Scott and I took this week’s Monday Hike on the South Baker Lake Trail to Anderson Point. Anderson Creek was low enough today that we were able to cross over without any problems. This is the first time we’ve made it to the other side since the bridge washed out.
We met some way cool hikers from Ohio and Pennsylvania down at Anderson Point: Tom, Steve, Mark, and another Mark.
After our hike to Baker Lake, Scott took me out for a birthday dinner at the Chuckanut Manor. My former student, Drew, was working there tonight and seeing him always brings me such joy. He’s one of those people who just shines out good will and kindness and enthusiasm for life.
Drew apparently let out server know who we were, because when Melissa came up to our table she knew our names. She saw I was wearing my amber necklace and asked me about it. It turns out she is a rock-lover, too!
Melissa asked us if we’d like drinks. I asked her what kinds of mocktails she had. Did she have anything with lavender maybe? Melissa, as it happens, has been a bartender for years, and is great at creating new drinks – so, for me, she created a carbonated lavender-lemonade – and it was perfect!
At the end of our dinner, Melissa came up to me and said she’d heard it was my birthday (Drew again, I’m pretty sure ), and she had a present for me. She reached into her pocket and pulled out an amethyst stone and handed it to me! “Really?! You’re giving this to me?!” I asked, blown away by her generosity. She said this is what she does for people’s birthdays now – she gives them rocks. (I turned to the young bartender, who was grinning, and asked if she’d given HIM rocks, and he nodded his head and laughed.) When Melissa discovered I, too, was a rock-lover, she knew she needed to give ME a rock. Whoah.
But she wasn’t done, yet. A few minutes later Melissa came back, reached into her pocket, and pulled out another rock! – this one was a slice of a petrified tree. She said her father had given her a bunch of these, and now it was bringing her joy to share them with others, and she handed me the petrified wood.
My friends, I have had a wonderful day – a lovely hike in the cool green woods to Baker Lake; a delicious dinner; well wishes from my Facebook friends; and ROCKS!!!!
October 8, 2024 Last week my son, Xander, and I planned a trip up to Mount Baker today. But this morning when I woke up and checked the weather it looked like it was pretty miserable up there. The son and I decided to call the trip off. A couple hours later, though, when I checked the weather again, it looked like there might actually be some sunshine at Baker. So I texted my son and told him about the change in the weather forecast, and asked him if he’d like to give it a try. Then I opened my thoughts up to the Cosmos and put the day in Her hands. I decided I’d be happy with however the day evolved for me.
Pretty soon the son texted back and said he still wanted to go up there. Within the hour I’d picked him up and we were on the road.
And it was glorious up there! We stopped at Picture Lake to take some quick pictures of Mount Shuksan (and we got there at the just right time – not long after we left the clouds moved in and blanketed Shuksan). We did a quick little hike on the nature trail at Heather Meadows and then went on up to the Artist Point parking lot and hiked up to the top of Artist Point.
On the way up we came upon a bride and groom, Sarah and Etienne, in full wedding regalia, and they cheerfully agreed to let me snap a quick photo. Later I asked a couple from Canada if they’d like me to take a picture of them together with their camera and they thanked me and said yes. On the way down we ran into them again, and this time I asked Kathy if I could take a picture of her with her sweet pup, Coriander.
It was such a lovely day – a gift from the Cosmos. I really needed this.
Scotty and I went up to Paradise yesterday to walk around in the autumn colors. Last week the weather forecast had predicted sunshine up there, but… that changed. 😀 It was pretty wet up there, but it was still beautiful. I thought my camera was doing some sort of weird automatic “vignette” with my photos (fading my photos out at the corners), but then I realized my lens filter was actually all fogged-up on the rim. 😀
Highlights: On the drive up to Paradise from Longmire, I glanced over at a parking lot by the Nisqually Glacier (or where the glacier USED to be), and saw a familiar van – I was pretty sure this was the same van I’d seen at Mount Baker last week, and I was pretty sure it belonged to my new friends, Cecelia and Bob. Whoah. So I messaged them, and learned that they were at Rainier, too! That was kind of cosmic. (We passed them on the way back down, but I don’t think they saw us.)
We went into the Paradise gift shop at the Visitor Center and chatted with the pair of salesclerks behind the counter. I told them I’d worked in the old Visitor Center almost 50 years ago – back when the Visitor Center looked like an alien spacecraft. They laughed and said the old Visitor Center had flown back to the Mother Ship.
I found one of my Dad’s books in the giftshop – it’s always fun to come upon his books or maps in tourist hangouts. It helps me feel he’s still here with us.
At Myrtle Falls, we came upon a couple of National Park employees getting the trails ready for winter. I thanked them for their service and we chatted for a bit about climbing. Noah and Carter were pretty fun and graciously agreed to let me snap a photo.
Then, as we were coming back from the Falls, a little family of sooty grouse (I mistook them for ptarmigans at first) crossed our path (literally) and we snapped some quick pics. ***
We visited the Ashford Creek Pottery shop on the way up to Rainier yesterday to visit its proprietor, our old friend Rick Johnson, and to take pictures of the artwork of Dad’s that Rick has hanging on the walls. I also got Rick to pose with art by Todd Horton (who, coincidentally, lives in the same Skagit Valley communicty as us), and to pose with one of Dad’s books.
(I think the painting that most tickled me yesterday was one Dad had painted depicting mountains of Alaska – and in which he’d whimsically added the Matterhorn in the background. I was looking at the painting, and then thought, “Whoah. That’s the Matterhorn there. What’s THAT doing there?” 😀 It put a grin on my face. Dad. Hahhahhahahar!) -Karen Molenaar Terrell
In the end, it was as simple as getting in my car, driving myself up to the mountains, and taking a hike. But it hadn’t seemed that simple before I did it.
A year ago I had a fall that knocked the confidence out of me. I was trying to step onto a two -foot high curb – thinking, in my head, that I was still an agile youngster rather than the sixty-something woman I actually am – and ended up landing on my knees and arms, bleeding and bruised. It was a shock to me. What the heck had just happened there?! After the fall, I began having doubts about my physical abilities.
I’d been planning to go on a hike up Table Mountain the next day. But Table Mountain is a steep little hike up the side of a cliff and, having fallen trying to step over a two-foot high curb the day before, I thought it prudent to cancel the Table Mountain hike and do a hike a little less harrowing with my family.
After the fall, I no longer had the confidence to go on mountain hikes by myself. I found myself in a mental retreat – starting to pull inside a shell. But in trying to keep myself “safe,” I was making myself unhappy. I was BORED! And I realized that if I wanted to keep my sanity, my competence and abilities – and regain my confidence – I needed to push myself and do stuff on my own. I needed to get out and do the stuff that brings me joy and challenges me. I needed to trust myself and trust in Love, too, to protect me.
And so when I found myself with an open day and a good weather forecast, I told my husband that I thought I might go on a hike up Table Mountain. I knew that he wouldn’t be able to join me because he had knee surgery this summer, but I told him I felt I needed to do this by myself, anyway. He laughed and said, “Be careful. You might roll down the mountain.” I knew he was joking, but I also heard a little concern in his voice. I understood. It’s always worrying when our loved ones go off to have an adventure on their own, and we can’t be there if they need us. But, to his credit, my husband didn’t try to stop me – I think he knew I needed this.
When I woke up that morning, I still hadn’t decided for sure to go on the hike. But by the time I got dressed and got downstairs, I knew I was going. I packed a quick lunch for myself, threw the hiking essentials into my backpack, kissed my husband good bye, and hit the road for my big adventure.
I got up to the trailhead at Artist’s Point pretty early – I’d wanted to avoid the heat of the day. I was probably on the Table Mountain trail by 8:30. I was the only one on the trail when I started out. It was quiet and peaceful up there. Butterflies danced in the wildflowers and a nice fir-scented breeze swirled around me. It felt good to have my shoes on an alpine trail again. I made my way up the side of Table Mountain, stopping now and then to take photos. About mid-way up the side of the mountain there was a step that was a little too big for my 5’3″ self – a step bigger even than that curb I tripped over a year ago. But I found a rock jutting out above the step and hoisted myself up. Take THAT too-high step!
Before long I was standing on the top of Table Mountain. I texted my husband a message to let him know I’d made it to the top, and I hadn’t rolled down the mountain. I hiked around up there for a little while, taking photos and eating trail mix, before I started back down again. I passed a young family coming up on my way down. I told them they would have the entire top of the mountain all to themselves – that it was really quiet up there – and we all wished each other a good day.
When I got back to my car, I realized I didn’t feel “done,” yet. I decided to drive down to the Heather Meadows parking lot and find a little trail to hike on there. I ended up on the short nature trail – passing views of Table Mountain and the valley down below, and a creek laughing past purple wildflowers. I stopped by the creek for a while, and just let the joy of it fill my soul. I pooled water from the creek into my hands and splashed my face and neck and then plucked some wild blueberries off the low-growing mountain blueberry bushes and popped them in my mouth. I was in heaven, my friends.
In the end, it was as simple as getting in the car, driving myself up to the mountains, and taking a hike, to find what I’d lost a year ago.
“…they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.” -Isaiah 40:31
mountain blueberries, tangy on my tongue, I stretch my arms wide and let the fir-scented alpine breeze swirl around me and lift the hair from my neck shoes on rock, hands finding a hand hold to pull me over a three-foot step, butterflies dancing in the wildflowers and a creek laughing around the boulders in its path – I am exactly where I’m supposed to be -Karen Molenaar Terrell
Mount Baker from the Table Mountain Trail in the North Cascades.
Sauk Mountain and I have a long history together. The first time I hiked up Sauk was in 1985. I would have been 28 or 29 then. My husband was working as a photographer for the Skagit Valley Herald and he took a photo of me on Sauk, with the caption, “Hiker Karen Terrell negotiates a switchback on Sauk Mountain.” A few years later I climbed to the top of Sauk with my dad, Dee Molenaar, who would have been in his seventies. I have a photo of me standing on Sauk with Dad, both of us smiling at the joy of being together in the mountains. When we became parents, Sauk Mountain was one of the first hikes Scott and I took our sons on. And our dog, Sam, went up as a puppy and, later, as a full-grown Labradane in her prime. Sauk holds a lot of sweet memories for me.
This has been a busy summer – our calendar looks like an obstacle course of comings and goings – appointments, lunches, events, zoom meetings, trips – good and important things – but, alas, other than a quick little hike at Artist Point, it’s been hard to find time to get back into the mountains, and I’ve missed them something terrible. Our busy schedule sometimes left me feeling frustrated this summer – feeling like my time was running out – and I reached out to God, Love, in my thoughts to find some comfort. The message that came to me was to be patient and wait. The time would come. Love isn’t limited and Life isn’t ever done giving gifts.
This weekend my brother, Dave, and my niece, Claire, visited us. On Saturday they ran in a 14-mile race near Issaquah and then spent Saturday and Sunday nights with us. On Sunday morning, as we were gathered around the table eating breakfast, I mentioned that I was missing the mountains and longing for a good hike. Scott wasn’t able to come with us, but he suggested that maybe the three of us should go up Sauk. Dave looked at me and asked, “You wanna go?” And boom – just like that – I had the opportunity to be back in the mountains on one of my favorite hikes, with my brother and niece – two of my favorite people!
It had been almost 40 years since I FIRST hiked up Sauk Mountain and two years since the LAST time I’d hiked it. A lot had happened in the last two years – and, to be honest, I wasn’t sure how my body was going to feel about me putting it back on the Sauk Mountain trail. I was a little nervous that it was going to rebel. In the past I’ve had some struggles when it gets too hot, and it was going to be a hot day and we were going to be hitting the trail near noon. And… people of my age are sometimes referred to as “elderly” – so the thought, “I’m old!” was poking around in my head. Also: “I’m heavy!” “I’m old and I’m heavy and I don’t do well in the heat.”
But…
God had just presented me with a gift – a gift I had been pining for and prayed for – and how could I not accept it? And if the gift came from Love – how could it bring conditions with it? All I needed to do was accept this gift and enjoy it. All those other things – age and size and heat – were just obstacles of my imagining and couldn’t stop Love’s unfolding of Good.
It didn’t take us long to fill our backpacks with the essentials and head out the door. We loaded ourselves into Dave’s truck, Dusty, and set out for the mountains.
When we got to the trailhead, Dave, an ultra runner, made sure Claire and I had everything we needed and then ran ahead. While he zipped up to the summit, and then ran back to check on us before he headed out again – this time for Sauk Lake – Claire and I made our way up the switchbacks of the southern face, stopping now and then to take photos or rest in the few shady patches under the trees to rehydrate. Claire and Dave had never been up Sauk before, and it brought me a lot of joy to be the one to introduce them to this hike. When we reached the top of the switchbacks and moved to the other side of the mountain – my favorite part of the hike – it brought a grin to my face when I heard Claire exclaim, “It just keeps getting better and better!”
The hills were full of magic, my friends! Insects flitted among the alpine wildflowers – Indian paintbrush, asters, and bluebells; there was the smell of mountain heather and ozone; there were friendly, happy people sharing the trail with us; patches of snow, and craggly boulder ridges, and green meadows, and butterflies that came together to party in the middle of the trail. It was everything and more than I’d hoped for. And all those worries that had tried to limit me – age, size, heat – had no power to stop me from enjoying the gift of this day in the mountains.
Here are some photos of “Sauks Past”: Dad and me; Scott and the sons and me, circa 1996; Scott and me on Sauk, several years ago; and Scott and Sam Dog. And there’s a picture of Dave and Claire and me on this week’s hike…
And here are some photos from our hike this week…
Mount Baker from Sauk MountainThe switchbacks up Sauk.Indian paintbrush flowers brighten the meadow.
I’ve graduated from university now. Dad has led me to the summits of Rainier and Hood by this time. I’ve seen deep blue crevasses and the castle-like suncups that form on glaciers; smelled the sulphur of volcanoes, and the ozone of high altitudes. Today, though, Dad and I are on a simple hike up to the top of Salushkin Falls.
We find a place to settle together in the heather meadows and pull out our sandwiches. We sit for a while in companionable silence. Then Dad asks me if there’s any song that inspires me. I think about this for a moment. The first Star Wars movie has just come out, and I tell Dad that the Star Wars theme song inspires me. I ask Dad what song inspires him, and he says, without hesitation, “The Lone Prairie.”
I am surprised by this. I was expecting him to name some song of the mountains maybe – Dad is a well-known mountaineer, after all, and at the moment we’re sitting on the slopes of Rainier.
Intrigued, I ask Dad to sing “The Lone Prairie” for me, and he does – in the same way a young boy might sing to his mother – without artifice or showmanship. It is a sweet moment.
“Oh carry me back to the lone prairie Where the coyotes howl and the wind blows free And when I die you can bury me Neath the western skies on the lone prairie… “
(Here’s a photo of Dad on me on Sauk Mountain. Circa 2000.)
My husband and I came back to Mount Rainier this weekend. We rented the Jimmy Beech House – the same house where my dad, Dee Molenaar, celebrated his 100th birthday two years ago. It felt good to be back. I remembered Dad surrounded by his old mountaineering friends and his family as they celebrated him. He sat in that chair and slept in that bed. And he laughed and reminisced and stuck his finger in the icing of his cake right over there.
It rained on us this weekend – buckets of wet fell from the sky and dumped on us – it was GREAT! While we were inside we drank tea and watched movies and The Seahawks and sat in front of the fire in the fireplace – it was very cozy. But we also went hiking, of course, because… well, that’s what hikers do, right? We drove up to Paradise on Saturday and did a quick hike up to Alta Vista to say hi to Mom and Dad’s ashes. It stopped raining for a bit and we watched the clouds drift by in the valley below us. When we got back down to Paradise it started snowing – great windy gusts of snow blowing in our faces and whipping around us – the first snowfall of the season there. We’d started a second hike, but turned around at Myrtle Falls because of the weather.
Today we drove back up to the park, but only went as far as Longmire this time. (When we entered the park we were told by the ranger lady that there was a lot of snow at Paradise now and traction tires were recommended. I’m glad we got up there yesterday.) So we did a quick easy hike on the Trail of Shadows loop and then hiked a bit up the Wonderland Trail towards Cougar Rock Campground.
I told my husband about a hike I remembered doing years ago in my twenties – Eagle Peak – and thought maybe that was something we could do while we were at Longmire – I remembered it as fairly easy. But when we checked it out we saw it was labeled “strenuous” and was more than seven miles long with an elevation gain of 3,000 feet. Which. What the heck?! I started sort of chuckling then, remembering my strong young self – and the adventures I used to have – going off by myself for a “quick hike” of some peak. I’m so glad I had those adventures! And I’m also really glad I survived them.
I didn’t mention my dad to strangers all weekend. This is kind of a big deal for me. Normally I find every opportunity to let people know I’m the daughter of a famous mountaineer and I used to work at Rainier and… and… did I mention I’ve climbed to the summit? But this weekend I kept all that a secret. I asked other people for directions. I played the part of the tourist. And it felt really good. – Karen Molenaar Terrell
We brought Dad’s ashes back to his home – the slopes of Rainier. Afterwards, down below, a breeze swirled around us – enveloped us in the fragrance of the forest – and I could feel Moz and Dad in the breeze – celebrating with us – surrounding us in love and joy.
You’re in a meadow at the end of the Skyline Divide trail. Mount Baker is right in front of you. Shuksan is to the left. Scott and the sons are with you. Dad is painting a picture just a few yards away from you. Moz sits on a log. A bird has just landed on her finger and she’s smiling at it. There are alpine butterflies – lots of those little blue ones, and the orange ones, too – flitting around in the lupine and Indian paintbrush. It’s warm, but not too warm. There’s a nice little breeze up there. You are surrounded by Love. You’re at peace with yourself and the world. All is well.
Adventures of the Madcap Christian Scientist 