I sheepishly asked Mel if she thought it would be worth it to pack a flask full of a little 'somethin'-somethin' to toast our accomplishment the night of our hike.  I thought she might think I was a lush, but instead she informed me it was already packed. (Guess we were on the same page with that one!) 

I really debated about writing about that part, because I know there are those who believe you can't be serious about loving God if you also drink alcohol. I understand that viewpoint, because I once held it myself. But the longer I walk with God, the more He's convincing me of something I think the apostle Paul was also convinced of...it's not about 'the rules'. This is what I'm talking about:
 

Let love be your only debt! If you love others, you have done all that the Law demands. In the Law there are many commands, such as, "Be faithful in marriage. Do not murder. Do not steal. Do not want what belongs to others." But all of these are summed up in the command that says, "Love others as much as you love yourself." No one who loves others will harm them. So love is all that the Law demands. (Romans 13:8-10)

I understand I need to be careful with alcohol because it has the potential to do much harm, nobody would deny that.  But whether I drink it or don't drink it does not define my heart towards God or others, that's how I see it anyway. I'm learning to not worry so much if others see it differently or if they judge me, because ultimately it is God who is my judge, and only He really knows my heart and is able to change it and make it loving.  I sure am thankful for that. So, after the sun went down and the Jack Daniels was gone, it was time to explore the area as much as possible before it got dark. Unfortunately, when we got up from our little rest we found our butts to be quite wet. 

Ugh--and it was getting cold fast!  We had packed some extra clothes, so we switched our pants and put on anything extra we had. I must admit, I was not looking my cutest. I think Mel referred to this as my "clown outfit"--and it makes me wonder if  "What Not to Wear" would consider doing a hiker special.

 

After we made dinner we headed to what I will refer to now as the gas chamber. Poor Melissa, I don't know what was in that dehydrated teriyaki dinner, but I really don't think it was compatible with the human digestive system. Normally I try my best to encourage Mel to quit smoking, but that night I was begging her to light up "just one more", because even though I'm not the biggest fan of cigarette smell, anything was better that the toxic concoction that was spewing out of me. Somehow we survived the night, but I'll have to write about that next time. I promise to wrap it up then.

Chain Lakes Part 2

I’m sure most people reading this did not grow up with digital cameras; You’re all stinkin’ old like me! Have you ever had your kids ask you if TV’s were around when you were young?  Or even better—cars? I really think my youngest thinks I got around in a covered wagon or something, because after all…I didn’t even had a cell phone! So I’m sure you remember how we used to take pictures discriminately, because we only had 24 or possibly 36 frames, and then we were out of film. What a difference digital combined with gigabytes of storage has made. As Mel and I hiked Ptarmigan Ridge, we probably stopped every five minutes to take a picture. “Oh, look how pretty this flower is! Take my picture with it. Take a picture of me on this rock—now with muscles…”
 
...not exactly what you would call an aerobic workout. Needless to say, Mel starts to feel like we are not working hard enough and proclaims, “Ok, it’s time to get serious” (what is not serious about a photo shoot?  Does she not watch Top Model?) and quickens her pace…which immediately makes her foot slip so she falls smack on her “asking for it”. Debbie, if your reading this, I’m sure you can guess what a compassionate response this elicited from me. (For those of you who know Debbie, ask her about our letterboxing experience.) 


But in my defense, you have to understand I’ve watched every episode of America’s Funniest Home Video’s for the last 20 years…how can I help but be programmed to laugh at someone’s pain? Falling, getting smacked in the head, getting something stuck in your eye—this all translates to ‘hysterical’ in my messed up brain. But I’m grateful my friends all have a sense of humor, and usually don’t get too angry with me for laughing at their misfortune. My kids on the other hand…well, I’m saving up for their therapy.


Thankfully Mel wasn’t really hurt or upset, and we eventually made it back to our packs and headed to find a place to pitch our tent. The Chain Lakes…how to describe them?  Breathtaking, literally! Mel gasped when she came over a ridge and saw Iceberg Lake; I seriously thought she had twisted her ankle.
(I was 20 feet behind her, like usual)  It felt like we were in some wonderland where fairies would come out to play at any moment.    Mel was a little like Snow White; she actually had birds eating out of her hand at one point. 


Then we came to another fork in the road—and even though it had a sign saying “campsites this way, chain lakes trail that way”, my extreme navigational powers were able to transpose them. So essentially we were headed in the opposite direction we wanted to go. After about 20 minutes (straight up of course) Mel says,  “umm…this doesn’t seem right, does it?” Baffled, we decided to go back to the sign.


Once I figured out how stupid I was to not even read a sign correctly, I figured it was time to sit down and have a compass reading lesson.  I pulled out our official “Green Trails Map” and three pages of instructions I printed out on how to use a compass with it…and then pretended it all made perfect sense—no worries, now we know what to do if we get lost.
(I’m a pretty good actor, huh Melissa?)
 Now that we were going in the right direction, we finally make our way to the most remote campsite available.  (passing up two inferior sites…we had a feeling the last one would be the best, and we were right)  But it looks like I’m going to have to stretch this yet again to a whole nother post…amazing how much blabbering I can do about a single 24-hour period; imagine what 50 days is going to produce! 

Chain Lakes Loop Part 1

When Mel and I arrived at Artist Point, my stomach was in knots.  I’m not really used to doing things on my own—I was married at 18, so I’ve never really known anything about self-reliance.  But here I was…not exactly the lone ranger, but not with someone I expected to take care of things either. I don’t think Mel would be insulted by me saying that…clearly, neither of us knew what the heck we were doing; but that was kind of the beauty of it.  There was such a wonderful feeling of mutual uncertainty / excitement / misgiving…but a desire to prove ourselves as well.  Not one leading the other, but both of us wanting this experience as equals; that’s what I appreciated the most.  But when we stepped out of that car and it was frickin’ freezing, I was really wondering if we had made a serious mistake.  We looked at each other with the same thought on our faces—“This is a lot colder than I expected”.  We put on every extra item of clothing that was in the car. (Thank you Jamie for forgetting your coat the week prior.)

I was trying so hard to be ‘prepared’… I thought it would be a good idea to hide an extra key with the car—just in case. As we set it on the front bumper, it fell down into who knows where—oblivion apparently, because we never found it.  So typical…and not exactly something to instill confidence;  but we headed out with much apprehension anyway. 

We discussed gear for a while…her gear that is, because everything I was using belonged to her family.  To my benefit, her husband had not learned hiking lesson #2, which is:  go ahead and buy the more expensive piece of equipment you really want, because you will only be ending up buying it later anyway.  This will be a lesson I’ll be sure to fail, because I’m as cheap as they comes; as everyone who knows me will attest. But thankfully Rick (Mel’s husband) is slow to learn it as well-and that means they have a lot of extra equipment to loan out.  
Eventually Mel and I got to the fork in the road where we were going to hide our packs and do part of another trail (Ptarmigan Ridge, for anyone who cares) when we bumped into another pair of hikers who were speaking, of all things, Dutch. Also coming from a Dutch heritage, Mel seized the opportunity to strike up a conversation. (In English, thankfully.) We asked questions, they asked questions, and ultimately we ended up getting a couple of great pieces of advice; one of them being to cheat on the last mile of our hike and hitch a ride back to our car. I love him for planting that seed in Mel’s head…because her ‘you have to do it the hardest way’ brain would have never accepted this idea otherwise; and we never would have make it home in time to pick up the kids from school if we hadn’t. 

This little interaction with the Dutch couple is what I call ‘the community of hikers' - and it’s what I most look forward to when/if I do the Appalachian Trail. When I read people’s stories (here is a great journaling website of people who are hiking: http://www.trailjournals.com/journals.cfm …the “Canadian Geese” are thus far my favorite; what an adorable couple) this is what they say they love most about their experience—meeting people. What a beautiful thing.  I’ll finish up our hike next blog…I’m going to drag this thing out like nobody’s business.  (I have all winter with nothing else to talk about, remember?)