Berkley park with Rachelle

An anemone casts a long shadow

Mountain Goats

You need only head into the wilderness with a pack on your back, not merely to discover the wild but to also to delve inward and discover yourself. I have found this rings true when sharing an adventure with a friend as well.

Rachelle and I bickered our way through senior year. I wont though, because I managed to get her kicked out of Mr. Lucas's second period English. (Yes, I'm taking credit for that.) She has grown up in the shadow of Mount Rainier, with her family prevalent in Eatonville and neighbors. She is one of the many ex and current Cruisers who speckle either side of the highway, between Eatonville and Paradise, waitressing and hosting at Copper Creek Inn. Needless to say, after serving countless families and other tourists, bee-lining to camp in Mount Rainier National Park, it was time that she got her shoes a little muddy and went backpacking.

Home for the night

Matching free time between work schedules is a constant battle, a sub-conflict in the war between professional life and social life. With a single day of overlap  per week and neither of us willing to give up an entire day's salary, we figured we could hit the road after Rachelle got off.
The drive down Stevens Canyon and up the Sunrise road was marked by a streak of rainbow on either side of the road, as we raced past lupine, paintbrush, and monkey flower.

A scraggly bear, browsing Berkley Park

Strapping on our packs (well MY packs, it pays to have extra gear), the Sunrise meadows welcomed us in. A herd of forty or so mountain goats greeted us as we stumbled over the ridge on to Frozen Lake, scouring the tundra like environment. Long shadows lagged far behind bobbing up and down on the trail, while a fiery sun set. Eventually, after a right turn off the Wonderland, a lazy marmot, and a feasting black bear, we paralleled  a chilling alpine creek, dropping into Berkeley Park Campground. I demonstrated to Rachelle the fine art of Kraft mac and cheese, furnishing chopsticks after one of us (I won't say who) forget her fork, and of course, the human dishwater sump, in proper LNT manner.
The next day's hike out confirmed that we were on the East side of the mountain. Drier climate and  abundant patches of sand (not mud) are a nice compliment to the frequent moist state of our homeon the West side.
After meandering hike up the Burroughs Mountains and some snow patch trans versing, we headed back to Sunrise. Sunrise is a very neat destination, don'g get me wrong, the redone visitor center in the old style, stockade look somehow belongs in the Sunrise meadows. The parking lot is a harsh and sudden juxtaposition that doesn't. That day was the worst that I've seen it. Cars for miles. The optimistic part of me tells me to be thankful. Rachelle and I drove up here, we came to enjoy all that the mountain has to offer.  Each car is another person or family who is getting out into their National Parks, and there is nothing wrong with that.

Some Andes mints and a Copper Creek burger

"It is better to be in chains with friends, than a garden with strangers."