The forecast for Saturday was drizzly and extremely windy, so I stayed in and watched Florida State (barely) beat Miami and Kentucky (barely) fall to Alabama. By Sunday I was getting antsy in my apartment and drove 90 minutes northeast to the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest.

The park stretches 150 miles along the I-5 corridor, almost to the Canadian border, and I chose a random entry point on the southern end. At the visitor’s center I reviewed some maps and elected to try the Mt. Pilchuck Lookout Trail - three miles of rocky trail, gaining 2,200 feet of altitude and promising a great view from the top. It was in the mid-50’s at the bottom of the trail, which I accessed by driving 7 miles up a rutted and steep gravel road. The landscape was almost temperate rainforest, which turned into pines and rocks higher on up.

Bottom of the trail, 3,100 feet.

^ A few hundred yards into the trail, it got, shall we say, rocky

^ A dense fog obscured most of the view on the way up

^ About a mile into the hike, I passed the snowline. It got chillier.

^ By now the trail consisted of rocks, slush, and rocks covered in slush

^ My destination

^ This was the view from the top when I got there. Too foggy to see anything at all. 5,324 feet.

^ When the guidebook labels a trail as “strenuous”, you might want to pay attention to that.

^ Turns out this guy was born in Spartenburg, SC. We talked about The Beacon, a local restaurant that will keep you up all night if you eat supper there.

^ After ten minutes and a sandwich, the view cleared a little…

^ …then closed again

^ A side of the small wooden lookout structure, looking down. Apparently this used to be a heli-skiing area.

^ It was windy and in the 30’s (if that) at the top.

^ I’m walking back down, now

^ Where I just was

^ This is an accurate portrayal of most of the trail. It was like walking through a small creek, stepping on rocks the whole way. I had gone to REI the day before and bought a great day-trip backpack, which had chest and waist straps and sat high and tight and moved with me, as opposed to my high school backpack which bounced around like an amateur cowboy on a mechanical bull. But all the hiking boots I tried on, even the wide versions, were too narrow, so I was relegated to wearing old tennis shoes. Everyone else at the top was sporting very expensive-looking hiking boots, which no doubt kept their feet dry, while I had to step on the jagged rock points jutting out of the water.

^ I’ve seen waterfalls, and I’ve seen snow, but I don’t think I’ve seen them together.

^ Looking back at the top. After this picture my camera batteries gave out, which isn’t surprising after 869 shots.

It began to rain about halfway down, then rained harder. It wasn’t pouring, but it was still about the level of no-interval-delay-on-your-car’s-windshield-wipers. I finally gave up dodging puddles and trudged along in the mud.

At home I took a hot shower and made a supper of homemade granola and green tea. Just kidding, it was three frozen chimichangas and two bottles of beer. I haven’t been in Seattle that long.