A Room With A View

Some dew covered fungus.

I woke up around 5:00 in the morning. It was a Saturday but there weren't any good cartoons on. I drove out to my brother’s house in Everett leaving Olympia at 6:30 and making it there by 8:00 on the dot. I was meeting my brother and my dad to go hiking on Mt. Pilchuk, a place I had never heard of but, we were going to do a trail that my brother had hiked before. The weather was crazy good and I was so psyched to get outside and get up the side of a mountain. The trail head wasn’t very far away, around 40 minutes but the very last part of the road, 3 miles or so, was unpaved and had a few potholes. My grip on the steering wheel tightened as I had flashbacks of Gold bar. Once I unfolded from the fetal position I realized this road couldn’t hold a candle to the grotesque features of the approach road to Gold bar. We made it safe and sound to the trail head, strapped on the back packs and started hiking. The Mt. Pilchuk trail is a 3 mile hike to the summit and is hailed as the easiest, and closest, peak in the Cascade range. We started off hiking through an old growth forest and in many areas there was still dense snow pack that we had to hike over. As we got a little higher the snow disappeared and we hit the switch backs and passed several enormous tree’s covered in moss and large toad stools. A little over a mile in we hit a cool talus field and our first look out.

The first clearing we came to. You would be able to see Mt. Rainier in the distance if it wasn't washed out by how bright the sun is.

We could see Rainier in the far distance and the sun felt good. I couldn’t help but to flip into climber mode and I started looking out for any good sized boulders. Everything by the trail was mostly smaller sized boulders but I could tell farther up the hillside there were probably a few nice chunks of rock. Anyway, we continued on and eventually broke free of the forest and onto the open side of the mountain which was covered in thick snow pack.

My brother and dad.

Fortunately some brave soul was kind enough to stomp out a clear trail and we followed in his/her footsteps. We definitely were not the only ones on the trail that day. I have to admit it is quite a popular trail and we passed several groups as well as got passed by several groups on their way to the top. The hiking started to get intense as we cautiously walked along thinner stretches of the snow pack that were also a little icy from being in the shade but the tough part was going up hill. It was like doing a snowy stair master from hell for a good hour. It was so luminously sunny and beautiful all around us that I must have stopped a dozen times to snap pictures, and catch my breath.

Trudging up the hill.

I was also scoping out the rocks that began to jut out of the mountainside that looked really cool, forming slabs, arêtes, chimneys, and cracks of all kinds. The snow was everywhere and I felt like a hardcore hiker in my tennis shoes slogging along with a goofy grin on my face. As we climbed each hillside we got closer and closer to a huge jumble of rocks that stuck out of the mountain like a big thumb. As we finally broke free of the snow we were faced with a huge mess of boulders to meander and scramble our way between and over.

The rock is a type of shale that resembled a pale white granite. It’s texture was extremely similar to the granite in Swiftwater, very fine grained with almost a sandstone feel to it. The boulders also looked as if someone had loaded a paintball gun with white, black, green, and yellow paint balls and went nuts!

They were extremely cool looking and there were so many different kinds of boulders. Some had a bunch of features, while others were as smooth as the blue sky above. Arêtes, swoops, depressions, lips, laser cut corners, blobs, faces, and prows were chaotically strewn amongst the hustle and bustle of boulders that we sorted our way through until we finally reached the top.

Now that's arete!!!

The TOP!

Our prize was a little house; well it was more like a room, with windows all around it and a wrap around deck. It was neatly placed on the very top of this rocky peak and gave an excellent panoramic view of, well, everything. Mt. Baker, Mt. Rainier, Puget Sound, and the entire Cascade range were all within a head turn of each other. We sat in the little room and had lunch accompanied by several other hikers.

The TOP, again.

The room with a view.

We also learned a little history about the place. The room we were in used to be a fire look out that was built in 1918 and was actually staffed until 1960. In 1957 a ski resort was opened but closed in 1980 because of poor snowfall, kind of hard to believe since this was the middle of June and there was still an abundance of the white stuff everywhere.

Remnants from the ski resort days.

My brother and dad at the old fire watch.

The cascades.

After sharing a few good laughs and snapping off several pictures we headed back down. As we hit the steep snowy parts we simply leaned back on our feet and skied down the slopes. We undid a good hours worth of work in a matter of minutes, and had a lot of fun doing it in the process.

Snow.

Comin' down the mountain.

Now, I seem to remember passing one of the coolest boulders I had seen so far and it happened to be right off the trail. There was no way I was passing this thing by without climbing it, and I had fortunately packed my climbing shoes and a bag of chalk.

I think I was in a state of shock.

The boulder stood about 15 feet tall in the middle of a circle of packed snow. The landing was perfectly dry but was a jumble of railroad ties, rusted bolts and spikes, and gnarled tree branches. The rail road ties actually served as a nice flat jumping off point and I stood beneath the vertical face and plotted a course to the top. There were just enough holds for a good problem so I put my shoes on chalked up and got to work. A few flat crimps, a lunge to a crimpy rail, slapping up a slopey lip to the boulders apex and a pointy jug and then the top out. It had a clear path and great movement, and I definitely was holding on a little tighter than usual because I did not want to fall. It was a pure moment in climbing for me and I sat on top of the boulder and celebrated my good fortune. What a lucky find and I couldn’t have anticipated it any better.

I came down and did the problem one more time as some hikers looked on. One old guy yelled up, “You hiked all the way up here to do some bouldering?”. I smiled and said, “It’s a really good problem.”

We packed up once again and headed on our way. The walk down felt incredibly long and I began to feel the days toils wear on my knees and energy level. We were all beat by the time we reached the car but the highlight of the day was that we didn’t get a ticket for not having a parks pass.

Heading home.

On a side note: (Jimmy, Whitey, and Nic, you will appreciate this story.) As we were driving down the dirt road my dad rolled his window down and I heard a noise that sounded as if a rock had gotten stuck in the tread of my tire. I paid it no mind and kept driving as my dad put his head out the window periodically and stared down at my front right tire. I started growing suspicious and as we talked about what the noise could be my tire pressure warning light went on and I was immediately transported back to the hellish experience of leaving Gold bar. Shit! I thought, I’ve got a flat. I stopped the car and we all got out to inspect the tires. Sure enough my front right tire was low and my dad got on his hands and knees and said, “Yep, you’ve got a nail in your tire.” This perfect day had come to a crashing halt, as the stress set in. We drove down the last bit of the dirt road and pulled over before getting on the real road. I figured it would be okay and we drove to a gas station and filled it with air until the warning light went off. It was a slow leak, so we hauled ass back to Everett and to the nearest Les Schwaub. Their hassle free tire patching policy worked to a tee and we were in and out in 20 minutes with no charge. We then made our way to the closest Mexican food place and stuffed ourselves before heading back to my bro’s place to play some Ninja Gaiden II. As I hacked the limbs from an unsuspecting Wearwolf my eye lids grew heavy and I bid farewell to my brother, his wife, and his little dog Apollo. I made it to my mom’s house in Seattle around 9:00, and an hour later was sound asleep.


Breakfast in Bainbridge

Good morning Seattle.

The next morning I woke up at 6:00 and felt like sleeping for another 8 hours but had to get up so we could make it to the ferry by 7:30. We were heading to Bainbridge Island to check out a place called Island Wood. This early in the morning on a Sunday yielded very few people on the ferry and I walked from port to stern snapping pictures.

Check out the rock wall on this beast!

The ferry.

Goodbye Seattle.

We arrived at Bainbridge shortly and our stomachs pointed us in the direction of the nearest breakfast place that looked and smelled good. We ended up at a place called the Steamliner Diner, which was pretty packed, always the sign of a good local eatery. We got in quick, to our stomachs delight, and well, I’ll let you make the call by the looks of the pictures.

The hard working people of the Steamliner Diner.

This is the Sockeye special, damn, it was better than good.

After reaching a euphoric state of culinary delight, we rolled out of the diner and into the car. We drove out to a place called Bloudell Reserve which is so dedicated to preserving the area it is located on that they only admit a certain amount of people by reservation. We, unfortunately, did not have one and were turned away by an elderly lady whose glasses sat on the tip of her nose, clutching a clip board, with pursed lips. We were bummed but had many places to choose from so we drove out to a place called Bainbridge Bay point(?). A small, but beautiful stretch of beach made up the entirety of the park and we had a refreshing time walking up and down the beach soaking up the sun and watching the sail boats roll by.

The beach.

My mom.

After that we sought out a place called Gazzam lake. The trail head was easy to find but there were two different trails. A sign and an arrow pointed down one of the trails so naturally we followed than one. After hiking for half a mile we came to a tiny pond. We both looked at each other and said, “Is that it?” We were both a little under whelmed as we headed back to the car. As we arrived at the trail head a group of people showed up from the other trail. We asked them if that was the trail to Gazzam lake and they said yes. OOOPS! We decided to give up and headed over to Island Wood because our tour started soon anyway.
‘Island Wood, A School In The Woods’, the sign read. We drove up the forested driveway, parked and made our way to the welcome center. For those of you who don’t know, which included me up until yesterday, Island Wood is a school that is dedicated to teaching children, more specifically 4th, 5th, and 6th graders, about the natural environment of the Pacific Northwest IN the natural environment of the Pacific Northwest. It is an incredibly up to date facility, from the welcome center, Great Hall, dormitories, school rooms, labs, and gardens to other gems located on the 1,100 acres such as the suspension bridge, tree house, and Living Machine. It also has a bog, marsh, pond, and ravine all used to educate the kids about the aquaculture, ecology, and biology of the Northwest. As we got there I almost fell asleep on a bench I was so tired but we started the tour and embarked on a 3 hour trek around the campus. Our tour guide was an awesome lady named Lyla who led us through class rooms, dorms, labs, and a guest house before leading us down the many trails that snaked and streamlined their way through the forested campus. We walked across the suspension bridge, hung out at the bird blind, played in the tree house, and ended it all at their organic garden. It was a really cool tour and my mom really enjoyed it. She is a Montessori teacher who is always psyched about other approaches to education, especially environmentally friendly ones. Our tour guide Lyla is a tough old bird and I can only hope to be as active as she is at that age. As we got back to the welcome center she checked her pedometer and said, “Good, just about 4.5 miles.” My mom and I were beat, and the first thing we thought about was ICE CREAM. We asked around and ended up at one of the most over the top, uber riche, high tek ice cream parlors I have ever stepped foot in. ‘Mora’ was made up of white walls, and hazy pictures of the different kinds of ice cream they offered that looked as if the pictures were taken in a dream. The staff was made up of High school seniors and we were hustled down the line, paying first and then receiving our ice cream. We sat inside the deserted seating area, everyone else was outside, and wolfed down our waffle bowls filled with cool, creamy, glucose and M&M’s, YUM! We made it in time for the 5:30 ferry and were home in an hour. I sleepily drove myself back to Olympia and when I got there subsequently laid in bed trying to recover from the weekend. And what a weekend it was…

side note: I had more photos but they wouldn't load. Maybe later.