Chuckanut Mountain

Yesterday morning, I met up with my friend Jason and his dog, Odin, for a hike. The weather was gray and not actively raining, but had been all morning. We parked at Arroyo and cut up Hemlock trail to the 'new' Hush-hush trail that loops up with Salal trail. It is the perfect distance to wear out some dogs and breath a little fresh air. You really get to burn your glutes (aka ass) on the way up, since you persistently gain elevation for the first 2 miles. When you get to the top and cut down into the woods, it is like entering another dimension. The trail winds broadly through dense second and third growth forests with a heavy understory of moss, ferns and salal, among other species. It began to hail and the deafening noise of the ice breaking through the canopy and the sight of thousands of ice-balls bouncing off the forest floor was magical. Through a dense, gray, low-lying cloud that tasted like dew and cooled the lungs, we emerged into a flat bench area that conjures fairy-tale imagery. Perched at the steep side of the mountain and engulfed in the mist, you can imagine the freedom you must feel if you could fly.

My magical moment is interrupted by a rush of flying dogs hurling their bodies down the narrow, muddy and windy trail at full speed, narrowly averting my knees. Such precision in what outwardly appears to be total chaos. Jason is a good hiking buddy. We are strangely similar in a lot of ways, probably a Taurus thing, but also couldn't be any more different in others. Our friendship had its start when we were both assigned to the same 1 x 1 unit at field school, and literally spent 3 weeks jammed down in a small hole together. It was nice to be able to talk one on one, without having to scream at one another in a bar. The dogs also enjoyed themselves completely, as was evidenced by the amount of mud each one was giving a ride. A thick, brown, chocolate-mud river flushed off Faelan's little body when I made her go into the creek after a stick to get rinsed off. All in all, a nice way to spend an early December day, especially considering that the ski area isn't open yet. We make do.

Jason and I at field school, July 2000.