Sea 6 - Hope In a Canyon of Grey

SEA 6 - Hope In a Canyon of Grey

The rain seems to echo in these canyons. Drounding out all ambient
sounds. Only the rapid hiss of the drops falling upon these man made
rocks. Time slowing to the moment of each drop, stoking the smooth
film that covers the court yard. Here in this innercity plaza, alone
with the rain falling from the heavens, reminders that even within the
deep concrete canyons, nature is her own master. As I look outA, time
speeds up, bring each drop to the rhythmn and the beats of the moment.
A man walks before me on his way, a bus travels by, and the city
unfolds, layer after layer, in it's speeding rythmn, but only I
remain... Watching, observing, the ever present naturalist, taking
notes, filling pages behind glass lenses, always watching and waiting.

The city has been my home for five months, and yet the wilderness has
always been just beyond the horizon. Here in these concrete canyons, I
wait, summers rays just beyond the mark. And as the cherry bloosems
begin to bud, I know time is short and I must begin moving again. The
wanderlust in my soul pulls me closer, with trails and job planned
ahead, I have spent the last few days taking in the City-by-the-Sound.

We live in a time when loss is common, the death of the middle-class,
as retirement, and futures seemto fold. Where many sit and asses their
assests, but do they really know those that are true. In times of
hardship, it is friends and joy that find themselves to be the
greatest of Assest. Illreplaceable by material consernse, they are
what pulls us forward through these times. In concrete canyons and
suburban plains, a generation searches for wonder, laying just beyond
their fingertips.

The sudden burst of wings, flapping and snapping in unison, broken by
the distant sound of a ferry's horn reverberating aginst the glass and
steel walls surrounding. Awoken by a dream, I watch the mass circle
against the sky to land again at the fountains edge, brought to life
by the urban pulse. And yet through these canyon walls, the Sea is
within sight. On this spring day I can smell the salty air of low
tide. The sun marks it's time leading the eyetowards mountain
wilderness, just beyond it's edge.

And through it all Natures presence even within the domain of man,
seems to bring Hope to the Traveller's heart. Even here wonder at life
can find itself... Expression... Nurturing and calling! Follow it, and
the journey will beginonce again... Again, along the long thin line,
walking out the miles to the beat of footsteps of the true mile... The
long mile, home...

Along the waters of a Seattle Rain Retreat,
Ridgewalker
山武士
seattlerainretreat.blogspot.com

SEA 5 - Mid Winter Summer

SEA 6 - Mid Winter Summer

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.com

SEA 4 - Tour de Cap

SEA 4 -- Tour de Cap
The snow falls silently on the city streets. The over head lights give
the world it's orange hue as the sky is filled with flakes this
Saturday evening. My glide follows the lines of another Nordic
traveler as I make my way towards the Roanokee at the end of the
hill. After 5 km of skiing, a Jolly Rogers winter ale seems to
apatite the taste buds and set the tone for this little ski bar at the
north end of the hill.
Back on the streets, I pass through groves and trails that seem to
come out of a city that has been ordinary since I return. The cold
chill reaches deep into my chest and brings forward vitality of life.
I feel as though this recent storms that have painted the city white,
have repaid the peoples tempo as well. The city has hovered at being
shut down for days, but now the foot of fresh makes it the domain of
the skier and the shoer. And I work my 10 km Tour de Cap.
Tomorrow I had planned to head to the mountains. But Solstice will be spent skiing the hills of Seattle instead...

Along the waters of a Seattle Rain Retreat,
Ridgewalker
山武士
seattlerainretreat.blogspot.com

SEA 3 - Roaming the Frozen Silence

SEA 3 - Roaming the Frozen Silence

There has been a sense of anticipation in the city lately. The lack of
real snow seems to have the snow worshippers edgy lately. Huddled over
their beers watching old ski videos and talking in low tones about the
banana belt that has been holding back that Arctic flows from the
north. Usually, Warren Miller & Banff lead the huddled masses towards
inspiring dreams. But this year they have been wanting in the
inspiration they yield. And so left with this all I find myself
driving deep up the S Fork Stilly to find inspiration, maybe even some
snow.

The road twists and turns about corners and bends in the river.
Emereld pools and lichen filled cedars line the river bank of this
hidden ribbon. With the window down the crisp morning day fills the
car, refreshing the lungs and the spirit as the mountains steep sides
begin to close in upon the old route to Monte Cristo, the promised
treasure of gold at the end of the line. Catching glances into the
forest floor after Verlot, I catch a brief sight of a stoic Elk
looking out towards the passing vehicle, half hidden by a stand of
Hemlock. This forest has eyes today.

The long road ends at the base of Dickerman, a mountain that vaults
skyword without regards to the weary traveller. The switchbacks began
in ernest, climbing continously with a steady rythmn across the
forested slope. With it an erie silence to the ascending canopy,
clinging to the ground with long arms of wood wraping around every
boulder and contour of the land. A chill holds the forest, yet lacking
snow. Only ice and the echos of drops falling upon frozen pools. I
climb higher, repeating each switchback with the beat of a metronome.

A raven breaks the silence, I hear only the whipsing haunts of it's
flights as it finds a limb to inspect me. Cauking it's head in
inspection it's eyes gaze deep into my soul inquiring as to where I
had came from and my intent. For this is a forest in waiting. The hunt
is over, and man has left it's groves in anticipation of the coming
winter snows. And yet the wilderness still remains, living through
this silent time. It haunts me as I climb higher towards the summit,
luring me on. It is the time of between, it is now that spirits are
exposed and left to dwell upon past events. And yet this forest seems
highten in sense. I hear eveyaction, quickening my pace.

Reaching a alpine meadow, summer has faded leaving a light snow and
ice crusted trail. Each step brings the repetative sound of crnching.
My movements seem the only occupent of this realm other then the low
roar of the Stillaguamish far below. The view opens up to the grand
peaks of the Monte Cristo Range. Dressed in the light lace of white,
almost highlighting each's features. Big Four stands broad shouldered
with might, each line of it's many cliffs highlighted to the vally far
below. Del Campo, with it's tilted lines lifted towards heaven, the
imagination swirls with thoughts of alpine ascents along each line.
And Vesper, gilded with white fields to her rise, it alures the
backcountry with in me.

Clouds abound, turning black in places. Yet they pulse like velvet to
create a cloth above each pinicle, each peak. The low light with a
trim of gold to the south only seems to harness all the feeling of
this cold alpine silence. This landscape begs me to explore, an
undeniable calling. The mountains are empty and beholder to none.
There for the exploration. A faint trail leading up to Sperry's
heights and Vespers height seem to call for tommorrow. With many more
miles before I sleep, I turn back knowing that in the next day I'll
return. Following the rivers from the Sound, forests silent and deep,
more to explore towards those peaks.

Along the waters of a Seattle Rain Retreat,
Ridgewalker
山武士
ridgewalkernw.blogspot.com

SEA 2 - Another Trip Around the Sun

For me Thanksgiving always has a completely different conotation then
others have. This is the day that I head off to the forest, and plan
out my next year of existance. It is time to reflect upon the past
year, and to enjoy the cycle of nature about me. This year has been a
beautiful one. From the winters of Quebec, to the summer along the
Pacific Crest, the fall among the beauty of an Okanogan Apple Orchard
to these days besides the whisper of tide waves of the Puget Sound, I
feel like a lucky man to be able to travel so, and thankful to those I
have meet along the way. Now bound to a winter and summer benieth the
Cascade White Mtns, I gain a sence of the direction that this summer
pointed. My favorite poet spoke it well, Mountains and Rivers Without
End; and indeed that is what I have come to understand of my life.

Yesterday I took the time to walk along the upper reaches of the
Snoqualmie to Dutch Miller Gap. With the mountains of the Alpine Lakes
vaulting upwards like a Himalayan dream, I could only feel but
enclosed in the warm cloak that these mountains fire my heart. With
water streaking white out of each spout of forest green, white
mountains covered in mist, and the roar of the rivers returning to the
Sea, it was enough to provoke a man to believe.

Do these mountains hold spirits, hidden in the rivers flow, the
lichen covered rock bluff, the skyward grasping tree, or the echoing
Ka of Lord Raven. These woods hold me like a spell, and with a year to
behold their lessons, I look forward to this 32nd year of life to
celebrate and learn what my home woods have to teach.

Like rolling drums the views of the High Cascades lure me forward and
seal my fate for the coming year, into the inner sancturay of the
glacier clad five and the ridges of hiding gems. Each of them will
find me lured to their high flanks in the coming year, and climb them
I shall. Some people look upon high places to conqure, but there is
far more to learn by following the elegant ridgelines, lead on like a
woman leading you higher. Respected they may well reveal their
summits, but only to those that pay homage to their beauty and natural
power. One climbs only on the mountains terms...

With the close of a day of reflection, I spent in warm waters of a
Hotsprings cave along a rain forest river. As I watched the steam come
off the waters edge, I could only be humbled by a soul that passed
from this world. A powerful spirit that will be missed, and while
looking up at maple baughs leafless, I am reminded of the spirit of
cycles, and rebirth will return to her spirit, and the land. For enjoy
the winter, and the power just before birth. For if it comes in the
seed of a newborn, the visionof a dream, or in the grove before the
dawn of the spring. Each holds such a magical offering to the spirit
to live between the worlds that to miss it would be a shame. Watch the
moments before the dawn, they hold the gentle essence of life...

Along the waters of a Seattle Rain Retreat,
Ridgewalker
山武士
ridgewalkernw.blogspot.com

SEA 1 - Seattle Rain Retreat

Back from a long adventure the city has just as many wonders as the mountains do. I begin to think of Buddhist Monks walking the length of the Ganges and Himalaya, to take the time of the monsoon season as reflection and meditation time. It was here that they took on the lessons of the Bodhisattva's before heading out on their pilgrimages once again. My time in Seattle as I save for the next expedition and endeavor to learn more of the natural history of the places I have been and where I am going as well. Hikes in the local mountains have much to bring here in Seattle and the Puget Sound Area. Soon the snow will fall in the cascades, and a new season will bring with it new thoughts. This will be my source of writing blogs till I leave on my next adventure in 2009... Enjoy

-- Ridgewalker