A curious name for a curious time, here in the Northwest. Every year a few weeks after the dawning of a new calendar, the character of the Puget Sound changes. After as many days as one can handle of relentless snow, wind and rain, there comes a time of peace and warmth. When the sun rises above mountains and water, and all seem to return outside from their humble rain holes that they have been held up in. In the warm late Jan/Feb days, it seems the whole city is alive with people getting outside and renewing theirselves to the gentle golden hues of the dancing sun. This is the Midwinter Summer.
Today the mountains beconned, and so a friend and I took to an old trail that has a sense to awaken old muscles and kindle the flame for hiking within. The woods early in the morning still dark and deep, and yet the lure of Mailbox calling forth, we find ourselves like children to the flute player, dawn by an unspoken desire to follow the beat of footfalls upon the forest floor.
Soon I remebered the legacy of this trail, it holds no mercy. With numbers of 4000 feet of gain in a mere 2.5 miles, it falls in the class of straight up deer path. The years have found some repair and blazes to keep track of the ever changing shifts. But still with resounding comsistancy, the ascent finds itself amoung roots, rocks and fallen logs. And yet through it all, the forest of hemlocks seems to paint the canvese well, with Salal and Oregon grape, brimming from below.
As we make the summit, the views of the mountain begin to pour forth unending. A glinps first taunts me of Tahoma to the south, then the Olympics begin to rise with white laced lines, guiding the eyes across the Sound. This single view seems to shake me. Bellow this gulf between the mountains, I have found myself in a cloud of Seattle City Daze. Almost symbolicly, the fog still drifts along the waters edge, giving the buildings of the downtown, that fantistical effect of the Emerald towers amount the clouds.
Pushing higher the ridge begins to expose itself, in talus fields and harden snowfields. The air is warm, yet windy, while Gorthok and I push higher on. At Ridgecrest, the glacier-clad maiden of Baker dots the horizon, with Glacier just peering over the ridge. As always the elegant lines of DaKoba Ridge and the core of the Alpine Lakes line leads thoughts of high summer days along backcountry meadows, exploring reach after reach.
Imagination and memory are the harvengers of this time, with views unending, as temperatures soar. It is a blessing to those who live below of the beauty that will come. Still the winter will have it's second turn. But for now, the lure of the mountains and clear skies is bringing us all out once more to explore..
Along the waters of a Seattle Rain Retreat,
Ridgewalker
山武士
seattlerainretreat.blogspot.
