On the Katwalk

Man oh man life is stressful. Time for Wood Therapy. This time I went with my wonderful sister-in-law to Kendall Katwalk along the Pacific Crest Trail. I've been wanting to do the Katwalk for years because I heard it's kinda freaky. It's about 11 miles round trip on Snoqualmie Pass. Basically back in the day some crazy guys tied ropes around their waists, took dynamite and helped formed the Katwalk. Thanks crazy guys.

This is about 3.5 miles into the hike. 3.5 miles of Andrea hiking with gloves in her boots. She forgot her insoles but remembered her gloves soo....anyway this image caught her eye and I had to take a moment to take a picture. On these hikes you forget to really think about how gorgeous things are. As you can see it's misty - it was even making mystical forest sounds!

This is subalpine hiking now. We went from the woods, to the rock fields (and heard lots of pikas!) until we emerged the area where the rocks are left behind and the meadows begin. Were also almost to the top! I couldn't decide what movie I felt like I was in...something whimsical.
Getting to the top we found ourselves in Kendall Gardens (above). Why didn't I take more pictures of the gardens? It was amazing. I have to go back and take more pictures now. There is no better feeling ridge hiking among some kicka$$ meadows. These are the meadows you see from I-90, point at and say "I want to go up there. It looks so green and inviting." And that's a Alan the Ogre quote (or loosely quoted).

In fact, this is I-90 from where I was standing. You can barely make it out. Feel the power of being on top though - right?
Were finally on the ridge (top) and heading towards the katwalk. Andrea is looking into pure white mist. We had NO idea what was out there. It was so odd that the mist wasn't spilling over to our side. I should of paid attention in science class better so I could know why. I bet Big D knows.
Here we are now on the Katwalk and the mist is swallowing us up. The trail is no longer dirt it is now pure rock that was blown up by the crazy guys back in the day. If you look closely at Andrea you can tell she's saying "This is scary, I don't like this - the edge is too close." And it kinda was scary so I couldn't resist to take advantage with a pic (see below).
So I wanted to show how vertical this rock was...I also liked the pretty flowers that were growing out of it. I had NO idea how far up I was but was certain my death was calling my name from below. I mean, I *am* on top of a ridge right? But as soon as I sit down on this rock Andrea scared me with how serious she was for me to GET OFF THE ROCK NOW. And then she said "I AM SO SERIOUS! That rock is moving!" I felt the rock wobble a bit...
And this is the rock I was sitting on. The rock on the edge of the sheer cliff. It didn't look that bad before I sat down. So. I probably wouldn't do that again. That's why I hope people enjoy the picture I got out of it! Don't let my near-death be in vain!

Here's Andrea taking one last look down the edge. I'm SOO stinking curious what this looks like when there's no mist. I think it was right before this that I exclaimed "I love being on top!" And found out Andrea is a perv. I just like hikes that go straight to the top of something. I like to say "See up there? Yeah, I hiked that bitch."

Looking at Red Mountain as we descend. I think we were along side Red Mountain at the top. Hmm..gotta go back so I can tell for sure. Oh, and Andrea's feet are starting to hurt her a bit at this point. Gloves aren't made to be insoles I suppose.

This rock is huge. Remember the rock creature that was trying to escape The Nothing from Neverending story? I think he left them here. It's hard to tell but you could fit a very square house inside that rock and live pretty darn comfortably. And the roof would never leak either.

I was really curious what the Katwalk looked like in the sun and this is the picture I found. I definitely need to go back. That's what I love about hiking - the same hike can seem like 10 different ones depending on the time of year and weather. So if you'd like to go back with me hit me up!

When Andrea and I got to the bottom she showed me the inside of her hiking boot without the insole. She hiked freaking 11 miles on green plastic...and a glove in each boot to cushion her heel. I should blog sometime about her amazing ability to block out pain when doing something physical. Mt. Adams. 101 temperature. That's Andrea.

What the heck is Geocaching?!

So I get asked that question frequently when I tell people that I went geocaching over the weekend. Like today in the elevator, I started to explain it and his eyes glazed over and he started to smile & nod. "Basically I'm just a nerd." That he gets.
But it reminds me of treasure hunting! I stinking love it! I was introduced one fouth of July at the ocean and have been hooked ever since. My Pa let me steal his garmin since he's too traditional to use it during hunting season anyway.
But the beauty of geocaching is that it shows you new and amazing things. People hide these geocaches in undiscovered parks, next to trails I never tried, a lake I never knew existed and on top of a peak with a great view, etc.

For example one of my latest
geocaches took me thru the Snoqualmie Tunnel - 2.3 miles of you (and my buddy Alan) just trying to get to that little light at the end of the tunnel. And not only did Alan and I find a geocache but in the darkness of the tunnel Alan hears a familiar voice. "Dur?" Alan asks...*silence* "Dur?!" is what we hear back - "Duryee!" One of our old co-workers was in the tunnel - very random. But Duryee was more brave and went without a flashlight. I think the flash of the camera assaulted his retina beyond belief. But it was a great reunion moment.

When I visited my friend Alicia on the East Side she screamed like a girl as we drove up a primitive road only to find a geocache that was covered in animal bones - but what a view.

Then there are these great things called "travel bugs". I still need to get one of my own and give them their own mission. Perhaps I'll get a He-man figure and explain that he's trying to find Greyskull...or by the power of Greyskull - either one.
Anyway - one travel bug I found wanted to travel to beautiful places and take pictures. So I took him (he was in form of a frog) on some hikes and took plenty of pics to send to his owner before putting him in a another geocache for his next adventure to begin. Another travel bug was a police car that wanted to travel to as many police stations as possible.
The premise is to find this geocache, sign the log and trade items (if you wish). Every geocache is different and some have better items to trade than others. Some of my favorite finds have been: Hand sanitizer (thank god), LED light (used for the tunnel) and even a home-made fishing lure that I gave to Alan the Ogre. There are even some enthusiasts (or at least one that I know of) that do "nudecaching." He posts pics of himself by the found geocache cleverly covering his junk. Whatever makes you happy - I guess everyone enjoys retirement in their own way...but I digress.
It's such a fun adventure and it's forced me to travel to many places I would never go. It gets so exciting to be on the hunt that I disregard the spider webs I walk into or, obviously, the animal bones I encounter.
If you'd like to join me take your sense of adventure and enthusiasm. Oh - and bring your determination! Some of these geocaches are a challenge to find so put your super sleuth caps on. I periodically have some geocaches that have become my nemesis forcing me to come back another day to try to find it again. I'm talking to you "Timber", "Raccon's Restaurant" and the one by Annette Lake that shall remain nameless.

Kelly Clarkson!

So I visited my good friends in Prosser again for some fishing, relaxing, good food and Wii! I really think Alicia and Mike should open up a resort. Alicia is an amazing cook, hostess and makes everyone feel at ease. Mike can do the man stuff like fish and hunt. Oh, and he fixes stuff that I don't know about. But Alicia will have to kill the spiders...



So now that talking on cell phones is illegal without a earpiece (and I'm too cheap & broke to buy one) I had only my thoughts and imagination to entertain me on the drive. Come join me...



*First of all my best friend, and all around wonderful person, Big D was in Tanzania climing Mt. Kili. To thank me in helping watching her house & cat while she was doing one of the most amazing things in her life - she gave me a gift certificate at a salon. What would I get done that I'd otherwise never pay for now that I'm broke? I'll let you guess. But holy KELLY CLARKSON!! It was quick and painful but I had bad flashbacks during the whole drive. *shudder*

*It was really hot this weekend and I saw a few, swollen & dead raccoons on the side of the road. Think they ever explode?

*Is that bad driver in front of me drunk or getting road head? Once I was brave enough to drive past him turns out he was just old....and probably drunk. But no road head that I could tell.

*I haven't heard any updates from Stacia in a few days - did she die in California? I need to send her a text message asking if she died (update - she hasn't answered back yet. I'm a little worried...)

*I miss Ellensburg. I see a train going by 97 - I remember one of my fav things to do in college was to do a midnight hike over the Yakima River and wait on top of this peak. The train tracks followed the Yakima River and when the train would come in the middle of the night it'd illuminate the whole valley and the light would sparkle off the water. *nostalgia*

*I need to do a wine tour soon.

*I'm sure Katy Price is a nice girl but her song needs to go.

*I'm glad I can enjoy the Big Distraction/Hot Detective now without taking anything to heart. But he did check out his muscles while I was talking to him the other day. Please don't.

*Sunday evenings are the most depressing night of the week.

*Washington is so stinking beautiful...but I wish the snow would melt so I could do the cool hikes.

*I got my first speeding ticket in Greenwater. Dangit.

*I'd eat more melon if they were all in the shape of bite sized balls.

*I'm glad I took Chinook Pass home - it's so beautiful! But driving thru Enumclaw, Buckley and Bonney Lake stress me out beyond belief. I have strong and good reason to believe that at least 30% of the population here drinks and drives.

*And on that note. If you're going to drive please have insurance. If you're going to hit someone with your vehicle then especially have insurance. Opening my mail today when I got home was a bad idea.

*And to summarize it all: Alan the Ogre *REALLY* needs to wash my car now. All the bug guts will be patient and waiting. Scrub Scrub.

The Happy Coastie

"I don't want to live in the City anymore." That's what I always say when I visit my good friends Mike & Alicia in Prosser, WA. Prosser is about a 3 hour drive to good living. Just look at their house! The first time I saw it, it was evening and the stars were bright. All the lights in the house were on and it took my breath away. Oh - and it's pretty good in the day too. They have 2 chocolate labs (one more useful than the other) and a new black lab puppy named Diesel...in a year his name will most likely need to be changed to Tank.

2.5 days in Prosser always feel like a week vacation when I get back to the coast. There are no worries...except for the suicidal birds. But that's it! What else is there to worry about? Just sun burns...which I actually consider good luck. The first time I visited I got 2nd degree burns, went to a job interview the next day and got the job. Thanks Prosser. You see, only good things happen there.

Last weekend Mike & Alicia invited me over once again (seen here - Mike is actually really excited to hang out with me). The first time I met Mike I was informed for the first time that I'm part of a group called the "Effing Coasties" - oh, and I edited that term. Mike entertained me thru out the weekend with why effing coasties were effing coasties. They especially are stupid effing coasties when it comes to fishing. One of my favorite stories is when he convinced stupid effing coasties that he caught a lot of fish in a fishless lake. So of course the stupid coasties went to that vacant lake. So imagine what a great honor it was when they invited me, a effing coastie, to go fishing!

So I'm a stupid effing coastie and my fishing experience is catch and release in various matters. I remember fishing for trout as a youngster with my Dad along the river. Big D and I made Alan row the boat when we went fishing last summer. We caught a fish that crap bait on Alan's hand. When I was in college I threw back a fish, overhand, into a tree and couldn't shake it out. Poor fish baked there in the sun. And just a few weeks ago I caught a little bass in a city lake (seen here). But over in Prosser Mike & Alicia don't mess around. They have a boat! And not a row boat - it has a motor and plenty of spaces to sit without rocking it. This was all very new for me.

We went out to the Columbia river and I was instantly overwhelmed by the new experience. All these boats, in a line, there's an anchor involved, all these fishing poles, colorful bait - I mean, a *lot* of bait. And bait isn't even the right word! I forgot what they're called. And they'd wrap sardines around it and cast it in. There were four poles in the water held by these useful contraptions at the end of the boat. So I looked around and took it all in just warming up with all my dumb questions.

All of a sudden there was a bite! That's when I found out when fishing with Mike & Alicia each person gets a turn to reel in a fish and it was mine to start. The stupid effing coastie in me took over and I had no idea how to hold this pole. "Stick it on your hip and just do what Mike says." Alicia tells me. So I stick it on my side, not my hip. And cranked hard. It was a blur - I remember cussing, asking what to do, feeling my arm burn, then the boat moving (later I found out we were "chasing" the salmon) and when I looked up I noticed the folks on the other boats watching me. Can they tell I'm a stupid effing coastie I wondered?

Anyway - I discovered one of my new favorite things in the world. It's when you're reeling in the fish and you can kind of see it hop off the water for the first time. Those salmon are big!! It was finally close to the boat and I'm mindlessly reeling still when I couldn't reel anymore (later Mike calmly explains to me that could break the pole). The salmon was twisting and turning and just when the net was close it got away. I was instantly sad and my pride hurt but everyone was so nice and reassuring that some fish get away, and some don't.

Salmon are freaking huge over there on the East Side. Unless Salmon are usually this big? I'm not quite sure. I'm a stupid coastie like I said.

Alicia had the next turn and she was flawless. She was in the zone and calmly struggled successfully in reeling in a 19 pound salmon. It was beautiful. I never had so much pride to be her friend like I did at that moment. I remember a year earlier when I was driving on the busy I-405 with all the other Coastie's and talking on the phone with Alicia. She talked about this HUGE fish - a bottom feeder I remembered - that she caught over the weekend. All I remember is it took a long time and thinking "holy crap, that's burly!" After she caught her salmon we talked about that big fish. She told me that it was an 8-foot sturgeon that took 3 people 1.5 hours to reel in. ....holy....crap. So THIS is fishing! Now I get it.

It was such a wonderful day of drinking beer, hearing stories and finally getting my own fish. It was my first salmon and Mike convinced me it would be OK to hold it with my bare fingers. And I'm so glad that he did. Sure, I had the smallest fish in the cooler but I was the happiest coastie on the Columbia that day. I'm so thankful for the lessons that were taught to me. One that I'm not convinced of though: "Hey Red! What's your name?" That's when the fella on the boat next to me told me not to be so concerned with my beer when a fish bites the line. I don't quite agree. This coastie is going to make sure the beer is in a safe place before she reels anything in. I'm still perplexed that isn't understood on the East side.

So this whole week I've been daydreaming about fishing again, Alicia's amazing cooking, getting to know Diesel better, talking with Alicia (one of the most laid-back, coolest chicks I know. I wish they had "Alicias" on the Coast), Mike showing off his boat skills and the slow & simple life in Prosser. And really...truly...I don't want to live in the city anymore.

Let the hiking begin!

Yay! It's hiking season. I understand that the snow is bound and determined to stick around but I don't care - I'm stoked. Even if I have to stay on lower elevation trails for a while I am still stoked. Last summer I made a vow to hike every stinking weekend and I did with the exception of the weekends that I ran in a race. Whoo-hoo! It was good... Not sure if I can afford the gas to do the same this summer but we'll see.

Big D will be hiking Kilimanjaro pretty darn soon so I've joined her on some training hikes. We did the typical Mt. Si which wasn't as hard as we remembered. So for a change of pace today we did Mailbox Peak. I kind of consider that hike to be the "Underground Trail" because it's not that well known but it's a good butt kicker. It gains 4000 feet elevation in 2.5 miles. It's not maintained and has tons of roots that can trip you up on the way up and down. Ok -it's like this: Ever drive along steep hillsides of lush forests and wonder "what's it look like at the top?" That's Mailbox Peak. It's like someone was curious and just forged straight up whether it made sense or not. It's June 1st and we eventually found ourselves in a snowfield with our shorts on. I took a quick picture to send to Alan the Ogre before my fingers froze up.

Anyway - to commence hiking season I have taken the liberty to post some hiking rules:

1. Don't hike in jeans. This stresses me out. Do you sleep in jeans? Do you ski in jeans? Then why are you hiking in them? It just looks wicked uncomfortable and hiking in cotton is never a good idea. Especially tight jeans. Big D and I saw some *tight* jeans on the Mt. Si trail and instantly felt second-hand discomfort.

2. Don't hold hands on the trail. Seriously. If you'd like to hold hands than take a stroll around Greenlake. I consider myself a patient person (now) but being stuck behind two hand-holders makes me want to growl. Is it that necessary? Will you get lost? Will your love suffer? No...just think of the distance as a reason to be joyfully reunited at the top. I promise I'll give you your privacy.

3. Cologne/Perfume. It just doesn't make sense to me. Especially later in the season. I remember when I was younger my Mother wore a watermelon-scented Jazzercise t-shirt and the bees were SWARMING. She screamed "Don!" (my dad) the whole time. We would look at the other hikers "Who's Don??" Anyway - it was a good lesson to watch. Plus, it's hard to be huffy and puffy and take in a strong whiff of that smell. Usually I appreciate it but not in the woods. Just doesn't fit the surroundings.

4. Ipods/MP3 Players. What is the point of hiking if you extinguish one of your senses? Being in the woods can be such a therapeutic venture but when you bring that element I fear it cheapens the experience. Sure you can still smell and see but you're robbing yourself of the full experience. I equate it to watching a movie without a soundtrack. You forget what a powerful element that can play in the whole production.... However I *do* find exception in training hikes like Mt. Si. There I realize people use that hike to get in the zone of their fitness with a long-term goal in mind. Ipods can be great for that - heck, if I had to run without music I'd suck worse than I already do. And that's pretty bad.

Happy Hiking to you all! Remember to always tell a buddy where you're going and bring a headlamp. Always. I've learned this the hard way...

I heart Shia

I'm almost 29 and I don't care. I have a crush on a young man named Shia. My buddy Derek can attest that I first noticed this hunk o' love when he was still illegal. He starred as Stanley Yelnats in the movie Holes - which I've seen *way* into the double digits. I don't know craph about the craft of acting but his impressed me. Loveable Jewish Dork? Maybe that's what it is. I've always liked beefy, bald, arrogant fellows but Shia has turned me soft.

At work I have his booking photo on my desktop - frequently I talk to him when things get tough on the job...he can always make me laugh.

Perhaps he reminds me of the group of cool dorky guys I hung out with in high school. I never had crushes on any of them but they will always have a special place in my heart. Perhaps Shia instigates the nostalgia of them all? Perhaps it took me ten years to start loving dorks and leave the Stone Cold Austin type behind. Is this growing up?

In any case - I heart Shia. Even though I had second-hand embarrassment when you swung with the monkeys - I'll still stand by you....you'll always be my luv chunk. xoxoxoxo

Word to my Mother

In the spirt of...the day after Mother's day, I thought I'd write about my top Mother stories. There are many of them - she is classic. Telling stories about my Mother has always served as not only an ice breaker but always served great caution when I was younger. "Whatever you do, don't whisper in front of my Mom because this one time..." One time I neglected to warn my friend Tera of that who, before she whispered in front of my Mother, thought she was really friendly and nice. After my Mom almost ran us into that telephone pole Tera knew my stories were indeed non-fiction.

For Mother's day this year all my Mom wanted to do was watch home videos of our family over the years. First of all - I can't believe how high and squeaky my voice was and secondly I can't believe that I tried for so many years to brush the curl out of my hair...but I digress. Here are some of my favorite, good-hearted stories. I'll save the bad stories for myself and anyone else who needs to be warned:

Toilet Paper

Growing up my brother and his friends liked to toilet paper each other's houses. I loved and hated this. I hated it because surely the next morning my Mom would march outside with her garbage bags, collect all the strewn toilet paper from the trees, bushes, roof, monkey bars, ground, etc. Then she'd march inside our house, put the full bags of toilet paper in our bathroom and declare that she is *not* buying anymore toilet paper until we use up this collected toilet paper. I still have the perfect image of small bugs crawling around the bag of used toilet paper. I for one would steal napkins from the kitchen - it was a personal assault to my body if not used carefully but it was better than risking assault from any unidentifable bug that was in that garbage bag. And yes, my Mother stuck to her word.

Locked Car

My Mother had gotten a newer car that had automatic locks. First of all, my Mother refused to lock any doors growing up - including our house door. So she has no idea what buttons for these automatic locks look like. Well, one day she accidently hits the "lock" button while she was driving and didn't realize it. She arrives home with her groceries but can't open her door. She looks over and does not see a traditional lock you can just pull up. She starts to panic. No one is at home but she sees a neighbor's light on. So my Mother drives in front of the neighbors house and starts honking. When no one came out she went to the next neighbor's house and still had no response. She starts to panic more - she's crying and breaking out into a sweat. She drives back home and has no choice but to wait. It is now dark and the ice cream is melting. She estimated later that she waited about 20-30 minutes crying in her car before REALLY taking a good look at the functions on her door. One push and: FREEDOM. She hops out of the car just before I arrive home. I see my Mother sweaty and with a bewildered look on her face. She still doesn't look doors.

Walk in the Woods

My Mother is a pervert. She is very open. She also enjoys moonlit walks in the woods. When I was 14 I went camping with my parents. After dark my Mother convinces my Father to take a moonlit walk in the woods while I stay in the camper and read my book. When they return they are flushed and my Dad has a nasty cut on his forearm. They explain that he took a nasty fall in the woods. I shrug this off....fast forward one week and the cut on my Dad's arm has gotten infected so bad that he has to wear an arm sling. We were at my Father's business picnic. My Mother is chatting up everyone, my brother and I are playing frisbee - it was a relaxing day. But my brother overhears one of my Mother's conversations and runs over to me in a panic. My Mother is telling everyone how her husband "REALLY" got that nasty cut on his forearm: sex in the woods. That was the last summer I went camping with them. Gross.

666

In high school I had a pager. Whenever I got a page from 666 I knew it was from my Mother. Why in the world would my Mother represent herself as Satan? Because for some reason she figured the phone knew that she was paging me with "M", "O", "M". When I told her the pager can't read minds and it shows up as 666, she shrugs. Until pagers went out of style the Devil paged me at least 2 times a day - triple that when I was out with my boyfriend.

Boyfriend

So with my first love I always missed curfew. One time when he brought me back home and was kissing me goodbye I see my Mother march out of our house...she is marching towards his car screaming "Krista Rose you're in big trouble!" Before I could lock the passenger door she flings it open. She grabs me by the arm and screams at my boyfriend to go back home. As soon as we get inside the house she's fine. The switch was flipped. Weird. She also liked to call my boyfriend's parents' houes and leave long messages on their machine about how disrespectful it was that I wasn't home yet. They eventually just turned the sound off on their answering maching... Another time I had her car while visiting my boyfriend at college. In a panic she calls my best friend who lives in the same dorm "Where is Krista Rose!?" My best friend suggests she call my boyfriend's room, it is 3am, he *should* answer right? This did not satisfy my Mother. She proceeded to yell at my friend for about 45 minutes about how disrespectful it was that I wasn't home yet. When I do eventually get home my Mother is friendly and cordial. Just last month my best friend reminds my Mother of this - and it still makes sense to her. She had to yell at someone is her reasoning. I'll take that.

There are so many more stories: I convinced her my hickey was a dare to put a vacuum cleaner to my neck; my homecoming date was an albino from Zimbawbwe; during my "sex" talk at 10 she gave me and my friends sex tips and tried to have my brother explain wet dreams to me; etc...

As she's gotten older she's gotten more mellow, but seriously, you still shouldn't whisper in front of her. Just don't....don't.