By Kelly Sanderbeck, Donor Engagement Manager
It was just another workday. But, how can a day in North Cascades National Park ever be JUST a workday? I was tasked to take all our new collateral around to specific locations in the park — brochures, license plate cards, and other information about the Fund (most interesting to folks is the updated Your Gifts in Action, which you can read about in our Annual Report). Since this took the better part of the day, I decided to spend the night at Colonial Creek Campground to get a hike in the next morning. I had originally hoped to hike Cascade Pass but, after checking with the rangers, learned the road was not yet passable because of winter flooding (and will need MAJOR repairs). So, as with all early season hiking, I let go of any expectations and instead settled on flexibility.
After all, it was still June. Twenty-five years ago when I moved to Seattle, we couldn’t get out into the mountains without snow until July, and the cold rain continued to pelt us the entire way through ‘Junuary!’ I’ve heard said that “the only upside of climate change is that Seattle now gets a REAL summer.” (A boon for us hikers, but not so good otherwise…). So, I chose snow-free 4th of July Pass instead and planned for an early a.m. start.
First, though, was settling into my camp spot for the evening. Knowing that the weather would be unpredictable, I had made sure my tent was newly seam-sealed and the rain fly was up. I carted along my requisite 4-in foam mat (I have earned it…) and down sleeping bag. Then, venturing out to Thunder Creek with my journal, I sat in mud flats that had probably been under water just a month before. A strange, out of context, smell wafted and I finally figured out I was sitting on some kind of wild mint! That sensual experience — along with the aqua/turquoise water, diving birds and blustering wind — was absolutely luscious (along with my half-frozen burrito).
The 4th of July Pass hike runs along Thunder Creek at first, and I was reminded of an experience last year when I got to accompany a Ranger-led hike here that was part of a park package from our auction (with a catered picnic afterward that included roasted lemonade and pulled-pork sandwiches). We learned about ‘cubic butt rot’ in downed trees and the ‘vertical relief’ that occurs more in the North Cascades than anywhere else in the country. Rock walls along the way rose higher than my house and the Douglas firs seemed to scrape the sky. Fog littered on the peak-tops, and that ultra-special spring green filtered through scorched trees from past years of burning. Never trusting the weather at this time of year, I had rain gear and extra layers and a warm jacket stuffed into my backpack. This time, luckily, I just needed a hat at the top, as the temperature dipped at least 10 degrees.
I was lucky to go on another hike a few weeks ago at Mount Rainier – Eagle Peak Saddle — after our Board and staff retreat. Even though we had predictions of rain and thunderstorms for the weekend, all remained dry as we sat inside with the mountain peeking out its nose in a tease during the cloudy and cool days. At the end of the event, I set off on my own and of course it began to rain! (I did make sure to tell someone else where I was headed…). Determined, though, to get in an outdoor stretch, I added rain gear, checked the time and scrappily charged ahead.
Soon into the trees, the rain diminished as I proceeded on the soft trail with steady elevation and nary another person in sight. I got just shy of the top, and it got very dark, started to rain, then started to sleet/snow, then started to thunder! I decided that forging on with my lightning-rod poles was not a good idea, so I turned back. First, though, was to add on my self-named ‘armies’ — cut off sleeves from my old polypro shirts that I layered onto my always-cold arms. I thought it was a $1M dollar idea, but later learned they were already a product designed for cyclists… Ah well.
So remember, as you venture out this early season, to think ahead without expectations, but plenty of preparation. Consider joining the Board and staff of the Fund as we take folks out on Donor Hikes this summer!
*#1 of the Leave No Trace Seven Principles. © 1999 by the Leave No Trace Center for Outdoor Ethics: www.LNT.org.