Scout

It's time to go hiking and laking. When I was little, my family hiked all over the North Cascades, and I have recently had such a fun hiking experience that I'm ready to rediscover this family tradition.

The term "hiking and laking" was invented by my cousin Stephen when he was about 7 or 8. He had come with us on several hikes in the Alpine Lakes wilderness, and since all of our hikes ended at lakes, he assumed that "laking" was the logical end to a day of hiking. My family still calls it that today.

Last Sunday was Summerland, on Mt. Rainier. This weekend, I hope to go to Iron Peak in the Teanaway area. Later in the month, the Cajun and I are going to Meander Meadows, a hike I last did 31 years ago. Yup, 31 years.

Here's the visual confirmation that not only did I go, I carried my own stuff:

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Remember when you could still drink right out of the creek? Sigh.

I went to REI yesterday and got the necessities: water purifier, map and map case, hiking poles (these make all the difference, hallelujah, I am a convert), convertable pants, you name it. All dividendable, of course.

Let us just pray that the blueberries are out by then. My dad would really like a handful of high-bush blueberries from his favorite place on earth. He's asked to have his ashes scattered on Poe Mountain, the next mountain northeast of Meander. I wish him no ill, but I also will enthusiastically and reverently make that trip one day.

David Wilcox wrote a song recently that seems it was written just for my dad:

Vista
(David Wilcox and Regie Hamm)

The mountains were high from the valley below
But back in those days they didn't know
What was waiting for them over the divide
And who would be the first to see the other side

But you made the climb up to the crest
Seeing it all ahead of the rest
And your expression showed the wonder of the place
Looking westward with the sunlight on your face

At the wide open vista
At the wide open sweet someday
Climbing over the ridge top
To finally see the view
That none of us ever have known
Crossing over to home
In the vista
Home

And, finally, the car I was "made" in:




	s c o u t better living through better living Looking for SCOUT's other blog? The one with all the pictures and stuff? CLICK HERE Home Admin Password Remember Me 613854 Curiosities served Share on Facebook				2007-07-31 8:46 PM Hiking and Laking; a Meandering. Previous Entry :: Next Entry Read/Post Comments (1) It's time to go hiking and laking. When I was little, my family hiked all over the North Cascades, and I have recently had such a fun hiking experience that I'm ready to rediscover this family tradition. The term "hiking and laking" was invented by my cousin Stephen when he was about 7 or 8. He had come with us on several hikes in the Alpine Lakes wilderness, and since all of our hikes ended at lakes, he assumed that "laking" was the logical end to a day of hiking. My family still calls it that today. Last Sunday was Summerland, on Mt. Rainier. This weekend, I hope to go to Iron Peak in the Teanaway area. Later in the month, the Cajun and I are going to Meander Meadows, a hike I last did 31 years ago. Yup, 31 years. Here's the visual confirmation that not only did I go, I carried my own stuff: Remember when you could still drink right out of the creek? Sigh. I went to REI yesterday and got the necessities: water purifier, map and map case, hiking poles (these make all the difference, hallelujah, I am a convert), convertable pants, you name it. All dividendable, of course. Let us just pray that the blueberries are out by then. My dad would really like a handful of high-bush blueberries from his favorite place on earth. He's asked to have his ashes scattered on Poe Mountain, the next mountain northeast of Meander. I wish him no ill, but I also will enthusiastically and reverently make that trip one day. David Wilcox wrote a song recently that seems it was written just for my dad: Vista (David Wilcox and Regie Hamm) The mountains were high from the valley below But back in those days they didn't know What was waiting for them over the divide And who would be the first to see the other side But you made the climb up to the crest Seeing it all ahead of the rest And your expression showed the wonder of the place Looking westward with the sunlight on your face At the wide open vista At the wide open sweet someday Climbing over the ridge top To finally see the view That none of us ever have known Crossing over to home In the vista Home And, finally, the car I was "made" in: Read/Post Comments (1) Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top