Daring to be Heathy!

"At the trailhead of Dog Mountain in the Columbia River Gorge."  ~ photo by Lee G Young  © 2014

It doesn’t take much effort for me to do the things that jeopardize my health. Eating sugary foods is always a temptation, even though it aggravates my allergies, and staying up late and not getting enough quality rest seems to come naturally for me, in spite of the resulting lack of energy. But the most noticeable challenge to my health is more to my emotional state, rather than my physical. When I’m not out walking on a regular basis, and especially when I’m not hiking in nature, I tend to lapse into depressed feelings, which, in turn, invite negative self talk and judgement. With the influence of the new “normal” lifestyle of being continually “plugged into” some kind of electronics, and usually assuming a sedentary position in front of a some sort of screen, I need to always be vigilant in my personal care - especially with the exercise part!

"A view of the gorge from the trail going upward."  ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

Reading what experts say about exercise, I found that where you exercise is as important as the exercise itself. Dr. Michael Nirenberg, who has written articles in the American Wanderer, compares the infinite benefits of walking outdoors to the practice of walking indoors on a treadmill. He says, that there is “no substitute for the wonder and health benefits of actually experiencing the grandeur of our natural environment while walking.” Many scientists argue that, in addition to the physical health benefits, like promoting longer and deeper refreshing sleep, exercising in fresh air is found to improve one’s mood, which usually results in a more positive outlook on life.

"Heart shapes created by sunlight through the trees."  ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

Even though recent scientific studies have supported the benefits of walking outdoors, people have known this to be true for a very long time. For centuries, the Japanese have used the term “shinrin-yoku”, which means “forest bathing”. Rather than involving a soak in a tub among the trees, this word refers to spending time in the woods and feeling the relaxing and healing  influence of nature, both in your body and in your mind. This ancient wisdom is now supported by scientists, as they have discovered that, when outdoors in a forest or by a lake, you breathe in active substances released by plants called phytoncides. Plants release phytoncides to protect themselves against insects and from rotting, but you benefit, as they lower blood pressure, reduce stress and help to boost the immune system. 

"Signs to the summit."  ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

Okay, hiking in the woods is great for us…. but what about a difficult hike like, Dog Mountain in the Columbia Gorge area? Is there any advantage to challenging yourself that much? I asked myself that question, as I was planning to tackle that steep and rapidly ascending trail on the Washington side of the Columbia River. It turns out that, if you are physically able, there is a very good reason! In the most recent issue of Sierra Magazine, a publication of the Sierra Club, I read an interesting article entitled, “The Science of Awe.” It tells how scientists, in a study, are “charting what happens when nature blows your mind.” We have seen what happens when someone, like John Muir, gets inspired by his experience in nature. After his life-altering treks in the Sierra Mountains, Muir authored poetic-like writings that inspired a major conservation movement. 

"Determined to make it!"  ~ photo by Lee G Young  © 2014

In wanting to explore how the science of nature elicits a response of awe and inspiration, University of California psychologist, Dacher Keltner, is now conducting a study to measure the long term physical benefits of awe and, for the first time, is moving the laboratory out into the natural world. He says, “We want to engage with people and observe them when they’re really out there on the river or lying under the stars.” Keltner has observed that when people are asked to recall awe-inspiring experiences, they often cite nature. He says, “Fleeting and rare, experiences of awe can change the course of a life in permanent ways.”  If feeling awe is a stimulus that can force people to revise their mental frames of reference, then Dog Mountain, with its breathtaking views of the Columbia River, as it winds its way through that scenic gorge, has the potential to turn around any negative thinking in me!

"A scene of the gorge from the lower viewpoint of Dog Mountain."  ~  photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

So with the possible benefits of of inspiring awe, I put on my hiking boots, slipped on my daypack filled with goodies and extra water, and grabbed my hiking stick as I headed off to make my ascent of Dog Mountain. Climbing the trail, I had to stop often to catch my breath, as I made my way up the steep, rocky inclines; however, the real challenge I faced was that inner voice that broadcasted my self doubt and fear. “Turn back, you crazy lady!” it shouted at me. “You could slip and fall and kill yourself! Turn back now!” Refusing to be defeated by my fear, I kept reminding myself of those jaw-dropping photos I could take when I arrived at the viewpoints.  (My ego can sometimes override my fear.)

With determination and refusing to to look over and down at the vast expanse between the high cliff walls of the gorge, I centered my focus on the narrow rocky trail, as it relentlessly meandered upward. Like a mantra, I told myself over and over that I was safe and secure and had all the ability I needed to successfully make it to the top. I also recalled a walking idol of mine, Hulda Crooks, who in her 90’s, hiked up Pike’s Peak numerous times. I remembered that she was convinced that hiking mountains was necessary for personal growth.  She said, “That’s where you build character…. on a mountaintop!” 

"A challenging trail led up to this upper viewpoint."  ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

And indeed, as I arrived at the upper viewpoint of Dog Mountain, shaking a bit from my struggle with fear, I felt empowered as I turned toward the panoramic view of the gorge. Amazed that I made it that far, I felt perhaps I had more grit and skill than I had previously thought. In scanning the awesome view that I had avoided on that narrow upward-climbing trail, all I could think of now, as I gazed at this scenic wonder, was, “Wow!” The awe I felt, as I marveled at the majestic view of the gorge, dissipated my fear - almost immediately. All struggle of the difficult ascent was gone, and in its place was a feeling of reverence -  what someone might feel upon entering a grand cathedral. I seemed to connect with a wonderfully expanded awareness that had replaced my small limiting self perceptions. Maybe, that was the “mountaintop experience” that Hulda was referring to! I wasn’t a fearful, shaky “crazy lady” any more. On the mountaintop of Dog Mountain, I was a competent, capable, and courageous woman!

"Wind Mountain is seen from the upper trail."  ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

History tells us how the Chinook, as well as many other native tribes, used a “mountain experience” in their rites of passage for youth who were coming-of-age. The young boy, in looking for his inner resources that could “carry” him to manhood, would climb alone up a mountain, like Dog, or nearby Wind Mountain, relying only on himself.The wise elders of the tribe knew that the inexperienced boy would move through feelings in his climb upward, probably similar to those I felt.They foresaw that when he reached the summit and looked out at the magnificence of creation, a wiser and more knowing part of himself would awaken. And the chances of him living out his life’s purpose would be much greater due to that “mountaintop experience”. Perhaps that awe and reverence that he would feel when connecting to the sublime in nature, might even be extended to include himself, as well as, others.

""Feeling 'on top of it' on Dog Mountain!"  ~ photo by Lee G Young  © 2014

I believe, as the psychologist Keltner does, that an experience of awe, like the stunning vista from the top of Dog Mountain, can become the foundation for a healthier body and a happier mind. It’s the treasure you find on a mountaintop that reveals the true “mountaintop experience” you seek, and it's really within you. That “mountaintop experience”, which can manifest in many different ways, is unique for each of us….. it’s whatever is in your life that challenges you to see beyond your fear to a vision of who you truly are. Yes, Dog Mountain did it for me!
                                          by Carol E. Fairbanks, W. W. W.  © 2014

The Presence of the Past

"Meeting the Bigfoot family at the Discovery Park in North Bonneville, Washington."  photo by Lee G Young  © 2014

When thinking of the past, we usually consider it to be finished and over with. We believe it no longer exists and cannot be seen in today’s world. But even though the past is out of sight, the events leading up to the present are still very much a part of today, continuing to affect our attitudes and choices. The past is present, yet elusive…kind of like Bigfoot, that is rumored to have lurked for many years in forests of the Pacific Northwest. Reports of sightings of these ape-like creatures, also known as Sasquatch (meaning “wild man in the woods”), have been documented in myths by Indians, long before early explorers made their way out west. Explorers of the northwest in the 1800’s reported many sightings of this creature, while others claimed to have only discovered their huge footprints in the woods. And today, the State of Washington, where I did my hike along the Columbia River, is considered a “hot spot” for Bigfoot activity. Even though most people have not seen an actual Bigfoot, the lore and legend of Sasquatch still affects all of us to some degree. So many sightings have been reported in Skamania County’s forested hills that in 1969 the County Board of Commissioners passed an ordinance against the slaying of a Bigfoot. Today, after some revision, that county ordinance states that killing a Bigfoot is punishable by up to one year in the county jail and/or $1000 fine.

"From the trail on Strawberry Island, beautiful cliffs of Columbia Gorge can be seen."  photo by Carol E Fairbanks © 2014

Like Bigfoot, past historic events, although out of sight, still touch us today in the ways we think, act and talk. So, whether it’s a Bigfoot sighting or a settlement by early explorers, those historic accounts add to the wonderful adventure and mystique of hiking in the Northwest. In this area of quiet and sparsely inhabited land, along a scenic stretch of the Columbia River, many dramatic events have occurred, shaping the settlement and development of the entire Pacific Northwest. Away from the busy urban area, where I live, my walk from North Bonneville Discovery Park through Strawberry Island and Fort Cascades National Historic Site gave me a glimpse of the struggles and drama of the people who explored and made this land their home. 

"A historic photo of the military Block House, built for protection, taken from a trail sign at Fort Cascade National Historic Site." 

Stories of Indians, explorers, fur traders, soldiers, settlers, railroad workers and fisherman all make up the rich cultural heritage of this area of Columbia Gorge. The trails along the bank of the Columbia River and through the woods of the Ft. Cascades Site are peaceful and quiet, but the informative signs and historic markers along the way were to me a frequent reminder of the important activity that happened there in the past. Lessons from impressive accomplishments, like the Cascade Portage Railroad, to the questionable practices, like the Warren Fishwheel, continue to teach us as we work today to adapt and prosper in our own communities. The one and one half mile interpretive trail through the Ft. Cascades National Historic Site is a stark reminder of the fragility of the structures and businesses we build, while never envisioning a day when they might cease to exist.  

"The site today where the Block House used to be is a field with a view of the Bonneville Dam." ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

After the army abandoned Ft. Cascades in 1861 at the start of the Civil War, civilians began moving into the vacated buildings, using them as residences and other community buildings. So, as Ft. Cascades faded from history, the town of Cascades began to grow and flourish. However, in 1894 the greatest recorded flood on the Columbia River ended that town, as it destroyed and swept away every remaining building. And the town of Cascades was never rebuilt. 

"A historc photo of the Cascade Portage Railroad taken from a trail sign at Fort Cascades National Historic Site." 

After many years of operating successfully and covering a distance of 6 miles from Hamilton Island to Stevenson in Washington, the Cascade Portage Railroad finally stopped their runs along the Columbia River. The building of the Transcontinental Railroad in 1883, along with the Great Flood of 1894 and the 1896 opening of the Cascades Canal and Locks, created setbacks for the portage railway, and finally, in 1907, the Cascade Portage Railroad was rendered obsolete and quit running altogether.

"The site of Cascade Portage Railroad as seen today at the Ft. Cascades Site." ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

Even though structures and whole communities of the past fade away, the people of long ago and their achievements continue to “speak” to us yet today. With the repeated floods of the Columbia River destroying nearly all traces of early native people, only a petroglyph still remains here as a reminder of those prehistoric inhabitants, who first made this area their home. While the original petroglyph is now in front of Skamania County Courthouse Annex, a replica of this rock carving can be seen along the interpretive walking trail through the Fort Cascades National Historic Site. Although the meaning of the carving is unknown, it still reminds us of the Cascade Indians that once lived in a village there. Those early native inhabitants were noted in the journal of explorers, Lewis and Clark, who passed through this area in search of a water route to the Pacific in November of 1805 and again returned in April of 1806. 

"On the Ft. Cascades trail, the replica of a stone age petroglyph that was discovered here can be seen".
~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

"A close up view of the petroglyph seems to have "eyes" from the past looking at you."
~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks

Like Lewis and Clark, I also saw the gorgeous river views and high rocky cliffs of the gorge, as I hiked the 4 mile wildlife walk on Strawberry Island. Lewis and Clark, while on the Corps of Discovery expedition, discovered Strawberry Island, naming it for its profusion of strawberry vines. In hiking past grassy fields and rolling hills, at this Lewis and Clark Heritage Site, I saw at a distance, Beacon Rock, an 848 rock monolith, that is actually a core of an extinct volcano. Originally named by Lewis and Clark on their way to the Pacific Ocean in 1805, Clark noted in his journal that Beacon Rock was “a remarkable and big detached rock”…. and stated that it “stands as a beacon on the land.”

"Beacon Rock, first described and named by explorers, Lewis and Clark, is seen at a distance on the trail."  ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

Walking this scenic path was truly an interesting and informative walk through history. As I followed the historic events of the past on this trail, I realized how the lives of those, who have passed through here before us, affect and influence the present. From their rich experience, they have left a legacy of knowledge and relationship to the land that influence us to the present day. Their vivid memory inspires us to stay committed to our ideals, in spite of any struggles we may encounter. They teach us about the flow of life experience, that continues regardless of any insurmountable obstacles that may happen. Today, we can see how everyone’s achievements in the past weave together a tapestry of human endurance and ingenuity. And this tapestry of remarkable experience, created by those courageous explorers, settlers and native indigenous people of the past, provides us with a foundation upon which we can “walk” into the future. 

"Looking westward on the trail by the Columbia River... a river that Lewis and Clark once boated down."  ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

The Native American saying, “Every step you take is supported by 1000 ancestors” came alive, as I walked along those trails by the Columbia River. The wisdom those people of the past have contributed to the present by their courage and determination now guides us through the ideals we are striving to manifest today. Their legacy has become our treasure, as we keep striving toward a better existence for all. So, just because we can’t see a person or structure any longer, doesn’t mean it’s presence is not here. The essence of the words and deeds of all beings are always available to us, helping us learn and grow… and maybe that even includes the “wild man of the woods”!

"Bigfoot sculpture at Discovery Park in North Bonneville, WA." ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

                                                             by Carol E Fairbanks, W.W.W.    © 2014

Maintaining a Peaceful Center

"Beautiful Paulina Lake at Newberry Volcanic Monument in eastern Oregon." ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

Cracking open my fortune cookie, after completing a delicious meal at a Chinese restaurant a few years ago, I pulled out a message that said, “Change is the only constant.” Indeed, the very law of life itself is totally one of continual change - sometimes great violent change. Given the fact that nothing in nature stays the same and that sometimes those natural transitions involve a very dramatic process, throughout those changes, the Earth always seeks to maintain a state of balance. Mountains may crumble, volcanoes may explode and rivers may reek havoc with devastating floods. But, in the midst of that turmoil of change, both to the Earth and her inhabitants, there is a healing that happens, often bringing about the formation of something new and positive. New layers of fertile soil from an eruption can encourage an abundance of plants, places violently created with incredible beauty can offer a habitat for a new species, and even pristine, blue lakes can be dramatically born as a result of those sweeping changes. 

"At the trailhead of Paulina Lakeshore Loop in the Newberry Caldera."  ~ photo by Lee G. Young  © 2014

As I hiked the Lakeshore Trail around Paulina Lake within the caldera of the immense Newberry Volcano, I could see evidence of the many sweeping alterations that had occurred in the geologic history of this area in eastern Oregon. The Newberry Volcano,which is about 20 miles in diameter, has one of the largest collections of cinder cones, volcanic domes, lava flows and fissures in the world. The Newberry Caldera, where I hiked, probably existed as long as 500,000 years ago, when the cone of the volcano is thought to have first collapsed after an eruption. Geologists have found evidence for a total of six eruptive episodes, one lasting 200 years, during the last 12,000 years. Those episodes have slowly crafted unique landforms and separated the original lake, Paulina, into the two lakes, as seen in the caldera today. 

"On the ridge between the lakes, a lovely view of Paulina Lake can be seen."  ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

About 7300 years ago, volcano eruptions violently split the caldera, as ash fell forming a ridge between Paulina and Lost Lakes.  Today, 6700 year old basalt and obsidian flows loom between the caldera lakes, and the Central Pumice Cone, which now rises about 700 feet higher than the flows, further separates those lakes, As I passed by that area looking at the hillside of pumice and scoria, I imagined a scene from the distant past where a pyroclastic flow slowly eased its way down to the lake, burning everything in its path. 

"A hillside of volcanic rock - pumice and scoria."  ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

And today, beneath the land in the caldera, that is covered by lush, green lodgepole pine forests and inhabited by many animals, the Newberry Volcano is still very much alive. During the last 70 years, the mountain has bulged four inches, reminding us of the hot activity that still exists below the surface. William Sullivan, in his book, Atlas of Oregon Wilderness, says, “Geothermal speculators, who drilled a 3000 foot deep well on the volcano in 1981, hit such hot rock that the drill melted.”  Even the state of Oregon is changing while being stretched diagonally, as major fault lines emerge from the North American continent’s shearing collision with the plate of the Pacific seafloor. 
In the midst of volcano walls collapsing, molten lava altering the caldera, and hot ash burying the land with a powdery dust, an area of azure-colored calm was created - beautiful Paulina Lake. And then, as if one scenic lake was not enough, violent explosions changed the interior of the caldera to create a second lake - Lost Lake. As I stopped on my hike to gaze at the placid, serene Paulina Lake of today, it required effort to imagine those periods of incredible unrest and relentless geologic change. I looked  across the peaceful, glass-like water and saw worn down walls of this low-lying shield volcano, and they almost appeared to be protecting the lake from the outside world. Here, in this serene place of tumultuous change, Paulina Lake presented itself an oasis,  offering a respite from a busy, hectic, and sometimes challenging, world. 

"Kayaking on serene Paulina Lake."  ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  ©  2014

Life felt simpler here in this caldera, as human needs are more focused on being a part of this natural beauty - whether it be on the Lakeshore Trail around Paulina Lake or in a kayak skimming across the water. It’s a land that felt almost surreal, as I encountered huge glassy obsidian boulders along the trail - big enough for me to sit on!Red hillsides of scoria and pumice contrasted with the verdant, lush pine forest and mosses, as they together continue to tell the “story” of a changing past. Everything here is connected, as it beautifully reveals the saga of the land’s evolutionary journey. 

"Huge obsidian boulders line the trail."  ~ photo by Carol E Fairbnaks  © 2014

And in the center of all these rock deposits, abundant forests and squawking stellar jays, rests a lovely lake with a breathtaking vista. It holds the center of all this continuing transformation in a place of stillness and quiet. As I hiked the entire 8 mile perimeter around the lake, my attention was oriented toward that still water. That mandala of blue stillness became a part of me, as I released the need to be in any other place but there. The lake reflected not only the blue sky and green trees, but also became a metaphor that mirrored my peaceful emotional state.

"Paulina Lake's colorful shoreline."  ~  photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

In reflecting on my hiking experience at Paulina Lake, I have become aware that I am able to imitate those natural processes I saw at the Newberry Volcanic caldera. I can choose to move through the extreme changes of becoming who I am, while maintaining a peaceful, tranquil center. I can keep my eyes on that inner calm place at the core of my being, even in the midst of any “eruptions” that might be happening in my life. I can trust in a benevolent process that does its best to maintain balance and equilibrium during that process of change. Though things may appear to be breaking down in form, I can still affirm in my heart that all of nature conspires to manifest a harmony and balance. 

"Across Paulina Lake, an impressive Paulina Peak can be seen on the horizon."  ~  photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

Knowing that my finite mind can never fully grasp the essence of this mystery of creation, I can let go of intellectual understanding and move rather to an image of being “lake-like”. I can picture myself calm and still while resting in the center of my life’s activity. I can witness the result of great change without being the change itself. I can surrender to the flow of becoming, as I am illumined with reflected light. I can be like the water, the very essence of life, and can endure all the necessary changes, no matter how disruptive. Wisely, I can learn to use that transformation to bring out the “beauty” that is buried within me. And as I experience those birth pains bringing forth newness in my life, I can contemplate this treasure of nature from my hike at Paulina Lake and find solace in that peaceful, calm “lake” within.

                                                                by Carol E. Fairbanks, W.W.W.   © 2014

Preparing for Possibilities

"Pausing on the bridge that goes over Stephen Mather Parkway"  ~ photo by Lee G Young  © 2014

I began the Naches Peak trail in Mount Rainier National Park on a beautiful, sunny summer day.  As I paused on a sturdy 1930’s Civilian Conservation Corps bridge, crossing over Stephen Mather Parkway, I felt confident I had everything I needed for my alpine hike. I had my hiking stick, plenty of water, and a day pack filled with goodies. I even brought some extra socks, just in case I wanted to put them on after taking my shoes off and dunking my feet into Dewey Lake, my destination point. Okay, I didn’t check the “Ten Essentials” list for optimum hiking safety, developed by the Seattle-based mountaineering group, The Mountaineers, but I honestly felt on this gorgeous day, with its azure sky, I had everything I might need. The Naches Peak trail to Dewey Lake follows the well-marked Pacific Crest Trail and was traveled by many hikers that day, so I probably wouldn’t need my compass or an emergency shelter. I had only brought a thin parka in my pack and was pretty sure I wouldn’t be needing any rain gear on this fair weather day. 

"The Naches Peak Loop trail follows part of the Pacific Crest Trail."  ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

I hadn’t checked the weather forecast on the TV that morning and thought, as I looked out the window of my motel room, “It’s going to be a fabulous day for photos!”  Laying on a table near the bed, was a an informative Mount Rainier newspaper I picked up a few days ago at Paradise Lodge. In that copy of  “The Tahoma News”, there was a small, but important, article with a headline, “Knowledge and Safety: Keys to Great Hiking”, and under that was a small section entitled “Pay Attention to the Weather.” It described how at Mount Rainier the weather can change rapidly and that any hikers, who aren’t prepared for changing weather conditions, would increase their risk of being lost or injured. The article emphasized the way to avoid any problems is to always know and plan for Mount Rainier’s changeable weather. 

"Hikers on the Naches Peak Loop trail."  ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

But, unfortunately, I did not read this important information before I began my hike on the Naches Peak Loop trail. I felt confident, following my excellent trail map of this 7 mile trek, that my only problem on this hike might be getting overheated from the sun and not having enough cooler areas of shade on the trail. At the first small lake along the trail, many people were picnicking and having fun enjoying the scenic alpine beauty. No one there looked as if they might be expecting any change in the perfect weather that we were experiencing that day in the park. When a hiker on the trail remarked to me that rain was on its way in the afternoon, his words seemed so improbable that I shook my head in disbelief, as I hurried to get to a cooler place up ahead on the trail. 

"Dewey Lake as seen from Naches Peak."  ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

When I reached the top of Naches Peak, I looked over the tall evergreen trees at my destination at Dewey Lake, far down in the valley below.  I grimaced as I thought of my parka in my pack, and felt that bringing it might have been a wasted effort, as I envisioned myself hiking down and back up the sunny, steep ridge, soaked in perspiration. However, later as I was climbing back up that ridge from Dewey Lake, the sun’s intense heat surprisingly was not the problem it had been on the descent. The beautiful blue sky, that had smiled on all of us earlier, had turned dark and threatening. The top of Mount Rainier, usually seen from the trail, completely disappeared, having been shrouded by swirling, gray clouds. I felt a growing apprehension as those ominous dark clouds rolled in, covering up any memory of that sunny, summer day. Of course, it occurred to me that not bringing all my “10 Essentials”, especially my rain gear, might be an error in my judgement.

"Dark clouds seen on the ascent from Dewey Lake."  ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

Quickly, I wrapped my camera in a plastic bag and tucked it deep inside my day pack and then promptly speeded up my pace on the trail. I hoped to finish before I got too wet, and yes, I was probably going to get rained on, as I still had about 3 miles to go to the trailhead. I already could smell the rain in the air, as I slipped my parka over my head and checked the direction of the path on my map one last time before tucking it into my pocket. The faster I hiked back on the southern half of Naches Peak trail, the darker the sky got. And then it happened - rain - lots of rain! My lightweight parka very soon became drenched and did more to chill me than protect me. Thinking of my dry clothes back in my car, I knew once I finished my hike in this deluge of rain, I would be fine. With that overly confident thought came a sudden showering of hail… hail of significant size! As the force of these pieces of ice pounded down upon me, I was desperate to find some kind of shelter. With the thunder and lightning creating even more drama, my mind raced, searching for a solution to my dilemma. As the relentless pounding of cold ice continued to fall on my head, I dropped to the ground, seeking protection by an embankment next to the trail. The hail lasted for only about ten to fifteen minutes, but it seemed like an eternity, as I shivered, losing all recollection of that hot, sunny day I started my hike with. Just when I felt I could no longer stand another chunk of ice hitting me, the hail slackened up. As I peeked out from under my dripping parka I had put over my head, I saw that the trail had turned white from an accumulation of hail. 

"Mount Rainier surrounded by clouds." ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

Relieved that the falling hail had finally ceased, I almost didn’t mind the gentler rain. If I had brought all those “Ten Essentials”, including my rain poncho, my experience with Mount Rainier’s changeable weather might have been less traumatic. Maybe having anything less than all ten of them is not being prepared for safety on the trail. Being really fortunate that nothing serious happened to me on this hike, I got back to my car, shivering and wet, and gratefully was soon warm in a dry set of clothes before a second deluge of pounding rain hit. In fact, I was not only drier and happier, but also smarter!  When I hike these wilderness trails in the future, I am doing it with all “ten essentials” and a knowledge of the current weather forecast. Not being prepared for the trek can easily change a fun outing, even at a National Park, into an unhappy experience. William Sullivan, an Oregon author, says in his hiking guidebooks, “Even on the tamest hike, a surprise storm or a wrong turn can suddenly make the gear you carry very important.” He warns that the number one killer in the woods is hypothermia - being wet and cold too long. 

"Watching the approaching storm." ~  photo by Lee G Young  © 2014

So, this time I received a more gentle lesson in the importance of being prepared for a range of possibilities on a hike. Ron C. Judd, a Washington journalist and author, who writes “Trail Mix” for the Seattle Times, advises, “On most any alpine hike in the fall (and evidently in late summer!) you can get snowed upon, rained upon, sleeted upon, blown around, and finally sunburned - all in the space of a day!”  Clearly, in the Cascades regions, and maybe in  all wilderness areas, it is a good idea to always carry the “Ten Essentials”, including waterproof gear, no matter how nice the weather looks when departing. So, thank you, Naches Peak Loop trail, for this important treasure of wisdom you’ve given me that will better ensure a greater and much safer hiking experience on all my future wilderness treks. Now, my new outdoor adventure motto is, “Don’t leave home without them” ….all ten of them!

~ from The Tahoma News, publication of Mount Rainier National Park

                                                                by Carol E Fairbanks, W.W.W.

An Inspiration for Our Good

"Receiving guidance from a Ranger." photo by Carol E Fairbanks © 2014

As I was hiking the scenic trail past the awe-inspiring Mount Rainier, I heard a park ranger yell at some sign-ignoring teenagers, “You need to get back on the trail, please!”  We had all passed many trail signs that alerted hikers of the danger to fragile wildflowers, when veering off the designated path. On this day of perfect weather, many people, including lots of young kids, were drawn to experience the magnificent natural beauty of Mount Rainier National Park. As I watched those young girls reluctantly get back on the trail, I realized just how necessary those park rangers are in educating all of us to better ways of experiencing this  wilderness that draws people of all ages. But in watching many young adventurers, who were motivated by their youthful vigor, ignore those park signs on their alpine climb, I was reminded again how we all have to learn to better relate to nature so as not to harm either it or ourselves. As I saw the park rangers enthusiastically passing out literature, that illustrated the wonderful diversity of wildflowers growing naturally in this mountain terrain, I felt very grateful for the vital role that they play in preserving wilderness areas. 

"Sourdough Gap up on the ridge is seen from Sheep Lake."  photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

Growing up in our modern cities, surrounded by concrete and manmade structures, we don’t often have ample opportunity to develop a positive value of nature. With the diversion of many electronics, we are often alienated from the natural world, of which we are an integral part. But this is not just a recent phenomenon of our industrialized culture, that largely views nature as a resource to be exploited. In the summer of 1914, during a visit to Yosemite National Park in California, a vacationing businessman named Stephen Mather, expressed dismay at what he saw as he hiked there. The trails were sadly neglected and in poor condition. Cattle were seen grazing where park rules prohibited it. Stately sequoias, that Mather felt should be protected, were planned to be logged by speculators who had managed to file private claims, while misusing provisions of the Federal Swamp Land Act. 

Mather knew personally of the healing and calming effects of being in these wilderness areas. Years earlier, in 1904, he had discovered in a Sierra Club outing at Mount Rainier that hiking in the great outdoors seemed to calm his nervous system and renew his depleted energy. Mather was further inspired by listening to the talks of John Muir, as he described the threats to the wilderness from commercial interests and an uncaring government. So when Mather witnessed first hand the deterioration of Yosemite in 1914, after experiencing so much good in his healing time with nature, he was motivated to use his genius of promotion and publicity to save these wild lands. Mather, retired from his very successful business, went to Washington, D.C. as an assistant to the Secretary of the Interior, Franklin K Lane,  and there lobbied for the establishment of a bureau to better manage the national parks.

"Plaque at Tipsoo Lake trailhead." photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

Mather went on to become the National Park Service’s first director, when it was established in 1916, and as the bronze plaque says at Tipsoo Lake trailhead where I began my walk, “He laid the foundation of the National Park Service, defending and establishing the policies under which its areas shall be developed and conserved unimpaired for future generations.” Anticpating that those “future generations” would need to be educated in appreciating the value of wilderness areas, Mather and his assistant, Horace Albright, handpicked competent and educated park superintendents for each National Park, and hired a cadre of equally professional park rangers who would run the parks. Albright later said, “Mather had a special vision of what the rangers should be. He felt they must bring to the Service not only knowledge and skill, but an ability to relate to the public and a considerable measure of dedication. Mather’s grasp of a grassroots support system for the parks encouraged the rise of “nature study” and a modern interpretation of the necessity of wild places for our health and well being. It was because of Stephen Mather that I saw those park rangers on my hike at Mount Rainier National Park, guiding and educating those young people, while enthusiastically explaining the reasons for staying on the trail. And today, more than 20,000 National Park Service employees care for America’s 401 parks and work with communities across the nation to help preserve local history, natural lands and recreational opportunities. 

"Mather Memorial Highway winds its way through Chinook Pass."  photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

Mather knew the value of attracting people to the parks, who would, he felt, become avid supporters of those parks and then would communicate their support to their elected officials. And it worked. With his preservation ethic, he articulated a policy that allowed for the provision of creative comfort and services connected with park development.  And to this day, this policy has encouraged a curious and supportive public of millions, like me and the teenagers, to visit the National Parks. On my hike up to Sourdough Gap, high on a ridge trail through the Chinook Pass, I saw in the distance a memorial to his contribution - the Stephen Mather Parkway.  From the summit I could see this impressive highway, winding its way through the hills of Chinook Pass and allowing many visitors greater access to this wilderness area.

"Sheep Lake and Mather Highway can be seen from the summit at Sourdough Gap." photo by Carol E Fairbanks © 2014

It is largely because of Stephen Mather, unbounded in his dedication and work in establishing the National Parks, that those natural areas have remained “unimpaired” for many generations, so that even today, we might continue to enjoy them. Because of his generosity and tireless efforts, we, like Mather, can come to these wild places and discover the “heart” of who we really are. We can finally see our place in the natural scheme of things and know that we truly belong to the Earth as a vital part of creation. With this awareness of our connection, we can better learn to live in harmony with one another.... including the teenagers.  As the bronze plaque at the trailhead of Tipsoo Lake at Mount Rainier, as well at many other National Parks, says, “There will never come an end to the good he has done.” And it is within that good that each one of us, young and old, can find our treasure.

"Finding a heart-shaped rock on the trail."  photo by Lee G Young  © 2014

                                                                     by Carol E Fairbanks, W.W.W.

Preserving Paradise

"Mt. Rainier National Park at Paradise"  ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

As I stood at Jackson’s Visitors Center, near the Skyline trailhead in Mount Rainier National Park, I was reading a brochure that described the formation of our country’s “best idea” - America’s National Parks. Almost 100 years ago, on August 25, 1916, President Woodrow Wilson signed an act of Congress that created the formation of the National Park Service, whose purpose was to “conserve the scenery and the natural and historic objects and wildlife therein, and to provide for the enjoyment of the same in such manner and by such means as will leave them unimpaired for the enjoyment of future generations.” 
But, it has taken much more than an act of Congress, signed by the president, to make sure that those pristine natural areas in our country have stayed “unimpaired.”  As I began hiking the Skyline Trail, I read a quote carved in the steps by a well known conservationist, John Muir, and was reminded of the many men and women, who have dedicated their time and talents to preserve this and many other National Parks. As I looked up the trail, winding its way past Mount Rainier, I felt unbounded gratitude for the work of those passionate, dedicated people, especially John Muir, whose words and other efforts of persuasion have supported, and most likely, saved those paradise-like natural areas. 

"Beginning the Skyline Trail."  ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

When I read Muir’s words, describing Mount Rainier as “the most extravagantly beautiful of all alpine gardens”, I knew this alpine garden might not be as “beautiful” for my hike here today, if it were not for Muir’s passionate persistence. He knew that such persistent effort to preserve our beautiful nature was necessary in an ongoing way so that they might stay “unimpaired” by people. In a speech at a Sierra Club meeting in 1895, Muir stated “The battle we have fought, and are still fighting for the forests is a part of the eternal conflict between right and wrong, and we cannot expect to see the end of it….. so we must count on watching and striving for these trees, and should always be glad to find anything so surely good and noble to strive for.” 

"Hiking up the Skyline Trail."  photo by Lee G Young  © 2014

I am one of those “tired, nerve-shaken, and over-civilized people”, that Muir wrote about at the beginning of the twentieth century and that still exist today…maybe even more so! I, too, like John Muir, have found out, especially on this beautiful Skyline Trail, that “going to the mountains is going home.” As I pass by the stately presence of this mountain, I believe, as Muir did, that “mountain parks and reservations are useful, not only as fountains of timber and irrigating rivers, but as fountains of life.” It is here on the Skyline Trail that I am renewed by this scenic wonder, knowing, as Muir wrote, that “wildness is a necessity… that by going out (on this Skyline Trail) I found was really going in.” 

In 1888, when Muir was weary from the responsibilities of running a family farm and very much missing his mountain wanderings, he joined nine other men for a climb up to the summit of Mount Rainier. That trip played an important role in reinvigorating Muir and convincing him to rededicate his life to the preservation of nature as National Parks. At that time, national forests, called forest reserves, were being created throughout the American West, under the utilitarian “conservation-through-use” view of Secretary of the Interior, Gifford Pinchot. Muir, however, believed that nature would be better preserved under the more protected status of National Parks. But since public sentiment was more in favor of creating national forests rather than national parks, Muir and his supporters were only able, through their efforts, to protect one national forest as a National Park. In 1893, when the Pacific Forest Reserve was created, Muir quickly persuaded the Sierra Club to support a movement to protect Rainier as a National Park. Groups, such as the National Geographic Society and other scientific associations soon joined the movement, in support of forming a National Park at Rainier. Also offering support were commercial leaders in Tacoma and Seattle, as well as, the Northern Pacific Railway.Those collective efforts lasted for over five years and involved six different attempts to push a bill for Rainier, as the fifth National Park, through Congress. Congress eventually agreed, but only after being assured that the new park was not suitable for either farming or mining and that no federal appropriations would be needed for its management.

"Indian paintbrush & broadleaf lupine add their vibrant color to the mountain landscape."  ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks © 2014 

Muir, who worked tirelessly to open the hearts of everyone to the importance of preserving this great nature, asserted in his writings that “one touch of nature makes all the world kin.” And in this place of unifying natural beauty. I, too, felt an intimate connection with all life. In the verdant meadows of Rainier where I hiked, brightly colored wildflowers brought a vitality to this alpine landscape, that contrasted with the snow and ice of an enduring “winter” on the mountain. On the way up to Skyline Trail’s summit at Panorama Point, I passed by a sign pointing up a very steep trail to the Muir Base Camp, where Muir had camped on his trek up the mountain. Not really a day hike, this alpine ascent is about as close as you can get to Mount Rainier’s summit without roping up and following a guide. Not being prepared for that kind of challenge, I moved on past the Muir Base Camp sign to my destination at Panorama Point. And at the summit of the Skyline Trail, I was quite pleased with my less challenging, but still magnificent, view of Mount Rainer’s peak from a much safer distance.

"On the High Skyline Trail."  ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

Climbing further up the moon-like, rocky path on the High Skyline Trail brought me even closer to the immense majesty of Mount Rainier. Ascending that mountain trail gave me an opportunity to view things from a much higher perspective… to witness the way everything fits together in a harmonious pattern. That vision of harmony, seen from high up on the Skyline Trail, is just what we need to begin to see ourselves in a better relationship with our environment. Muir wrote about this a century ago in saying, “Man must be made conscious of his origin as a child of Nature. Brought into right relationship with the wilderness, he could see that he was not a separate entity, endowed with a divine right to subdue his fellow creatures and destroy the common heritage, but as an integral part of a harmonious whole.”

"My feet enjoying Paradise Creek."  ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks  © 2014

And I was feeling, like Muir suggested, as much a part of this landscape, as Paradise Creek that flowed down the hillside amidst  the vibrant color of wildflowers. I stopped at the creek to rest and decided to take off my hiking boots and place my hot, tired feet in the very cold mountain stream.  As the clear water flowed over my feet, I felt my cares and concerns, that I brought with me from my “over-civilized” and, sometimes, hectic life, wash away. Sitting on a rock by the creek, surrounded by all that natural beauty, I, indeed, felt more loved and loving. Muir suggested long ago, “Keep close to Nature’s heart… and break clear away once in a while… climb a mountain…. wash your spirit clean.”  So, it was not only my feet that were clean, but also my spirit!

"Relaxing at Paradise Creek." ~ photo by Lee G. Young  © 2014

From Muir’s words carved in the steps at the trail’s beginning to the sign pointing to the Muir Base Camp leading to the mountain’s summit… and including my hike in the magnificent natural beauty at Mount Rainier, I am reminded of John Muir and his efforts to preserve this valuable natural treasure at Mount Rainier National Park.  On this ninety eighth anniversary of the creation of National Parks, it seems very appropriate that I am remembering and writing about John Muir. It was because of his wanderings in the woods and his love of Nature, like Rainier, that our National Parks exist today.  So, I say “thank you” to him and to all the countless other workers, who have dedicated themselves with their time and talent, to better preserve our areas of paradise. I think of Muir’s words that exclaimed, “Of all the fire-mountains, which, like beacons, once blazed along the Pacific Coast, Mount Rainier is the noblest in form”, and I am reassured that with passionate, dedicated people like him and others, these precious gifts of nature will always be a blessing to both our land and to our hearts.

                                                                      by Carol E. Fairbanks, W.W.W.