Burnout Point from Clayton Beach

After searching around on line to find out why this particular hike is called "Burnout Trail" or "Burnout Point," I was unsuccessful. We have done this hike before, but earlier this fall we were turned back from this particular trail because of logging activity in the area. We only had seven intrepid Trailblazers turn up for today's hike because the forecast indicated a 60% chance of rain or snow. The hike starts at the Clayton Beach trailhead and goes unrelentingly upward for the first few miles. There was no sun, but the mist made the cool and rather magical forest inviting and restful. There was no wind, and we chatted as we climbed.

By the time we reached around 1,400 feet of elevation, the snow that had fallen yesterday began to stick to the road and the surrounding vegetation. It was really lovely and peaceful, and we continued our upward climb while enjoying being outdoors without any rain. We had very little precipitation today, even though it obviously fell not long before.

Linda's red hat adds just enough color to make this picture a favorite. We saw the icicles on the side of the road, and they must have formed from runoff and freezing, because there is no stream in the area. They were really stunning as we approached them in the mist. I suspect after a day or two of sunshine, they will all be gone. We were in the right place at the right time!

We reached the logged area and looked for the viewpoint, which we didn't visit, since there was obviously no view at all. Usually there is a pretty spectacular view from Burnout Point, but as Peggy said, the fog and mist were a blessing, since we didn't have to see the devastation from the logging activity. From this point we headed down on the trail that leads to Lost Lake, and we saw that yesterday's snow had created some beautiful patterns on the mossy trees.

We stopped at Fragrance Lake for a quick lunch and then visited the viewpoint on our way back down, which added about a half mile to the trip on our way back to the Clayton Beach trailhead. There wasn't much of a view of Samish Bay, but the skies were beginning to show little patches of blue and the clouds were lifting.

This little side trip adds around an extra half-mile to our entire hike, so it was nice to visit it and hope for a view. Once we left and began to head back down to the cars, we had descended around a quarter mile when Linda, who was on the trail in front of me, stopped dead and said, "Uh-oh. I left my poles at the overlook!" She had had a nagging feeling that she had forgotten something and when she realized what it was, she said she would run back up to get them, not wanting us to have to wait too long for her. Mike then said, "You want to borrow mine?" Well, you guessed it: Mike had picked up Linda's poles and he and her husband Ward had been following behind, wondering when she would realize her mistake. (Mike doesn't usually use poles.) We all laughed and continued on down, but I warned Linda I would be forced to write about it. She agreed it was too good to pass up.

I asked Ward to take a picture of me as we were leaving the area, since I realized I'd forgotten to get one last week and we were almost back to the cars before remembering today. We covered a little more than nine miles and around 2,000 feet elevation gain and loss. It's been a really good day, and I'm happy I went and didn't stay home because of possible bad weather. The picture reminds me that I'm due for a haircut.
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How times have changed

Snagged from InStyle

After I watched the Oscars, I was happy that Meryl won, finally, and I really enjoyed all the dresses and jewels that dripped from all those celebrities. But then I wondered if Jane Fonda had attended, since I didn't see any pictures of her, so I googled "Jane Fonda Oscars 2012" and the link from InStyle (under the picture) came up. Here are Jane and Gwyneth Paltrow at the Vanity Fair after party.

Just look at Jane! Did you know she is 74? And in love, it seems. I used to follow her blog but gave up on it, since I think she began to let someone else write it for her. It took a distinct change in tone one day and I realized I wasn't really all that interested in hearing what she (or whoever) had to say any longer. Nevertheless, she's a very fascinating person, and I read every word on her Wikipedia page. Since I will turn 70 this year, I'm look for mentors. Many of the blogs that I currently follow are written by women who are around my age or older, and I love thinking about what might be next in my own life.

The title of this post was born out of an event that happened to me this morning. I was walking to the coffee shop after my morning workout (my schedule on Tuesdays has me getting a bun workout that would make Jane proud) when I saw a man coming toward me, obviously engaged in a conversation. But there was nobody around him and at first I thought perhaps he had an invisible friend. He was gesticulating wildly, shadowboxing with the air, and I decided to give him a wide berth. It wasn't until I saw the bluetooth in his ear that I relaxed. Oh: he's having a conversation on the phone, with no visible phone OR recipient in sight. How times have changed.

In days gone by, someone acting like he was would have been hauled off to the loony bin. That made me wonder about people who are actually a bit on the unhinged side: do people see them on the street and assume they are talking on the phone? Yep, our assumptions can no longer be so cut and dried.

Another way that times have changed is that a hundred years ago, or even fifty, nobody who is the age that Jane Fonda is could have looked like that. I read that she has had plastic surgery on her chin, neck and eyes. Since she just wrote a book about aging, she didn't feel she could deny that she's had "work" done. And she continues to work out, but with an artificial knee AND hip, she probably isn't doing a lot of the stuff that's in her old exercise videos. That new book came out last year, called "Prime Time" about many aspects of getting older. I read her 2005 autobiography and enjoyed it, so I will give this book a chance once it comes out in paperback.

Another way that my own personal times have changed is that as I grow older and notice that the signs of aging are taking a distinct turn towards letting gravity have its way with me. Bags under my eyes, sagging skin in places I didn't even realize COULD sag, and a need to get more sleep at night... all these things make me realize that the trajectory is only heading one way. It's normal, I tell myself as I flap the skin under my arms around, or try to find a more flattering way to cover my neck. Just as an aside, I read a wonderful book a few years ago by Nora Ephron, "I Feel Bad About My Neck," which is available on that link from Amazon. A very good read. Maybe I should go back and read it again. As I remember, I laughed repeatedly at some of her observations.

I just remembered that I need to get some bird seed for my wild birdies before the storm hits that is heading our way. I'll go ahead and wrap this up now so that those little cuties will have something to nibble on in the morning.
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Destiny

This scroll hangs on the wall in our living room. Smart Guy bought it on our last trip to China, and I like to look at it and ponder the brush strokes. It is the Chinese character for "Destiny." Or at least that's what I thought it was for all these years, but when I went to Google to look it up just now, it's not the one that comes up. It looks entirely different. Hmmm. It makes me wonder what the meaning of this symbol really is. Whatever it means, it has always drawn me to think of movement. We move through life, through our years on the planet, and one can imagine that our destiny in some way, is preordained.

I've been wondering about my mental faculties lately. I've always had a facility to remember numbers; telephone numbers are very easy for me, and I don't often need to look up a number more than once or twice, even if I don't call it very often. The other day I went to the Food Co-op and usually give the five-digit account number to the cashier, but I simply couldn't remember it. I was disconcerted, so she looked it up for me and for the past week it is there in my memory banks. At the bird store a few days ago, I was telling a story about seeing a hawk come right up to the porch where I was standing, while I was outside. I said, "it landed on the..." What? She looked at me and I had a complete blank, and I said, "you know, the thing that keeps you from falling off the porch." "You mean the railing?" Yes! Of course, the railing. Another uncomfortable moment, which passed, and I have THAT word right on the tip of my tongue now. But where was it at the time? What is happening to my prized possession, my memory?

Years ago I was worried about the fact that I was forgetting things, and when I went to my regular doctor for a checkup, I mentioned my concern to her. She ended up giving me a test. When I read the novel about early-onset Alzheimer's, "Still Alice," I wrote a post about recognizing the test she gave me as being the same one that Alice was given that confirmed her diagnosis. Although I made a few mistakes, I was reassured that the memory loss I was experiencing was normal.

It does seem progressive, however. What causes those little brain farts that come increasingly more frequently? Do you have them, too? I know that I am doing all the right things to keep myself from becoming more disabled by memory lapses than I already am, but it is so worrisome that I'll ask my new doctor if he will give me the test and let me know if I'm okay or not. What do you do if you find out you have developed a "condition"? Sigh. I hope I don't find out. In the meantime, I'll continue to exercise both my body AND my mind.

On another matter, tomorrow I'll be watching the Oscars and hoping my favorites will win at least a few awards. I'll go to bed having been saturated with beautiful gowns and jewels, and hopefully won't be too awfully bored. Sometimes I just wait until the next day so I am not tied down by three hours of rather dull reality TV. Bet some of YOU will be watching, too.
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Sugarloaf and Mt. Erie

Today was a mostly dry but overcast day (well, mostly overcast) for our regular Thursday Trailblazers hike. Twelve of us met at the Senior Center, and we set out in three cars to drive 40 miles south to the trailhead near Heart Lake. You can actually drive to the top of Mt. Erie, but there are numerous trails in the Anacortes Community Forest Land that give you plenty of options to get around without taking your car up there.

Carol and Sally show up every few months to join us. I was struck by the color of Sally's new raincoat. It's almost iridescent, don't you think? The rest of us were the regulars who rarely miss a hike; rain or shine we're out there. The weather forecast had promised little to no rain, and that's what we got, although yesterday's clear blue skies were what we kind of hoped for. However, as you can see from this picture near the top of Sugarloaf Mountain, the air was damp and hazy, with a bit of view but nothing spectacular.

We are looking out at the San Juan islands and the Strait of Juan de Fuca. Usually we hike to the top of Mt. Erie first and then descend a bit and climb to the top of Sugarloaf. Today we reversed it, and visited Sugarloaf first. We knew that it wouldn't be likely we would linger terribly long for lunch today, since it wasn't very warm and although we weren't soaked through like last week, we hoped not to let ourselves get too cold. Today the view from Mt. Erie was nothing like we had last year.

Here we are, settling down for lunch, just as the sun broke through the clouds. Although we did have some sunshine, the humid air and a breeze kept us from hanging out for long. If you took a look at last year's picture, you know that sometimes we are able to see Mt. Rainier in the distance. Not today.

Looking down from the top of the mountain, you can see a road running across the middle of the picture. That's what we took to get to the trailhead. I have now seen this view three times, and every single time it's completely different. Since you can drive to this spot, usually we have plenty of other visitors on the summit with us. Again, not today. We saw one other car; otherwise we had it to ourselves, except for a nice man we met on the trail.

On the way home, I took this picture from inside the car looking back up at Mt. Erie from that road in the middle of the last picture. We hiked right around eight miles and covered 2,400 feet of elevation gain and loss. My knees are feeling it, too. As I've said before, without those trekking poles I wouldn't be able to do these weekly hikes, so I'm glad I have them. These are not the best pictures I've ever taken, but it is  a fair and true chronicle of today's hike. I'm glad to be home and am now ready for my nightly glass of wine, which always makes my knees feel better.
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Fitness enthusiast

Climbing two fourteeners in one day

That person walking on the saddle between two 14,000-foot peaks in Colorado was me, many years ago. I was thinking about when it was that I became interested in fitness. I moved to Colorado from California in the mid-1970s and met some people who liked to climb these "fourteeners" -- actually they thought of it as "bagging" them. Two of them, not far from Boulder, are Grays and Torreys Peaks and one day I joined three men I worked with on a fine day in the winter.

I had been cross country skiing with one of them, John, on a regular basis, and he felt I might enjoy spending the day with them. We all met at a parking lot and carpooled up to the road off Highway 70. One of the guys had climbed this route many times before and it is so well used that he refused to climb it any time except during the winter. The road wasn't open, so we skied to a place where we could stash our skis and continue on up to the peaks. To be considered separate peaks, the saddle between them must lose at least 3,000 feet of elevation; this one required us to drop down more than 500 feet before climbing up the other mountain. It was a long day, with plenty of exercise and I, being the lone female, was determined not to lag behind. Although I wasn't all that old (back then I was in my early thirties), the men ascended the mountain much more quickly, and John got this picture of me. I was tired and sore at the end of the day, but I kept up and was proud to have been "one of the guys."

When I first moved to Colorado I was a cigarette smoker, and I will never forget the day that I realized, even back then, that I could not climb a flight of stairs without having to stop and catch my breath. I was overweight (not terribly, but enough that carrying that extra weight at Boulder's elevation made a difference). I decided to take up jogging, and after several fits and starts, I became capable enough to run a 10K race, the Bolder Boulder. And it helped me to quit smoking.

It occurs to me that those years I spent in Colorado were when I first became interested in exercise. Not only climbing fourteeners, jogging and cross country skiing, but in 1975 my friend Donna and I decided to set out on a bicycle trip from Boulder to San Francisco. We had panniers filled with our gear and sleeping bag, but we traveled light and crossed the Continental Divide five times before it was all over. It took us six weeks, and we mostly stayed in KOA Campgrounds or found a nice city park to sleep in. Within a very short period, the few times we stayed indoors (for one reason or another), it seemed stuffy and uncomfortable. I was happiest in a quiet place with my trusty steed and water bottle nearby, snuggled in my warm down bag sleeping under the stars. We only met curious people or those who wanted to help us in some way. It was almost forty years ago now, and I cannot imagine doing something like that today.

I didn't stop being interested in outdoor activities and volunteered for the US Forest Service for more than a decade, showing newbies the correct ways to hike into the wilderness and becoming more and more experienced. Then I discovered skydiving in 1991, and I stopped going into the wilderness, because every single weekend, winter and summer, I was at the Drop Zone hoping to jump out of an airplane. I packed my own parachute and found that I stayed pretty fit from the activity. Plus, as hard as it may seem to believe, I was madly and completely in love with this new activity. I met Smart Guy through skydiving late in 1992, and by the time we got married in freefall in 1994, I had only spent a few times hiking into the wilderness.

My skydiving career was long and varied, and my obsession covered almost twenty years before it began to let up. When I moved away from Boulder and retired from my job, I decided not to keep my skydiving instructor ratings either, and now I have found a nice little group of people who like to play in the sky during the summer months, and I've taken up hiking and regular exercise again. As most of you who have read this blog for awhile are aware, I joined the Bellingham Senior Activities Center to go on hikes of varying lengths every Thursday. And I work out at the YMCA on the other weekdays. I've been challenged many times by these walks, but they are with like-minded people and we are aware of our limitations. For the first year after I joined these hikes, I didn't go on any that were rated "hard" but stuck to the easy and moderate ones (some of which were MUCH harder than I expected a "moderate" hike to be). And now I feel that my fitness level is pretty much as good as an active Senior could expect.

I didn't ever make a decision to become a fitness enthusiast, and I am a bit amazed when I think of how it all came about. But it's obvious that I am not a happy person when I'm not able to be outdoors playing in the wilderness, or the air, or taking pictures of beautiful mountains and flowers and people.
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Making the best of it

After listening to a howling wind blow all night long, and looking outside at first light to see that it was indeed still raining, I waffled back and forth about whether or go out and meet the Fairhaven walkers at the Ferry Terminal at 8:00am this morning. Bundling myself up, I forced myself to go, telling myself that if I got there and nobody else showed, I could just slip to the coffee shop with no one the wiser. But no, at least a dozen women were already there when I pulled up at 7:55. Sigh. I got out and joined the crowd, all of us a little amazed that we were actually there!

Our walk was in reality pretty nice, somewhere between five and six miles, out and back. Once we got into the trees, the rain was light and the wind didn't seem so bad. We visited with one another as we kept up a brisk walk, and by the time a half hour had passed, I was warm and extremely glad I had decided to come out. My feet were a little wet from slogging through the wet trails, but I didn't care, I was getting exercise and I felt one hundred percent better once we finished. We headed to a local coffee shop and I got my usual latte, this time with a lovely birdlike design. Or maybe it's a lion, or an angel. Whatever, it was delicious.

After I got home and spent an hour or so connecting with Smart Guy, I decided to write a post about something, not sure what would emerge, but after I went outside to take picture of the rain puddles, I spied two other exciting pictures. Look what is coming up in my neighbor's garden:

If I am not mistaken, in a week or two (or three) I will be seeing daffodils in bloom. It's the middle of February and we are gaining more than three minutes every day, moving towards spring. As I walked back (or actually squished back) to the sidewalk, I spied a bit of pink.

Covered with raindrops and nibbled by somebody anxious for spring delicacies, I believe this is the first primrose of the season. I'm not sure that's what it is, but it's definitely the first flower I've seen in bloom this year. So all this rain, grey skies, and puddles are good, if I just adjust my expectations a bit. Yesterday we had some sunshine, but today and Thursday we have been engulfed in clouds and rain. Figures. Tomorrow is supposed to have some sun breaks, and I'll be watching for them.

One thing I keep forgetting is that when I lived in Boulder, the constant sunshine was a given, like the air, and I never noticed it. Living here, every time the golden sun makes an appearance, I smile and find myself remarking on the beauty around me. Perspective is everything.
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Another soggy Thursday hike

Ten of us hardy Trailblazers headed out to Cub Creek (on the south side of Stewart Mountain) in a light rain. At first it wasn't too bad, but it was already raining when we started our hike at 400 feet elevation. As we ascended another 2,200 feet, there were times when we were in the forest canopy and stayed pretty dry. We even thought maybe it wasn't raining all that much.

We only spent perhaps a mile or so on these roads, the rest of the time we were on trails. We spent some time on the roads traveling under huge power lines, which were singing so loudly from the humidity they sounded like running water. Sometimes they hum, but today they were just... loud. Everything is very green from all the rain we've been having, but once we hit the road higher up, the rain changed character, to snow.

This picture is what our upward trajectory looked like, once we had passed the power lines. By this time, since we had been traveling upward pretty steadily, we were all warm and toasty, but the wind had picked up and when we stopped for any time at all, we began to get chilled. It just didn't seem to make much sense to continue upwards, because any place we would stop for lunch would be cold and uncomfortable. So we had a conference.

We determined that we would descend into the trees and then decide whether or not we wanted to find a fairly dry spot to stop for lunch, or head back to the Senior Center, where it would be warm and dry. Just stopping for a few minutes we began to get cold, so without delay, we descended into the trees. Hiking downhill makes it harder to stay warm, and by this time we all wanted to get moving. Here you can see the power lines, and our trusty leader who had forgotten his raincoat. Al is wearing a plastic poncho he brings along in case of an emergency. This seemed to be an appropriate time to put it on.

We are actually heading downhill in this picture, although it's hard to tell, and we stayed in the snow until we reached the trees. At this point the wind was pretty strong and kept us moving until we were out of its range. One nice thing about trees on the trails is that they block not only the rain but also the wind.

 I may have taken a picture of this interesting tree before, but I was struck by it again today. There was, at one time, a "nurse log" under this still healthy tree, causing it to send its roots down into the ground around it. However, now the log or stump is gone, having done its job, and the tree now looks a little like it could just walk away.

By the time we reached the cars, we had covered somewhere around seven miles up and down in almost four hours, with very little time standing around, and managed a 2,200 feet elevation gain and loss. It was a, yes, wet day, with no views, but I still had a good time and sure enjoyed my warm and dry lunch at the Senior Center! Hoping for better weather next week.
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