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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A short and sweet collection of photos from a family day hike on Hurricane Ridge in Olympic National Park.
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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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