Tonelli's Travels

I couldn’t arrive home without telling you about our final national park, one of my favorite places, Great Basin National Park. If it’s not on your list, go add it right now. It’s the second time I’ve been there and worth every mile of driving. I can’t wait to go back!

After a night of star gazing in the Nevada desert, we arrived at Great Basin. The visitors center is at 7,000 feet above sea level, so while it is sunny and dry, it’s not overwhelmingly hot. After much discussion, we decided to stay at the primitive campground and hurried to get two spots. It’s first come, first serve. But we were successful and settled in for a quiet night.

With only one full day to enjoy the park, top of the list was experiencing the ancient Bristlecone pines. I drove my parents up the windy scenic road, gaining 3,000 feet in elevation as we went. After only a few minutes on the trail, we were already shedding layers and breathing heavy. Hiking at 10,000 feet above sea level is no joke!

Slow and steady we went, weaving through pine forests and rock gardens. Today was a day of soaking in the awe and wonder of nature. There was no rush to get anywhere.

As we left the dense forest, gnarled trees popped up before us, growing miraculously in the rocky terrain. Their stature short and squat, their trunks twisted, their branches a rainbow of yellows, oranges, and browns, their beauty was unmistaken. Ancient Bristlecone pines.

These trees capture my attention every time. They are so miraculous. They grow incredibly slowly, their wood is so dense and resinous. It can take a seedling 300 years to grow 3 feet tall! But these trees are smart. They are very spread out, growing only at high elevation where there is little undergrowth, meaning there are rarely forest fires. And if there are, they don’t spread. These trees grow in challenge places where there is little soil, ripping winds, and cold temperatures. Yet endure it all, some for 5,000 years. Yes, that’s right. These trees can be thousands of years old. Amazing.

We spent the better part of the morning wandering around the grove, taking pictures, imaging the stories they could tell. We chatted with the park ranger posted there and he taught us how to distinguish Bristlecone pines from limber pines. Bristlecone pines have needles that grow in sets of 5, making dense bristle looking groups.

When we finally pulled ourselves away, we slowly hiked back and around the two alpine lakes. They were pretty dried up but offered lots of rocks to enjoy. My mom and I came back with quite the collection. A few large ones too!

That night we enjoyed a quiet dinner together. And an epic sunset. We didn’t have time for the cave or the peak hike, so I’ll be back! This place just keeps drawing me in.

Next stop (after many days of driving), home!

The beginning of August brought us to our seventh national park, Lassen Volcanic. A drive through the golden mountains of California, along windy roads snaking to and fro, landed us at this dry land teeming with life. We arrived late in the afternoon with dark clouds slowly replacing the sunshine. After a quick stop at the visitor center, we settled in to our campground and warily watched the ominous sky above.

The campground was busy. My site was a shared parking pad and I ending up turning the van around to park nose first so I had a tiny bit of privacy. People seemed accustomed to cutting through campsites here, which did not sit well with us and a few conversations were had with fellow campers. I also had a young boy racing around, timing himself, and hit my van as his turn around point. I kindly asked his parents to ensure he didn’t do that again. While not the solitude that I prefer, it was nice to be in the middle of the park which made exploring convenient.

Our first full day, my dad and I woke early to hike Lassen Peak. It was a brisk morning but the sun was shining and temperatures would be rising soon. The trail zig zagged up the tallest summit in the park, 2.5 miles and 2,000 feet of elevation gain. I’m tired just thinking about it! We were also starting at 8,511 feet above sea level, so the day was set to be a challenge. Slow and steady. As my dad said, the mountain wasn’t going anywhere. So we put one foot in front of the other, tackling one switchback at a time.

Lassen Peak, a plug done volcano, had just a few trees hugging its rocky sides near the base. Most of the hike was wide open, gorgeous views all around. Brokeoff Mountain was the most distinct. It is one edge of the giant mountain that existed before, stretching taller than Lassen Peak and about 12 miles wide. It encompassed the entire area! Until it erupted today. Now we see many smaller (but still large) volcanoes are different variety. Resilient wildflowers also caught out attention, growing around the pumice and loose dacite. Admiring the scenery as we ascended was a good excuse to catch our breath. The air was mighty thin up there!

At last we reached Crater View, but I kept going before my dad could object. Across the snowfield and a scramble up an undefined trail would lead us to the tippy top. Time to go before we thought too long about how tired we were! At the summit we were rewarded with a full circle view. We sat and looked down into the volcanic crater formed from the last explosion thousands of years ago. Beautiful yellows, reds, and grays colored the rocky rim.

As we sat and relaxed, caught our breath, some trail runners who had run down as we were climbing came up for their second lap. Wow. I imagine they were training for some epic race, working on their endurance and lung capacity. I shared words of encouragement as they passed. What a feat!

My dad and I took in a few different views before growing chilly. Both the breeze and clouds were a blessing and a curse. But we had soaked in the beauty enough to be satisfied as headed down the trail. There were many people climbing up at this point, lots of them struggling with the elevation gain. I hope they all made it safely, or decided to turn around.

We got back to the campground early afternoon. Time for a nap, reading, and just hanging out. A full first day.

Our second day, we decided to do a shorter hike. My dad and I were a little tired! So all three of us jumped in the van and drove to the Bumpass Hell Trail to explore thermal activity. What a name, huh? It’s named after a guide, Bumpass, who took tourists out to the thermal field to discuss a potential spa. Just as he was telling people to be careful where they stepped, he fell through the fragile crust and burnt his leg badly. Thus the “hell.” Honestly, he’s lucky he survived. The waters can reached up to 240 degrees F. Yikes!

Despite their danger, they are quite beautiful. The boardwalk took us by fumaroles (steam vents), mudpots, and spring pools. It was somewhat stinky, the sulphuric acid blowing about, but we adjusted to it. The jet engine sounds of the roiling, boiling water and the fantastic colors created by the algae living within were good distractions. We meandered around for a while, taking in the different views.

On our way out people were streaming in, so I was grateful for the early start. I tried to focus on the scenery around me. The hike gave a good view of the Dixie Fire that ravage the area in 2021. While the fire destroy so much, it also created the opportunity for new life. Green bushes and colorful wildflowers were slowly bringing the health of the area back into good standing.

Next we took a trip to the other visitor center, where I learned about Maidu people. They were unfairly pushed out of their ancestral lands as emigrants came to the area. The Park is now working with them to honor their history and culture and implement many of their land care practices. It’s a step.

We finished the day by stopping at Sulphur Works, another thermal spot, before heading back to the campground to soak up the sunshine. Lassen Volcanic has much more the explore, it’s the only area with all four types of volcanoes present, but that’s all we had time for. I’m glad we experience what we did!

And enjoy our attempts at a selfie with the sign. 😂

We spent three slow, wonder-filled days at The Redwoods. A partnership between the state of California and the national parks, there are several sections to enjoy the coastal redwoods. A taste of the ocean and the forest. 

We slept in our first morning after a long day of driving and a late arrival. When I saw 7:44 on my phone, I couldn’t believe it. So late! Well, at least for us. We’ve been getting up at 6:00 or 6:30. So anything after 7AM feels like a treat. 

We had a slow morning before heading out to enjoy the sunshine and towering trees. The park ranger recommended the Knapp Trail to the Cathedral of Trees, which is exactly what we did. I was pleasantly surprised at how quiet the trail was (after the bus load of campers went by) and was able to wander peacefully among the giants. The redwoods are so tall, so straight, so wide. They tower above us at 200 or more feet tall. It’s amazing I didn’t walk into anything, or trip, my head back and eyes admiring skyward most of the time. 

The trees grow beautiful red bark, thick and cross crossing up the trunks. An excess of tanin in the wood gives them their special color. It also makes them fire resistant, which is part of why they can grow so tall. The tallest is 370 feet tall – the same height as a 37 story building. It’s taller than the Statue of Liberty. They are just so magnificent. 

I climbed in and out of snags, under  fallen trees, and around groves. It was beautiful to witness new life growing out of nurse logs, the forest always giving back to its home.  We saw Big Tree (aren’t they all big?) and Corkscrew tree. Each one was just a magnificent as the last. 

That evening I went to a ranger talk all about salamanders. I also received a tsunami alert due to an earthquake in Alaska. That was a first! And quite jarring. Luckily we were a safe distance from the beach and, even better, the impact ended up being less than anticipated. Phew. Grateful we don’t have those in Vermont!

The following day I adjusted plans to stay away from the coastline and enjoyed a quiet day at the campground. We could hike right from the spot, which meant no driving for a few days. What a nice break!

My mom and I took out cameras and wandered the nature trail while my dad went for a bike ride. We went slow, taking our time to marvel at the little things. We ended up finding six banana slugs and seeing three deer! Of course there were more epic trees, many growing in groves. Coastal redwoods are magnificent also in that they send out shoots to make more trees when they are damaged. Sometimes you’ll see seven or more trees all together, all emanating from the same parent tree. They also create reiterations of themselves up high when a limb breaks off or is touched by fire. They are so resilient. 

That afternoon I got my daily dose of Vitamin D, did laundry in the bucket, and picked blackberries with my dad. I filled a whole container, they were so plentiful. 

Our final day in the park, we drove to a few different areas to explore. We first hiked to Trillium Falls, a small but lovely waterfall. We found our largest banana slug yet and were able to quietly admire the trees. Our second stop was the Lady Bird Johnson grove, a steep, windy drive up into the forest. It was more crowded here, but still lovely. 

A layer of mist and fog crept in from the ocean, giving the forest a magical feel. The redwoods seemed even more majestic. I kept wandering what was happening in their treetops, way up high in the canopy. A whole forest of activity happens up there, plants and animals that may never know the forest floor. Blueberry bushes growing on the thick debris collected on the tree limbs, birds building nests, flying squirrels jumping around, salamanders meandering. A whole other world happens way up there. 

Our last stop of the day was the coast. But before we could get there, we had to admire the elk grazing downtown! They just milled about like they owned the place! After that entertainment, we watched our park video at the visitor center and took a short jaunt on the beach. The fog rolled across the hills and the waves crashed on the shore. Of course we collected some rocks and admire the flowers. As we left, the blue sky started to reveal itself. 

Back at the campground that evening, we witnessed a herd of male elk in the field. My mom spied their huge antler racks poking above the grasses. They stared back, stood on occasion, and moseyed to a new spot to feast every now and then. They are majestic creatures. 

It was a full and rewarding trip to The Redwoods. Grateful to walk amongst the history and nature. 

Our final day at Crater Lake, we had the special experience of a boat tour on the water. I was able to book tickets last minute, which was such a treat. It feels extra special because access to the water will be closed for three years after this season. No boat tours, no swimming. The dock, bathrooms, and general water access area are about to undergo a major renovation and restoration project. Our timing good not have been better, so lucky. 

We left the campground early and drove around the rim to Cleetwood Cove. The day was calm, not even a breeze ruffling the highest leaves. The lake was as smooth as glass. It was so peaceful and majestic. The rim of Mount Mazama and the clouds above reflected in the royal blue waters. 

That scenery kept us going as we began the steep switchbacks that led us to the lake’s edge. Seven hundred feet down to the water. My knees were a little cranky, but the biggest challenge was pushing aside thoughts of climbing back out! That was a couple hours down the road though. 

Once at the lake, still as blue as ever, we waited in the hot, sunny line to board the boat. Park Ranger Bruce was our guide and gosh did he do a fantastic job. As we glided around the lake in the flat bottomed boat, he shared all about the creation of the lake, the history of recreation there, the animals living there and more. We saw beautiful snow-fed waterfalls, lush green vegetation on the caldera walls, Wizard Island close up. The calm waters and breeze as we sailed around made for a wonderful tour. 

Ranger Bruce shared how underfunded the park is, how they don’t truly have enough staff to keep everyone safe. It would take 16 people to carry someone out of the caldera. Sixteen people! there are only two park ranger police, which are the only EMTs in the park. Crater Lake was hit hard by federal budget cuts. So if you are interested in donating to a park, this would be a good one. 

Ranger Bruce also shared wild stories about how people would access the lake before Cleetwood Cove was installed. People wanting to boat would put a team together and carry a boat down the steep, loose rock sides of the caldera. I would hate to have been the person at the front of the boat! One wrong step and down you’d go. Yikes!

He also talked about members of the Klamath tribe coming to the lake historically on spiritual journeys. They would be looking to commune with their spirits, their guides through hallucination. So they would run down the side of the caldera to the lake, pick up the largest boulder they could carry, and speed back to the top. If they weren’t hallucinating, they’d do it again. 

This lake has seen so much activity and change over the years. And yet the water remains the purest in the world. As our tour came to an end, we had the privilege of drinking water straight out of the lake. Ranger Bruce and the captain collected our bottles (reusable ones only, single-use plastic not allowed) and dipped them right into the blue water. It tasted divine. 

We also got to see the “Old Man” in the lake, a log floating vertically for over 100 years. About 3 feet stick up above the surface and about 20 feet float below. It’s quite the interesting phenomenon. 

It was another magical day, a wonderful experience. I’m so glad we made time for it. The whole ride, I kept thinking, “I’m inside a volcano!” How often can you say that?

The magic of it propelled us up and out of the caldera and through our long drive afterwards, all the way to the Redwoods. We arrived late at night, just a little sunlight still lingering, and headed right to bed.

Our first full day at Crater Lake we woke early and enjoyed a quiet drive around the rim. It was sunny and a brisk 42 degrees, a slight breeze swirling around. Time for a hike!

Mount Scott, the tallest point in the park, is located on the northeast side of the park. I chose it because I knew it would be quiet. We claimed a spot in the small parking lot and headed out through the meadow. We welcomed the forest ahead to help break the breeze and warm us up a bit. 

We started up the first switchback, a long gentle climb through the forest and around the mountain. The forest was sparsely treed and the drop off on the right hand side aggravated my mom’s hikers vertigo. She tried to press on, but the path only became narrower. While disappointed she had to turn back, we also know it was the right call. She had packed her book and drawing materials just in case, so she wouldn’t be bored. Good planning Mom!

My dad and I continued on, slowly climbing to the 8,927 foot peak. The air was a little thin, but we took our time and enjoyed the views. It was a bit hazy first thing, but layers of mountains could still be seen in the distance. 

The trail was surrounded by pumice, light airy rock for past volcanic eruptions. Beige, gray, golden, it was sprinkled everywhere. Pumice doesn’t hold much moisture, nor does it contain many minerals or nutrients, so the trees were short and scarce. The wildflowers were abundant though, resilient plants bringing life to every nook and cranny they could. 

When we reached the summit, Crater Lake glistened beautifully blue down below. You could see its full glory, the whole shape of it. We found a quiet spot to rest on the far side of the old fire tower and settled down to enjoy. My rock perch was the perfect viewing spot. 

As we snacked, orange butterflies started to swirl around us. They came up the backside of the mountain, flew over our heads, and twirled around down the other side. They seemed to be having fun riding the air currents. One group came, then another, and another, nearly a constant stream of butterflies. 

As we sat admiring them, a young woman came around to our viewing spot.  We started chatting about my Skida hat and it turned out she was from Massachusetts! Better yet, she grew up in Holliston, Ma. That’s the town over from where I worked in Massachusetts – small world! She was living and studying in Oregon, hoping one day to be an OT working in schools. It was meant to be that we “hiked” into each other. We chatted about all things New England, exchanged hiking suggestions, and felt warmed by the meeting and conversation. 

Soon after she left, we headed out too so we could connect with my mom. But our journey was delayed because as soon as we left the very peak, we were in a super highway of butterflies! Orange California Tortoiseshell butterflies danced, zoomed, and swirled all around us. Thousands of butterflies on trees and rocks and snow, thousands of butterflies flying past us and sometimes into us. It was so incredibly magical. One even booped me on the nose. 

We were frozen, awestruck by the magic of the moment. Butterflies everywhere we looked. And as we headed down the trail, they hiked with us, enjoying the sunshine and breeze. They likely are migrating south to Mexico. We are so luckily to have experienced the miracle in person. 

As we moseyed on, I could help but giggled and twirl. I was hiking in a highway of butterflies! There were just so many of them. A truly special moment indeed. Even when we arrived back at the van, a smaller cohort were fluttering around, giving all of us a chance to experience their magic. 

When we said goodbye to the butterflies, we drove to a lookout for another view of the lake, and then headed down the curvy road to our campground. Before we called it for the day, we stopped back at the visitors center so my mom and I could walk the wildflower garden. Along the stream, at the edge of the forest, was a beautiful rainbow of pinks, yellow, purples. We saw plentiful Lewis Monkeyflower and Biscot. An extra treat on an already wonderful day. 

That evening we attempted to do laundry, but the machines were broken. Oh well. I enjoyed a hot shower instead and a restful swing in the hammock. This day was quite possible the number one highlight of the trip. 

On our 31st day in the road, we arrived at Crater Lake National Park in Oregon. When we arrived at the entrance, we were greeted with a long line of cars. In my mind I wasn’t expecting the park to be very popular. While I was interested to see Crater Lake, it wasn’t top of my list, so I was surprised by the crowds. Maybe it was just an easily accessible place I thought. When we finally got in, we headed straight to the campground to rest. 

My dad suggested that he head to the rim and get our first view of the lake for dinner when perhaps the crowds had thinned. So we headed out in the late afternoon, stopping at the visitor center first to get acquainted.  Crater Lake sits on Mount Mazama on the lands of the Klamath Tribes. 

The lake is actually a caldera, but a white man named James Sutton called it Crater Lake after bringing an expedition here and the name stuck.  The volcano that created Mount Mazama grew over thousands of years, lava slowly piling up.  And then one day 7,7000 years ago it exploded, its peak went straight up like a piston and then fell straight down, plugging the volcano. After the land cooled, it began to fill with water from rain and snow. There are no rivers, streams, tributaries flowing in or out of Crater Lake. The water stays at a fairly consistent level due to evaporation and natural drainage through the walls of the caldera.  Because of this, Crater Lake is not only the deepest lake in the U.S., it also has the cleanest, purest water in the world. 

Ok, that’s pretty neat, I thought. But still, not sure why the crowds. 

Here is eruption story from the Klamath people:

Informed, we drove the winding road up to the lake. Then I got it. The lake is the bluest blue I have ever seen. It’s so rich in color it takes your breath away. You can’t help but stop and stare. It’s just magnificent. 

Admiring the lake down in the caldera was prime seating for dinner.  Afterwards, we took a walk along part of the rim. Every step, every view, was just as breath taking as the first. It just really didn’t seem real and yet there it was. Mother Nature is so cool. 

So why is the lake so blue? It is because of its depth and its purity. In the spectrum of light, the color blue is the last to be absorbed. It can penetrate great depths. Since Crater Lake is 1,943 feet deep in the deepest location and so clean, the light can travel far, far below the surface. Visibility has been recorded at over 130 feet deep before. 

Crater Lake definitely rose on my list of parts. I became fascinated by it. I couldn’t wait to see it again tomorrow. 

From Mount Rainier we spied Mount Saint Helen in the background, its flat top an easy indicator to spot. Visiting the volcano wasn’t going to fit the itinerary, but we could go to the visitor center. So we said goodbye to Mount Rainier NP that morning and headed down the road. 

The mountain is known to the Cowlitz people as Lawilátla (lo-wet-LOT-thla), meaning “the smoker.” The Cowlitz have lived around the volcano for millennia, witnessing its eruption multitudes of times. This place is sacred to the indigenous people, a place where great spiritual power lies because the mountain brought everything into being. It connects them to a time when all animals could speak. The mountain is important to their lives and culture. 

Despite living around the mountain and its waterways for millennia, the Cowlitz had to petition the government to be federally recognize, an expensive battle that took nearly 150 years. Their ancestors lived in villages all along the river.  The Upper Cowlitz, Taidnapaum, lived in the high meadows and prairies and by lakes while speaking the Sahaptin language. The Lower Cowlitz spoke Coastal Salish and lived along the waterways to the south of the mountain.  Having language diversity gave the indigenous people advantages and power. 

Today, members of the Cowlitz tribe carry on traditions such as smelt, salmon, and camas harvests.  They also have drumming and singing celebrations throughout the year.  The park works with the native peoples to care for and make decisions about the land. 

In addition to educating us on the Cowlitz people, the visitor center also displays the history of the 1980’s eruption of Mount Saint Helen.  One of the things most fastening to me was how strongly people denied that the volcano might erupt. Many had become so accustomed to recreating and working on and near the mountain that despite days of volcanic activity leading up the eruption people were asking the government to let them return to their vacation homes, logging work, etc. They surely did not understand the power of the mountain like the indigenous Cowlitz did. 

When the big explosion did happen, it occurred within a matter of seconds. While 57 people did lose their lives, only 3 of those people were inside the evacuation zones. The others ended up dying from the after effects of ash, etc.  The eruption caused tremendous mudslides, wiping away homes forever. The lake near the volcano, Spirit Lake, rose 200 feet. It drastically changed the landscape of the area forever. 

This traumatic event left its mark on people and land. And, fascinatingly, the earth is rebounded faster than any scientists predicted. While many parts are still barren, 45 years later wildlife have returned, trees and wildflowers are growing. New life has emerged and in some cases is flourishing. When nature is left to take care of itself, she does amazing things. 

With my mind spinning in the best way, we headed back out for the rest of our journey. Traffic through Portland made for a long drive, but we eventually made it to the blueberry farm and enjoyed our river view spot. And some delicious blueberry treats. 

This was a five star day on the land of the upper Cowlitz people. It was a long day, but one filled with quiet trails, sunny skies, a happy birthday, and so much more. If you ever make it to Mount Rainier, definitely hike the Paradise Glacier Trail. 

We arrived early at the trailhead, but things were already bustling. Paving work and a parking lot closure made finding a spot challenging, but as we turned around to head to the picnic area we noticed empty spaces in a pull out. Score! I made a U-turn and parked, leaving plenty of space around me. I let out the big breath I was holding in. Mission complete. 

We slathered on sunscreen, clipped our bags into place, and headed out on the Skyline Trail. The first part was paved, so we skipped along easily.  We came to Myrtle Falls where many were gathered, took a quick peak, and continued along eager to find a more quiet space. It was hard to be too bothered though as there was not a single cloud in the sky so we had the privilege of admiring Mount Rainier in all its glory. 

The trail went down, down, down from there, which made us a little nervous about what waited ahead. And the return trip. But I did not spend too much time worry about it. There was so much beauty to see. 

Soon we began the climb, winding through alpine meadows. Wildflowers bloomed all around us, a sea of color. And of course, another glimpse of the mighty volcano its many glaciers at every turn. 

The farther we went down the trail, the thinner the crowds became. Soon we turned onto the Paradise Glacier Trail, largely leaving everyone behind. We entered into a moraine, a hilly gray bowl filled with rocks and sparse patches of greenery. Views abounded in every direction and a gentle breeze kept us feeling refreshed. Just a little ways up the trail a hoary marmot popped out to say hello. They nibbled on some shrubbery before ducking into a whole, just their head sticking out to watch us. And then another popped out! It laid upon the first, giving it a gentle hug. A sweet moment to witness. 

The trail continued to meander, growing a little narrower, heading towards the mountainside ahead. Melting snow rain down the trail and vernal pools popped up here and there. I disturbed a frog sunbathing in one when I went to splash my face with the frigid water. Sorry frog!

It was so quiet and peaceful. Eventually we came to the end of the maintained trail, a snowfield greeting our feet. We stopped to stare at Mount Rainier’s upper extremities. We were on its base! I took a deep breath to marvel in this reality. How cool!

We then stepped onto the snowfield and trudged our way across, eager explorers today. Before us stretched a lava field dotted with fragile alpine plants, snowfields and winding streams. Up ahead were lush green walls on the mountain where freezing snowmelt gushed down in waterfalls. The glacier had retreated too much to be seen, but the view was still five stars. 

We sat for the longest lunch just soaking in the scenery. We had the place nearly all to ourselves, just three other hikers quickly coming and going. I really couldn’t have asked for anything more, but Mother Nature shared more anyways. High up on the cliff side, my mom spied a mountain goat! I pulled out the binoculars and there they were! Munching on lichen on the rocks. What a special birthday treat for my mom!

The mountain goat moseyed along, never going too far. Probably enjoying the view themselves. Everyone once in a while they laid down in the snowing, resting or maybe cooling down from the sun still gifting us a bluebird day. It really was the most excellent day. None of us wanted to leave.

After a long time soaking in the joy, we did head back. The return trip was much busier, but nothing could ruin the day. We climbed up a bit more and then took the quieter trail back through the middle. A series of long switchbacks and stairs brought us down quickly and out to the visitor center. It was not an easy return trip, but the ancient heather fields helped distract us. 

That evening we took our picture under the park sign, a difficult goodbye but ending on such a high note. We took my mom out for a birthday dinner and all slept very well that night. Mount Rainier is definitely in my Top 10. 

We all need some alone time every now and then, and my day came due this day. Differing energy levels and needs meant it worked out well. I could go on my mountain adventure while my parents explored the trails around Paradise. So off we went, in different directions. 

My hike started off fast, both downhill and up, working off some frustration. Five weeks close together means conflict is bound to arise. It’s just human nature. But the exercise was a great way to process it all.  A few lakes, a mountain view, all great changes of perspective.

As I hustled along, a tiny black mole ran in front of me on the path. It was so quick, scurrying from one side to another, but I saw it! The first of many things to bring a smile to my face that morning. Next was a brown frog, hiding in the grasses, just its eyes giving it away. Like the mole, it was camera shy and off in a jiffy, but definitely helped to move my attitude in the right direction. That and the fact that the trail was pretty quiet. 

Before I knew it, I arrived at Reflection Lake. It was still in the morning air and Mount Rainier towered behind it. A few fish jumped in the water. A few hikers stood admiring the beauty. I walked along the edge for a while, stopping here and there to soak in a quick mental image. Then across the street I went to start the climb to Pinnacle Peak. 

The climb would be short, just 1.3 miles, but gradual it was not. The ground underneath was solid though and I put one foot in front of another, poles lending an assist. Every now and then there was a clearing and a view of Mount Rainier, no clouds in sight. That beauty gave me the energy to keep going. 

No one passed me on the climb up, just like I like it. I did see a few people returning to their cars, like the bride and groom in full wedding gear! At the peak for a photo shoot, I was impressed the bride did the whole hike in her gown. Way to go! 

Just before the solid trail became scree filled switchbacks, something caught my eye. A gray puffball moved amongst the rocks and then stopped to check me out. A pika! Elusive creatures, I was beyond excited to spot one! And this little fellow let me follow it down the trail as it hopped from rock to rock, crawling in a cranny and then popping out again. It even stopped to grab some plants for its hay stack and ran back toward me before totally disappearing. A moment I will cherish forever. 

That excited spurred me on for the final push to the saddle. As I arrived at the landing, rows upon rows of mountains sprawled before me. I could see Mount Adams and Unicorn Peak in the distance. The green valley down below. And I could hear the “meep meep” and “yeak yeak” of pikas chatting all around me. A scene I couldn’t help but smile at. 

I checked out the scramble to the top of Pinnacle Peak and tested it out, but decided the view from the saddle was spectacular enough and searched for a lunch spot. It wasn’t the most peaceful lunch as flies and mosquitos were out looking for a feast, but the views were spectacular on both sides so I toughest it out for a little while.  

When I decided to turn around and head down, I had Mount Rainier in my sights for a good chunk of the way. Although clouds had moved in and blanketed much of the volcano, it was still pretty beautiful. The white avalanche lilies all along the trail were a lovely distraction too. Just before reentering the forest, another pika popped out! This little one and I admired each other for a few moments before it decided it was time to take cover. How lucky am I? Two pikas in one day!

After hiking down from the peak I had the climb back up to the visitor center. And while I was sweaty and tired at the end, I had passed a few friendly people and the brief conversations were very cup-filling. It was just the day I needed. 

Reunited with my parents, body and mind reset, we drove back the campground and had our traditional hot dogs and beans dinner. And before I tucked myself into the van for the night, a mule deer came to say hello. This was definitely a memorable day. 

It took us a full day of driving and errands to arrive near our next destination, Mount Rainier National Park.  Along the way we picked up a prescription at Walgreens, shopped at Trader Joe’s (my favorite!), and even got a new screen protector for my poor phone.  Check, check, check. We were geared up and ready for our next set of adventures. And it was good to be back in the mountains. 

Our first day at the park we enjoyed the Longmire area, which was about half an hour from our campground. This area is where the original resort retreat was created by the Longmire family over a century ago. A place for people to come and embark on a rugged adventure. Today it is managed by the park service which a focus on preserving the natural environment. 

After gathering suggestions from a park volunteer, we meandered around the Shadows Trail to catch our first glimpse of Mount Rainier. We bushwhacked down a side spur, past a few trees, to see the mighty volcano rising across the meadow. While still a great distance away, its enormity was clear.  Glacier capped, the gray mountain was stunning against the blue sky. 

The other highlight of the Shadows Trail was spotting the springs bubbling up from the earth’s floor. Cool water popped up and left rust colored trails where is spilled over. These “baking soda” springs were once bathed in, but today are protected as an important natural element. 

Back in the van, we headed further down the road for a waterfall hike. Carter and Madcap Falls were our next destination.  Our hike started through a boulder field to the river. While roaring, the river was contained at this point in the summer, rushing down its most carved path. You could see how the river raged during the rainy season and snowmelt by the erosion on the embankment, a good 6+ feet high. I  imagine none of the boulder field we were currently traversing would even be visible. How different it must be. 

Once we crossed the river on the single log bridge, we climbed into the forest and into silence. It was a serene forest walk, gently upwards through shorter but no less beautiful trees. We first arrived at Carter Falls, partially hidden across the way. It makes me wonder, how many waterfalls are out there that we can’t see? That perhaps we don’t even know about? Nature certainly has some secrets she keeps all for herself. 

A few minutes later we were at Madcap Falls, out in the open for us to enjoy its splendor.  A fly fisherman was at the top, enjoying his solitude. A sunny spot, we settled in for lunch. After refueling, we wandered to the top of the falls to enjoy the spot the fisherman had vacated, and watched the water swirl and jump before launching over the edge. 

Eventually it was time to pack up and head out, a slow meander down the trail and back across the river. I rounded out the day with an afternoon nap and quiet journal session. A great introduction to Mount Rainier National Park.