Join Thor, Bear dog, and me for a rerun of one of our favorite hikes to the Goat Mountain overlook and a celebration of wildflowers.
Continuing our Geezer Adventures, Thor and I assessed the state of our aging bodies, and in between physical therapy appointments, seized the day for a return to Goat Mountain. We knew it would be a challenge, as I’m still dealing with tachycardia and shortness of breath that seem to have been triggered by my major lung-cancer surgery two years ago (I have never smoked, I hasten to add). My old nemesis, cervical stenosis, has also reared hits ugly neck this summer, so I’m taking medication that makes me loopy and not good for much writing, but my legs still mostly work. And Thor has weathered three surgeries this year, including a shoulder joint replacement, along with his permanent nerve damage in the right calf that requires a prosthetic device for walking. I’m not trying to elicit sympathy, but hopefully to demonstrate that there are still possibilities out there for everyone suffering the inevitable indignities of bodies well past their half-lives. This year, we didn’t make it to the top, which was a disappointment, but we made it to the alpine meadows rich with wildflowers and all that vast, clean blue sky etched by mountain peaks.
Since my photos of a previous hike were better than this year’s, here’s my rerun from 2018:
Tiger lilies seem especially abundant this year:
I’ve yet to identify these lush alpine-meadow plants sprouting among bleeding-heart (my Grandma Sara’s favorite), but always enjoy seeing their curling leaves on the way to the overlook. Can anyone name them?
But first things first: Here in the far corner of the Pacific Northwest, our Cascade mountains remain mostly snow-covered well into summer, so we check trail conditions before setting out for the high country Mount Baker Wilderness about an hour and a half drive from our home in Bellingham, WA. This week Thor, Bear dog, and I chose Goat Mountain for our midweek outing, as the ranger station reported the route was snow-free to the viewpoint 2900 feet and a lot of switchbacks above the trailhead on Hannegan Creek Road off the Mt. Baker Highway.
The trail doesn’t usually beckon a lot of hikers, maybe because the lower switchbacks climb through a somewhat gloomy forest that Thor dubbed “tree hell” because of still-evident devastation from a 50-year-old fire. There’s a quiet, watchful air that makes you feel like tiptoeing and apologizing for your intrusion as you climb over some downed trees and make your way past blackened survivors. However, I always enjoy checking on this charred husk to see if it’s still standing after all these years.
The trail is cut by a lot of cascades and runoff streams from the mountain above, so Bear dog enjoys fresh drinks and cooling dips on the way up.
And paying attention to the trail edges brings the reward of spotting shy blooms like pipsissewa with its jewel blooms like carved pink coral petals around a peridot center…
…and these twinflowers among the mossy or twiggy undergrowth.
As we climb higher, the trail livens up with the lovely songs of winter wrens, singing their tiny hearts out from their shy hiding places, the rat-tat-tat of pileated woodpeckers working the dead trees for insects or hopefully signaling paramours, and the chittering scolding of native chicory squirrels telling Bear they want nothing to do with him. For about a half-mile stretch of higher switchbacks, the path is now lined on both sides with these bunchberry (or miniature Canadian dogwood) blooms.
Mixed with the bunchberry are Queen’s cup lilies. When I was younger, we called these “bead lilies” for the large and shiny dark-purple berry each would produce. Passing between these blooms, I feel I’m in a royal procession, honored by these forest denizens offering their beauty to be admired.
The middle section of the switchbacks allows more sunlight and dense bushes and ferns, with yet more blooms…
…like these columbine…
…and monkey flowers:
The gorgeous blooms and butterflies help distract us from the persistent biting flies. Note: Remember bug juice!
Emerging at about the 3-mile point into the alpine meadow, we can start enjoying the views of surrounding ridges and still-snowy peaks.
Here, the recently-receding snow has allowed glacier lilies to bloom and quickly start fading.
In a soggy patch, I spot some bog lilies.
Reaching the rocky outcrops near Goat Mountain peak, we stop for lunch and views. This is Mount Shuksan, with the lower ski-area lodge and slopes toward the right just below the snowy ridge.
A bit farther to the west is Mount Baker, whose volcanic cone is still completely snow-covered.
Bear reveals his partial chow-chow genes by standing watch over the vistas. He loves to be up high, looking out and noticing any activity in the air or on the slopes below.
Heather blooms decorate our picnic spot, along with penstemon.
Geologist Thor points toward the tree line, which marks the top of the glacier that filled this area around 15,000 years ago. Above that, the peaks are rough and craggy, and below the grinding action of the glaciers as they moved and receded, the terrain is more smoothed and rounded.
It’s always a wonderful reset to just “be” in the high country, and put often-destructive human activity in context of the long history of the earth. We also love uplugging from media and phones, as there is nothing “virtual” about reality up here. It grounds my writing when I return to my computer the next day, working on my near-future novel with its Disconnect Movement of people rebelling against corporate/dictatorship media manipulation. (Hmm, maybe not so future…)
But back to “being” in the mountains! The shifting clouds this day are particularly striking above the peaks toward the north and the Canadian border:
Of course, after a hot and sweaty hike, we head down the pot-holed gravel road toward Hannegan Creek and a Brisk, refreshing snowmelt dip.
Tingling with the contrast of chilled skin and hot sunlight, we know we are alive! And these days, I give extra thanks each day for the gift of life and the blessing of living so close to the mountains and sea.
*****
You will find The Rambling Writer’s blog posts here every Saturday. Sara’s latest novel from Book View Café is Pause, a First Place winner of the Chanticleer Somerset Award and a Pulpwood Queens International Book Club selection. “A must-read novel about friendship, love, and killer hot flashes.” (Mindy Klasky). Sign up for her quarterly email newsletter at www.sarastamey.com
