I, on the other hand, tossed and turned for most of the night, caught in a classic camping dilemma: to breath fresh air or to be eaten alive by mosquitoes.
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Making friends as an adult is incredible hard and like finding a life-partner, a solid adventure buddy is a needle in a hay stack. However, a few months ago I found one named Jess.
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I wanted to go camping for a few days. I fancied myself hopping from one isolated alpine lake to another, blue waters to bluer, jumping in, drying off, jumping in again, drying off again.
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Since arriving in Washington State, I had admired Koma Kulshan, Mt.Baker, from across the Sound. My dad and I spoke often about doing a guided climb with the American Alpine Institute.
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On our way back to Seattle, after climbing Loowit, we made a quick detour to visit Tahoma.
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We were alone for the first few miles of the trail, but as we broke out of the trees a conga line of headlamps belonging to those farther up the mountain was revealed.
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There is no better night cap or evening ritual than seeking out the sunset, an opportunity to get a little fresh air before, to move and be outdoors one last time before settling into bed. This evening was a dramatic one.
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A short and sweet collection of photos from a family day hike on Hurricane Ridge in Olympic National Park.
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Between bites of chocolate I yelled, hooted and hollered nonsense down the trail hoping for a reply. My calls were met only by the sounds of forest and worry began gaining momentum in my mind.
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After our muffins and the first round of coffee, we took a nice morning stroll around the lake. The water was crystal clear and small trout gulped at the surface, unbothered by our presence.
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The road used to go all the way to the trailhead, however, years ago it was washed out and now you have to hike five additional miles from the parking lot to the trailhead.
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