Nooksack Cirque, August 19 2009

I wanted an easy hike today to give my knees, my feet, and my Duncan a chance to recover from the harder hikes of the last three days. Poor Duncan was really dragging after yesterday.

It was a little hazy this morning when we got up, so I decided that we could get a late start in hopes that the haze would burn off. (The irony in this statement is not yet evident.) We got to the trailhead at about 9. First obstacle: the Ruth Creek crossing. There are two ways to do this crossing; the easy way, and the hard way. From the trailhead side of the creek, the obvious way to get across the log jam also happens to be the difficult way. Coming back to the car, you can see the easy way. Naturally, we took the hard way one direction and the easy way the other direction. Just to be helpful, I added three small cairns to the logs that are the easiest to follow across in hopes of sparing further idiots the hard route. Duncan made it back and forth repeatedly while I was contemplating exactly how to place my feet. He has awesome ninja skills.

The trail to the river is boring. It is as though someone put a treadmill in my front yard. Miles of nothing but standard Pacific Northwest foliage and ferns. The most interesting things along the way were the tree fungi.

We got to the Nooksack River and were immediately assaulted by bees. They were everywhere. They were landing on me, and for that they were dying hideous deaths by crushing. After about five minutes of no respite from bees landing on me, getting tangled in my hair, and harassing Duncan, we went back into the trees. The bees did not follow. I sat down, drank some water, ate a snack, fed Duncan, and eventually tried the river route again. No luck. More bees. I managed to get three pictures of the river in between hysterical swatting at bees on me, then left.

In other words, we did not go up the river valley to the glacier. It turns out that this was the right decision anyway, because there’s a shiny new wildfire upriver and the smoke was obscuring the view of the glacier anyway, so we saved ourselves the extra two miles of walking on sandbars and river stones for nothing. I thought all that haze was just from the heat and humidity. This is what I get for not having internet access this week so that I can check on things like this. Normally you can see the glacier from where you reach the shore of the river, but all I could see was white. Totally not worth it.

Beer bottle #32: “This is bottle number 42 of 40.”

We got back and I turned on the telly. It no longer works. It was fine this morning, but now all I get is a message: “Your smart card does not currently have authorization to view or purchase this program. Please wait or channel up or down.” Whatever that means. I was watching Good Dog U on Animal Planet and I turned off the TV when we left. Now I got nothin’. Good thing I brought a book and my iPod, huh? Also, I’m getting laundry done. That’s always a good time.

Beer bottle #31: “Beer: The 11th Essential. A shower is the 12th.”

So now I’m contemplating tomorrow. I figure I have two choices. I can either try to do a hike, or we can take a day off. In light of the fact that I’m having trouble navigating stairs right now, I think that means that my knees are on strike and I need a day off. If I try to go hiking, I’ll probably give up in agony and humiliation and go home. But if I take a day off to lounge around, drink and take pain killers, maybe go geocaching, and check out the “social trails” at Artist Point, maybe my knees will allow me to do one last hike before I bail out for home. Lake Ann is on the agenda. Mt. Shuksan is my favorite, so I really want to get as close to it as possible and do a little alpine worshiping before I go home. I think I have just answered my own questions about what I’m doing tomorrow. I think it is safer not to push it too much.

See, when I said that I was in the worst shape I’ve ever been in, I wasn’t joking. A year ago, I could have done hikes with 1,000 feet of elevation gain per mile for four or five miles, and now I’m not sure I can manage 500 feet per mile for more than two miles. Distance I can do, as long as there’s not much elevation gain, like Ptarmigan Ridge. That’s what I get for sitting around all winter, wrapped in my little grey blanket of Seasonal Affective Disorder. I need to be more careful about that this winter.

In fact, that’s something I’m worried about. Normally I can tell when the Seasonal Affective Disorder recedes. I’m not sure it did this year, which means my seasonal low may now be my norm. How lovely is that?

There’s someone lurking around outside. I can hear them walking around in the dark. That’s a little creepy. I’m sure they feel that way when I’m out there with Duncan. I’ll be sure to stick to the well-lighted areas.

Let’s talk about my sunburn for a few seconds, because it amuses me. I was wearing a ballcap while hiking, as is my wont, so my forehead is the normal color. The right side of my face is more burned than the left side. My right arm is also burned, and my neck is burned in that fabulous V that you get when your chin casts a shadow over part of your neck and allows the rest of it to burn. Also, I was apparently smiling a lot while I was frying (this was at Ptarmigan Ridge, you see), so I have these nice little white crescents on my cheeks that didn’t burn. It is all very attractive, I assure you. In spite of all of this, my skin looks healthier than normal. I guess getting out of the office is good for things other than my mental health. It hasn’t faded much in two days, which seems like it might be a bad thing. If nothing else, I’ve learned that the moisturizer I used that day is not an effective sunscreen. I’ll use the other one from now on. (Why do I have two moisturizers to go hiking? Because I’m a girl.)

Speaking of lurking in the dark… did you know that a Great Dane drinking from a stream in the dark looks an awful lot like a mountain lion from a certain angle? You’re welcome. I thought you might need to know that.



Nooksack Cirque, August 19 2009