Reaching the Summit

Despite a horrible weather report predicting a 60% chance of rain on Friday, Saturday and Sunday, I decided to suck it up and follow through with my camping trip last weekend. When I agreed to go with some friends a few weeks ago, it seemed safe to say that they weather would probably be decent in mid-July. The only concern I had at that point was having to sit around in the dirt in 90-degree weather with no water nearby. This was not the case.

We left the city on Friday night headed for Mount Rainier National Park. A few hours later we arrived at our site at Cougar Rock campground. It was dark, cold and drizzling. Definitely not the most fun environment to set up a tent, but we made the best of it. A tarp stretched between two trees made a perfect shelter for Winston, Tara, Jillian and me to sit around the fire and drink beers while we waited for Adam and Liz to arrive.

Jillian and I passed out relatively early in my new tent. I woke up the next morning and excitedly realized that it was almost 11 a.m. Notoriously, camping always manages to wake me at the crack of dawn, usually because of the heat. But since there was no blazing sun to force me awake, I had been able to sleep in. My air mattress, sleeping bag and two blankets were actually super comfortable.

Since I had awoken in such a good mood, I decided that I would join the group on a mountain hike, something I normally loathe and avoid like the plague. However, Tara had done the same hike last year and at her urging I agreed to go. We packed lunches and headed out.
The weather was fairly decent… cloud cover but no rain, and probably about 65 degrees. As we headed up the mountain from the visitor’s center, I realized that we had probably gotten really lucky. The temperature was great for hiking as we started up Skyline Trail in our t-shirts. A novice hiker, I was super nervous about the five mile, four hour hike. However, Winston insisted that we would go at a decent, steady pace that didn’t push anyone too hard, and even let me lead the way.
We trail began by winding through a beautiful green field filled with wildflowers. A few minutes later we all stopped short. A huge, beautiful deer was grazing less than 15 feet from the trail. It didn’t seem at all startled by our presence but continued it’s wandering until we had snapped photos and moved on. Chipmunks darted across the trail and I literally felt like a character from Bambi as we trekked up the mountain.
It didn’t take long before the burn began to set in, but I was determined to finish the hike. I was sweating and breathing hard, and thought again how thankful I was that we weren’t hiking in the normal summer heat. The trail continued to wind uphill until the grass turned to rock pathways and stairs. The higher we got, the steeper the trail got. I don’t know if it was the fresh mountain air, or my body’s response to the unexpected exercise, but I felt absolutely fantastic. My fatigue of an hour before was gone and I felt like I could hike forever looking at the beautiful trees, streams and wildlife.
About two hours in the rocks had begun to mix with patches of snow, and we arrived at the Nisqually Glacier lookout. I had no idea we would get so close and was practically mesmerized by the site. At this point the elevation had dropped to the point that warranted our sweatshirts before continuing on to Panorama Point. By the time we reached this lookout 45 minutes later, fog had rolled in. Super disappointing, because we could tell that the view would have been absolutely gorgeous.
At this point we were presented with a conundrum. The path we had chosen to take was covered with snow and officially closed. We would have to hike up even higher than expected in order to begin our decent without having to turn around and come back the way we had come. At this point things began to get grayer and rockier with each step. Every time we rounded a bend we were sure the path would begin a downward grade, but we were proven wrong again and again.
Finally, we reached the top. As if to punish us, the wind picked up and it began to drizzle. No longer talking and laughing, we began our downward journey. About an hour later, we began to see green fields and streams again. As the rain subsided, we sat on the rocks in our damp clothes to eat lunch with frozen fingers. We were definitely ready to reach the bottom, but took the time to stop at a beautiful waterfall before heading back to the visitor’s center. Even though we were cold and tired, I have to admit it was by far the best hiking experience I had ever had.
Back at the campsite Jillian I took naps while Tara prepared a pot roast over the fire. We drank hot chocolate laced with Kahlua while we waited for dinner. And the wait was definitely worth it. Pot roast cooked for four hours over a campfire is my new favorite meal. I don’t think even my grandma could compete with Tara’s creation. It was like a little piece of heaven.
For the rest of the evening and night we sat around the campfire laughing and playing the celebrity name game. I was extremely irritated when told that my own first and last name was not an appropriate response, and from there things get a little hazy. Camping never fails to turn into a fun drunken night. The next morning we awoke and packed up.

I thought for sure that camping in the rain and hiking (something I thought I hated) was going to be a miserable experience, but I ended up having an absolutely fantastic time. And now my new tent, camp chair and cooler are broken in for the rest of the summer. Good thing, because I think I have at least three more camping trips planned already.

Does this mean I have to start wearing Teva sandals, hemp necklaces and a fleece vest? Let’s not get carried away…