Hiking the Middle Fork of the Snoqualmie

This morning, I read about paddling the Six Carries route in the Adirondacks.  It made me jump up and read it out loud to Mike as he was taking a shower.  I'm not sure he appreciates that kind of thing, but when he heard that it was about a place he knew and loved, it was okay.  Check it out, Musings, a blog that I really enjoy about being on the water.  I think that got me going, so after letting the boys hang out at home for two days this week, I was done with just sitting around.  I needed to get out.

Mike looked through our handy copy of 'Day Hiking: Snoqualmie Region,' one of the Mountaineers guide books.  It's great since we get tired of hiking in the same old places.  Our friend Alan Bauer is the photographer. I have never even seen a wild cat out in the woods and yet he has a picture in the book of a sleepy bobcat sunning itself on a rock. He must be an early dawn, quiet hiker.

It was a bumpy, dusty drive to get to the trailhead, but it was worth it from the very beginning.

The trail ran parallel with the river for a bit.  Mike nodded while I picked an imaginary route through a set of rapids before telling me, very sweetly, that we would never have paddled at this level even on one of our better days.  He was always better at reading the water than me. Here's what he said - "This part of the river doesn't lend itself to an open boat." Is that diplomatic or what?

About the time the trail moved off from the river, there were steep cliffs on our right.  I wondered if there were mountain goats on those sheer walls, but mosquitoes swarmed the minute I paused to look, so we kept moving.  I'll bet Alan Bauer doesn't even notice mosquitoes when he's taking his pictures.

It got late because we'd started late, but we didn't want to turn around just yet.  There were views we could see through the trees of mountains still covered in snow.  There is all this glory within an hour's drive of home.  I try never to get too used to it.  Finally, we admitted that we needed to turn around.

On the way back, I got nettled on my foot because I hadn't bothered to change from my Crocs into hiking shoes.  Hey, even for this short hike, I had seven of the Cub Scouts ten essentials, yet I didn't have socks.  The essentials are a whistle, a map, a compass, food, water, rain gear, a pocket knife, matches, sunscreen, and a first aid kit. The only one I regretted was not having was a map.  Nick laughingly told me I could rub a slug on my nettled spot.  A ranger had once told him that slug slime has a natural analgesic that will take away the sting.  I don't see myself doing that even if it wouldn't freak out the slug.  I've made peace with the multitude of slugs in this area.  They don't bite.  They don't growl.  I used the back side of a sword fern instead.  It works, though Nick said that the slug slime works better. 

We got back to the river and walked out on a large flat rock at its edge.  Nick and Mike snacked on the food from my pack, leaving a small can of tomato juice for me.  Nick drank from my canteen with his mouth full.  Ew.  'It's all yours,' I thought.  If we'd been going further, we'd each have had a canteen and more than Corn Nuts and turkey jerky to eat.  A couple of years ago, I bought five Kleen Kanteens and I've been having trouble keeping track of them ever since.  They go everywhere with us, to school, on errands, on bike rides, to karate, to snowboard lessons, and even on hikes.  Mike has banged the bottom back into a couple of them so they'll stay standing on a flat surface.

Then, as the sun got lower on the water, we headed back down the trail.  We dawdled, not wanting the day to be over, picking and eating salmonberries along the way and spitting off the bridge into the water. 

Life is good, don't you think?

Thank you for listening, jb