OK, I was wrong about the adventures...

With geocaching friends, we just finished solving a bunch (50+) of puzzles that all revolved around the Doctor Who television series. It's supposed to be very hot tomorrow, but we decided to take a chance on the weather anyway. We won't make a dent on all the caches, but it will be fun to hike around Tiger Mountain and get started at least.

We met at 5:00 am at the Maple Valley park & ride and took one car to Tiger, hoping to escape the afternoon heat by covering a lot of ground early, before the sun got too high. The plan worked pretty well, until we got off trail to "save some time and steps." We've all done it; sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't! Some of the trails weren't much better, so faint you could barely see them.

Our best reward was stellar views of Mount Rainier from the top of a clear cut. Then back into the forest for more bushwhacking.

Our plan abandoned us when we made a short detour down a steep trail to get a cache, then had to climb back up the hill. Not the wisest thing we'd done that day, and it nearly did all of us in. So we followed the trail back to a logging road, and opted to stay on the road back to the parking area. We were in and out of the sun, the temps were well over 90 degrees, and we were all miserable. We made it back with only a couple of incidents: DW had to lie down by the side of the road and let his back loosen up, and Shannon got hit with a migraine about half a mile from the car.

But we all made it. Back at the car, we rigged an ice pack for Shannon and opened up cold beverages for all of us, and cranked up the A/C until we all cooled down. We'd planned dinner and a beer at a local pub, but in the end, we figured that 14.5 miles of mostly steep hiking and 8+ hours in the heat was enough, and we just headed for home.

Snoqualmie...

We escaped the rain this morning, headed north to the Snoqualmie valley for a hike. Tolt-MacDonald Park is on two levels: pastoral green fields below, where the farm used to be, and a repurposed barn that was once part of the dairy farm. But cross the river on a somewhat creepy suspension bridge, you can climb the trails to a forest high on a bluff above the Snoqualmie River. It's a favorite of mountain bikers; once you get up the steep switchbacks to the top, you can ride for miles on singletrack and old logging roads.

We came up to find one of the oldest geocaches in the state, placed in early 2001, then we just explored. At the top of a "shortcut" trail back down the bluff to the river, we found this amazing view across the valley to the fresh snow in the Cascades.



The shortcut didn't turn out to be the fast trail we'd hoped. It was shorter than retracing our steps, but it was a steep, root-laden, slippery, sometimes hair-raising trek back to the park. I was glad to have a walking stick, and glad for roots and branches to hang on to in the worst spots. And most of all, I was glad it hadn't rained recently. It would be a nasty, slick trail when wet.

We had the chance to stop by Snoqualmie Falls this morning, but I decided to wait until after our hike. Which turned out to be a bad call. Just as we drove out of the park, it started to rain. And when we got to the falls it was raining so hard, I didn't want to risk my camera. A few quick shots of the falls in full force, and we ran back to the car. 

Walkers welcome here...

King County could learn a few tricks from Pierce County. The county trails near me have ugly stenciled mileage markers painted on the pavement, most of them gone and never repainted. In contrast, the Sumner Link trail system has these cool rusty metal signs.

We've spent a bit of time on this trail lately, to find our daily geocache. No one else has done these caches for a couple of months, wonder why?

Bumps in the road...

Our cache today was along a strip of abandoned road down in the valley. A stream runs along one side, and a row of cottonwood trees, with surface roots that have pushed up the roadway. I can see why the city gave up on maintaining this road, and chose to let nature take over.



Because of my recent run-in with autumn leaves hiding cracks in the sidewalk, I took this walk very carefully. It was like walking on a mini-roller coaster: up and down, up and down.



The reward for this bumpy walk turned out to be easy to find: a beautiful pine cone container that definitely didn't belong at the base of a cottonwood tree!

Autumn at 2800 feet...

The last time we came to Monte Cristo, you could drive right to the townsite. But six years later, a series of winter storms and high water took out the main road bridge over the Stilliguamish River, and the forest service decided not to rebuild the road.

Today it's a four mile hike to get to the townsite, through towering trees on a mostly flat trail that ambles along the river. And that river crossing is now a scary tightrope walk across a massive log. The butt end of the log was easily 5 feet in diameter, and an easy walk. But then it got narrow, and when it fell it broke into a few sections, and I really didn't think I'd make it across the broken parts. But I did, thankfully.

All day we walked and explored along the river, surrounded by brilliant color, and with the snowline just a few hundred feet above us. It was a constant reminder that we're on the brink of tumbling into winter.

We stopped frequently on the hike to the old mining town, as there are many geocaches along this trail. But finally we reached the old logging road and climbed up the last mile to the townsite, and crossed the bridge over the river.

A couple of the old town signs have survived.

The first sign that you've reached the ghost town is this small red frame building, which once housed the electrical equipment that powered the town. It's been restored by a team of volunteers, and now sits on a new foundation. Can you see the curved path at the bottom of the photograph? This is the pathway carved by the original turntable for the railroad. The turntable still exists, and is so well balanced you can move it by hand.

Many buildings still exist, mostly cabins and bungalows used by miners during the town's boom period in the late 1890s. The first wide valley holds several intact structures, but most of the residents lived up a narrow trail to another plateau, where the streets are still visible.



Up the river are the remains of the ore concentrator, once a five-story structure, now a towering pile of huge timbers.

We took time for a late lunch and a last look around, then started the hike back to the trailhead. The clouds were clearing, and the snow was disappearing from the high ridges.

As we walked, several groups of hikers passed us, on the way up to the ghost town. With sunset just a couple of hours away, I hope they know what they're doing.

When we got back to the river, I was dreading that scary walk across the fallen log. So I looked for an alternate, and spotted a man-made "path" of rocks across one of the braided channels of the river. That looked much better to me. The water was low, the rocks were dry, and I got plenty of balance help from my trekking poles. From the island in the middle of the river, it was easy to climb up onto the widest part of the log, and make the rest of the crossing.

We got back to the Pilot just as the light was fading. Perfect timing, and a very good day.

Washington's oldest...

We've talked for years about going after the oldest geocache in Washington. We knew there was a steep hike involved, but with Indian summer in full swing, it seemed the perfect time to go.

Autumn is just starting to show its beautiful colors, especially the huckleberries, which are bright red. The vine maples are turning yellow and orange, and the trail is lined with them. It will be a beautiful hike.

We had the trail to ourselves, which suited me just fine. I take the accents at a measured pace, and stop often to look around. Because we came up for a drive in this area yesterday, I knew there were beautiful views to the south, and didn't want to miss any photographs of Mount Rainier.

Once we left the abandoned logging road and started to climb up through the forest, the colors intensified. We walked out into an old clear-cut and there, far below us, we saw Lake Keechelus.



When the trail climbed higher and veered to the west, there it was: Mount Rainier. The day was turning hazy in the late morning, with not much contrast. My eyes had no trouble, but I don't have much hope for good photographs.



After this lovely view, the trail turned north and headed deep into the forest. I was glad when we reached the top of the ridge, and the trail flattened out a bit. We're now on the narrow ridge that runs to Mt. Margaret, then down to Lake Lillian. And we're almost there. The cache is a short bushwhack up a steep hill and over deadfall trees. It was quite easy to find; the tough part was the hike in.

So here we are, three-quarters of the way up to Mount Margaret. Now what? We're so close, we couldn't resist climbing the rest of the way to the top. Where there is another geocache. And more views of Mount Rainier, 40 miles to the south.

So off we went. The trail was lovely, through towering trees and very little underbrush. It was like being in a cathedral. But the trail didn't take us to the top of the peak. Oh, no. We had to break off the main trail onto a very steep game trail that led nearly straight up the slope. I made it two-thirds of the way up a bare slope when my legs gave out. So I stopped and sat down on the trail, and looked at the view while my legs stopped quivering. An eagle soared in the distance, and it was completely silent.

Dave found the cache then came in search of me, and with encouragement (and knowing I'd regret not making it to the top) I pulled myself up the last bit of the open slope and into the woods. There were downed trees to climb over, but I felt safe from falling there. And out I walked into the light on the east side of the ridge, with stunning views of fresh snow in the Enchantments, and the north side of the Stuart range. Amazing.

I took a look at the geocache, we had a snack and photographed the views, then we headed down. Surprisingly, getting back down the game trail was easier than getting up. I used a walking pole (which I couldn't use on the climb up) for balance as I felt for good footing, and just took my time.

Halfway down the game trail, Dave stopped and pointed out cat tracks in a muddy spot. They were not there when we climbed up. This was a bit creepy... the tracks were small, so probably a lynx or bobcat was following us, curious about the invaders in the woods.

The hike out was pleasant, even though the constant downhill pounded my knees and feet. Before I knew it, we were back at the trailhead. Instead of heading west toward home, we went east to Roslyn, where we were happy to settle down at a hewn wood table at The Brick. This is one of our favorite places, a cool historic bar in Roslyn, with the original wide plank floors, back bar, and brass railings. I think they make the best Reuben sandwich and fries of any place we've ever been. DW had a jalapeno burger, and we both finished the day with a tasty beer.

It was a great day. Our next long hike is in a few days, and I can hardly wait.

Red Town on Cougar Mountain...

What better way to spend a blistering hot day than a walk in the woods, followed by cold beer and pizza at a new (to us) brewpub.

The hot, dry days are bringing the maple leaves down early.

Cougar Mountain is old coal mining country, always interesting to explore.

We found this little place in our old neighborhood, in the building where I used to do my grocery shopping. I like the new tennant much better! After a couple of hours walking in the heat, we were more than ready for an icy cold beverage and a perfectly wonderful pizza. Love this place... we'll be back soon!

Umptanum light...

The hike to Umptanum Falls brings you right to the top of the waterfall. There's a shallow pool at the top, and the water foams and spills right over the edge of a basalt cliff.




If you want to see the waterfall straight on, you scramble up a steep rock slope (with the help of a rope) across the top of a slot canyon, and down the other side. It's worth every rocky step.

We arrived at the wrong time of day for good photographs, but that's how it happens some times. But as we hiked back toward the trailhead, I got my reward: perfect light out of the west to shine through a grove of aspen trees.

Along the Cedar...

In between rain showers, we walked along the river near Landsburg. There are amazing things in the woods, if you take your time and look, really look. Like the shapes hidden in the green.




Faint stripes in the trillium petals, the first one I've seen this year.

An Oregon wood snail, crawling across the tree roots.

And really big cat tracks in the mud.

Looking for blues..

There is still snow in the hills above the valley, and grasslands full of wildflowers and running water. We walked for hours, looking for that glint of blue in the gravel... that telltale sign of an Ellensburg Blue agate. It's the only agate considered to be a gemstone, it's that beautiful, and that rare. We walked, and talked, and laughed, enjoying our time together.

Mossy...

Our day began with an early breakfast at a little place in Fall City, then we wandered a few sections of the Snoqualmie Valley trail. It snowed just a bit overnight, and it was cold enough for snow to linger in the shady places. The snow was beautiful on the mossy posts of this old guard rail.

Winter hike...

What to do on a sub-freezing day in January? Going for a hike sounded like a good idea. So we bundled up, and off we went. We recently learned about the Sequalitchew Creek trail near DuPont, which runs from town all the way to Puget Sound.



This is a great trail... not too steep, well maintained, through a beautiful canyon lined with tall trees and ferns. There is a lot of history here. At the lower end of the trail are signboards that tell about the Native American people who lived here, the early settlers, the duPont wharf, and the early railroad. You can walk all the way to the rocky beach; the trail runs under the railroad tracks through a double concrete tunnel. One side is for foot traffic; the other still has the narrow gauge track.

The only steep part of the hike was when we climbed the switchbacks up to the top of the hill, where the duPont plant once stood. The trail runs between the old security fence and the edge of the bluff, with a peek-a-boo view of Puget Sound, the Olympics, and the south sound islands. The trail runs through a canopy of trees, so gorgeous in the late afternoon light.



One last little discovery was down a side trail, which led to a clearing on the edge of the bluff. Nothing remains of the 1841 observatory that once stood here, but duPont marked the spot with a monument.

Love...

A grassy hillside, a handful of lichen-covered sticks, and a sentiment we can all understand. Not what you'd expect to find alongside a trail. But I loved finding it there.

.Winter walk...

On a chilly day last week, after the first snow fell in the foothills, we took our first walk on the Snoqualmie Valley Trail. We only sampled short stretches of the 31-mile railroad grade, and already I'm thinking of doing the whole thing on the bikes come spring. We're going to a geocaching event in North Bend tonight; the perfect excuse to spend the whole day exploring the valley.

Hedges...

The hedgerows are prettier in Ireland... but ours are edible. Recently we walked a stretch of the Enumclaw rail trail. I'd always wanted to bring the mountain bikes here, but walking was easier for photography, and as it turned out, for grazing our way from one end to the other. The trail is getting overgrown, thanks to the blackberries that have sprouted up along the farm fences on either side, growing unchecked now that the right-of-way has been abandoned. Blackberries, warm from the sun, just reaching that perfect juicy ripeness. I can't think of a better perk to a long walk.

The edge of the wilderness...

Geocaching brought us back to Oregon. We're in search of the oldest caches that still remain, and since geocaching started in the Pacific Northwest, some of the oldest are here. Today we're hiking about ten miles to get two of them: numbers 12 and 16, placed back in early 2000 in the mountains west of Mount Hood. We've poured over topo maps to try and get a sense of the terrain, and read the accounts of those who've gone before us, and we think we're ready.

  The original log book in the 12th geocache ever placed

What those accounts didn't say, and which prove the old adage about pictures and words, is how beautiful the hike was. I expected a faint trail through a clear cut, in the hot sun. But once we made it over the roller-coaster terrain of an old road to a rock quarry and onto the official trail, we found a spectacular trail through the forest.



We started out on a stretch of the Douglas trail, through deep woods at first, then along a vast river valley. The native rhododendrons, which had already finishing blooming in the lowlands, were in full bloom.

We climbed steadily up along the knife edge of a ridge until we reached a junction. Straight ahead would take us into the Salmon Huckleberry Wilderness, but our path led us to the left, onto the McCarthy Ridge trail, with stunning views of Mount Hood.

Our cache was near a bench on a wide saddle carpeted with wildflowers, with the mountain in the background.





We stayed a while to enjoy the view and take pictures, and I wished we could keep on walking down this trail, to see where it went, and what other spectacular views we'd find. But we didn't have time today. Maybe one day, we'll come back with packs and spend a few days here.