Methow Winter Ski Retreat

Challenge, Ceremony, and Connection:
A Methow Winter Ski Retreat

By Kathy Vaughan
                                            

     I had a full week off from my weeding job and the organized annual cross country ski trip in the Methow would begin on Tuesday. Also on Tuesday, Lisa and I would begin tallying kilometers skied, towards accomplishing our 2nd Methow Trails 200k Challenge (skiing 200k of the Methow Trails in a single season). By Saturday night, allowing us five days and four nights, Lisa and I hoped to have this challenge conquered. I devised a plan to drive to the Okanogan Highlands to visit Lisa first, in the small town of Chesaw, on Saturday.  This meant an eight hour drive over a mountain pass, and on mostly snowy roads after that, until I reached my friend Lisa’s home, almost at the Canadian border. Near Lisa’s place, Ras and I own a five acre piece of land with a creek and a cabin. Since I was driving over the mountains anyway, I wanted to check in on our place, do some skiing off of the groomed trails, enjoy some time with Lisa in her hand built sauna, and hopefully get in a long run on a snow-plowed country road. Lisa had offered to let me stay in her guest cabin on her garlic farm. She had it heated up and all ready for me, despite the bitter cold weather they had been having. This sounded like the perfect way to turn this whole pre-Rendezvous Huts time, into a winter retreat.

     Conditions of Steven’s Pass looked sketchy from reports, so I decided to take the longer but lower, and safer route. I drove off the north end of Whidbey Island and took I-5 south to I-90 and headed east. It would take longer, but it would allow me to take the lower in elevation pass through the Cascades, Snoqualmie. Stevens Pass was more direct but was requiring traction tires while Snoqualmie was bare and dry thanks to it being 1000 feet lower in elevation. Conditions were quite a bit better, although still wintery.  I also decided to avoid Blewett Pass and eventually turned north up through Soap Lake and Ephrata. A long, solo drive like this in the winter, was a big mental challenge for me; one I was determined to overcome. 

     When I finally pulled up at Lisa’s, I could see smoke coming from the sauna chimney. Her husband Jason had been getting the sauna heated up for us already. I stepped out of the car into the shockingly cold air and immediately realized how serious the goal of skiing 200k this coming week was. I reached back into my car and fumbled for gloves, my warmest hat and my down puffy. Any time outside looking for gear in my car was going to be a challenge. I was happy I was as organized as I was. 

     Lisa led me back to the cabin that farm volunteers and guests use when visiting she and her husband Jason on their organic farm. They grow mostly garlic, but also enough fruit and veggies to preserve and keep them eating their farm food all year round.  The small cabin was warm and cozy inside. I was going to enjoy having this space to myself for the next couple of days, and yet also being able to sauna and ski with my Adventure Bestie. 

     Lisa, Jason, their dog Lucy and I all had a great backcountry ski the following day on the acreage around their home. We spent about four hours skiing through the growth of huge spruce, pine and aspen trees. We skied past a creek with a restoration project in progress. A small black bird called a Dipper was pecking at the frozen banks of the creek. The bird’s presence was a good sign of the habitat being hospitable and offering the nourishment that it needs. That made us all happy.

     Back at Lisa and Jason’s, we enjoyed a dinner of Lisa’s homemade veggie curry. We took another sauna at the cord wood structure they built themselves down by the same creek we had skied past earlier in the day. The whole experience was just what my spirit needed. And this was just the beginning of the week. 

     The following day, Lisa had to work at the small country store about three miles away. I had a hard time deciding whether to run or ski and so I decided to do a route that would incorporate both. I also wanted to visit Lisa at the store later in the day. Jason planned on making us vegan pesto pizza for dinner and I definitely wanted to work up a good appetite for that! 

     I drove to a pullout on a nearby country road. From here, I could ski and run a loop that would probably take about four hours in the deep snow. I got my Nathan VaporAiress pack loaded up with a few extra layers, some snacks and my Altra FKT’s I’d been wear-testing. The shoes are now on the market and called the King Mountain instead. They have the burliest tread on any shoe of Altras and I’m crushing on them hard right now. The deep snow made the skiing slow in my Fisher OutBounds. I skied through this Grouse Preserve for many winters, when Ras, Angela and I lived in our cabin. My plan today, was to ski through the preserve to the road, where I would cross over to our snowed-in driveway that leads back to the cabin, and change into my running shoes. I would have a couple of miles to run, on snowy country roads, before completing the loop back at my car.  I was filled with gratitude that I had the opportunity to ski/run this loop, and was also filled with nostalgia and an appreciation for how far I’ve come with my adventuring. Skiing solo through this preserve land used to be a pretty big deal.

    I stopped by the small store to visit with Lisa on my way back to her place. It was fun to experience the rural culture. While Lisa is working, a worn table near the pellet stove becomes a center of Highlands discussions. Her coworker and two other local ladies, one whom I’d known for years, were at the table when I walked in.  Geared up with my Zoned Heat jacket and tights, my King Mountain running shoes, and other pieces of warm gear I was still wearing post-loop adventure, I became a curiosity. I answered the questions about all the gear, while ideas of how to put together a shoe drive of some kind in this area danced through my head. I’m still working on this one.

     That night, Lisa and I did some baking together and finished packing for our two hour drive to the Methow the following day. It was time for the Rendezvous Ski Hut portion of my getaway to begin. I said good night to Lisa and headed back to the guest cabin for my final night there. I brought all of my gear bags inside to make final preparations and then fell soundly asleep.

     The Following day Lisa and I skied up from the Cub Creek Parking Lot with a group of ladies. For many years, I had joined an eclectic group of Okanogan women on a Rendezvous Ski Hut Trip. River Jones had been the first to invite me along on one of these special winter outings. We normally stayed in either the Gardner Hut or the Grizzly Hut, and this year Grizzly it would be. There would be seven of us: Lisa, my adventure bestie from Chesaw, where Ras and I have a cabin on five acres; Melanie, a retired R.N., fun, fit and feisty, who has been on all of the hut trips I’ve been on over the years; Rise, also a retired R.N. who had worked with Mel for years, and brings her guitar to sing soft, soulful tunes in the background while lively lady chatting is going on; Dani, a spirited, young mom of two, a lovely, athletic lady and a good cook; Cassandra, a sweet, soulful mom of a teenage daughter, a grad student and an all- around beautiful & caring woman; and a new friend to me, Erin, a warm gentle healer, easy to be around with deep blue eyes. All of us have partners, so this lady time getaway was very special. 

     The group of us skied Cougar Bait to Cub Creek, 1.7k & 3k. We took Cow Creek to the Rendezvous Basin for 5.1k. Lisa and I had split off at this point and we continued down the Rendezvous Basin for 2.4k to Grizzly Way for 1.1k to the Grizzly Hut spur trail for .5k. We were staying at Grizzly Hut for three nights and would ski back to the parking lot on Friday.  Later, after a wonderful Apple, Squash and Ginger Soup dinner by Dani, Lisa and I went back out into super cold temps, likely below zero, and very strong winds. We took the spur trail and Grizzly Way to Gunn Ranch Road where we skied an out n’ back to the Gunn Ranch parking lot for an additional 11k. We then returned to the hut for some sleep. Our day’s total was 27.7k.

     I woke up hungry on the second day. Cassandra made a savory breakfast of polenta, fresh garlic and stewed tomatoes. It really hit the spot. Lisa and I hung out at the hut with the ladies, visiting and sipping coffee. We all left together to ski the Cassal Hut Loop by way of the Rendezvous Basin and then Cassal Creek Loop to Cassal Hut spur. We ate lunch there and then headed back out the spur trail, Cassal Creek Loop, in the opposite direction, the “Black” descent to Rendezvous Basin. Lisa and I said goodbye to the other ladies here and continued on our way to do the Cougar Mt. Loop. This loop offers lots of curvy, steep downhill stretches and I couldn’t wait to ski those. I was wearing my larger and heavier Fischer skis. Lisa was in her lightweight skis. We continued on Rendezvous Basin Trail for 3k to reach the basin where Cougar Mt. Loop turns off. We skied the 4.6k loop and connected to Cow Creek. Cow Creek took us back to the Rendezvous Basin and back to the Grizzly Hut for dinner.

      It was our turn to prepare the shared meal and we were making Pad Thai. Lisa led the cooking and I chopped, diced, made the salad and set the table. The ladies loved it and it was delish. It hit the spot. Lisa shared chocolate covered dried mango for dessert. 

     After dinner, it was time for Lisa and I to head out for our night ski. The moon was bright enough to ski without headlamps as we had the night before. Some of the ladies joined us initially. Our plan was to ski the Grizzly Way Loop, 5.2k. I overdressed and got very sweaty underneath. This made me feel irritable and uncomfortable, not to mention nervous about being wet. It was super cold outside, single digits or colder. I got overwhelmed by our goal of skiing 200k in these temperatures. This was my first ski of the season and it was a huge goal I was undertaking. Hanging out in the warm cabin with the ladies sounded much nicer, and easier. I voiced some of my stresses to Lisa, verging on having a meltdown of sorts. I kept coming up with rationalizations as to why I was feeling pessimistic. She didn’t let me give up on the goal. She was assertive, yet kind. We went back to the hut with the ladies and I changed into dry clothing and made an attitude adjustment.

     We went back out and skied the Cassal Hut loop again, in the opposite direction. We skied the Grizzly Way Loop a total of three more times too. This was instead of our initial plan to ski the Fawn Creek Trail down to Mazama and back. This had felt overwhelming to me. Lisa also encouraged me to change into my lighter weight skis. I needed to have faith in my skiing ability. The lighter weight skis give me only slightly less control. I can ski well in my Karhus and they allow me the ability to ski in the tracks, using less energy and going faster. This all worked well that night and we had a lovely ski. I never got wet, cold or uncomfortable again. I could go fast in the tracks and my feet felt so much better in my boots. It was awesome and a game changer. We had skied 34.4k that day and it was time for some sleep.

     On our 3rd day, Lisa and I had coffee and a quick breakfast with the ladies before heading out to ski the Cassal Hut loop. We planned on connecting with the group somewhere during their ski trip to the Rendezvous Hut.  We met the ladies as they were skiing down the spur trail from the hut. Ben, the owner of the Rendezvous Hut system had built a fire up there, but the hut had not quite warmed up. We skied back out to the bottom of the spur to touch base. They were all cold so we said a quick goodbye as they headed off towards the hut. We decided to ski up to the Rendezvous Hut to take advantage of the warm fire Ben had built. We figured the fire would be warm by the time we got up there, and it was. We both were very grateful for the warmth the stove provided, and that we were able to come inside and enjoy it. We pulled up a bench in front of the woodstove and ate our lunch.

      Our plan from here was to continue on to the Heiffer Hut and then get back to our own hut in time to have dinner with the ladies. This route is called the Cedar Creek Loop. It is unique in that it passes through a couple of creek drainages where cedars are growing. This is unusual to the forests of the Methow. I love the rich fragrance of the Cedar Creek drainage as the trail dips down into it, making a sharp curve through the dark, thick forest. A total accumulation of 14.7k would get us back to the bottom of the Rendezvous Hut spur trail again. We would then have the 2.4k descent to the Grizzly Way and 1.6k to the hut.  The Cassal Hut loop was 12.4k. This would give us a total of 29.5k.  

     The home cooked soup made by Mel was a delicious cream of broccoli soup made with cashew milk. Rise put together a lovely veggie platter, complete with avocado slices. A big green salad was also served. The next plan was to head back out for a full moon ski with the ladies. We skied the 5.2k Grizzly Way Loop. Lisa and I planned on continuing on without the ladies,after heading back to the hut for boysenberry pie and a full moon ceremony. Erin, Cassandra and Dani had organized a sweet little ceremony to honor the Full Moon and the New Year. We washed our hands in warm hibiscus water, made our own individual intentions and heard poetry from Cassandra. We stood together, in the moonlight, ski sisters so to speak. 

     Rise, Mel, Lisa and I really appreciated the younger ladies in our group, creating this fresh youthful energy. Our group represented the 30’s, 40’s 50’s and 60’s. When I first began joining the Rendezvous Ski Hut trips, I was the youngest, listening to stories of menopause and the wisdom of the ladies older than me. Now, I was the 3rd from the oldest. Menopause was behind me and I was sharing stories from the perspective of being the mother of a homeschooled 23 year old daughter, now serving in Madagascar in the Peace Corps.  Our group ski was the Grizzly Way Loop for a total of 5.2k. Then Lisa and I headed out to do the Gunn Ranch Rd out-and-back again, a total of 14k and an awesome ski. The whole valley was lit up by the moon. It was stunning scenery as far as the eye could see. For the day, we got 44.9 kilometers.

     The final morning in the hut had arrived. We cleaned up after ourselves, visited and had a pot luck breakfast. Then we all skied out together via Rendezvous Basin, Cougar Mt. Loop to Little Cub Creek to Cougar Bait, 15.4k. It was one of the best skis I’ve ever had downhill on cross country skis. Little Cub Creek is always a blast, but this time was pretty epic. I love this downhill trail with little curves and extended down; so, so fun!! I was super cold at the bottom and half way down started stressing out that I had left my car keys in the hut near where I had been sleeping. I grabbed my burlap bag, which had been overturned in the snowmobile ride, and frantically searched through it. My keys were buried in the bottom. “Yes!”, I cried out dramatically, thrusting my fists up into the air. I warmed up my car and changed into my Altra NeoShell Mids. I was just about ready to leave, when Cassandra walked over with my Fischer skis. I had totally forgotten to grab them from the pile of our gear Ben had snowmobiled down from the hut. They had even been right near my other gear, including my burlap bag. I had skied down on my Karhus and not even thought about my other skis. I thanked her and thought to myself that I had better focus a little better, considering the key thing and the rest of the ski challenge to pull off in a day and a half. 

     I followed Lisa into Winthrop. I left my car in the Barn parking lot and she drove us in her camper to Twisp, where she had some soaps to pick up from a business there. We then drove back to Winthrop to get my car and dropped her camper off at the Ice Skating Rink parking lot, where we would wind up at the end of our night ski. I drove us up to the Chickadee parking lot in the Sun Mountain trail system. This is where would do most of our night skiing. Our plan was to climb up Thompson Rd and ski down Meadowlark to join back up with Thompson Rd. We would then ski to my car, warm up, and have a few snacks. We would ski from there down the steep trail to the valley floor and into Winthrop.

     Once in the Chickadee Parking Lot, Lisa and I had a few organizational tasks to do before getting started for the night. It was very early evening, not yet dark. We could make some good progress up the Thompson Road climb before the sun set. The moon would light our way again later. But for now, we each settled into our own space, within our heads and on the road. There were two sets of tracks, one on either side of the wide corduroy trail. The conditions were good for the climb. We had 6.1k of persistent uphill to the pass at 3,650 feet in elevation. We started out at 2,620. 

     Layering properly was challenging, yet important for the entire time Lisa and I had been out skiing. The bitter, dry cold felt biting on descents. For uphill skiing though, it was surprising how few layers were needed. “Be Bold, Start Cold”, as the saying goes, was hard to implement in the single digit, and below, temperatures. Ras had lent me his puffy down jacket, as it is easier to stuff into a pack than my own heavier weight puffy. As it turned out, this was my layering savior. I was able to put it over the top of my Nathan VaporShadow pack. When I started heating up from the climbs, I could take it off easily and wrap it around my waist without having to stop for long. Each time Lisa and I stopped, we had to tend to each task quickly so as not to get cold. If we were stopped long enough, I could unwrap it from my waist and easily remove my pack, stashing it under the outside stretch cord, or stuff it into the open top. Ras’  jacket was ample enough on me that it fit down over my legs, helping to keep them warm too. The hood could stretch over my own big ear flap, furry hat and be pulled up over the top of my two merino wool buffs. Easily pulling hoods and buffs over your face while moving is an efficient layering technique in the cold, especially with wind as a factor as well. I use all of these face and head layers while trail running, fast packing and cross country skiing.  

     I listened to some music while climbing Thompson Road. The distraction and beat of the music helped. I enjoy listening to Reggae Dancehall, as I’ve mentioned in other blogs. I had a few new tunes such as Elliphant and Major Lazor’s new tune “Too Original” and Elliphant’s single “Only Getting Younger”, featuring Skrillex. Before I knew it, I was catching up to Lisa at the pass and it was time for some downhill. We would still have some gentle contouring along the Meadowlark Trail and even a few short climbs, but for the most part, we were going to have downhill for the rest of the night’s ski.

     Sometimes expectations of what kind of terrain lies ahead can interfere with my mental comfort level. There were some fun stretches of down mixed in with climbs and some gentle contouring for a long way. Lisa gained some distance on me and I skied along in the dark through dense trees, feeling alone in a mostly good way. I got glimpses of Lisa’s headlamp, as we did need them on this night for the first time during our ski challenge. Reaching the intersection with Thompson Road, Lisa and I connected with each other quickly, before beginning the 2.6k, 500 foot drop back down to the Chickadee Trailhead.

    Lisa took off fast. Her light skis had no drag and she flew off before I could really even get going.  I pushed and glided in the tracks to gain some speed and then skied out of them back onto the corduroy once I got momentum. I started skiing fast. It was exhilarating. Lisa was nowhere in sight and all around me was dark. I focused on the smooth trail ahead, trusting that I could open up on this well- groomed path. I was so relieved to have that climb done, to be getting back to the car. The ski into Winthrop would be all downhill and flat track skiing. I could do that any day. “Focus now, fly downhill, cover your face, wriggle your toes in your boots, wriggle your fingers in your gloves, you’ve got this.” These mantras floated through my head as I skied fast in the dark. 

     Then it was over. There was Lisa at the signed intersection, waiting for me so we could take the gentle trail back to the car. My eyes were watering from the fast skiing, the cold air, and for some reason, tears. I was flooded with emotion. I was happy to be getting closer to realizing our goal. I was full of adrenaline from that final downhill. I was stoked to be reunited with Lisa and so near the parking lot. We skied off together towards my car.

     Once there, we took some time to get ready for the 8.8k ski down to Winthrop and Lisa’s camper awaiting us at the Town Trailhead and Rink. Now I was completely relaxed and ready for the rest of the night’s ski. I ate some food while in the car, putting on some dry layers at the same time. Lisa and I left the comfort of the warm car and headed towards the Patterson Lake cabins.  The lake itself was blanketed in snow. The cabins were lit up and smoke was coming from their chimneys. It smelled good. We skied quietly past on the groomed trail and then took off our skies to cross the road. 

     We skied the Winthrop Trail with it’s fun S curves all the way down to the Methow Community Trail. We had 4k to ski through the fields, past a few homes, along the Methow River and into the skating rink parking area. Lisa and I turned off our headlamps once down the steep sections of trail. It was a beautiful night, skiing along peacefully, pleasantly. I got in the tracks and effortlessly cruised through my surroundings, at one with the cold winter scape.  Throughout the many hours of skiing I had been doing, I had often been able to enter this “zone” and it is one of the reasons I am drawn to hard endurance efforts such as this. This is when I feel alive. This is when I am at my best and feel the healthiest. One more day, and Lisa and I would be completing the Methow Trails 200k Challenge for the 2nd time, doing it all in a single big push. I don't think anyone else has done this. It felt exhilerating. 
     I skied up to the waiting Palomino camper, and took off my skies. The empty lot and the starlit sky amplified the feeling I was having of limitless possibilities.

       Lisa and I awoke at what felt like the spot where a winter wonderland turns into a pretty intense winter landscape; the final lot that one can drive to before Highway 20, or the North Cascades Highway, is closed to thru traffic for the season. The avalanche threat is too real for the Department of Transportation to keep this highway open during the winter. A post with a sign and a flashing light warns travelers to go no further. This is sad for me, because The Methow is only about four hours away from where I currently live, via this highway. Instead, I had to drive twice as far to access this magical paradise by way of I90 to get through the Cascade Mountain Range, and then miles and miles of snowy highway north, through central Washington.  

     The Subaru Lisa and I had seen the night before was still parked near us in the otherwise empty lot. There was a tarp laid out neatly beside the car with bins spread out on it. A mat was by one of the side car doors to step out onto without being directly on the snow. Whoever this was, they had camped in the snow before. They knew what they were doing. I got out of the camper to get into my own car at one point, and saw the guy who had been sleeping in the Subaru the night before. He was bundled up for the frigid temps and had on big down booties to walk around on the snow. He was casually eating breakfast at the folding table he had set up, the stove going with a pot of boiling water steaming on one of it’s burners. This was an impressive scene and Lisa and I discussed it. I assumed he might be catching one of the heli-ski rides we were hearing overhead. This area was known for it’s fabulous backcountry riding and it was possible this guy was hitting the slopes. He was gone before Lisa and I hit the trail.

      Our first destination was Doe Canyon. It was quiet and bitter cold. We bundled up and headed for the gentle climb into the canyon. I was looking forward to the ski out, mostly downhill for about 2k. It felt good to be starting our final day on the Methow Trails 200k Challenge. We had worked diligently and persistently to get to this point. We knew we had it if we just stuck to our plan and kept on skiing. We would be done before it was even too late at night. But now, as we skied along peacefully in the morning surroundings, I was in a wonderful zone and felt as though I could ski forever. I was unfamiliar with the trails in this upper Mazama valley floor. Lisa and I had skied it in the night when we completed the Methow Challenge two winters prior. An old wooden sign read “Old Growth Grove”. This all felt new and kept me pushing and gliding forward, looking all around so as to not miss anything. I saw where trees had been broken off at nearly the same height, everywhere I looked. I thought that possibly an avalanche had caused this, or a strong windstorm. Either of these events were possible in this rugged, mountainous zone. I soon saw a large wooden sign that said “Cassal Avalanche 1997”. This explained it all. I skied on, looking at more trees, broken off, as far as the eye could see. It was impossible for me to imagine the enormity of what had occurred here 20 years ago. 

     Finally through the avalanche zone, we were in an open, sunny meadow. I felt so grateful to be amongst such pristine, winter scenery, in the sunshine, accomplishing a huge goal. Lisa knew there would be a bench up ahead and we planned on taking a short break there. We had not been able to stop outside for any length of time during our entire ski. We would now have a chance to sit down and soak in some sunshine while having a bite to eat. It was all that I had looked forward to as I skied the last section to the bench. I took off my skis and plopped down on the dry surface. It felt so good to have the rays of sunshine fall on my outstretched legs. This was a wonderful moment.

     A few more kilometers, and we would be at the Mazama Store. We wanted to fill our water bottles here and possibly get a hot drink or a snack. It was incredibly crowded and felt like the scene of a movie. Everyone was dressed just perfectly in cross country ski attire, LL Bean or Patagonia après ski wear, and anxious for something from the counter in the store. We used the restrooms and filled our waters then left for the solitude of the trails once again. The route was cruisy and pleasant as we skied the final four kilometers back to the parking lot. We saw a few other skiers, but for the most part, we made our way easily along the route. We had a short climb that rewarded us with a little bit of fun downhill. We skied through a tunnel underneath the Highway. Cold, hungry and happy, we got back to our vehicles. We began to warm them up as we took off skis and boots, changing into dry shoes for driving. 

     Lisa would drop her camper off at the Mazama parking area. This is where we would complete our Methow Trails Challenge. I would drive us to the Gunn Ranch parking area where we would begin our night ski. We would ski the 5.5k on the Gunn Ranch Road, and then connect with the Rendezvous Basin Trail. But first, we wanted to be sure we were ready with everything we needed in our packs for night skiing. We were finishing our hot drinks and snacking in my car at the Gunn Ranch parking area, the car running so the heat was blasting and keeping us warm in the cold early evening air. Lisa and I both have a fondness for this road; it would be our third time skiing it in this challenge. It had been so intense and windy our first night out. Now, it seemed inviting and familiar. The gentle climb of the road would warm us up quickly once we left the comfort of the car for our final ski of the challenge. Our bellies were full and we were bundled up appropriately. Our headlamps were ready, although most nights out we had not had to use them as the moon had lit our way. I locked up the car and we headed up the trail, the clear view of the valley below us. We were quiet, our thoughts internal as we glided easily up the trail. All of the usual landmarks helped lead the way. I noticed the pond for the first time. Aspen lined its outer banks. I remembered the salamanders Lisa and I had seen here during another ski challenge at night. It had surprised us to see them on top of the snow. Now, seeing the pond, it made only slightly more sense.

     We hit the intersection with the Rendezvous Basin Trail and took a left. Now it was time to gently cruise along, the main climb over with. We would have a 2k climb after some of the descent, a bit later on. We both figured that this would help to warm us up again after having gone downhill for a while. We skied along, nostalgia flowing through me as I remembered skiing all throughout here with the ladies earlier in the week. We had so much fun together. I saw the arch covered in snow that Dani had fallen in love with. I stopped to marvel at it once again and soak in the energy. It was so quiet. We were so alone out here. Everyone was tucked away in their warm huts or in ski lodges or personal residences down in the valley. It was even kind of crazy, but in a very magical and wonderfully intense way.

     The downhill finally came. Lisa took off ahead, flying on her lightweight skis. I lost sight of her headlamp. I kept a courageous spirit and skied along, alone in the dark, downhill. I flew fast at times, and at other times not as fast as I would have liked. Sometimes I could see Lisa’s light if there was a switchback in the trail. The descent was long, about 9k in total. I knew we would connect again, but for now, it was just me and the dark surroundings, my bright light leading the way. I loved the feel of the cold air, biting at my cheeks. I adjusted my wool buff around my face as needed, pulling it away if I wanted the air and covering my cheeks if it got too biting. Down, down I skied. Dropping lower and lower towards the valley floor, I could see the lights from homes down below. It looked so cozy and inviting. The lights were further away than they seemed. And now, suddenly, the climb was here.     

     I struggled a bit mentally with this. I got too warm, but didn’t want to stop and adjust layers. I climbed as strongly as I could, but I could not catch up with Lisa. It was not a big deal; we were each in our zone. This was kind of the crux of it all, the final climb after so many previous ones. I glided along pretty easily, the skis taking to the conditions quite well. I wasn’t backsliding or having to put much effort into moving uphill. It was just a long climb, deep into this ski adventure.

     Finally at the top of this 900 foot climb, it was time to push and glide and work some speed into the take off. I wanted to fly fast down the final descent. I wanted to feel the speed and have some fun curves on the way. This was it. Once in the valley, there would be no more long downhills. Once in the valley, it was time to just get in the tracks and push mindlessly along. The challenge would be over, and likely my skiing for the season as well. It was bittersweet. 

       The lights from the valley got closer and the cold bit harder into my face, my fingertips, my toes. I could see Lisa’s light far below me on the trail now, or was it a light from a cabin? Some lights looked close, like I was skiing right by a ski lodge. Others looked so far away, like I was not progressing downhill like I thought I was. And now another short, steep pitch to climb. The herringboning seemed like a technique long forgotten. What had I started doing with my skis? I hardly thought about it. Lisa had disappeared over the crest a while ago.  I flew down the fun black diamond trail called Goat Creek Cut-off and saw Lisa checking out the sign at the intersection below. The descent was complete. We were back in the Mazama Valley.

     I shivered and we cheered together. I told Lisa the easiest way back to the car from here was good for me. She led the way and we twisted and turned on easy trail for about 4k back to her Palomino in the lot in Mazama. Christmas lights lit up the small town, most homes lit only with these and some dim lamp light. It was just magical. I can’t stop thinking about it. I have to live there and ski all the trails all winter.  Yeah, I would work a little. But I have to find a way to ski Methow Trails, more. For now, I will reminisce of another Methow Trails 200k Challenge, completed in thru-ski style.  

     Lisa and I began the Methow Trails 200k Challenge on Tuesday, January 10th at 11:15 a.m. and completed it on Saturday, January 14th at 8:48 p.m.
We slept three nights in the Grizzly Hut in the Rendezvous Trail System and one night in the Palomino during the challenge.

    

Winter Adventuring: Embracing Seasonal Challenges

Winter Adventuring: Embracing Seasonal Challenges 

By Kathy Vaughan

     I like living in the north central area of Washington where all of the seasons are distinct from one another.  Winter here brings with it lots of snow, although this year it was slow in coming. The past two weeks, lots of the fluffy white stuff has piled up everywhere and it is making for a whole plethora of possibilities for adventuring in the Okanogan Highlands. Aside from a brief stint to the rainy, green side of the Cascades to run Ft. Ebey Kettles Trail Marathon mid February, all of my trail runs have been in the snow. Its been a fun winter and this will be a blog that shares trail experiences I've had throughout late January and the month of February. These months have been extra inspiring for me. As an ambassador for Altra Running, I've wanted to push myself even harder, "Zero Limits" being one of the slogans the company promotes.

     Ras' mother lives in Coupeville on Whidbey Island on the west side of the Cascades in Washington. Ft. Ebey Kettles State Park and Kettles County Park are just a couple of miles away from her home that overlooks the Puget Sound, and so Ras and I decided this would be a great trail race to run. We ran it for the first time in 2013, fell in love with it, and this year we were excited about returning. Ras was also running the Woolley Trail Runs 50k the day before, just about 30 miles from the Ft. Ebey run. He wanted to try to set a PR on the Woolley course, having learned that it was flat and fast. He also likes to try hard stuff and the back-to-back races would offer him that. I stuck with running Ft. Ebey on Sunday. This is a marathon course with 5,500 feet of elevation gain as the trails dip down into kettle formations and out again over a 13.6 mile loop, run twice. 

     I was happy to have gotten my first pair of shoes provided to me by Altra for the season, Lone Peaks 1.5 in black and teal. I would be wearing them straight out of the box and it felt good to know my shoes would have great traction in the wet conditions. The weather was very stormy with strong wind gusts blowing branches over the trails and creating white caps out in the water. The race started directly on the water front, before funneling runners onto the smooth single track. Once in the forest, the wind did not feel as powerful. At the end of the first loop, the trail wound its way back out to a steep bluff and the ferocity of the wind was invigorating.  I could hear the howling before I reached the opening to the bluff and I pulled my wool buff up around my face, covering my ears. I focused on running the small lollipop loop along the water as fast as I could, and then climbing the bluff trail that dropped off steeply to the water below. I tucked my head down and climbed up to meet the main trail that would take me back to the start/finish and the mid-way point for the marathon.

     I ran through the mid-way point quickly, filling my water and getting a new bottle of Perpetuem. I wanted to get back into the forest and back into the loneliness of running in solitude along winding trail, the wind howling in the trees high above. I needed to get lost in my mind again, so that I could power through the second half of the race. I was hoping to finish with a faster time than last year, and being only the second marathon race distance I'd ever run, it would be a PR for me.  Ras was trying to catch me all day, sometimes getting behind me for a while, but then falling back as his tired legs from the 50k he'd run the day before were hollering at him.  I felt good all day, despite the storm. The rain came on at the tail end of the second loop.

     The end of this loop became a highlight in my trail running weather endurance trials.  As I left the forest, I again pulled my buff up over my head and ears. The wind now howled much louder than before and rain pelted against my face, stinging my skin. The finish area looked empty of activity now, runners having already finished their race fleeing to their cars for warmth as soon as they were done running. The light was fading in the sky and the dark clouds overhead were threatening a heavier downpour. I put everything I had into those last few miles. It was crazy to be in that moment, alone and feeling the power of the elements. I pushed up the final grassy slope and over the finish line in 6:38, finishing 12 minutes faster than the year before.  This was my 18th trail race finish since I began trail running in 2011, with 14 of my finishes being ultra distances. 

     Back on the east side of the Cascades, the cold, dry weather was such a contrast. The thick moss and large ferns, the wild rhododendrons and madrona trees, the mud and rich smell of damp earth always seem so foreign to me when I hit the trails on the coastal side of Washington. I love it. When I return home, it strikes me how different the climate is over here. I knew right away I needed to get an adventure in the snow planned, so that I would remember why winter at my home of 3,500 feet was so much fun.

     I messaged my adventure buddy Lisa with some options and she fired back a better one at me-a 26 mile back country ski on snowmobile routes in the Bonaparte Mountain area, just about 15 minutes drive from each of our homes. We had done some long skis like this together last year, but so far the lack of good snow coverage had prevented us from being able to get out on a trip like this yet. Ras would join us. 

     We met at Beaver Lake Campground, at the base of a forest service road that gets groomed for snowmobile traffic a couple of times each winter. Even if it doesn't get groomed, snowmobilers frequent the area and we figured we would be able to ski on the pack that one of these machines would have left behind. We set off in the early morning, in the shade of the trees and snow with an icy glaze on top. The route started with a steep 3 mile climb, and we all settled in quietly, knowing we had a long, tough day ahead of us. At the top of the climb, we reached Bonaparte road which gets plowed by the county. It was in great shape and for 2.5 miles we were able to make good time, skiing along effortlessly.

     Our turn up towards the Virginia Lilly trail brought with it mixed conditions, feelings and a good reality check. We would now begin a steep, relentless climb of about 9 miles before we reached our turn around point at the base of Cumberland Mountain. As we began up the road, we lost the snowmobile pack we'd been following earlier.  We were now pushing snow which added to the level of difficulty. Lisa led the way, cutting the tracks into the deep snow. We were in single file, climbing steadily. About 2 miles up, we crossed a cattle guard and snowmobile traffic that had come towards us from the other direction, had now left a good pack to follow. We were surprised to find this and it was a welcome turn for us. The snow was also softening and the climbing became easier. A light snow had been falling on us all day; not enough for us to get wet, just a dry, steady snow. The temperature was cold enough for us to not want to stop long and there were no sunny patches to create a bit of warmth even for a short pause. We kept on moving.

     Finally, we reached a down hill stretch that was narrow and winding. It was also icy and had been shaded from any warmth the hidden sun was allowing. I tried to lead the way on the descent, but fell as soon as I tried the conditions and instead let Lisa go first. She disappeared bravely, as I then cautiously followed along for the approximately 2 mile drop to Vaughan Creek and our turn around point. Ras followed behind me and we all took a short break before turning to climb the icy stretch we had just come down. At the top of this, we would have some down hill and we were all looking forward to it. 

     We were surprised to find that the downhill took more work and poling than we had thought it would. It was slower going and the long day of skiing was taking its toll on us. We moved along as well as we could. My heavy Fisher back country boots were squishing my toes and not allowing the kind of room I'm used to in the toe box of my Altra Lone Peaks. My toes were shouting at me and my ankle bones were feeling pressure from the boots as well. I kept on pushing and gliding and reminding myself that I wanted to be out here in the wilderness, in the snow. The downhill fun would come. In skiing, one is always rewarded with some awesome downhill. Sometimes, we just don't know when it will come though. Patience. 

     We reached the section of road where we had pushed snow and made our own tracks earlier on the climb up. This was one of the rewards from our hard work. I settled my Fisher back country skis into the wide tracks and pushed off with my poles. The grade was perfect, the snow was just fast enough and the turns were just smooth enough for me to essentially take a 2 mile rest. I rode it out, while moving my feet within my boots, releasing tension in my shoulders and relaxing my body. I was getting the free ride I so love in cross country skiing. It was a blast. 

     At the bottom of the hill, I changed into a thinner pair of socks to allow for more room in the toe box of my boots for the final stretch of the ski. It was time to pull out my headlamp also and attach my sternum light to my pack. I didn't need to turn them on quite yet; the moon was casting a nice glow and this was the plowed road section where skating along gently and effortlessly would need little light. The end of the road came and we all turned on our lights. 

     It was time for 3 miles of downhill in the dark, on slightly icy snowmobile track. This was thrilling. My headlamp was dim as I'd not replaced my batteries after my last long night run. I regretted this almost immediately, but my sternum light was super bright. I just had to keep adjusting it to get it to cast the light in front of me rather than in my face. It was all good though and I can't put into words the awesome feeling of flying downhill on skies in the dark wilderness, with two of my favorite people. The descent seemed endless and coming to a halt at our cars felt so strange. 

     We all changed into dry and warm boots. Lisa and I got our thermoses of hot coffee and tea out and made a picnic spot right there on the snow. She brought huge banana muffins to share, packed with pecans and dark chocolate. The ski had taken us 10 hours and we had not seen a soul, not even any wildlife on this day in the back country of Bonaparte.

     I took a rest day and then had to get back out onto my favorite loop trail, the Black Diamond Lake Lollipop. This loop has 3,100 feet in elevation in 9.7 miles and travels through canyon walls, pine forest, creek beds, rocky outcroppings and sage brush country. Big Horn Mountain Sheep wander through here and a resident cougar's tracks are always fresh whenever new snow falls.

     Lisa, Ras and I would be the team again for this adventure. We bundled up against the wind in the Okanogan River Valley and started the climb up into the canyon about mid morning. We did not see the sheep as Ras and I have so often this winter. So much snow had fallen that maybe they had to find just the right spot to feel protected from the weather. We started post holing almost right away, knowing the snow was bound to get deeper as we climbed higher. We knew we had a challenge ahead, but the bluebird day was not going to allow us to abandon our idea. We were all warm enough and all of us had Altra Lone Peaks on our feet. The traction was ideal for the conditions and with gaiters keeping some of the snow out and wool socks on our feet, the set-up was better than a stiff pair of hiking boots, or even snow boots. No traction devices are needed in snowy conditions with the good lug soles of the Lone Peaks and the flexibility they allow for good, secure foot placement. The wide toe box gives lots of room for a thicker wool sock in the cold. I have worn my Lone Peaks for all of my winter adventures with great success.

     We took turns post holing and making tracks for the others to follow. The camaraderie and team work was nice. Lisa is a tough lady and she led the way first. Ras made great tracks for us as we made our way around the frozen lakes, following tracks from two different cougars and looking around us on the high rocks to see if one of the beauties might be observing us from up there. I led the way along the canyon rim as we traversed along it for the final climb of the loop. Then we reached the main trail again and began the 3 mile descent to our parked car, where a thermos of hot coffee and vegan chocolate chip cookies were waiting. 

    The post holing continued up higher, but gradually, as we got lower the snow depth lessened to a point where we could begin a run. It felt floaty and freeing as we picked up the pace and ran through the snow. The technical ground underfoot was completely covered in snow and we were able to fly down. Lisa disappeared around the corner and I marveled at what an awesome trail runner she has become in such a short time. Having healed up in the autumn from some knee issues, she switched to zerodrop shoes, changed to a natural running form, and is now doing really well on the trails. She can't seem to get enough and is running 20 milers regularly on the snowy country roads around her home.

     I love that in the sport of adventuring we can help inspire and push each other. Now that Lisa is running, I find myself trying to come up with new ideas for what we can do together and she is always game. I helped inspire her to get to the point where she could run again and in turn, her running has helped me to amp it up to the next level. We do this with skiing and finding local peaks to climb too. Tomorrow, we will ski all of the trails in our local nordic ski park, which will total about 35 miles.  The challenges are endless, and with the support and companionship of a friend, they are all possible. "Zero Limits" can mean to each of us what we want it to mean, within our own realm of possibilities. It can change and expand over time. We can push ourselves to reach what we think are our limits and then go beyond. The kind of growth that results, has far reaching affects. 

Early Winter in the Highlands Part 4 of 4: Black Diamond Lake Lollipop

Early Winter in the Highlands Part 4 of 4:  Reflections in the Frozen Canyon 

By Kathy Vaughan

     Shona, Ras and I met in the Whistler Canyon Trail head parking lot on a late November morning to run the 9.5 mile Black Diamond Lake Loop. Starting in the Okanogan River valley, the single track trail climbs quickly up through the canyon walls. The morning was cold and I could hear and see our breath as we all set off up the trail.  I warmed up quickly as the climb continued. I took in the deep scent of the sage, the sweet fragrance of the tall, dried grasses and looked all around me at the rock formations. I have heard that there are Native American petroglyphs on some of these rock walls. Rock climbers enjoy some bolted routes in here. Big Horn Mountain Sheep roam year round, rattlesnakes have dens in the crevices and cougar have been seen along the trail.

     I like the thrill of going into territory rich with wildlife. Ras and I had been studying the difference between canine and feline tracks in the snow before this run, so as soon as we got to the first set of tracks we could see along the snowy route, we stopped to examine them. Ras drew a big circle around the tracks with his trekking pole, and began the lecture. We could see a distinctive cross mark, separating the pads of the animal's feet. The top pads were nested into the bottom pads. These were all distinguishing marks of a canine footprint. We were likely seeing coyote tracks.  We had learned that the prints of a cougar, bobcat or lynx would have an arched pattern to its pads instead. It was fun to talk about the tracks and share any knowledge we all had together. Shona accidentally stepped into the circle of tracks, we all cracked up laughing about how she had ruined our lesson, then we took off running again. 
     

Top left: Canine print, circled to accentuate the shape, taller than it is wide. Bottom left: Circle demonstrating the overall shape of a feline track, wider than it is tall (no track, just a circle to demonstrate). Right: Right foot print of a human female wearing Altra Lone Peaks.

     At a little over 2 1/2 miles up the trail, the Black Diamond Lake Loop trail takes off to the left, from the 100 trail/Whistler Canyon trail. It first crosses a small wooden bridge over a creek that flows powerfully in the early spring, trickles in the summer, but was now dry. The trail was covered in snow, but easy to follow. The temperature was cold enough that the snow was dry and not slippery. It didn't make the running any more difficult and we moved along at a good pace. The trail climbed very gently at first and then steep sections were mixed in as it took us closer to the lake.
     We all settled into the climb, and soon Ras was out of sight ahead of Shona and I. I thought maybe he was powering up the hill ahead of us, intending to stop at some point and wait for us to catch up to him. Not putting too much more thought into it, Shona and I visited and pushed our way up the steep climb. All of a sudden, Ras appeared from behind us, and as most trail runners might assume, I figured he had to step of the trail for a few minutes because of nature's calling. I was wrong. In studying the differences between canine and feline prints, Ras had learned some interesting things about cougar behavior and he had decided to try it out on Shona and I, unbeknownst to us. He had laid down on the frozen ground, hiding in tall grasses and barely visible behind a trail sign. Lying still, he watched Shona and I pass him, without having any idea that he was there. So yes, his thought that we had probably passed by cougars before on the trail without us realizing it, had now been proven. 

Regular readers should recognize Shona Hilton by now.

     Another set of tracks appeared and our lesson in canine and feline differences did us no good now. These were clearly black bear tracks and it had gone the same way we were headed. It was cool to follow these interesting prints in the snow.  Ras went off trail to follow the bear's prints down to the frozen lake. The bear had meandered down to the lake, to frolic around.  We were all surprised that this bear was not asleep in its den somewhere. This bear was clearly awake and even seemed to be playing around in the forest. We could see its tracks climbing along downed trees and scrambling over big rocks. Of course, it could have been hunting rodents.

Right foot bear tracks, rear at top, front at bottom. As with Felines and Canines, the front prints are wider and heavier than the rear. The head and shoulders counterbalance the animal's rump, so their back end is fairly light when moving. Most of the animal's weight is on the front paws. When striding the rear foot lands in front of the fore foot.

     Ras was feeding off the wild animal energy of the bear prints and the joy he was feeling running this fun route on a glorious day. He scampered off trail again to climb to a high point and I whispered to Shona, "He's pretty hyper today!". Sometimes hard of hearing, he had heard this, but didn't bring it up until later in the run at a more opportune time, sneaking it in to the conversation and cracking Shona and I up once again. Having fun with your running partners is awesome. It's distracting, motivating, helps create lasting friendships and most importantly, helps work our abdominal muscles while we are running. Laughing is good therapy any way you look at it.  

     We ended up following the bear tracks around most of the loop.  This may or may not have spawned a conversation between Ras and Shona about their old punk rock days, but it was fun to hear their chatter behind me as I enjoyed running downhill through the soft and forgiving snow. All of the roots and rocks were blanketed over in soft snow and it was a blast to bound downhill over the top. I don't use any traction devices on my Altra Lone Peak 1.5's. The lug pattern on the trail running shoe itself works great. On the trail behind me, I could hear "Bad Brains" this, "Dead Kennedys" and "Seven Seconds" that. Sometimes I heard a lyric being sung by one or the other; Shona's Scottish accent getting thicker with some of her anecdotes; Ras' knowledge going back to a time well before I knew him, when he was a part of his local punk rock scene in Oxnard, California, called "Nardcore".

     We completed the 4 mile loop and were now back on the 3 mile descent of the lollipop stick portion of the trail, back through forest, at first alongside a frozen creek and then back into the canyon walls. The terrain gets rocky underfoot as the trail works its way through the canyon again. I like practicing technical footing in this area and I was feeling awesome so it was easy to settle into a comfortable rhythm. Going back to this trail over time, I get to gauge how I am doing on this kind of rocky trail. I am finding that so much of it is how I feel on the inside, my confidence level. If I can relax, it all flows. If I'm nervous, I brake and stumble. Its so fun when it all synchronizes. I'm still slower than many other runners when I'm feeling my best, just cruising downhill through snow, or dancing through the rocks. I remind myself that I'm a unique individual. We are all unique. As trail ultra runners, we all have our specific histories, talents, age, gender, influences, health~so many factors contribute to how we run. After reminding myself of this,  I feel blessed to be able to be out on the trail, yet again.

     "There has never been another person like you since time began, so there is no one to compare or compete with."   Louise L. Hay

     The 9 1/2 mile Black Diamond Lake Lollipop Loop offers everything I like in a trail run. It is so scenic that you can run this loop over and over again, each time having something new to see. There are distant views of the river valley and the orchards below. The cliffs and rock formations are intriguing and I like to scan them for wildlife. The route offers a great mix-cruisy, downhill running; technical trail; twisty, curvy paths through the trees; rocky climbs; running alongside deep draws; passing by frozen lakes; a glimpse into the area's history; diverse ecosystems; and all of the solitude one could want on a trail.

     Ras and I want to keep this trail open all year by running it once a week. As snow continues to accumulate, we can keep packing a path. It will be worth it. As winter deepens, snow shoe hare will hop around, moose will wander and the elusive lynx that hunts the hare exclusively, may make an appearance. I plan on being out there to see all of the wonders the quiet season of winter will provide.        

Early Winter in the Highlands: Part 2 of 4

Early Winter in the Highlands Part 2 of 4: Short-Tailed Grouse Preserve

By Kathy Vaughan

     Ras and I moved to the Okanogan Highlands about 12 years ago. We moved from Bellingham so that we could buy a piece of land, build our own small home and raise our daughter, homeschooling her ourselves. We wanted to live simply. We found our 5 acre spot along Mary Ann Creek in the Chesaw area. Directly across from our property is a Short-Tail Grouse Preserve. This land extends as far as the eye can see and beyond. It nears the Canadian border. The area has a rich history and many old homestead buildings remain. There are old root cellars and stone buildings, barns of silvered wood still standing, pieces of old farming equipment, abandoned claims from the gold mining era and lots of old road beds to follow.

     Although I enjoy seeing the remains of the area's history, my main interest is these old road beds. They make awesome running paths as well as cross-country ski trails for winter. Ras and I have since moved from our little cabin we built on our 5 acres and our daughter, Angela, has gone off to college. We now live in a big home that we caretake. But my friend Lisa still lives near these trails and she explores this area often. She invited me to join her for an all day trek that would begin at the trail head near my cabin and end at her house on the other side of the town of Chesaw. We would hike across the grassy hills and down into draws, wooded with aspen. We would find our way across the hills, summitting the high point, Strawberry Mountain, before making our way back down to dirt road again. Lisa's house is along this dirt road. We didn't really know how long it would take us, exactly what route we would take to get there, or what our mileage would be. This turned out to be the beauty of the day.

     I drove to Lisa's house in the morning and picked her up. We left my car at the trail head that enters the preserve near my cabin and took off into the grassy landscape. There were some patches of snow, but mainly the ground was bare and the grasses were dead. There were lots of choices of road beds to follow, some mowed by Fish and Wildlife during the summer months. We decided to first climb to a lake near an area called Bootlegger's Pass we had both heard of before. Legend has it that the pass crosses into Canada and was used to transport liquor across the border back in the day. Before Ras and I were ultra runners, we used to wander around these hills with  Angela, but we hadn't made it as far as the lake. I was intrigued by what we might find.

     We reached the lake and it was frozen. We named it Horseshoe Lake. It had an island in the center we could walk out to. The surrounding draws were mysterious and dark. They were filled with thick fir trees. Rocky outcrops dotted the landscape. Mostly we just saw grassy hillsides, but the rocky areas and wooded draws were inviting. We chose to hike towards them and down into their reaches. As we climbed back out, we would choose the next one to hike to. We continued across the preserve in this way, sometimes hiking towards an old homestead, sometimes towards a stand of trees. It was freeing and relaxing. I imagined what it would be like to have been a Native American in these lands or a homesteader, trying to survive the harsh climate of winter and the dry desolate summers. 

     When Lisa asked me whether we should head for the lower ground or towards the distant summit of Strawberry Mountain, my answer came quickly. I definitely wanted to climb the mountain I could see. We still had about an hour and a half of wandering through the hills before we would reach its base. We hiked through several more of these old aspen groves; the white bark of the trees bare of leaves were visible from a distance away. The homesteaders liked these groves because it usually meant water nearby. Aspen require a source of water and in this area it is usually an underground spring. Sometimes small ponds or lakes are nearby. The trees rot at their bases over time and many of these groves have lots of downed trees. The center of the tree rots as well, and a round cut out of a log of aspen can be carved into a nice hand drum. 

     An abandoned home and a large, frozen lake were at the base of Strawberry Mountain. Another old road headed out past the lake and off into an area I would like to get back to on skis. But for now, it was time to climb to the summit. It was a steady climb but not technical at all and soon we were at the top. We had a 360 degree view. To the east, we could see the Kettle Crest Range. Up north, the snow capped peaks of Canadian mountains loomed. Just below the mountain, we could see the homes of local Chesaw folks situated on carefully chosen hillocks, along creeks, or near stands of fir trees. The sky was blue and the wind was still. At my feet, I was astonished to see a form of life, so tiny and yet protected from the cold temperatures in a way only nature can perfect. Piles of ladybugs were tucked under the rocks. There were hundreds of these little beetles. Lisa had seen them there in the past. This is a place they call home in the harsh conditions of winter, in a high mountain desert landscape at about 4,300 feet in elevation. 

     It was a blast barreling down the mountain. We got to the bottom and saw one more idyllic setting for homestead remains, several buildings this time. I stopped to take one last look, knowing dusk was approaching and we were getting closer to Lisa's house.  These scattered homes were so mysterious to me. I wondered out loud to Lisa if the children at this home might have gone over Strawberry Mountain to visit the children at the home alongside Strawberry Lake. I think they probably would have.

     We were able to easily follow a roadbed that descended all the way down to the dirt road that passes in front of Lisa's home. We walked up her driveway in the dark and stepped inside to the warmth of wood heat and the complex fragrance of a vegan curry dish, wafting from her kitchen.