Summer's best hikes

Fred asked me if I would be willing to post my favorite hikes of this past summer. Since we actually had eight extra hikes (usually on Monday) added to Thursday's regular treks into the High Country, this was quite a few to contemplate. There were no favorite hikes in June or July because of the late snowfall. The picture above was taken on our trip to Thornton Lakes on August 8th, the first of my favorites for the summer. (Each link will take you to the original post.) Special thanks to Mikey for the picture. Notice that even on that August date, there was lots of snow. This was a new hike for us.

Next comes Welcome Pass, which we did on August 18. It's kind of amazing that we chose this particular one, because in years past, just the name of this hike would cause people to stay away. The 67 switchbacks in a very short distance is part of the reason, but this year the late snowfall also caused the wildflowers to come out in breathtaking profusion. Both spring and summer wildflowers were everywhere, making it feel like we had walked into the set for The Sound of Music. (In fact we were singing and smiling all day long.) Thanks to Diane for this picture.

And then on the 25th of August, we went up Church Mountain, one of our usual trips into the High Country. Another beautiful day filled with sunshine and warmth, with amazing wildflowers yet again, this was perhaps our third attempt during the summer to reach the summit. We not only got there, but we all enjoyed this hike much more than we have in the past. It's interesting how different a hike can be from one trip to the next.

Another exciting and new (to us) hike was Stujack Pass. That's Fred trying to pull us slower hikers up the last grueling and steep switchbacks to the top of the pass. This was the fourth favorite hike we did in August. This was on the 29th, almost into September. Four of my favorites ended up being in August. Just look at those flowers in the foreground.

Although the weather wasn't as beautiful as we had on the August hikes, the trip we made up Mt. Dickerman, another first for me, was simply extraordinary. We had been warned that it is a hard hike, and we must have been ready for something much harder than it turned out to be, because we simply cruised right up. (All those extra hikes in August might have had something to do with it.) This one was on September 19. We also saw seven mountain goats!

And even though this final hike was technically during the fall (October 9th), our trip up to Hidden Lake Peaks was also stupendous. I'm running out of superlatives, and this is the final one I've chosen for the season. We have had some great hikes so far this fall, but I don't want to get too far out of the summer season for this particular post. This one was special not so much for the wildflowers (although they were still out when usually they would be completely gone), but for the amazing variety of views, weather, and a cool lookout cabin.

The other four extra hikes we had this summer were also truly great (Monte Cristo, Cow Heaven, Goat Lake, and Mt. Higgins) and I would definitely revisit some of them, but the really outstanding ones are the six I've mentioned here. It was a GREAT summer and we can only hope for one this good again.
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Oyster Dome 2011

There's a reason why the Senior Trailblazers set out on days like today that have a 70% chance of precipitation. Around here you can't wait for a favorable weather forecast: most days have at least some chance of rain at this time of year, and if you're lucky you can have a day like we had today.  Last night it rained heavily, but this morning it had come to a stop and, although these leaves are wet, the green ferns and the trail absorbed most of it. And more never came.

The hike starts steeply uphill from the Chuckanut Highway where we parked, and doesn't let up much until you reach the top of Oyster Dome. Since the weather was fairly warm and we had no icy patches, we decided to cross this rickety bridge (one at a time) to visit the Bat Caves before heading up to the Dome for lunch. In previous years, we skipped this part of the trek because that bridge was just too scary.

Here we are looking up at Oyster Dome from the Bat Caves, where we will eventually stop for lunch, but the caves themselves didn't give me any real pictures. (Some were blurry.) But you can see the sheer rock why the Dome gives us such a good lookout over Samish Bay. Notice that sky: it's blue! And by this time we were all very warm from the uphill nature of this hard hike.

Ah, lunchtime! We've reached Oyster Dome and are getting ready to sit down and have our lunch in the sunshine as we gaze out over the Bay. But the clouds began to come in since it is, after all, November. We had a fairly quick break and headed down to Lily Lake, so that we wouldn't have to come back down over the same steep and treacherous uphill. (It adds more than two miles to the return, but it's much less steep.) Even though the picture below shows us packing up after eating our lunch, I couldn't resist including it. I really like the red pine needles in the foreground contrasting with the trees.

We had a new hiker who joined us for the first time today. Here you meet Holly, who moved to Bellingham one week ago and is looking to learn the local area. I can speak from experience that she has found the right place! She and her husband decided that they are done with the Idaho winters and since they have family in the area, moved to the "right" side of the Cascades. (That's just my opinion.)

She was busy taking a picture, but I caught her smiling at me and hope that we will be spending time getting to know her over the Bellingham winter. Today was such a beautiful day that I didn't even mind that we have left the High Country behind for the season. We are back to the Chuckanuts! Today we climbed almost 2,500 feet up and down and covered more than nine miles before we strolled back to the cars.

Fred has asked me to write a post detailing my favorite hikes of this past summer and fall. Since we had so many extra ones, courtesy of Fred and Al doing the research, I am happy to do it. The only real problem I'll have is to determine which ones I liked the most. I figure I did at least seven brand new hikes (to me at least) and with the delayed wildflowers, we had some of the most amazing flower displays late in the season I've ever witnessed. Hmmm.... processing....
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November scenery

Yesterday as I was walking back to catch the bus home, I saw these rocks covered with autumn leaves and a spattering of raindrops. Although I will never be able to duplicate the artistry of some of my favorite blogging friends, especially Hilary over at The Smitten Image, it will not be for lack of trying. If you visit her post (I've linked it), you'll see what I mean. No false modesty here.

Today I walked by the same stones. The leaves turned brown overnight and the scene in the picture is simply gone. I'm glad I caught it when I did. Sometimes you need to take the shot, no matter how inconvenient it might be, since life just keeps right on going by. Photography, however, is one of my favorite things these days: both my own and that of others. The hikes that the Trailblazers made in the High Country this past summer and fall are all preserved in my pictures and posts, and the Chuckanuts now beckon. (Not really; the Low Country hikes are nowhere near as stupendous, but possibilities for arty shots are just as good.) I always have my camera on my backpack's waistband so it's right where I can get at it. My fellow seniors don't like to stop and admire the scenery much; they are out for the exercise.

You know you can click to enlarge, right? :-)

Yesterday I also saw this black squirrel in the blackberry bushes right off the deck of my front porch. The bushes are at least as high as I am, covered with thorns, and extend deep into the vacant lot to the south. I have no idea how he got up on top of the thicket, but there he was, snacking away on the berries. He's not a very big guy, but he's persistent. The five squirrels that sometimes are all on my porch at once (three black, two grey) fight over the scraps dropped by the birds onto the deck, and they will sometimes chase each other away. It's a regular squirrel rumble out here at times.

At the bird store the other day, where I spent too much of my money, I asked the owner what she thinks about feeding the squirrels. She's got squirrel food (corn cobs, peanuts in the shell, etc.) offered for those who want to buy it, but according to her, the squirrels propagate all too often and don't seem to need any help from humans. There would only be more of them, and neither of these varieties are native, I learned. They are immigrants from the Northeast. The only native squirrel around these parts is the Douglas squirrel, which I don't think I've ever seen. They are small and aren't necessarily urban dwellers, and they would be at a real disadvantage around here in competition with the larger squirrels.

But I was happy to capture these two pictures. I'm feeling much better, almost completely over my cold and ready to brave Thursday's Low Country hike that has, according to today's forecast, a 70% chance of rain.
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Bellingham loves Halloween

I went down to the Farmers' Market this morning to pick up my weekly veggies, and since Monday is Halloween and I remembered last year everybody was in costume, I hoped to find some fun pictures to share. This adorable young lady was hoping I'd take a picture of her dress, she looks so cute in it, and her mother (?) is also in costume. But I'm afraid the flower child stole my heart.

This vendor has an entire costume for a party she's attending, but this morning wore only the headdress, which I must say is quite beautiful. Obviously she's going as a unicorn; she told me she made this and is quite happy to find her horn isn't going to fall off. This morning the festive atmosphere was heightened by sunny skies (at least partly sunny) and no rain! It rained all day long yesterday and is forecast to do the same tomorrow. Sort of like our hiking group noticed, lately we've had one nice day interspersed with a not-so-nice one.

Here's an organic farmer who shares a hippie background with me, I'd say. Love her glasses! She and her partner are both in costume today. Too bad I need glasses to see; I can never wear this kind of cool eyewear because they don't fit over the ones I need to keep from bumping into things.

After Thursday's wonderful hike, I've come down with a head cold that makes me wonder if it's because I did so much last week. I skipped the walk and swim today and will go to the movies instead and sit inside. My friend Judy and I are going to see 50/50 -- everybody needs a good cry now and then, right? (For those of you who don't know the premise, it's about a 27-year-old guy who learns he has cancer. They say it's not only a tear-jerker but also humorous.) I'll wait to read the reviews (in the link above) until after I've seen the movie.
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Last Goat of the season

This is the fourth time this season we have gone up Goat Mountain. By this time of the year, we are usually relegated to the Chuckanuts (not that they are awful or anything, but once the snow flies, we stay close to home) but not this year. Although our season started out slowly, we are still able to get to the High Country. Today ten Senior Trailblazers made our way through the magical trek in the forest, with some residual morning fog still hanging around and giving us this beautiful view.

Before we had gone very far, however, the beautiful restful (although pretty darn uphill) trees were beginning to be covered with this white stuff. From this point onwards, it only got whiter and more slippery. Although we had full sunshine today, remember we are somewhere around 4,000 feet elevation in this picture, and we are headed up to around 5,500 feet. So you KNOW we are going to hit more snow.

By the time we reached the viewpoint showing Sefrit Mountain here, we could see Shuksan and Baker (our old friends) too. The blueberry bushes had a few little offerings here and there, but mostly we basked in the sunshine that warmed us as we ate our lunch. Although it was relatively warm in the sun, one of our hikers gave out before we got to this viewpoint, so we didn't dawdle but quickly went back down to join the others.

Kathy and Karen are enjoying a quick lunch before we headed back, and you can see all the fresh snow on the ground and trees behind them. It was a beautiful day, a perfect one to end the High Country season (I've said that before, haven't I?). But one thing will end today for sure: our dear friend Jonelle who first joined us on Goat Mountain on September 1 will be heading back to the desert to lead hikes there. We won't see her again until she returns in May. She's one of those "rainbirds" who head south when the weather begins to turn, but she has wiggled her way into our hearts and we'll be looking forward to her return. Blue skies and fair sailing, Jonelle!

Here she smiles along with Al, our fearless leader, with Sefrit also smiling behind them. The weather blessed us once again, and we will, as you know, be heading down to the Low Country any day now, with lots of rain in our future. But today, well, this entire week has been outstanding. Today we covered almost eight miles and 2,600 feet, to add to Tuesday's numbers, giving us more than 5,000 feet up and down, and almost sixteen miles of wilderness, adding together both treks. I'm feeling quite... accomplished!
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Chain Lakes

I know I said we were all done with our High Country hikes, and this was a few weeks ago. But yesterday I got an email from Al saying that, with the weather promising full sunshine on Tuesday, we should take advantage of the opportunity to get up there at least one more time before the Forest Service closes the road. We met early on this frosty morning, five of us, and headed up as far as we could go on the Mt. Baker highway to the Chain Lakes trailhead. For most of us, it was cold. Mikey hiked in shorts and t-shirt the entire way, but then again, it's Mikey.

The beginning of the hike took us past Bagley Lake, which as you can see here, is mostly frozen. We had snow and some ice underfoot, but we were prepared with Yak Trax in case we needed them (we didn't). The shadows were long, and we trekked past plenty of red-leafed blueberry bushes, some of which had ripe berries that we enjoyed. It wasn't warm, but as we toiled upwards toward Herman Saddle, we stayed very warm in the sunshine. We figured we could get to the saddle and probably would not make the entire loop, but would turn back and retrace our steps after lunch. It was pretty snowy at the Saddle, as you can see.

Here you see Al at the high point of the hike at 5,400 feet (1,650 meters). We had plenty of snow and slick spots to contend with, so we descended down a bit to a sunny spot to have lunch and thought we would turn around afterwards and head back the way we had come (just under three miles). And then while we were having lunch, a couple of women hikers who had started the hike in the opposite direction from the parking lot passed us by at right about noon. That was all it took for us to decide to attempt the loop, as we had their footprints to follow in the snow.

We headed down from the pass, with Iceberg Lake showing its beauty on the way as we headed up toward Artist Point. That road is closed, but we had the Wild Goose Trail to follow from there, which we used to get back to the cars. The Chain Lakes loop took us along a south-facing slope that displayed amazing color. If you look just above halfway in the picture below, you can see the faint trail that leads to Artist Point.

The five of us reached our car after five hours or so of splendid time in the wilderness, with almost eight miles covered, and 2,500 feet of elevation gain and loss. Tired and happy, we climbed in our car and wondered if by any chance we might have such a stellar day again on Thursday (our regular Senior Trailblazers hiking day). Between now and then, we have a good chance of rain in Bellingham and more snow in the High Country, so... we'll see. I had so many wonderful pictures that I will put a bunch more of them on the Senior Trailblazers Fall 2011 site. Enjoy! We sure did!
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My Aunt Quetita

My mother's older sister, Quetita, is going to be ninety next week. She sent me this picture of herself working in her garden a few years ago, when she was in her mid-eighties. I suspect she doesn't look much different today than she did then. She and her husband Jack are residing in an assisted living facility in Visalia, California. I don't get to California very often these days and haven't visited her, although my sister Norma Jean did a few years ago.

After Norma Jean found her address and phone number and sent them to me, I decided to call her. It was strange in the beginning, when a small voice said, "Hello?" I identified myself as Jan, you know, your sister's oldest daughter? "Who?" Once she finally realized who I was and I told her I wanted to send her a card to mark her birthday next week, she said disconsolately, "Oh. Yeah. I know. Ninety." She doesn't sound happy about it, but I suspect I wouldn't be either. I said that the store where I found a card also has booklets with the happenings of different years, starting with 1930. I asked her if she has some special year after 1930 that would mean something to her (thinking maybe their wedding anniversary).

"Oh, well... there's the year I had my back surgery. I was 31. You do the math." 

"Well, you were born in 1921 and adding 31 years would make it 1952, right?" 

"If you say so." She said this with a giggle. 

"Okay. I'll find 1952 and send it to you." 

"That would be nice. I don't have your address!" 

"I'll send it with the card, Aunt Quetita. It's been great talking with you. Bye now." 

"Bye." 

We said a bit more about health concerns, but mostly it's the whole turning ninety that amazes me. Since neither of my parents made it out of their sixties, I do hope I inherited Aunt Quetita's genetic makeup, but there's no way to know. I think if my mother hadn't gotten breast cancer and then been treated with massive doses of cobalt, scarring her heart muscle, she might be alive today. Sometimes you can survive the disease but die from the treatment. But I still have one first-order relative alive who is of my parent's generation: my wonderful Aunt Quetita. I'll celebrate this most excellent milestone with real happiness!
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