I just got back from a three-day backpacking trip over Labor Day weekend with friends, two of which I went on a five-day all-women backpacking trip in July 2013. As I was cleaning out files and emails today, I found this trip report that I never posted and it reminded me of the good times we had. I thought I’d finally share. Forewarning, it’s long. 

August 2013

“Who needs to pump?”

This was a question often asked during my five-day backpacking trip in the North Cascades National Park recently. It was an all-ladies trip, and while none of us were anywhere near nursing babies, for some reason I couldn’t help but think, “Breast pump?”

(“Pumping” was for filtering water out of streams to prevent bacteria in our drinking water).

Ah, the all woman-trip. This was my very first one (unless you count the Mt. Rainier climb, which was just another beast in itself) and it was more than I expected but also less than I expected but in a very good way.

It’d been a pretty crazy few months prior to this trip, so busy that I felt like I couldn’t catch a breath. I needed some serious solo time so badly I was contemplating bagging out of the trip a week prior and just doing a road trip down the West Coast for five days. But, I’d made the commitment months ago and it was on a weekend that (shockingly) didn’t involve training or volunteering or family commitments.

Once I started packing, I felt much better. I had a goal. I had deadlines. I had to think about the various elements we’d be in (rain/snow/cold was minimal but always considered) and what food to bring (stuff that needed hot water only). Group gear to share with the others, did I really need to bring a baggie of electrolytes, shelf bra-shirt vs shirt & sports bra, shorts or capris, hiking boots or mountaineering boots, do I really need gloves, which hat, etc.

The dinners were an issue though. I usually carry in fresh food for overnight trips, which is heavy but I don’t mind. But this was my first multi-day trip in years, so weight was an issue. My digestive system doesn’t like the huge portions in the dehydrated backpacking meals from the camping food sections at the store but in the end, due to time, that’s what I had to go with. For some reason, my head was so determined that those meals had to be cooked in the foil pouches they come in, it wasn’t until 10 miles into the trip at our first camp site that I realized I could dump them out, divide them in half for separate meals. I did just that and, imagine that, my stomach wasn’t upset after eating half a package.

The itinerary – start at Hannegan Pass trailhead near Mt. Baker, hike 17 miles (over two days) to Whatcom Pass. Spend two nights there, attempt Whatcom Peak and/or visit Taptos Lakes, then hike out the 17 miles (over two days) to the car. Total mileage was about 35-40 miles with total elevation gained and lost, 10,000-12,000 feet.

The group consisted of five women, ages ranging from 30s to 70s. Some of us hiked faster than others, some of us enjoyed the destination more than the trek, some of us preferred climbing straight up instead of switchbacking, some of us liked to hike solo. At the end of the day, none of these things mattered as we sat around the camp stove sharing stories, advice (on both outdoor and non-outdoor experiences) and laughing at each other (like my 5 lbs. bag of oatmeal, which, ironically, I despise).

My favorite moment of the entire trip was the last night, after we’d set up the tents at Copper Creek Camp but weren’t ready for dinner. We were sitting by the creek, passing around the last of the pomegranate liquor. The trees were far-reaching into the cloudless sky, the creekbed was wide, but the rushing water wasn’t deafening. The water temperature was perfect for a quick bath and soaking our worn feet. I was thinking how a portion of civilization wishes they were doing this right now. It hit me how fortunate I was to have the strength, health and opportunity to be in this environment at this moment. I was in the company of some incredibly strong female mountaineers whose accomplishments I admired. Yet, at the same time, it was just five women hanging out as comfortably as we would in the backyard of someone’s house.

Highlights of the trip:

Hiking speed – yeah, I’m one of those who likes to zoom up the hill. After spending seven years of trying to keep up with 6′ tall guys, you kinda learn to step it up a bit, no matter the weight on the back. But this trip had no guys. And it had no speed. And we all got to the same place at the same time, no matter how fast any of us went. Some of us could have jumped ahead and said, see ya at camp, but what’s the fun in that? You miss out on conversations, laughter and learning from each other. I also used the opportunity to do what one should on a vacation (since this pretty much WAS my summer vacation) – slow down and purposefully wander toward camp.

Cable Car Crossing – Between U.S. Cabin and Graybeal Camp, the creek is too big to ford, so a cable car system has been set up to haul yourself and your pack a couple hundred feet above and across the creek.

Whatcom Peak – one of the “To Do” items on the itinerary was to climb Whatcom Peak, at the most northern end of the Picket Range, which has a reputation for being a beautiful area but difficult to access. As we hiked in and Whatcom Peak loomed above us, all I saw was the north side of the peak – a knife-edge ridge with thousands of feet of exposure. The idea was to climb it while roped up, using flukes for running belays on the snow and webbing and slings to hook around rocks as we climbed. I had an idea about the techniques but had never done this “hook around rocks” type of climbing before and was a little nervous. The whole time I had that north side of the peak in my view, I kept thinking, “Oh god, I hope we’re not climbing that and that we’re climbing the snow ramp on the south side of the peak.”

The night before the climb, we pulled out maps and explored our options: climb that knife-edge ridge or do the traverse around the peak to the south side, which involved climbing the Challenger Glacier, the latter of which I was definitely more comfortable.

When we started out the next morning, we decided to try the traverse first, but as we got closer to the glacier, the only safe place to cross it was completely crevassed. So we turned around and headed toward the knife ridge. My stomach started to drop. The hike up to the base of the peak was lovely, fun rock scrambling and a little snow travel. But the last half-hour toward our decision point, my stomach kept dropping. We finally stopped at the base of the peak, dropped our packs and stared upward.

Fay, the 70-something mountaineer who is regionally famous for being a bad-ass climber, looked at me and said, “Tiffany, tell me what you think, honestly.”

“Fay, for the past 30 minutes, I’ve been scared shitless.”

“Oh, good, then I wasn’t the only one.”

After a good 20 minutes of solid contemplation, what-ifs, if-onlys, and I-wasn’t-expecting-that-much-exposure discussions, we decided to call it and turn around. Beth joined Maria at Taptos Lakes, Fay and I climbed to an unnamed high point, after which I decided to call it a day and headed back down to the lakes (lunch, nap and lake time sounded awesome) while Fay joined Eileen on Red Face Mountain for a quick summit.

Then the five of us spent the rest of the afternoon napping at the lake until about 6 p.m., when we decided the black flies/mosquitos/no-see-ums at camp would have tapered down a little.

At that point, I decided that this trip qualified for the perfect vacation:

Luggage

Good food

Good beverages

Good company

Unique locale with amazing views

Away from home

Perfect weather

Adventure

Very little money spent

I later blurted out this list to Maria in the car and she said, “What? Where? Sign me up!”

“You just had that vacation.”

10:05 a.m. February 10, 2014

For the first time in four weeks, I didn’t leave Bremerton to go skiing. With the unexpected snow fall that hit Kitsap Saturday night, and the uncertainty of how Lucille would do without chains on the mountain passes on the way to a trailhead, I decided to call it Saturday night and stick to Kitsap Sunday. But not without taking a page out of Kevin’s book and did an hour-long night ski around Bremerton with my XC skis. I’ve always wanted to do that. I went up 11th, over the Manette Bridge, did a couple laps up and down the main drag in Manette, much to the delight of the folks out and the bar-goers, as I slowly “skied” downhill in an Olympic fashion. Then chugged my way back to my house. It was exhilarating. And apologies to my tenant for clomping around in my boots at 11:30 p.m. when I got back. 

It was a delight to sleep in Sunday morning, but I also had this nagging feeling that Don and his pup Jerry The Springer (yes, that was intentional, he’s that kinda guy) would show up knocking on my door step at 9 a.m. Whenever it snows (which is rare) I can always count on those two coming by to ask if I can come outside and play. Thankfully, the kind sir waited until 10 a.m. to call, called me a lazy bum for still being in bed and then we made plans for 11:30 a.m. Off to Theler Wetlands to check out the trails and new estuary restoration and give him a chance to play with his new camera and do some duck sight seeing. It was such a nice way to get out without actually any effort. I needed it. Followed up with some good ol’ fashioned Mexican food and then off to drop in on some friends Joe and Marlene and their kids who have a beautiful home and property overlooking Hood Canal while taking the backroads of Kitsap that I’d surprisingly never been on. 

(this is the most boring 15 Minutes EVER but for a monday morning, it’s really just a writing warm up for me. you know, like in third grade, when we’d be given a prompt and you had 10 minutes to write anything stemming from that prompt. I remember struggling with that one some days and then kinda going crazy with the imagination on other days, then i’d be too embarrassed to share it. The teacher was always amused though). 

what else what else… made tortilla soup last night, which i’d been craving for a week. Made it paleo-style, which just means no cheese and sour cream and tortilla strips and it is still unbelievably delicious. It’s one of those days when lunch can’t come soon enough. 

six more minutes six more minutes

this week should be relatively low key, compared to last week’s Boldt decision celebration. I’m looking forward to cranking things off my to-do list and ending the week with a long weekend of Valentine’s Day cocktails with a few of my favorite Seattle Valentines, going hiking, skiing, maybe do an OMR patrol at Hurricane Ridge. Most definitely ski – the rain this week is going to bring on some amazing powder! I’ve been so good this year focusing on becoming a better skier with my mantra to ski EVERY WEEKEND POSSIBLE for as long as the snow is good or until I get burned out. I’m alternating between resort and backcountry (and that fun little XC outing), took a lesson, focusing on my body position and giving up a little fear on the whole control thing. or more like learning how to better ski with a little more speed but with control. that’s my biggest fear is getting out of control and then I go ass-over-tea-kettle and yard sale. I’m really learning that it comes down to body positioning. It’d also be cool to shoot for a straight year of Turns All Year – where you ski at least once a month for a year, which is completely do-able out here. Although with the low snow pack we’ve had this season, we’ll see, It’d be rough in August and September. But I know folks who have gone up those months, found a long finger of snow and bam, it totally counts. 

Just like I counted XC on Saturday night toward my weekly ski outing. 

Let’s see… need to vote, i have a terribly ripe banana next to me, my right shoulder is tweaked (boo, no TRX or boot camp, so that just means lots of cardio, which I need anyway b/c I gained 7 lbs over Xmas yay oreo cookies) and my smart phone is slowing down but that’s probably because I drop it and abuse and ask more of it that i should but it’s damn computer practically, much more than a a phone. 

10:20 a.m.

shew.

The desktop wallpaper on my computer is a picture of my 2.5 year old nephew, Nipote, that my sister sent to me recently. He’s on the floor of my mother’s kitchen, looking up and cocking his head to the left a little while making his “Cheese” smile at the camera, while pushing his new little wooden train, filled with little wooden people and his Brutus, the OSU mascot doll. It was taken the day after I’d left Ohio, where I had spent 10 days visiting for the holidays, mostly as a result of moving my sister and Nipote from Washington State to Ohio, right after Christmas.

My sister lived in Kitsap County for just more than a year. She and I hadn’t lived within driving distance of each other for years. The last time I remember sharing a living environment with her was 1998. That made it 15 years since we’d lived in an area where we saw each other on a regular basis, much less the same house.

Bottomline: After living in the PNW for 10.5 years with no family nearby, I spent 2013 with my sister and her family. Aside from work, mountain rescue training and missions, and the occasional social gathering, I saw the family 2-3x a week. A lot of people thought that was excessive. I thought it’s what you do when family lives close, especially when you know that they are only here temporarily. And it was no secret that I struggled with that balance. That said, I don’t regret a second I spent with them, and probably regret a few times I didn’t spend with them, but life isn’t about regrets.

I exposed them to my friends, my forests, my foods, my hobbies, my lifestyle, my choices. I tried to brainstorm things we could do that involved a toddler (it was hard at first but I think I got better over time). Not everything took (I didn’t expect it to)  but it did two things: 1) it further proved to my sister I was a definite treehugger in her eyes and 2) we found some social commonalities. It was lots of fun to reconnect and realize how much we are similar (sense of humor, cooking) and different (hobbies, problem solving). It was awesome to be a part of Nipote’s life and watch him develop from a scrambling 1.5 year old babe-in-arms to 2.5 year old sprinting toddler. He and I became best buds – we colored, cooked, built forts, danced, learned to read, learned to say Zia, walked the dog, played in the sandbox, went on hikes, learned how to make the sound of every animal imaginable, and found just about every tractor and train ride we could in Kitsap County. I saw the world through different eyes – and learned that I’m a lot like a toddler. I like to do stuff and always be doing stuff.

But now we’re in 2014 and life feels like it’s come to a shuttering halt. Kinda like when Nipote doesn’t want us to do something or we need him to stop, we yell “RED LIGHT!” at each other and throw out an open hand, much like we’re stopping traffic. 

RED LIGHT, indeed, 2014.

I suddenly find myself back to my selfish single hippie, homemade granola eating, jumping the ferry whenever, carseat-less life. My weeks are open to play in the mountains for six weeks in a row or work on the house for six weeks in a row. I already have a few things lined up for this first week I’m back, but my calendar, it seems, is blank for the first time in a long time. I’m not saying it’s a good or bad thing. It’s just a little sad to know that there’s no longer a highly energetic 2.5 year old in Silverdale waiting for his Zia to come over and play. So, I don’t know, I guess I feel kinda empty inside. 

I think I just feel the need to bring my life back up to where it was in 2012, before The Year of Family. But when I look back on that year and the year before it, and the year before it, it all goes back to my March 2013 post. 

I was pretty busy. And pretty tired. And pretty tired of being pretty busy.

I need to find some focus in 2014. I need to narrow down goals. I have areas I want to explore and things I want to do. At the same time, there are some areas of my life that need some desperate motivation and new energy.

I guess this is a New Year’s Resolution post. At least a place to write down The List, but also remember to give myself a RED LIGHT when needed. Some things are huge, some are small, some are vague, some are specific. But my friend at The Wandering Gourmand made a good point – make them achievable. 

Learn to play the ukulele

Make the big mirror frame and coffee table.

Make/Buy a vanity for the bathroom. 

Take a weeklong road trip down the 101. 

Climb Mt. Baker and Glacier Peak.

Dedicate a week in May to mountain rescue training. 

Finish another component of my yard.

Buy a calendar to plan all this.

It’s a slow week so it’s a good time to kill these long hours by (trying to) catch up on a few video projects for work.

So, I start to transfer some video from my camera to my computer.

Warning! You’ve run out of space on your computer!

OK, so I need to transfer files from my computer to my external/backup drive. 

Warning! Your external drive that is PC-formatted won’t accept these Mac-formatted files! 

OK, so I need to reformat my PC-based external drive to accept the Mac files.

Warning! You’ll need to erase your external drive to reformat!

OK, so I need to back and re-back up six years worth of audio, video, photo and word files onto disks and online and also ask the boss for another external drive.

Good thing it’s a slow week. 

(And yes, I’m fully aware at how incredibly inept I am at backing up files and formatting stuff. And how unimpressive it is be able to fill up 750 GB hard drive in 9 months. I take a lot of video and photos.)

15 minutes: Spaghetti Sunset

9:37

I eat pretty late at night. These days, it’s around 9 p.m. I know it’s not good and I can’t help it but on Thursdays, it’s farmers market night and I’m busy trying to figure out what to do with last week’s produce while working in this week’s produce. What to cook, what to save, what will go in breakfast tomorrow, what I need to freeze.

But nights like these, I’m glad I waited until late. Just as I was rinsing the last of my strawberries, I looked behind me over at my cooling dinner. But the sunset in my picture window above the counter where my dinner sat caught my eye. There was a magnificent orange horizon with tinges of blues and purples in the clouds above it.

“That’s it,” I thought. “It’s time for dinner … on the porch.”

So no phone, no anything, just my bowl of farmers market veggies and tomato sauce spooned over a heaping pile of spaghetti squash, a glass of white wine and my latest favorite fleece (It IS summer in the Pacific Northwest. It wouldn’t be a summer evening without a fleece.)

And so I dragged my chair to the western most corner of my front porch so I could see the partial mountaintop view that comes out when the clouds are high or, for once, have disappeared.

The hues turned fast as they always do, but still slow enough to enjoy. At one point, the layer of clouds perfectly hovered above the mountains, leaving just enough sky to be filled in with purple and pinks. If I stretched my neck enough, I could see a layer of clouds in the foothills, just below the mountain peaks.

But the sunset has calmed down now, with the clouds simply turning a blueish grey. A thin line of pink sits just above the jagged peaks of the Olympics. Yet the pink makes a bigger impact with its reflection hitting the high level of clouds that are starting to overtake the skies above Bremerton.

My street is a main thoroughfare but not too busy. It’s four lanes wide but the city recently reduced it to two lanes with parallel parking replacing the outside lanes. People are slowly adjusting to parking on the busy street. We’re so used to the comforts of our side streets and parking permits.

It’s a decent summer evening in the PNW. Actually, it’s pretty typical for June. It’s been raining for a week straight, the type of rain we get typically in the winter, except it’s 35 degrees warmer, thankfully. It gives the allergies a break as well as our water bills. Affectionally referred to as “Juneuary.”

I sit on my front porch – it’s a long front porch probably nearly 30 feet long. It needs a party at some point this summer. A few walkers go by. Typically teens or 20-somethings. A few cars with loud music go by. Big engines roar. I recognize a few cars. There goes the lady who owns the shop down the street. There goes the little black car that lives three houses down from me. I can see the hospital in the distance; quiet, no emergency airlifts tonight.

I wonder where these people are going, driving by my house. Headed home. Headed to work. Headed to a friend’s house. Not very creative tonight with those thoughts.

My 15 minutes are almost up. The high clouds are still reflecting the thin pink line, which has disappeared now behind the mountains. The general color is still the bluish grey, with silhouettes of trees, power lines, houses, clouds and those jagged ridges of the Olympics on the horizon.

And look – Venus has risen above Mt. Jupiter.

9:52

I used to think my friend Kevin’s life was The Rule –  he works a regular 7-4 job during the week, focuses on chores, house projects and volunteer work in the evenings, then takes off to the mountains for the weekend to ski or backpack.

Sounds great, doesn’t it?

I thought it was “the” life a single 30-something should have living in the Pacific  Northwest. I wanted to be a mountain girl every weekend, getting views of mountaintops rarely seen in person and fantastic wildnerness adventures.

I tried it. I was exhausted. And I realized I’m not Kevin. In fact, assessing the lifestyles of my other friends, none of us are “Kevin.” He’s The Exception.

While we both have common interests, mutual friends, are homeowners with plenty of projects and are volunteers in the community, even for the same organization, I’ve realized I just lead a different life.

I definitely not just sitting at home waiting for someone to ask me to go hiking. I find myself booking girls weekends, planning hours-long bike rides on Saturday mornings, using 16 hours of sunlight in July to work in my gardens, or popping over to the city in the evening to visit friends. I’ve realized that I’ve chosen to do these things because I enjoy them as much as I enjoy the mountains.

So why do I feel so guilty for being so busy? Why do I feel like I should be there instead of here? Read the rest of this entry »

I present to you… the life of The Basement Apartment Bathroom:

(Major thanks to Randy, Candace and Clayton for ALL their help, in the past and this weekend, for elevating this poor little bathroom to a decent level of luxury.)

Read the rest of this entry »

Sunset while driving home from Skokomish, where I’d just spent the afternoon in the Skokomish Valley’s quaint historic Grange Hall, with a view of the valley, and geeked out on watershed habitat restoration projects.

I was taking a break from being a designer (the one of four times a year i do that) and perused some old blogs of mine. Remembered how well I used to write back in the day when writing daily was a requirement for work.

http://www.everyfrog.com/Words.htm

Will post the thoughts/attempted twitters from WordCamp Portland and about blogging later. Solo road trip this weekend gave way to lots o’ thoughts about lots o’ stuff.