My Week in Photo Adventures

More from my morning walks and a couple not from my walks. Enjoy!

"Beehive Truck"

June 16th

"Surprise Poppy"

June 17th

"Tree Fort"

 June 18th

"Forgotten Picnic Table"

June 19th

"Feet Hit Street"

June 20th

Where the best food comes from

June 21st

Ladira and the lovely sky

June 23rd

Adventure Selfie

June 23rd

Lake Ann part 2: Glacial dip and Hike Lunches

  continued from part 1

   The lake was in site but mostly iced over with little actual shoreline access. Seeing the lake but not being able to see where I could actually get to shore safely was torturous at this point. Like being thirsty after a long, hot day filled with sweaty, dirty manual labor and all you want is a tall glass of your favorite beverage, ice cold. Where the beads of condensation are slowly dripping down the side. Where you're so dry, those drops refresh your hand as it holds the glass. You can see it just waiting for you, you can taste it, you can feel it but your waitress is taking those glasses to another table. I had to keep walking around the lake until I could find a spot to get to the water. I was focused, determined. AT LAST I found a spot! I headed straight down, nothing would stop me! These feet needed the sweet relief that only glacial water could accommodate.

    I love the mental image of myself that I like to think others around the lake saw. A lone, barefooted, tattooed woman, accompanied by an all white dog, determinedly marching (hobbling is more like it) straight into that clear blue lake. And into that lake I marched! I felt like I was in one of those old cartoons where the character's feet are literally on fire and they jump into some water and breathe a huge sigh of relief. The calm that ensues after that is unmistakable. I'm in the lake but it was too cold to stay in for very long. Probably about 15 seconds. But I made it!

   I then proceeded to sit and eat one of the best lunches ever. I think all hike lunches are the best. The food really doesn't have to be that great to be amazing at 5,000 plus feet above sea level after it took you 2 or 3 hours on foot to get there. I ate that pear like I had never eaten a pear in my life! As I sat on a rock by the lake, soaking up the sun, I watched my dog run around on the snow and drink from the lake, it's all so peaceful and beautiful, beautiful beyond words. There are feelings in my gut and my spirit that there aren't words for and I'm ok with that. Part of why I love hiking so much is that I get to be reminded of those wordless understandings with my spirit every time I'm out. When surrounded by the silent noise of nature, the pure air in a place where far fewer people go than those who don't, it is a sacred experience. This is the hike lunch. This is why they are all the best.

   Time for a dip in the lake! I was pretty intent on taking a swim while on the hike up but once I had put my feet in and cooled off a bit, I had second thoughts. Overhearing other hikers vocalize my thoughts with responses regarding the glacial temperatures didn't help either. As I sat, I thought to myself, "Carrie, if you knew that you were never going to come back here, what would you do?" The answer...Jump in of course!  Yes, it was cold, very cold, glacial in fact, but quite refreshing. It takes refreshing to a whole new level. My body felt cleansed and tingly (not numb). A hiker's baptism! The feeling lingered for longer than I can remember. Good stuff.

     Here's me, after my dip in the lake (sometimes I'm not too skilled with my 35mm).

    After my glacial dip, I let the sun dry my skin, packed up and headed back (with my Vibrams on). I gorged myself on trail mix and melted chocolate while driving down the switched-back mountain road (also a funny sight in my head). Made it home with a lovely open, raw feeling on the bottom of my feet and in my soul.



adventure tip: 
One of my traditions when leaving Mount Baker after a hike, snowboarding or whatever is to get myself an espresso at the Wake n Bakery. A great little coffee place with friendly service and an amazing array of delicious baked goods to tempt even my non-grain eating self to at least hover over. They also have a lot of merchandise you can pick up with their clever name and slogan "Get Sconed" on it. I highly recommend checking them out anytime that you're on your way through Glacier.

Want to hike Lake Ann?

Lake Ann Part 1: Hiking alone and barefoot

   I had wanted to hike to Lake Ann for a few years now. As the end of summer was rapidly approaching, I decided that this year was the year to make the trip. A week before I went I had thought that if no one could go with me, I would just do a shorter hike, closer to town. But as Saturday drew nearer, something shifted in me and I decided that I wanted to go on this hike bad enough that it didn't matter whether or not I went alone. When it came down to it, I ended up going alone. Hiking alone can be a bit scary for a woman but can also be a very empowering experience.  My mother, who still worries about me despite all the crazy things I did in my youth, was afraid for my safety but I assured her that not only did I have a knife and a whistle, but that the real danger out on the trails lies with me getting injured with no one else around, not scary hikers. So my dog and I went on this lovely hike together.
  
    I decided before I hit the trail that I wanted to do this one barefoot, at least one direction. There is something so perfectly grounding about walking barefoot. Feeling the different textures under your feet and learning to conform your foot to the ground as it is instead of stomping your boots down, is a lovely thing and a perfect metaphor for life. I strongly encourage anyone to try going barefoot even if only in your own home or yard. The feeling of pure mountain mud or a stream between your toes is like none other. I did get many comments from other hikers about how tough I was and I assured every one of them that, "It really isn't that bad. You figure out how to walk without getting hurt real quick".

    Deciding to hike barefoot proved to be the most mentally challenging part of this hike. I did bring my Vibrams just in case but I managed to tough it out all the way to the lake. The first 3 miles or so were pretty nice, a little rocky and a couple of snow fields but if you're at all used to being barefoot its no problem. About a mile or so from the lake the trail got quite rocky, like the rocks along train tracks, only worse. It wasn't too bad at first but part of what made it difficult was that I didn't know how long the trail would remain this way. If I had known, I probably would have put my shoes on but I didn't. The other difficult part was that I often don't know when to quit. I kept at it to the point of relatively intense pain.  Now, I consider myself a pretty tough cookie with a decent threshold for pain. Plus, I'm a bit of a glutton for punishment. I really do enjoy seeing how far I can push my physical and mental self on occasion. This hike brought me to tears. I almost gave up and put on my shoes. Almost.

   I'm a big fan of positive self-talk (yes, I talk to myself. A lot actually). It has gotten me pretty far in life. I have also been pretty foolish at times and caused myself long-term injuries out of sheer stubborn will. So I had to do a little check in up there on that mountain. Somewhere within a mile after this picture was taken (see those rocks below my feet?...those were a piece of cake compared to the last mile!).

I had committed myself to doing this hike totally barefoot at least one way. But what I knew was that it was ok for me to put on my shoes if I really needed to. So, with raw, burning feet, sweat, tears and that kind of mental exhaustion that only comes with pain, I knew that I didn't have to force myself to do this and that if I did decide to put on my shoes that that didn't mean that I was weak or a quitter or that I should be completely disappointed with myself. It just meant that I had reached my limit...no biggie...we all have them. And only when I was really ok with the fact that I Carrie, have limits, I was able to continue barefoot despite the pain I was in. Other hikers were starting to pass me at this point, admiring (I think) my crazy, barefootedness. I would declare my pain and continue at my slow and steady pace. The thought of how refreshing it would feel to plunge my burning feet into the icy lake kept me going.


continued here in part 2