In the deep woods...

Into the deep woods, into the mountains... it's my happy place.



We spent the day in the Cascades above Darrington, north of the Mountain Loop Highway where we spent so much time when we were younger. We don't backpack anymore, but any excuse to get into the mountains... we're there. We'd intended to squeeze a long weekend out of the little time left before leaving on vacation, but car trouble nixed that plan. But we did get a long, beautiful day in the mountains, and that was enough for now.

Share where you live... Green

It's not hard in this part of the world, to find green everywhere you look. Even in June, when it's starting to heat up, the woods are still brilliant green.

For this entry in the Summer Photography Scavenger Hunt, the task was to find five different leaves. In this wooded park between Hwy. 101 and the Pacific Ocean, I didn't even need to move my feet.

Go on a nature hike... find five different leaves | #1

This is #1 on the @twistedroadstudio summer photography scavenger hunt

This is church...

A few years ago, we packed up the fly rods and headed out to explore some new territory, one fly stream at a time. Our last experience was floating Henry's Fork, a branch of the Snake River that runs on the Idaho side of two magnificent national parks: Yellowstone and Grand Teton.

Darby, our fishing guide, grew up in my home state, and bolted for the mountains as soon as he was old enough. He lives for fishing and hunting, and there's nowhere else he wants to be than exactly where he is, in the middle of the stunning Idaho mountains.

At one point as we drifted, the only sounds the river and the fly lines soaring out to touch down on the water, an eagle flew overhead. And Darby looked out over his world, and smiled at me. "This is church," he said. "This is why I choose to live here."

. . .

I thought of Darby today, when we stopped to visit a waterfall on the north edge of another magnificent national park: Olympic. As we walked back toward the MX-5, I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw this amazing grove of ancient maple trees. The only sound was the wind blowing gently through bare branches, and the hollow in the circle of trees beckoned to me. And I knew exactly what Darby was talking about, all those years ago.

p.s. Just a note about the color of green in the beautiful Pacific Northwest. At the end of winter, when spring is still a fervent wish, green is olive green moss and grey-green lichen, and green grass just starting to grow. It is not emerald green, ever. As spring starts to burst forth, with the first blush of new leaves barely showing on the tips of the deciduous branches, the color subtly shifts toward brighter colors. I am so tired of seeing over-processed, fake color photographs of the evergreen forests of the Northwest. Just saying.

Hidden places...

We explored another small park today, down a steep ravine to a dry creek bed, and up the other side through tall firs and maples. There's a big horse farm just north of the park, but no signs that any horses get to use these trails. There are a lot of these hidden parks, stretching from one side of a ravine to the other, some with rushing streams, some overgrown and tangled with blackberry vines, some with small clearings of bright green grass.

It's one thing geocaching has brought us... a way to these hidden places we would not otherwise have found.

Unfurl...

In a season where leaves turn gold and brown and fall from the trees, it's rather amazing to walk through the woods and come across brilliant moss on a stump, covered with the unfurling tendrils of brand new ferns.

It's a reaffirmation of nature, taking every chance to spread and grow, even at the end of the season.

Raspberry to salmon...

The color contrast between blossom and berry is amazing... that's the Northwest salmon berry. I'm always happy to see the bright cerise blooms in early May, one of the first blooms in the woods here.



The blooms stand out, but when the berries make an appearance, they hide behind the leaves, peeking out only if you look for them.

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.

Better late...

This little photo shows what I love to look for in the woods... the detail of rock and moss and leaf and bark that when joined together, makes a forest.

. . . . .

Four years ago I set a goal for myself: to learn more in-depth the photo editing software I've used for years, Photoshop Elements. I know so many people who have moved on to Lightroom, and I'd love to do the same. But this is the software I have, and I know there are better ways to edit my photographs.

On the last day of the year, I went through my photographs in search of one photo to illustrate each month. As I browsed, I was disappointed to see so many dull photos that didn't tell a story. While I'd prefer to not take this kind of photograph, that's another goal. I don't want to have to tweak my photographs. But if a quick fix will bring life to a photograph, I'd like to know the best way.

And as I learn new skills, I'll practice on those disappointing photographs, instead of just deleting them.

Restoration...

Another sign of fall... campgrounds and roads near Mt. Rainier start closing down, so they don't have to be maintained during the snowy season. It's frustrating for us, because we like to hike until the snow comes, and many trails are already out of reach.

La Wis Wis is one campground we wanted to visit before winter, and the road is already closed. So we decided to get up at first light (and before breakfast) and walk in. It's a short walk, only a half mile or so from the road. And downhill. Oh, joy... I'd much rather climb on the walk in, and have the downhill on the way out.

As soon as we got to the campground though, I'd forgotten all about that hike back to the highway. This is a beautiful, historic place with buildings made from logs, huge Western Red Cedar trees, and a crystal-clear stream that flows right through the picnic area.

The leaves are nearly down from the trees, making a thick carpet on the ground.

Before we started the long hill back to the highway, we walked over to see the original ranger station that's being restored to the original blueprints from 1937.

In spite of the early hour, and the cold morning, and the unceasing rain... I was glad we made the effort to hike to this beautiful place. And I was never more ready for breakfast.

Reflections...

The light on this tiny alpine lake was amazing today. We scrambled down the hillside and bushwhacked our way to the trail, and followed it to a bird-watching blind. It's a good time of year to watch for migrating birds, but the lake was bare today.



I was glad of the ... the reflections were worth it. All too soon the snow will fly up here in the mountains, and I won't be able to get here until next summer. So every nice day we can, we head for the hills.

Ghost leaves...

We walked the deep woods high above the White River today, beneath towering trees, accompanied by a stream running full from all the rain we've had lately. Before we left for the next trail near Crystal Mountain, I aimed my camera at a path full of decaying leaves, fading to nothing on the wet trails, holding onto shape and color, layer upon layer of them... slowly sinking into the ground.

The beckoning woods...

The irresistible urge to follow a curving path into the woods, just to see where it leads. I can never ignore it, especially when the path is covered with fallen leaves.Today we went to a small park in Auburn to find a geocache. The green grass was squishy with all the recent rainfall, but the leaves were crunchy underfoot, and after we found our cache, I went around that corner, just to see.

Signs of autumn...

    Fallen leaves and mushrooms, Fox Island

There are lots of signs of autumn here... hillsides full of color as the trees start to change... brilliant vine maples, then sumac, then alders and aspen turn yellow, and the cottonwoods turn into towering statues of bright yellow that fill the riverbottoms with color. Last are the big-leaf maples that change to yellow then gold then bronze before finally losing their leaves in November.

The leaves carpet the land, crisp and crunchy on those sunny days when I love to walk the trails, kicking the dry leaves as I walk. And soft and cushiony when it rains.

Autumn also brings a different sort of carpet to the land... mushrooms. I only recognize one type, the chantrelle. They are abundant on our lake property, and every fall I walk the woods, collecting them and drying them, then freezing them to cook with in the winter.

The rest I am happy to collect in a photograph.

When everyone leaves...

My family left today for two weeks exploring their way through the Rockies. I couldn't go, so after we said our goodbyes, what else to do but go geocaching? With a sprained ankle. And my hiking poles.

We did a late breakfast at our favorite little diner, then headed for Snoqualmie Pass and a big cluster of geocaches. It's a gorgeous day, warm and sunny, but not hot. Most of the caches were at trailheads, and I wanted to sling my pack over my shoulder and head up the trail, any trail. But I had to be content to walk on the smooth paths and avoid the uneven ground, and take photographs.

We found two treasures today:  a grove of first-growth evergreens dedicated to the memory of Asahel Curtis. And beautiful Franklin falls on the South Fork of the Snoqualmie River. It's also memorable because it flows between the westbound and eastbound lanes of I-90. And because the fall plunges into a deep green pool with a sheer wall of rock behind it, making for a cold but popular swimming hole. It's also a favorite (and difficult) waterfall for kayakers to attempt.

Pathways...

We found a hidden neighborhood above Maple Valley today, full of really nice big homes on large lots. It gave us access to trails that run all the way to the bluff overlooking the valley and the river. Some of the trails are old roads; maybe dating back to when the area was dotted with coal mines. We had quite a nice morning of hiking there.

Once home, I went to Trader Joe's then went downstairs to quilt. DW mowed the fencelines in the front pasture, then mowed several wide paths to give me access to the tansy (and the blackberries once they're ripe). When I finished pulling tansy, I pruned blackberries and looked for branches to build a rustic fence like the one in my sister's garden.

We finished up a tiring but satisfying day with dinner at the Irish pub in Kent, fish & chips and an IPA. A relaxing time, until the very loud (and drunk) 20-something brunette arrived with a group of friends. Fortunately, we were done eating, and could leave. The wait staff and bartender looked like they wished they could leave, too.

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.

Foot traffic only...

Our day started and ended in Olympia, with the in-between taken on back roads and trails, hiking to a few geocaches, and to a beautiful lake on Key Peninsula. We didn't even know this one existed; a signpost across from a public landing on another lake gave it away. We grabbed our packs and walking sticks and headed up the steep hill through the woods. The trees gave way to a clear-cut full of foxgloves in full bloom, then plunged back into woods again.

We crossed a creek on a footbridge someone made by laying boards on top of a log jam... a bit creepy but stable enough. If I'd hiked in my Keens I would just have waded the creek. Up one more steep hill and a turn to the right, and there was the lake. Crystal clear and full of fish (and mosquitos!), it was beautiful. We sat on the shore and ate a snack, and watched the fish rise. I wish we'd brought our fly rods; wonder if we could hike in with float tubes?

The best thing, though, was this beautiful marsh created by a beaver dam. It was full of birds and choked with dead trees, and the water reflected the deep blue sky.

We ended the day at Fish Tale Brewing in Olympia, sandwiches and an IPA, talking about our day, and where the next adventure will take us.

Hide and seek, anyone?

We hiked Cedar Mountain again today, to pick up a few finals and just to get out in the woods again. It will be hot again, so we went early, and the morning light was beautiful.

Recovering...

Today was an easy day... which I felt was deserved, after five days of hiking. I slept in (until 7:00) and looked out the windows at the yard (and the weeds that just won't stop sprouting), did a little bit of quilting, and caught up with blog posts and photo editing.

My list of things to do keeps getting longer, but I just can't keep out of the woods and off the trails. Is there anything better than letting your feet take you exploring in a new place?

Prickly...

Today we hiked again near Cedar Mountain, and bushwhacked through acres of blackberry brambles and young maple trees. We climbed up rotten stumps and overgrown piles of logging slag. I ruined a pair of jeans.

All in the name of finding a geocache. A very sneaky, tough, geocache.

I was decidedly prickly after two hours of searching. Maybe not as prickly as the stalks and leaves of this Devil's Club, but close.

Hot and tired and prickly, but we found the cache.