The Wild Woman Walker

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Sauntering With John Muir

Sometimes I wonder why I love walking in the woods so much…why, like the naturalist, John Muir, once I start following a wooded path, I could keep on going indefinitely. In his journal, the founder of the Sierra Club, Muir wrote, “I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.” I, too, have that inner experience when I follow a natural trail, especially past majestic, stately trees and vibrant creeks, flowing into cascading waterfalls. On my 16th hike of this blog, in Oneonta Gorge, that inner inspiration was especially insightful. The gorge was formed by a series of dramatic events of nature that produced a rare geologic formation not seen anywhere else in North America. The US Forest Service has designated this area of the Columbia River Gorge, with its beautiful waterfalls and unique aquatic and woodland plants, as a special “botanical area.”

Indeed, hiking the Horsetail Falls Loop through the Oneonta Gorge, and trekking up to the bridge just beyond Triple Falls seemed like a “botanical paradise” to me. Loving nature the way I do, the trek through these woods almost felt “magical”. John Muir was quoted in an article in the Atlantic Monthly in 1898, “God never made an ugly landscape. All that the sun shines on is beautiful, so long as it is wild.” And the further up the trail I went, as it meandered high above the historic Columbia Highway, where I began my hike, the “wilder” it got. The energy of a busy, demanding world was left behind, as I climbed up the # 400 Trail from Ainsworth Campground to Horsetail Falls.

Stopping to photograph interesting trees and plants along the way, I found myself slowing down and thinking, that if I didn’t speed up, I might not complete my goal of getting to Triple Falls. While my overachieving ego was struggling with a wiser part of myself, I recalled another quote by John Muir, where he explained why he didn’t care for the word “hike”. The author, Albert Palmer, remembered in his writing how Muir, with his blue eyes flashing and in his Scotch accent, said “ I don’t like either the word or the thing. People ought to saunter in the mountains - not hike! So do you know the origin of the word “saunter”? It’s a beautiful word. Away back in the Middle Ages people used to go on pilgrimages to the Holy Land, and when people in the village, through which they passed, asked where they were going, they would reply, ‘A la sainte terre’, (To the Holly Land). And so they became known as sainte-terre-ers or saunterers. Now these mountains are our Holy Land, and we ought to saunter through them reverently, not ‘hike’ through them.”

As I was thinking of his words, while enjoying this beautiful “botanical paradise”, I decided to “saunter” rather than “hike”. My perception of my personal power shifted abruptly, when I made that decision not to rush through this pristine wildness, and I found myself more fully present for a connection with this grand piece of nature. As I released my need to accomplish that perceived goal of my insatiable ego, I began to notice the exquisite beauty of the gorge even more. I saw the varied detailed shapes of the trees and leaves, marveled at the spectacular waterfalls and touched the cool rocks in the creek.

I even sat down for a while and “visited” with the sparkling water, as it flowed over large boulders, and watched the waterfalls, noticing that each one did indeed resemble a horse’s tail. I experienced myself as an integral part of this natural beauty, just as Muir had advised when he said, “Keep close to Nature’s heart… and break clear away, once in a while, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean.”

And even with the dried perspiration on my body from my climb up and down the gorge trails and my weariness after completing a nine mile hike, oh.. excuse me, I mean “saunter”, I did feel lighter, happier and maybe even, “spiritually cleaner.” Muir had promised that “Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees.” He said, “the winds will blow their own freshness into you and storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves.”

"The trail overlooks the scenic Columbia River Gorge, that marks a border between Oregon and Washington. This view looks at Washington across the river from the Oregon side. photo by Carol E Fairbanks © 2014

As I walked to my car at the trail’s end, I experienced that peace that Muir promised, and felt immensely grateful for both my time in the woods at Oneonta Gorge and the inspiring legacy and words of John Muir. He personifies for me a love and connection to nature that sustains and nurtures me, as well as countless others. It is partly because of his walks in the woods that the woods are still here. And it’s because of the treasure of his words that I am fully here …… “sauntering” in the woods.

by Carol E Fairbanks, W.W.W.

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

A Trek With Eagle Energy

If you want to experience things from a new perspective, any eagle knows it’s best to ascend to higher ground. If you need clarity for making choices, all eagles know that vision is enhanced by the overall pattern they can see from that upper vantage point. So if you believe you are more than you appear to be, take heart and gather “eagle” courage, as you trek up beyond the horizon of what is presently visible in your life. Yes, put on your hiking boots and grab your walking stick and head for the creek…. Eagle Creek, that is, for the 15th hike of this blog.

While I didn’t see an eagle while on my 16 mile hike on the Eagle Creek Trail in the Columbia River Gorge area, I did observe that this path definitely personifies the attributes of that majestic raptor. Described as one of Oregon’s most spectacular trails, its gradual 1200 foot ascent takes you up through a rugged canyon past half a dozen dazzling waterfalls, just like the slow flight upward of a soaring eagle. As you steadily follow this trail to higher elevations, you soon experience yourself hovering high above the creek and notice that your “vision” has become expansive, as you look toward the distant horizon. And in remembering safe practices for this journey, you need to be sure to keep an “eagle eye” on the rocky cliffside paths to maintain stability, always making sure you use the metal wire handrails imbedded in the cliffs.

The Eagle Creek Trail is not a new trail that has been recently built for outdoor enthusiasts. It was actually built in the 1910’s to accompany the opening of the historic Columbia River Highway. It’s considered by many to be an engineering marvel, as is the physical body of the eagle. To maintain an easy grade upward on this trail through the rocky, rugged canyon, the builders had to blast ledges out of sheer cliffs. The meandering flow of Eagle Creek also required the construction of numerous foot bridges through the colossal gorge. And those daring builders even chipped a tunnel through solid rock behind the magnificent 120 foot Tunnel Falls to add to the thrill of this exciting hike.

Just as the behavior of the eagle demonstrates the wisdom of waiting patiently upon a solid foundation before trying to soar, so the Eagle Creek Trail gives hikers an opportunity to rely on their vision, while staying grounded on the trail as it traverses this challenging terrain. Those handrails along the rock walls are an important reminder to be fully aware, as you carefully move along those jagged rocks and look down into the canyon at the creek far below.

This trail requires a willingness of each hiker to follow his vision carefully, in the midst of those challenges that present themselves. However, the eagle, who skillfully snatches opportunities as they arise, teaches us that having keen vision is only part of the creative process. The eagle, with his incredible self discipline, never wastes valuable energy, as he uses his remarkable vision to guide his skillful actions. You also can become empowered, as you imitate those eagle behaviors on this trail through strengthening your self discipline and sharpening your focus. This trail requires you to continually make choices, based on what you see, and to seize every opportunity in order to ensure a safe passage on your hike.

To complete a long trek on the Eagle Creek Trail demands considerable energy and endurance, but it also gives back to you by instilling a greater sense of personal power within. You know yourself better after hiking such a challenging trail. You believe in your abilities and trust those valuable resources that reside at your center. You have made the 1200 foot ascent up toward the “sky,” yet have stayed grounded and connected to the Earth. Like the eagle, you are now a symbol of great power - a power not used to dominate - but rather a creative power of manifesting the goodness of who you really are. A new dimension of your life unfolds, as the “eagle” in you “takes flight.” And as you “soar” above your fears and misconceptions, you become the bearer of a new, positive creative force in the world. In becoming more of your true self on this trail, you, my friend, are finding the real “treasure” of Eagle Creek Trail.

Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Up From the Ashes

"The barren landscape of Mount St. Helens National Monument." ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks, 2010

Like the mythological phoenix, that rises up from its own ashes to be reborn and live once again, the presence of life at Mount St. Helens Monument continues to grow and flourish after the devastating eruption in 1980. Out of the ashes of its barren, moonscape-like destruction, diverse plants and animals have reclaimed this land as their home. The movie I saw, after hiking the Boundary Trail up to Johnstons Ridge Observatory, for my 14th hike of this blog, portrayed that dramatic natural transformation of the last thirty four years, both in landform and plant and animal life.

The movie emphasized ways in which nature has found to repair and renew, after those wide sweeping changes of the greatest landslide yet in recorded history. It cited many examples where nature has “found opportunity in the cycle of destruction and renewal”, which is naturally inherent in all life processes.

"Indian paintbrush and lupine wildflowers grown abundantly around Coldwater Lake at Mount St Helens." ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks, 2014

The lupine wildflower was the first hardy plant to grow in the midst of that blown down forest in the blast zone. It was able to take root and blossom in the volcanic dust that covered the land after the complete destruction of this once verdant woodland. And in growing there, the lupine replenished the altered soil with nutrients, making it possible for other varieties of plants to then grow.

"An eagle perches on a hummock in the middle of Coldwater Lake." ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks, 2014

Fish were once again discovered in the newly formed lakes, that were created dramatically by the blast. On another hike at Coldwater Lake, I spotted an eagle perched on a small island hummock in the lake, who was certainly evidence that there were ample fish to be caught there. Green moss and a variety of trees and grasses now cover what was once the lunar landscape of Mount St Helen’s violent destruction. A hydrologist and coordinator for the USGS Cascades Volcano Observatory says, “Mount St. Helens has been a master teacher for an entirely new generation of scientists.” This much-studied mountain, in its cycle of destruction and renewal, has become a world class outdoor laboratory for the study of volcanoes, ecosystems, and natural recovery. A monument scientist at Mount St. Helens, Peter Frenzen, asserts that “it’s a terrific opportunity for people to understand the forces of the earth.”

"A green landscape is seen from the Boundary Trail with the Toutle River in the distance." ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks, 2014

In hiking the Coldwater Lake, Boundary and Hummocks Trails, I have been given an opportunity to witness this amazing process of natural regeneration first hand. During my first visit to Mt. St. Helens in 1995, when the road only went as far as the Coldwater Visitors Center and there was no Johnstons Ridge Observatory, I saw only a gray, barren landscape with no trees, except for the stumps and remains that had been blown down in the blast. On my hikes in 2007 and 2010, trees were beginning to grow and areas of green appeared, dotting some of the hillsides. Last month, in June of 2014, thirty four years after the blast, I hiked among lush ferns and tall trees that actually provided some shade! I delighted in photographing abundant wildflowers, like the Indian Paintbrush, that carpeted the area with vibrant color.

"Colorful wildflowers carpet the ridge as I hike on the Boundary Trail near Johnstons Ridge Observatory." ~ photo by Lee G Young, 2014

The “phoenix” of Mount St. Helen has risen up from the ashes of its destruction, after reshaping the landscape with devastation. Now, life is flourishing there, revealing a new vision of diversity, while transforming the area from gray to green. Out of that sweeping loss has come diverse life and incredible beauty. Just as Mount St. Helens has demonstrated the possibilities of finding new opportunity in the midst of such widespread loss, so I feel challenged by those cycles in my life to do the same. Since we are all part of the earth, like Mt. St. Helen, those natural laws that foster the cycles of destruction and renewal govern and guide us all. Out of loss, we, too, are challenged to find opportunity. And in the midst of devastation, we are asked to manifest new growth. As we feel our anguish during those stressful cycles of life, we can look to the inspiring examples of renewal at Mt St. Helens and see that recovery is not only possible, but that those courageous efforts of regeneration are indeed supported by nature, itself.

"Hiking on the Coldwater Lake Trail." ~ photo by Lee G Young, 2014

Surrounded by the beautiful trees and wildflowers on the trail, where there was once a landscape devoid of life, I found comfort in hiking this new vibrant habitat. Lush Sitka and red alder forests have spread from 120 new aquatic lakes, ponds and wetlands, formed by the blast, and, today, the Toutle River Valley is one of the few places in the Northwest where large tracts of alder forests can be found. This new habitat has encouraged a rapid resurgence of a wide array of amphibians, birds, insects, mammals and plants. How reassuring it is to experience an inspiring demonstration of that treasure of regeneration and renewal, seeing that which is part of everything, is indeed part of me… and you!

"Surrounded by Indian paintbrush and lupine, I hiked on the Boundary Trail on my way up to Johnstons Ridge." ~ photo by Lee G Young, 2014

Thursday, June 26, 2014

Stepping Beyond Stereotypes

"The Twin Tunnels Trail follows the Old Columbia Highway through the Columbia River Gorge in Oregon." photo by Carol E Fairbanks

It was a study of contrasts while experiencing the diversity of the scenic wonders alongside the Columbia River, as it meandered through steep basalt cliffs that separate the states of Oregon and Washington. On this sunny day, for my 13th hike of this blog, I walked the Twin Tunnels Trail in the Columbia River Gorge, that runs along the Old Columbia Highway, between the towns of Hood River and Mosier in Oregon. I passed through areas of both full sun, that heated up the asphalt trail surface, and the cooler sections that were shaded generously by the tall Ponderosa Pine trees. Within a mile or two of walking, I watched those abundant, moist forests, common in western Oregon, transition into landscapes of arid brown hillsides, dotted with low lying shrubs. The cooler, moist air, that had moved over the Cascade Mountains and lost its moisture, now parched my throat forcing me to reach for my water bottle more often than usual. It was my second walk of the day, and I was already regretting my decision to do this trail east of the Cascades so late in the afternoon. And my body readily agreed with my mind, as it dampened my shirt profusely with perspiration.

"Me hiking the Twin Tunnels Trail" ~ photo by Lee G Young

While climbing a gradual grade upward and admiring the expansive view of the river below, I was suddenly surrounded by a crowd of young boys of various shapes and sizes. Within that diverse group was a common attitude of apparently not wanting to do this hike. They were accompanied by several uniformed park rangers and counselors or, perhaps, teachers, who were trying to drum up some enthusiasm for this activity within the group. As I was grimacing inside about my bad timing, one overweight young man turned to me and apologized for his use of swear words. I smiled and said that I hadn’t heard anything and that I was not even paying any attention to him. Wanting some distance between us, I slowed up at a viewpoint to take some photos, thinking that letting the boys get ahead of me was the only way I might actually enjoy this hike.

I started hiking again when I saw that they disappeared around a bend in the trail, but my dynamic walking pace soon overtook their slower stride, that resisted any physical activity. Once again, I found myself on the trail surrounded by those apathetic young boys. In teaching in public school, I had encountered this resistant attitude in young people, and after retiring, I had done my best to exclude it from my experience. And here I was on a fabulous Gorge hike, surrounded by the very energy I vowed to avoid for the rest of my life! As I lapsed into a resignation that this hike was not going to be one of my best, one of the young boys, who had independently run ahead with some others, approached me as I got nearer to a prominent viewpoint. I couldn’t imagine anything “good” coming of this impending encounter and braced myself for a possible derogatory comment.

"A stately eagle perches in a tree as he surveys the Columbia River." ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks

To my surprise, he asked my about my camera, and said, “I spotted an eagle on a tree down below by the river, and wondered if you would want to take a photograph of it.” He thought if my camera could zoom in closer, it might make a “very cool” picture. My disappointment of this trek instantly turned into elation, as I quickly followed him to the overlook wall. Looking down, indeed, I saw one magnificent eagle, sitting patiently in a tree while surveying the water for his “dinner”. The boys, who were not formerly impressed with anything, crowded around me as I snapped some photos of this symbol of power and freedom. When they asked to view my eagle photos on my camera screen, I watched them and saw a joy and enthusiasm I had not observed in them before. Those boys, who were not impressed by anything on this hike, were now excited and babbling about this eagle sighting! I talked with them about the process of loading my eagle photos onto my computer and cropping to make them even more close up. Where before, our diversity had created a separation, now, we were like “good friends” talking about this eagle sighting. It was fun, once again, feeling like an enthusiastic teacher, who was surrounded by eager students.

"Looking through the tunnels on the Twin Tunnels Trail in the Columbia River Gorge." ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks

Later, I continued on upward from the eagle viewpoint through the tunnels, without the company of those young boys. As I left the observation point, I turned to watch the boys be guided back toward the trailhead and noticed a joyful enthusiasm, as they continued to talk about their fortunate sighting. Because they had pointed out the eagle’s presence, they were as much a part of the picture taking as I was. Before, seeing the eagle from the trail, the boys and I were barely tolerating one another, and afterwards, the eagle’s stately presence had moved us beyond our rigid stereotyping to a place of common ground. An experience of nature will do that, especially one like the eagle that personifies the primal life force inherent in all of us.

"My turnaround place at the observation point overlooking the Columbia River." ~ photo by Carol E Fairbanks

Eagles are symbols of great power, a power that goes beyond even their size. When the boys and I experienced that magnificent eagle, we were both inspired to take on the responsibility of becoming so much more than we appeared to be. They would feel safe in expressing joy and enthusiasm and, perhaps, become more open to their inner gifts and talents, that waited to be expressed in the future. And I would let loose of quickly judging others before I truly get to know them. We both could “fly higher” than our fears to a greater understanding of one another. So this was a trail that offered all of us much more than a beautiful view. It taught a valuable lesson of how to better relate to one another. That’s the best treasure you can get from the trail… one that builds unity, acceptance and harmony.

by Carol E Fairbanks, W.W.W.

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

On the Amanda Trail by the Pacific Ocean, I am seeing how the town of Yachats is transforming a past memory into a hope for a better future.

Inviting all to see my latest post of my hike on the Amanda Trail up to the observation point of Cape Perpetua. Enjoy!

A Foundation for Our Future

www.nwboomerandseniornews.com

Official site of the Northwest Boomer and Senior News. Monthly publication with Lane, Linn-Benton, Portland Metro and Marion-Polk editions

Saturday, June 14, 2014

"Me at a bluebird crossing at Champoeg Heritage State Park in Oregon"

Come "walk" with me at Champoeg Heritage State Park in Oregon and catch a glimpse of the past and the lessons of a great river - the Willamette. Read all about it in my latest post of my blog, "Treasures from the Trail".

Reconciling With a River

www.nwboomerandseniornews.com

Official site of the Northwest Boomer and Senior News. Monthly publication with Lane, Linn-Benton, Portland Metro and Marion-Polk editions

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

In the Footsteps of the Kalapuya

... a climb up Marys Peak in Oregon ~

If you want to solve a challenge in your life, I’ve read that it cannot be easily done on the level of the problem. What is needed is a higher perspective of things - a place where the overall picture can be seen without being bogged down by a lot of competing details. Even the hawk flies high above the landscape when searching for food. This raptor instinctively knows it can see much more from that higher vantage point than it can on ground level. Clearly the hawk’s success depends on seeing the bigger picture.

"At the Woods Creek Trail Head, as I began my hike up to the summit of Marys Peak." photo by Lee G. Young

Like the hawk, when I am in the midst of searching for greater “nourishment” in my life and needing a broader perspective of the issues that are currently challenging me, heading for higher ground is just what I need. I intuitively know that just climbing to the top of a mountain to see a broader view of the landscape helps to clear my confusion about my options and somehow empowers me with a confidence to make better choices in striving to fulfill my dreams.We people have always known this truth somehow - especially native indigenous people who have lived more closely in harmony with the natural world than we have in our manmade controlled environments. Inspired by this universal inner knowing, I headed for a mountain that was accessible to me, both in travel distance and in climbing difficulty, for my 10th hike of this blog - Marys Peak near Corvallis, Oregon.After about an hour’s drive from my home in Eugene, I arrived at the trail head on the north side of Marys Peak on Woods Creek Road. Hiking up the North Ridge Trail, I climbed up challenging switchbacks through a dense forest to the observation point, gaining an impressive 2000 feet in about 4 miles. That’s enough to bring one into the present moment and narrow one’s focus to the essentials - at least, it was for me! As I arrived at the clearing that gave me an expansive view of the Willamette Valley to the northwest, it was not so clear that I could see the Pacific Ocean, as the guide books suggested, but on this sunny and hazy day, I could still see miles of beautiful hills on the distant horizon.

"Nearing the summit of Marys Peak" - photo by Lee G Young

My feelings of accomplishment, however, quickly wavered, after being elated by the inspiring vista, as I turned to face the hill that I still needed to hike to get to the summit. I thought of what I had read in the guide books, about the Kalapuya Indians who long ago made their way up to the top of Marys Peak summit in quest of a greater vision for their life. Having read that the mountain’s Kalapuya name was “Chateemanwi”, which means “place of spiritual power”, it seemed like an appropriate place for me to hike, given my own personal search that I was experiencing. So one step at a time, I made my way upward 300 feet more on that gravel path that spiraled to my destination on Marys Peak.

"Beautiful alpine rock garden at the summit." photo by Carol E Fairbanks

As my attention shifted from my weary feet to the magnificent view, I was greeted by a lovely array of colorful alpine wildflowers and a wrap-around view that brought to my mind the words of a favorite song, “The hills are alive with the sound of music.” I am not sure about that “spiritual power” that the Kalapuya claimed they experienced here, but it did feel like a bit of “heaven on earth” at the summit. At 4097 feet, the highest point in Oregon’s Coast Range, of which Marys Peak is part, I could see forests and cities and farms for miles and miles. Toward the east, to the northeast, and the southeast, it seemed as if I could see everywhere at once. With this experience of witnessing the incredible beauty at Marys Peak summit, it was no surprise, to read that the upper 924 acres above 3000 feet have been designated as a Scenic-Botanical-Special-Interest-Area (SBSIA) by the National Forest Service. It was certainly obvious to me, after hiking through the old growth Douglas Fir forest, and, at higher elevations, past the incredible stands of Old Noble Fir, and finally arriving at these stunning wildflowers at the summit, why this ecosystem needs protection - especially after viewing the patchwork of industrial forest lands below.

"At 4097 feet at Marys Peak summit." photo by Carol E Fairbanks

Rather than seeing myself as separate from the natural world, as I do most of the time in my manmade, controlled world, I felt part of it all at the summit of this mountain. Maybe that’s what the impressive hiker of Colorado mountains, Hulda Crooks, meant when she said, “That’s where we build character - on a mountaintop.” On my trek up to Marys Peak, I didn’t have a dramatic vision quest, as the Kalapuya might have experienced, but I did gain more confidence in my ability to meet a challenge. And perhaps getting a clearer perspective of my inner resources of strength and grit, along with the expanded vision of my world, when doing this hike, was empowering for me. That experience is definitely a treasure I’ll always remember. In fact, it’s a treasure worth experiencing again and again - as I continue to “build character” on mountaintops.

"On the descent, contemplating my experience" - photo by Lee G Young