In late October, we got a collective bug up our butts to take a hike before it was too late in the season. As an intrepid last minute planner and avid indoorswoman, I did an internet search for “fall hike Washington” and found a description of Blue Lake, which sounded lovely. “Imagine a short and easy hike to a beautiful, deep blue lake. Add in views of several stunning North Cascade peaks. Then ring the lake electric yellow of larches. Sound good? If so, definitely add this hike to your October larch march.” Sound good? It sounded great. Of course, when we arrived, we were completely and utterly unprepared for it to be the frozen pass of Mount Caradhras. I swear, you could almost hear Saruman laughing at us from on high. But damn it, we were there to hike, and we were going to hike, adverse weather conditions or no adverse weather conditions.

The hike itself was fairly easy, even in the snow. There were only a few patches where the path was muddy or icy; the worst bit was when it got icy and there was a steep drop-off to one side, so we made sure to go slow and cling to the wall so as not to have our corpses become a warning for others. I mean, yes, I live my life as a warning to others, and I imagine my death will do the same, I’m just not ready for it yet. Ostensibly, it’s called Blue Lake for the color of the lake. I can’t verify this, as the lake was frozen over on our trip. Next time I go, it will have to be in August/September so as to see for myself.

Since we found ourselves with a lot of unexpected snow, the only proper way to deal with it was to make snow angels. I may have had a numb butt for the rest of the day, but it was totally worth it.

One of these things is lying. I’m not sure which.

On the hike back to the car, it started to snow, so we redoubled our efforts to get back faster, as we didn’t have chains for the car. It was fall, it’s frankly a miracle that we had hats and gloves. It was definitely a beautiful hike, just not the hike we were expecting. Damn you, Saruman!

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While my dad was in town, we hiked up Mount Rainier. This time, I actually brought supplies (more water, a lunch, a jacket, rain gear) and was the worse off for it, because now I had to lug a pack up with me when I’m far more accustomed to merely lugging myself around. I eventually had to hand my bag over to Jason due to shooting pain in my “unergonomic shoulder”–the desk I worked at for the last five and a half years was too high for me, which forced my arm up into an awkward position in order to use my mouse, which did a number on my shoulder over time. Now, when I carry something heavy, or have my arm raised for anything more than a few minutes, the shoulder lets me know I’ve gone too far by responding with deep stabs of pain. More often than not, Jason will end up carrying my bags, which means I really should try to coordinate with both outfits instead of just one.

By far, one of my favorite genetic traits I inherited from my mother is my inefficient cooling system. Essentially, while performing any sort of physical activity, my face turns as red as a ripe tomato, regardless of how my body feels, prompting those around me, friends and strangers, to ask if I am currently embroiled in the process of dying. This red face sticks around for hours. In school, I would dread the days we’d run in gym class, knowing that I’d be displaying evidence of the activity for the remainder of the day. No one wants to ask Beet Red Bobblehead Betty to the prom, and that’s a fact.

We hiked up to the snowline and decided we didn’t want to go any further, since none of us particularly relished the idea of a potential fall into dirty, icy snow, and/or possibly sliding to our gruesome deaths. I’ll pack a sandwich, but crampons are overkill for a casual hike. Since we stopped early and had energy to spare on the way down, we cast hate rays at the families of people who were diverging from the trail, stomping the fragile meadows. Why try to keep anything nice for anyone else, right?

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