Trio...

The week has been a blur of stress over selling the truck and camper, catching up on laundry, trying to help my sister pack for their journey home to Australia, This afternoon while folding clothes, I glanced out the window into the front pasture. And saw this trio of black-tail deer.

They are all young bucks, apparent losers in the fall mating season, banding together now for company. Each fall we are visited by a few of these youngsters, but this is the first time we've had three at the same time. The two youngest snoozed the afternoon away together, and the older one had his own sheltered spot under a tree by the pond. And by nightfall, they were gone.



I hope we see them often through the winter months, to graze in our pastures and take shelter under the evergreens, and to provide me with many more photo opportunities.

Cabin time...

The cabin was full of family this weekend...  my two sisters and me, our husbands, plus nieces and a nephew, two great-nieces, and a black-and-white dog.

Usually we have a family weekend before now, but this was the only weekend that worked out. So instead of swimming and fishing and sitting on the beach, we kept a fire going in the woodstove, and watched it rain. But we didn't mind. We played games and cooked and talked and laughed. And on Sunday it cleared up enough to go mushroom hunting: the chantrelles are just starting to poke through the moss.

Time...

I feel a bit lost today. The past couple of months have been so busy, it's been hard to catch my breath sometimes. A long road trip to visit family, shorter road trips to geocache and explore, hiking and backpacking, and the crown jewel: volunteering to watch over a lookout.

Now that the summer is past, I'm looking forward to a slower pace, time for friends and family, time for photography. Time to slow down and watch the leaves turn gold and copper and red.

Time for me.

First light...

First light woke me this morning, and I dressed in all my layers and went outside with camera and tripod to photograph the waking day. DW lit the kerosene heater and started water for tea, then joined me on top of this knob of rock we've called home for the past few days. We watched for the sun to make it over the ridge of mountains to the east; sunrise so close to this peak we call The Mountain is a wonderful sight to see. Then we saw it: light glinting off the windows of the Fremont lookout, miles away, just this side of the three Burroughs peaks.

I'm going to miss this place.

My day at the top...

Head in the clouds...

When I woke at first light, the mountains had vanished, with nothing but clouds as far as I could see. The closest trees were alpine firs were there, poking through the mist, but The Mountain was hidden from view. I closed my eyes and snoozed, until the beginnings of sunrise woke me up.

I was tempted to close my eyes and let the morning come, then I rolled out of my bunk and grabbed my camera and tripod and waited for the sun. It didn't come, not for hours.



We lit the kerosene heater and cooked breakfast, and were entertained by the resident chipmunk who kept coming to the windows with a bright orange Cheeto in his mouth. We never did figure out where he got them; we didn't bring any snacks with us.

We had a few visitors today, including three hikers who checked out the lookout and the fire finder, then had lunch at the picnic table with the killer view of Mount Rainier. The forest service came to deliver fresh batteries for the two-way radio, and showed us where to find the Kelly Butte and Fremont lookouts. When the light is right, you can see both of them.

My day was spent walking around with my camera, talking with visitors, and once the last had headed down the mountain, cutting pieces for a new quilt project.

No star gazing tonight. Maybe tomorrow.

Top of the world...

For the next five days and four nights, we're going to be a mile high with a bird's-eye view of Mount Rainier. This historic fire lookout will be our home and our job. During the day, we'll show it off to visitors, and at night, it will be all ours.

The lookout stands on the the top of a knoll, with the road wrapping around it in a spiral. I stand on the top, and slowly turn in a circle. I am surrounded by mountains... the majestic Mount Rainier, the far-off Olympics, Mount Baker, Glacier Peak, Kelly Butte, the Alpine Lakes wilderness, the Stuarts, and a lot more I couldn't identify. A 360 degree panorama of the Cascades, even the top of the gondola at Crystal Mountain.

My sister, nieces, and great nieces came to visit us today, bringing lunch and smiles and excitement at being here to experience this awesome place with us.

We first came to Suntop in June of 2015 to find a geocache. I can't believe we're finally getting our turn to call this place home, even if just for a few days.

Cold rain...

The weather has really taken a turn for the worse, but we're heading back to Mt. Rainier in spite of the weather.

East of Federation Forest, as we headed off to circumnavigate the national park, we looked both ways then hopped the guard rail and down into this forest of ancient trees. The patriarch has fallen, taking a fair number of big trees with it, to lie undisturbed between trail and river. You can climb up on the stump (which would hold my round dining room table and 6 chairs), but even more impressive is standing beside the tree.



Next stop, in even harder (and colder) rain, was the Box Canyon, which is in the park from Stevens Canyon entrance. We always stop here to walk the trail and look down at the Muddy Fork of the Cowlitz River. from this bridge, the surface of the river is about 130 feet below, and the canyon is less than 18 feet wide.



As you walk the loop, the huge rock to the right is scoured with deep glacial scratches. We crossed the bridge and decided to keep on walking the loop, even though that meant scrambling over a couple of downed trees. Thoroughly wet by this time, we ran back to the Pilot.



The last stop was at what is probably my favorite waterfall, Christine Falls. It's another place in the park where we always stop, and rarely do we get to see it without fifty people in the way of my photo. The weather worked to our advantage today. Christine Falls is a two-drop falls and is very pretty, but what makes it a beautiful view is the frame made by the stone bridge that crosses the river. I know the view so well, but I never get tired of it.





Wet, but happy with our day, we headed for Buckley and a burger and beer at The Firehouse. Relaxing in this packed bar and grill was the perfect way to end a long day.

Fall awaits...

It was a day to warm the chairs in the farmhouse, watching the new season of NCIS and cuddling with our cat. We're trying to turn her into a lap cat, and it might actually be working. She slept on my lap for nearly twenty minutes before she started to get restless.

It seems like autumn has arrived. In just a couple of days, the sunny days have turned to rain, and the leaves are coming down, and the mornings are getting colder.

The maple trees across the valley are starting to change, finally. Soon, unless we get a soggy and windy storm, the hillsides will blaze with color, and the trails will be thick with leaves that crunch under my feet.

All summer long, I look forward to those hikes through the woods. It means giving up the warmth of summer days, but I never mind trading them for autumn's cool, crisp mornings.

Content at 63...

I turned this age at the end of another long road trip, my favorite way to travel. A few thousand miles of stunning scenery, a few hundred geocaches, a thousand or so photographs... just the two of us on the road. That's my kind of vacation.

In my twenties, when anything was possible, if anyone had told me how good I'd feel at this age, I would have laughed. And never believed it could be true.

But it is.